The Secret Santa Project

Chapter 24

Stacey didn’t think she could be any more excited. She felt giddy and giggly, as though she was about to embark on the most magical journey of her life. She felt the magic of Christmas again like she had done when she was a child. As she rode through the streets of London in the back of the black cab, she saw the Christmas decorations as though she was seeing them for the first time. The awe and wonder of them was blinding as she clutched Will’s hand. She couldn’t understand why she hadn’t noticed before how beautiful her home city was. As they rode over the Thames she almost gasped at the reflection of the lights in the river, looking far down towards Tower Bridge and St Paul’s and the skyscrapers beyond. It looked like a painting, it was so jaw droppingly beautiful. She must have been given a new set of eyes. She had never seen London like this, she could have sworn. She had never seen the magic of Christmas like this before. This grown-up Christmas night out felt as if she had been spirited away to a magical wonderland for a few hours, and the reality of life was quietened for the moment.

She leaned over, squeezing Will’s hand. ‘Thank you for inviting me,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I can’t believe I’m going to a Christmas party at the Tower of London. It’s just amazing.’

Will shrugged. ‘Not sure it will be as good as the Shard last year, if I’m honest. Apparently the food isn’t as good at the Tower, but then again the Shard does have a Michelin-starred chef so it’s going to struggle to match up to that.’

Stacey shook her head and thought of the Accounts Department’s usual Christmas Coffee celebration, when she might treat herself to a ginger spiced latte rather than having her usual tea. She wasn’t having to rate the relative merits of luxury Christmas venues year on year. But maybe if it continued to go well with Will, then she would be sitting in a cab this time next year wondering whether this year’s party would be as good as the one last year at the Tower of London. Now, wouldn’t that be a thing.

‘That reminds me,’ Will said, clutching her hand and looking into her eyes as they whisked past the Savoy. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

Stacey held her breath. Perhaps he was going to ask her to spend Christmas with him. How brilliant would that be. Finally, a Christmas with romance attached. Oh, how she would love that.

‘When you’re out buying presents, could you get something for Isobel? For some stupid reason we still get each other gifts, but I never know what to get and I haven’t got time to go shopping, and you’d be much better at choosing than me. Is that OK? It would be doing me such a favour. Just whilst you’re out and about. No need to make a special trip.’

Stacey stared at him. That didn’t sound like something she wanted to do at all. Buy his ex-wife’s Christmas present? No, not really.

He put his head on one side ‘Honestly, you would be such a life saver,’ he continued. ‘It would give me more time to look for something for you.’

‘OK,’ she said slowly, not wanting to break the mood. She’d shelve her feelings on this request for this evening.

‘Wow, you’re so amazing, you know. You really are,’ he said, holding her tight and moving in for a kiss. She couldn’t resist. Why did he have to smell so good? They kissed long and hard in the back of the cab and for a moment Stacey thought she had been transported to a Hallmark Christmas movie.

They were zipping along Embankment now, possibly one of the most magical parts of London on any day of the week, but the addition of Christmas trees lit up brightly along the river bank added extra fairy dust. Stacey could see couples walking along hand in hand like you often saw in the movies. She’d like to do that. Maybe she and Will could take a stroll down to the river later and take in the glory of the city after a few glasses of champagne and a smooch on the dance floor.

Eventually the infamous turrets of the Tower of London came into view. Majestic, robust, strong. What a sight, in contrast to the multitude of skyscrapers, she’d just passed, Stacey thought. One of the oldest buildings in London still dominated the skyline, with its unique towers and turrets. The cab driver dropped them at the public entrance and Will jumped out before offering his hand to help Stacey step out of the cab, which she did with as much elegance as she could muster.

‘I feel like a queen arriving home,’ she giggled, looking up at the floodlit Tower. Will bent low and kissed her hand. ‘For tonight,’ he said, ‘you will be my queen, my beloved.’ Stacey giggled again. This was more like it.

