Chapter 11
Resting my phone against the steps of St Martin-in-the-Fields, I did the standard influencer twirl on the spot in time to ‘Step into Christmas’.
I had recorded a clip earlier that morning in my hotel room while in my regular clothes and, with a little light editing, I could piece the two together to reveal my outfit for the Great Christmas Pudding Race in my next TikTok video.
As planned, Josh had found a green Elf costume for me and I had spent the better part of my Friday evening, after dinner with Pim, hot-gluing extra tinsel and jingle bells to it.
I wore red block-heeled boots – a decision I would probably come to regret when running through inflatables with a Christmas pudding – and a hat with an extra-large bell on the end. I couldn’t say I felt sexy, but I definitely felt Christmassy.
‘You’re going to be late,’ Andy, the concierge at the Travelodge said, walking past me twirling by the steps with his favourite Starbucks iced coffee, a brave choice for December. I looked at my watch.
‘Damn!’ I said, gathering my things quickly. ‘Thanks, Andy!’ He raised his hand in a swift thumbs-up before heading back inside the Travelodge.
It was 10.30 in the morning, and despite being fairly quiet, I still got plenty of funny looks as I walked up Monmouth Street into Covent Garden.
Still, it was nice to walk through the piazza in the morning before the throngs of tourists descended.
They were gathering but it was nowhere near as busy as it would be by lunch time or once night fell, but it was still packed enough that groups of shoppers parted ways to look and let me pass, and buskers had pulled crowds around them.
Without meaning to, I looked around for Simon at his previous busking spot and there he was.
He was singing into a microphone, a backing tune of ‘What Christmas Means to Me’ by Stevie Wonder. Before I realised it, my feet had altered my direction and I found myself headed towards him. He was like gravity, pulling me in.
For a while, he didn’t seem to notice me.
I’d have thought I was pretty hard to miss in my Elf costume, jingling with every step among the sea of puffer jackets and Christmas jumpers.
But he was lost in his element, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he belted out the lyrics, his energy infectious.
I couldn’t help but smile, watching him charm the crowd.
‘Thank you!’ he called as he hit the last note, the crowd erupting into applause.
Coins clinked into his upturned hat and he gave a little bow, his face alight with genuine joy.
I manoeuvred my way to the front, the bells on my skirt chiming softly, and called out, ‘Who are you raising money for today?’
He turned, his eyes widening as they landed on me, taking in my sparkly boots, the jingly skirt, and the ridiculous green hat perched on my head. For a second he just stared, his mouth twitching as if he were trying to hold back a laugh. Then his eyes met mine, dancing with that familiar mischief.
‘Crisis,’ he answered into the microphone, his voice warm.
‘Which, judging by that outfit, you might be in.’ The crowd laughed, and his grin grew wider, his gaze never leaving mine.
He held up a finger to me, mouthing ‘One minute’ before handing the microphone to another busker and making his way over to me.
As he moved closer, his eyes did another slow sweep of my costume, lingering just a second too long before locking with my eyes again. ‘Nice outfit,’ he said, his voice lower, softer.
‘I’m Jovie from Elf,’ I replied, giving my skirt a playful twirl and jutting my leg out to show off my sparkly boots. ‘I’m about to run the Great Christmas Pudding Race.’
‘Yeah, I heard that was happening today.’ His gaze dropped to my boots again, his mouth curving into an amused smile. ‘You’re actually running in those?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ I said, feigning offence. ‘I’m more coordinated than I look.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he murmured, his voice teasing.
I cleared my throat, desperate to break the sudden electrifying tension before I did something stupid, like stare at his mouth. ‘So is that why you’re busking so early? To get away before the madness descends?’
He cleared his throat, turning and running his hand through his hair.
I got a good look at his biceps from the gesture and my stomach stiffened; he had muscles.
‘That and it was the only slot available,’ he admitted, looking back and leaning in conspiratorially.
‘It gets pretty cut-throat around here this time of year.’
‘You make it sound like Game of Thrones or something.’
‘It kind of is.’ He laughed at his own joke pre-emptively. ‘Winter Wonderland is coming.’
I moaned. ‘I walked right into that one.’
‘I regretted it as soon as I said it.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
We stood there chuckling and for a moment his face softened, his gaze turning to me thoughtfully. ‘Right,’ he said finally. ‘I need to get back. I’ve got ten more minutes to fill. And you.’ He pointed to my feet. ‘Try not to fall flat on your face in those shoes.’