Will took a thick card out of his breast pocket and showed it to the man on the gate, who nodded them through in stately silence. They walked along a walled pathway towards an archway between two imposing towers, above the dry moat. Stacey felt as if she was literally going back in time as the noise of the city grew distant and the quiet calm of the Tower of London took over. Her heels clicked loudly on the stones and echoed as they entered a short tunnel. At the other side a Beefeater stood to greet them with a tray of mulled wine in festive cardboard cups.

‘You might need this to fortify the rest of your journey onward to the White Tower, the oldest building within the Tower walls,’ he told them.

‘Thank you,’ said Stacey, gratefully taking one of the cups. ‘It smells wonderful,’ she added, blowing the steam off the top.

‘Now follow the signs. It’s a five-minute walk, so tread carefully over the cobbles and don’t stray off the path, whatever you do,’ he grinned.

‘A five-minute walk,’ muttered Will. ‘You’d think they’d be able to get us closer to the venue in a cab, wouldn’t you?’

‘Well, I guess they weren’t thinking about access for corporate parties way back in the eleventh century,’ said Stacey. She’d been reading up on the history of the Tower as she had been so excited, and thought it might be a useful conversation point if she got stuck for what to say to Will’s colleagues.

‘I guess,’ said Will.

‘Nice touch, giving us a shot of mulled wine to accompany us on our way,’ said Stacey.

‘Mm,’ replied Will. ‘Never been a fan of mulled wine. It’s just red wine watered down with orange juice, isn’t it? I don’t get it. Ian had better have ordered some decent champagne for arrival drinks.’ He put his paper cup down on an ancient wall.

‘You can’t leave that there,’ said Stacey.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, it’s litter.’

‘They’ll have cleaners coming round. We’re guests. I have it on good authority that the firm has paid a lot of money for this party so we can leave someone else to clear up. Come on,’ he said, putting his arm round her. ‘Let’s go find a real drink.’

They continued to follow the cobbled road along the ramparts of the towers. It was eerily quiet, as though they were the only ones there, as though they had got the dates totally wrong or had been lured there under false pretences. It felt a little more like the latter as their footsteps echoed round the hushed walls.

‘This is the Queen’s House on the left,’ said Stacey. ‘Henry VIII built it for Anne Boleyn, apparently, which sounds romantic, of course, but it’s also where she spent her last night before he had her beheaded.’

‘Brutal,’ said Will.

‘Well, it was, especially as he’d moved heaven and earth to have her. I mean, the man set up an entire new religion just so he could marry her. And yet they were only married three years and he ordered her to be beheaded! I mean, that is some turnaround, isn’t it?’

‘Didn’t she, like, sleep around?’ asked Will.

Stacey shrugged. ‘Maybe, but Henry VIII was the most unfaithful man known to life. He wasn’t beheaded, was he, but poor old Anne was. Women couldn’t get away with anything in those days.’ Stacey felt herself shiver. ‘Not that it’s much different now.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Will. ‘A woman can have sex as much as she wants now – no one gives a damn.’

Stacey raised her stuck-on eyelashes. ‘She can. She might not be beheaded like Anne, but she’s still judged. Believe me, I’m a single mum, I know. But Freddie, Grace’s dad – no one’s judging him, as far as I can tell. And all I can see on Instagram is his family fawning all over him and his engagement. Not a thought for the child he’s fathered.’

Stacey felt the outside world closing in on her suddenly. It had broken through the fortress of the Tower of London and was threatening her magical evening. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She needed to forget the fate of poor Anne Boleyn and enjoy her evening of fun and frivolity.

‘Traitors’ Gate,’ she said, nodding down towards the grim-looking wooden structure to her left. ‘They used to bring traitors here by barge and imprison them in the Tower.’

‘Nice,’ sighed Will. ‘This venue has all the atmosphere you need for a cracking good Christmas party.’

‘I wonder if the traitors could hear the members of the household partying. How weird would that have been.’

‘Not as weird as you giving me the entire grim story of the Tower of London on our way to a party.’

‘Sorry,’ said Stacey. ‘Sorry. Just I find the history amazing. Imagine, we’re going to eat and dance and be merry in the very spot where Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn did. Doesn’t that give you the chills slightly? Doesn’t that feel amazing?’

‘I’d rather be at the Shard,’ said Will. ‘They do the best Espresso Martini you have ever tasted there by a country mile. Don’t think we’ll be getting one of them here.’

Eventually they were directed along a narrow corridor, through a small door and down a narrow staircase into a large grey-stone-wall-lined room with magnificent arches on each side. A large fire roared at the far end and beside it stood a tall and extremely wide Christmas tree twinkling with white lights. Round tables stretched out in front of them, bedecked with candles and sumptuous festive decorations. A warm festive glow filled the room as well as the hum of chatter from the guests lingering around a bar on one side of the room. Waiters glided effortlessly with full trays of tall glasses filled with bubbling golden wine. One of them greeted Stacey at the bottom of the steps and handed her a fizzing glass with a nod and a smile.

She took a glass gladly and sighed. This was heaven. She turned to smile at Will and clinked his glass. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to him. She could feel herself starting to well up, she felt so full of Christmas cheer. Here she was, in one of the most historic buildings in London, bathed in fairy lights and feeling the warmth of an open fire on her cheek. This was the most festive she had felt in a very long time. She could almost look forward to Christmas, feeling like this.

‘Jacko is over there with his girlfriend,’ said Will. ‘He DM’d her on Instagram. She’s an underwear model, or so he says. She doesn’t look much like one, though. I reckon he’s talking out of his arse as usual. Let’s go over and find out. You ask her what she does for a living when I introduce you.’

Will was striding off towards a group gathered round the Christmas tree before Stacey could say anything. She didn’t want to know what Jacko’s girlfriend did. She didn’t care. And equally, she didn’t want to be talking all night about the fact she worked for the council. That would be sure to ruin the warm glow she was feeling.

‘Jacko, mate,’ bellowed Will, slapping his colleague on the back. ‘How long have you been here? You look like you’ve had my share of the champagne already.’

‘Well, if you don’t get here bang on, then old Charlie will only neck it, won’t he? Now, who’s this?’ he asked, eyeing up Stacey.

‘This is Stacey,’ said Will. ‘She’s the mum of one of Isaac’s friends.’

Stacey felt her heart sink. Not the way she wanted to be described. A mum was not her main descriptor tonight, surely? And Grace would be horrified if she heard Will describe her as a friend of Isaac’s. She clearly detested him.

‘Nice to meet you, Stacey,’ said Jack, nodding his head. ‘This is Bianca. She’s an underwear model.’

Stacey’s jaw dropped slightly. She wasn’t sure if she would want to be introduced as an underwear model either!

‘Used to be,’ said Bianca, giggling. ‘Like two years ago. I do promotional work now. It’s warmer.’ She laughed as if she’d made an hilarious joke. Jack and Will also laughed like she had made an hilarious joke. She was wearing a dress not dissimilar to the red one that Grace and Diane had told her to take off because it was too short. Bianca did look stunning in it and her hair extensions nearly touched her hem. It almost looked like she was wearing a winter cape.

‘Well, that sounds like the underwear modelling world’s loss,’ said Will. ‘Can I get you ladies another drink?’

‘Lovely,’ said Bianca.

‘Thank you,’ said Stacey.

Jacko and Will turned and left to go to the bar, leaving Bianca and Stacey alone.

‘This is pretty cool, hey?’ said Bianca, looking round her surroundings. ‘Best I’ve been to this year, I reckon.’

‘You been to a lot of parties, have you?’ asked Stacey.

‘Oh, yeah,’ grinned Bianca. ‘It’s why I keep “underwear model” in my bio, if I’m honest. I’m never short of invitations over Christmas, funnily enough.’ She winked at Stacey. ‘I’ll let you into a secret. I only did it once and that was for thermal underwear.’ Bianca threw her head back and laughed. ‘Gets them every time,’ she said.