I laughed, taking a step back. ‘No promises.’ I gave another short twirl. ‘Go back to your adoring fans. Have a good show.’
‘Cheers,’ he said, stepping back already.
As I walked away, the first notes of ‘Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town’ floated through the air, his voice wrapping around me like a hug. I glanced back, just once, to see him watching me, his smile soft, his eyes warm.
Seven Dials seemed less of a place and more like one large crowd.
All the streets were blocked, either by characters in an array of familiar costumes or race organisers in red outfits and Christmas hats, wearing large badges and waving hands and clipboards above their heads like exhausted parents hosting a children’s party.
My body seemed to relax as I saw them. It was not unlike the behind-the-scenes of one of Pim’s many TV appearances.
I looked about, trying to spot Josh, Alex, and Megan and seeing multiple Grinches, Santa Clauses, the occasional Buddy the Elf and Muppets character, but no John McClanes or Cindy Lou Whos.
But suddenly I heard someone scream, ‘Evie!’ from behind me. And it was a scream, not a shout.
Josh was running towards me wearing a muscle suit and holding his unflattering bald cap. He grabbed both my arms, his eyes wide and almost bloodshot.
‘We have a disaster,’ he said, turning and pulling me into the throngs of reindeer and Kris Kringles.
‘Where are we going? Where’s Megan and Alex?’
I heard Josh repeat ‘Alex’ in a very frustrated tone.
‘Josh?’ I asked, as he pulled me into an alcove where Megan was pacing on the phone. She looked so cute in her little pink Cindy Lou Who costume – even if she was about two feet taller than the actual Cindy Lou Who.
‘Megan?’ I asked but she shook her head, looking very worried. ‘He’s not answering,’ she told Josh more than me.
‘That Ebeneezer,’ he hissed.
‘What is going on?’ I asked, holding my hands up to stop both of them, only noticing as I did so the green Grinch costume over Megan’s arm. ‘Where’s Alex?’
‘He’s ill,’ she said, unsympathetically.
‘That’s no excuse,’ Josh said, throwing his hands up dramatically. Megan sighed, her voice cracking as if she might cry.
‘Now he’s not answering his phone,’ she said.
‘Wait, what?’
‘This morning he said he was unwell and wasn’t going to make it. He wouldn’t get out of bed; he’s got this cold that’s been going around.’
‘Tell him to man up!’ Josh shouted, and I stopped myself from pointing out the sexism in that statement, since he was slowly turning as red as one of his Santa suit swatches. ‘He’s going to be in costume. No one will see the snot pouring down his face.’
‘Gross,’ I said. ‘So we’re down a team member.’
‘He said he’d get his mate Billy to do it,’ Megan said, pressing ‘Dial’ on her phone again. ‘But I can’t get hold of Billy and now Alex isn’t answering his phone. What if he’s doing a Love Actually?’ she asked suddenly.
‘A what?’ I said.
‘You know – when Colin Firth goes to the wedding and leaves his girlfriend at home as she has a cold, but she’s actually fucking his brother.’
‘Well, in this scenario that would surely mean Alex is fucking me, which I can swear by Mary, Joseph, and the wee donkey he is not,’ I pointed out.
‘But he’s not answering,’ Megan practically wailed.
‘And we’re a team member down!’ Josh also wailed.
‘Okay, calm down,’ I said and both of them glared at me, since when has anyone ever calmed down because they were told to?
‘He’s probably not answering as he’s downed too much NyQuil and is sleeping it off and besides, this is Alex, he can’t prepare a takeaway order let alone a coordinated cheating moment. And we can run just the three of us.’
‘The minimum team is four,’ Josh pointed out. ‘If we don’t have a fourth, we have to forfeit our place.’
‘Surely we can speak to someone,’ I suggested calmly – putting my practice with Pim to good use – and looked for one of the Santa hats with a clipboard. ‘There must be a few spare runners who couldn’t get a team together on the sidelines, or someone we can just pinch from the crowd.’
‘What about the costume?’ Josh shouted, flinging his arms in the air. How many espressos had he had this morning? ‘We need a man to fit the costume and we need them now.’
My heart skipped a beat.
Call it a lightbulb moment or a ton of bricks, but I knew exactly what to do. He was going to hate me. But it was for charity. And deep down, I knew he’d do it. At least, I hoped he would.
‘I know who we can ask.’
Before Josh or Megan could question me, I bolted out into the crowd. If I didn’t get to him before he wrapped up his set, I’d lose him to the sea of people flooding the streets.