‘You and Jacko, you’re not like girlfriend and boyfriend then?’ she asked.

Bianca laughed her heartiest of laughs so far. ‘God, no,’ she said. ‘In his wet dreams. No, I make a point of not being involved at Christmas. Means I can come and go as I please, get taken to every party there is going, have a good time and still get to be wrapped up in my jim-jams on Christmas Day with my mum and dad and baby brother. Just the way I like it. Who needs a man at Christmas, anyway?’ she continued. ‘All they expect you to do is buy all their Christmas presents for them, send all their cards, do all the donkey work that Christmas brings to women, whilst they swan about having a good time. No, believe me, not having a man at Christmas is the way forward.’

Stacey blinked back. She didn’t know what to say. Bianca had zapped all the romance out of a Christmas romance just like that!

‘How about you?’ asked Bianca. ‘You been with that Will guy long?’

‘No, not long,’ said Stacey. ‘I mean, I think we’re together, but you know it’s hard when there are kids involved. Hard to commit.’

Bianca nodded. ‘Christmas will sort you out. You’ll know if he’s committed when it comes to this time of year. He brought you here. That’s a pretty big commitment, right? Has he asked you what you want for Christmas yet?’

‘No,’ replied Stacey. She had been rehearsing her response to that question for a while. ‘Nothing special,’ was going to be her modest reply. ‘Don’t go to any trouble. Maybe some perfume would be nice.’

Bianca pulled a face. ‘Ask him what he wants and watch his face, that will give you a clue, darling. He can’t ask you for something decent if he’s not planning something decent for you. Now, here they come. Don’t mention the thermal underwear, will you?’

Will and Jacko approached with four glasses of champagne in their hands, killing themselves laughing about something.

‘About time,’ said Bianca, grabbing a glass. ‘Thought you’d skipped off to France for these babies.’

‘You all right?’ asked Will.

Stacey looked at him. ‘Fine,’ she said.

‘We’re about to sit down, apparently,’ he told her. ‘I’ll apologise now for my table. My department’s so boring but we were told we had to sit together. But it’s just for the meal and then we can ditch them.’

He took her hand and led her across the room to a round table at the far end. People were already hovering behind chairs, waiting for everyone to arrive so they could sit down. They looked generally older than Will and a bit fierce. Stacey looked over her shoulder, wishing they were sitting with Bianca. She seemed like fun.

There were little name tags on the place settings, and when they found their spots on the table of eight her label read: ‘Will Taylor Plus One’. She felt her heart drop. So far at this party she appeared to have no identity. She was a mum and a plus one. Did she belong anywhere other than to be the supporter of other people?

She sat down and turned to the person sitting to her right, determined to get to know them and make sure they got to know her. She’d been invited, after all, and had just as much right to enjoy the party as anyone else here.

‘Hello,’ she said to the older woman sitting next to her. ‘I’m Stacey. I’m here with Will.’

‘Hello,’ beamed the woman back. ‘Very nice to meet you. I’m Carol, as in Christmas carol, so you got lucky tonight. I also sing in a choir so I could be this table’s very own carol juke box – name me a tune.’

Stacey opened her eyes wide. Carol was full on. She glanced over to Will, who was already deep in conversation with a woman next to him.

‘Come on,’ said Carol. ‘Tell me your fave. I bet you are a “Silent Night” type of person, hey? Like a bit of misty eyes during the festive season, or maybe “Away in a Manger”? You got kids at all? Always a favourite with mums, “Away in a Manger”.’

‘“Little Donkey”, actually,’ said Stacey, feeling almost afraid of this force of nature.

‘Now there’s an ugly carol.’

‘My daughter loves donkeys,’ replied Stacey, ‘so I hear it on repeat from about September.’

‘You poor thing.’

‘It’s the worst one, isn’t it,’ said Stacey, ‘carol-wise?’

‘It’s right up there with “In the Bleak Midwinter”, I have to say. Any song with “bleak” and “moan” in the first two lines is not helping bring joy to the season. So you’ve come with Will, have you?’ she asked, nodding at Will.

‘Yes,’ said Stacey.

‘Why?’ asked Carol bluntly.

‘Erm, because he asked me,’ said Stacey.

‘You a single mum?’ Carol asked.

Stacey nodded, no idea where this conversation was going.

‘Well,’ said Carol, picking up the bottle of red in front of them and pouring them each a glass. ‘You and me both, lady,’ she grinned. ‘So settle in, I’ll get you through this shitshow. You have no reason to feel afraid or alone.’

‘It’s OK, I’m with Will. You really don’t need to look after me.’

‘Oh, I do,’ said Carol, taking a large gulp of wine. She leaned back in her chair and observed Stacey for a moment. ‘Believe me, I do,’ she continued. ‘I’ve worked with Will for a few years now, throughout his break-up and divorce. He brings a single mum every year to this party and they all look the same as you. Beautiful and grateful. Just be wary of whatever fairy tale you may have in your mind for tonight.’ She put her hand over Stacey’s and whispered in her ear, ‘But don’t worry, I’m here to look after you. And if at any point you feel the need to make a quick exit, you just say the word, and I’ll get you out of this fortress. Now excuse me for a minute whilst I chat to the poor woman on my other side to see what her story is.’

Stacey sat bewildered. Who was this mad lady? The ghost of her Christmas present or something? She almost pinched herself to check that she was real. She turned back towards Will to ask him what his take on Carol was. He was still talking to the lady next to him so she put her hand lightly in his knee for reassurance. He put his hand down and squeezed it and turned to Stacey.

‘Rachel, this is Stacey,’ Will said to her. ‘She’s a mum from Isaac’s school.’

‘Hi,’ said Stacey. For the first time in a very long time Stacey actually wanted to say she worked for the council, that she had a career as well as being a mum, but perhaps no one was going to ask her what she did for a living here. Perhaps her long-length dress just shouted ‘mum’ and therefore rendered her invisible in this crowd, and certainly unlikely to have anything interesting to say outside of what food allergies her child had or what reading band they were on. Mums can only talk about kids, right? They have nothing else interesting to say at all.

‘Do you work with Will?’ asked Stacey when Will gave no descriptor for Rachel. Was she a colleague? A plus one? Or also a mother of someone and therefore needed no further explanation.

‘I do,’ said Rachel, ‘but I’m up in the Manchester office. I thought I’d see how these southerners party for a change,’ she said, grinning at Will.

‘We showed you lot how to party in Copenhagen that time,’ said Will. ‘Beth went off particularly early, I recall. Such a wuss.’

‘She has young kids,’ replied Rachel. ‘She wanted a full night’s sleep more than anything in the world. The rest of us made up for her, though. I seem to remember us totally shouting you lot down in karaoke.’

‘No way,’ grinned Will. ‘Your rendition of “Islands in the Stream” emptied the bar.’

‘You and Henry singing “Don’t Stop Me Now” dragged in the cats from the entire neighbourhood.’

‘We were awesome.’

‘You were properly bad – like, Coldplay bad.’

Stacey watched without really listening as they went back and forth, firing insults that totally went over her head. She watched as their body language defied what they were discussing. Massive grins on their faces, hands gesturing wildly, shoulders arching towards each other. A lively animated conversation they were both thoroughly enjoying. Stacey shrank back. Will didn’t defer back to her again but carried on his conversation with Rachel. They were roaring with laughter over some shared joke now. Something to do with a chipolata at a buffet breakfast in Frankfurt. She sank back in her chair and gazed around the room. The noise levels were high, spirits were even higher. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second, trying to summon up her spirits from earlier. She was at a wonderful party in a wonderful place – she must enjoy herself.

She felt something move at her shoulder and as she opened her eyes a plate appeared in front of her. It looked beautiful but it was small. A single scallop in a shell with something foamy on it. She hadn’t dared eat since lunchtime for fear of what figure-hugging dress Diane was going to bring for her. She was absolutely starving and the scallop in front of her was probably going to be gone in two mouthfuls, if that. She looked around and waited patiently whilst everyone else received their single scallop, and then waited for the first person to pick up their cutlery before she dared pick up her own. She could see a basket of bread rolls in the middle of the table but dared not be the first to reach for them because obviously if she did then she would be labelled Will’s greedy pig girlfriend, wouldn’t she!

Thankfully Carol stood up and grabbed the basket, placing it firmly between her and Stacey.

‘There is no way I’m going to survive on one scallop. Here, have some bread.’ She picked a roll out for herself and then offered Stacey one. Stacey had never been so pleased in her life to grab hold of a bread roll. She could almost cry and she was very tempted to hug the marvellous creature she was sitting next to, and she wasn’t referring to Will.

She divided her scallop into four pieces and tried to make it last as long as possible, dreading the moment when she looked down at her plate – empty – knowing that she would look up and she would be the first one to finish and would be mortified. She did eventually look up to find that Carol had long finished and was on her second roll. Will, however, hadn’t started his yet as he was still talking to Rachel. She was very tempted to swap his plate for hers and tell him he’d eaten it without noticing because, to be fair, she had pretty much eaten hers without noticing too. He did eventually take a breath and glance down at his dish and then at her.

‘Was it good?’ he asked.

‘Delicious,’ she said.

He tucked in. His demeanour had totally changed from when they arrived. He was buzzing and smiling. Like the night had suddenly turned around for him. One of those nights when you bump into someone you don’t expect to and it transforms your evening into one full of potential, hope and optimism. An evening that suddenly held new romance in the air. She remembered those special evenings from her late teens. You might trawl from bar to bar to bar, looking for the slightest hint of new romance, and when you found it, well, your night took a totally different turn. You lit up like a Christmas tree when romance came knocking. Just as Will had lit up from the moment he’d sat down next to Rachel.

Of course, the effect on Stacey was the opposite. Her lights went down to the bottom rung of the dimmer switch. Her night was now so gloomy she could no longer see straight. She tried to turn herself up again. Told herself she should still enjoy the evening, despite the glow coming from Will being aimed at Rachel and not at her, but she wasn’t sure she could do it. She just could not turn her lights up. She closed her eyes again, trying to summon up the Christmas spirits, find a way through what was turning into a Christmas nightmare.

She felt something at her shoulder again. It was Carol’s hand. She turned and looked at her.

‘Not tonight,’ she said, ‘but sometime, you’ll realise that that is a Christmas blessing.’

‘What is?’ asked Stacey.

‘That,’ said Carol, waving at Will fawning over Rachel, his scallop hardly touched. ‘You will realise that actually she’s your Angel Gabrielle, who has arrived to rescue you from, well, from Will, actually.’

Stacey stared at Carol.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m your brand-new truth friend,’ she said. ‘Do you like that? I came up with it the other day, talking another friend down from the slippery pole of romantic hope. I’m not only a true friend, I’m a truth friend. Do you get it?’

‘I get it,’ said Stacey.

‘I think we could all do with a truth friend. There aren’t enough of us to go round,’ added Carol.

‘Did your other friend listen to you?’ asked Stacey.

Carol thought hard about this question. ‘I suspect not,’ she said. ‘I suspect he heard me and it was helpful, but he still did what he was going to do anyway, which was to still go hanging round, hoping for this guy to show up.’

‘Hope does that to you,’ said Stacey with a sigh.

‘Hope and loneliness. You can’t trust hope but you can rely on loneliness.’

‘Not sure that makes any sense,’ replied Stacey.

‘Neither am I, but it sounds kinda good.’

‘So what do I do now?’ asked Stacey.

‘You be my plus one and eat the free food, drink the free drink, dance like no one’s watching and then go home and start all over again.’ Carol picked up her glass and held it up to Stacey’s and they clinked a cheers as she attempted to brighten her lights just a little as she felt her very happy Christmas slip through her fingers.