All I Want Series Boxset, Books 1-3: All I Want for Christmas, All I Want for Valentine's, All I Want for Spring (3 page)

So yes, love. It’s come my way twice, and if I’m honest, I sometimes wonder if I’ve used up my lot. Should I have married Amy and stayed in Bristol? I might already be a mother — I knew Amy was.

I shook my head. No, I’d done the right thing moving east. But now, 18 months later and after precisely three one-night stands and a four-date fling, I was ready to get back in the game. I wanted a girlfriend. I’d already fallen in love with city life, which took a little time for a country bumpkin like me. Now, I was ready to fall in love for real with a living, breathing woman, rather than that mannequin in Top Shop who I always think would make a fine lesbian. 

Tomorrow night was date one. Her name was Ruby.

If she kissed anything like Nicola Sheen, that would be amazing.

CHAPTER 3

Monday November 28th

I was a Cancerian and Ruby was a Scorpio. According to most experts, that meant we were a match made in lesbo-heaven. If we got together, my future was set to be awash with emotional rapport, empathy, compassion and sensitivity. One site I checked last night even said we were ‘sextile’, whatever that meant. One thing was certain — even before Ruby turned up, we were destined for greatness.

We’d arranged to meet in the West End, in a run-of-the-mill Soho boozer. It wasn’t a gay bar, but then again, there weren’t many of those left these days. Apparently with equal marriage and all the rest, we simply didn’t need gay bars any more. I wasn’t sure I agreed.

I loved this part of Christmas — the build-up. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the day itself too, but it was the anticipation that thrilled me every year. When I was little, my parents would bring me to the West End to see the Christmas lights as an annual treat. We’d get hot chocolate, hot dogs and cinnamon donuts, and the size and sparkle of the event never failed to amaze me. Even now, years later, the sight of the West End Christmas lights still flush my insides with festive cheer. They also make me miss my dad so much, I have to stop and catch my breath.

I’d styled my shoulder-length chestnut hair with a new product, but it felt odd, like a dry alien life-form perched on top of my scalp. However, my foundation was smoothed in, my lipstick so bright it could stop ships. I’d done a fashion show for Holly the night before and we’d settled on some tailored black trousers and a black shirt — simple, but effective. The stage was set, now I just needed my Juliet. Or Ruby, as the case may be.

I bought myself a glass of Merlot and nabbed a table at the back of the pub. It was November 28th and already the place was overrun with Christmas spirit — by that, I mean drunk office workers. Scarves lay abandoned on the scuffed wooden floor as drinks were hoisted, ties were loosened and heels crunched on broken glass. London had come alive to celebrate the imminent birth of baby Jesus.

I recognised Ruby straight away from her profile picture — she had crazy curly hair, so she was easy to spot. She struck me as the kind of person who was always catching her breath, always rushing, always late. She just had that aura about her.

It was her love of tennis that had drawn me to her profile — that, and the fact she made a good joke about cats. I was desperate for a cat, but Holly wasn’t keen — I was still working on her. If I ended up with Ruby, not only were we sextile, we’d also have cats. Perhaps three of them.

She squeezed past the crowd to sit down in the chair I pushed out for her. Ruby was carrying a pint of lager and a posh-looking laptop bag that screamed “steal me!”.

She shook off her coat and smoothed herself down, before we smiled shyly at each other and shook hands. She had a strong handshake, not too firm, just right.

Ruby turned out to be in the music industry. I pricked up my ears — not only cats and perfect compatibility, but also free gig tickets on the horizon. This was getting better. She was around my age but needed a better moisturising routine — the skin around her eyes and mouth was dry and drawn — but winter could do that to you. She was wearing a floral perfume that she’d clearly just reapplied, and her pink lips were rounded and glistening with lip balm. I leaned closer to get a look at the logo that was stamped liberally around her shirt.

“Is it a squirrel?” I pointed my finger at one of the animals sitting happily on her breast. However, Ruby moved at that critical moment and my finger brushed her nipple.

She shot backwards as if I’d just slapped her.

I held up a hand as my cheeks hissed into red action. “Sorry — I was just pointing at the animal on your breast.” More blushing. “I mean, your shirt. Is it a squirrel?” This wasn’t going well.

Luckily, Ruby had a sense of humour. She peered down at her shirt. “That’s a funny-looking squirrel — it was a rabbit last time I looked.” She gave me a grin. “So, is this a usual habit — feeling up your dates within five minutes?” She took a sip of her pint, never taking her eyes from me.

I blushed a deeper shade of red. “I normally give it at least ten.”

But after that, things took a turn for the better. One thing I didn’t have to worry about was flowing conversation. Ruby liked to talk. And talk and talk, which suited me as I was happy to listen, smile, nod and assess. Was Ruby going to be my future girlfriend? I was just happy that the chat was about celebrities, the best lunchtime salads, cats and tennis. 

“So do you have a cat?”

Ruby shook her head. “I’d like one, but it’s just not very practical. Living in a flat-share isn’t the ideal environment for a couple of kittens, is it? When I get a place of my own, which will be in about 200 years at the current rate of progress with my finances, then maybe.” She sighed and sat back in her chair. “Until then, I’m going to be catless and sad.” She pouted to emphasise the point.

I decided Ruby was a contender — she had an easy smile and was wearing heels, which showed effort or stupidity, depending on how you looked at it. Her hair looked like it had been dipped in sunshine and she made me feel completely at ease, which was no mean feat. Perhaps the girlfriend quest would be over before December had even dawned? Perhaps Ruby was the one to tip the balance and prove that not everyone on the internet was desperate? 

She seemed too good to be true. Why the hell was she still single?

***

Two hours later, I had my first clue as to just why that might be.

First, Ruby was a fan of drinking and this became obvious to me just over an hour into our date. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a teetotal prude, far from it. However, Ruby was on to her fifth pint of lager while I was still sipping my second glass of wine. Perhaps she was nervous and deserved the benefit of the doubt? All of a sudden, that wrinkled skin around her eyes made more sense.

Second, by her fifth pint, she also told me she’d love to introduce me to Jesus Christ our Lord. A personal introduction? I was flattered.

“What are you doing on Thursday?” Ruby asked, her eyes glassy, her skin blotchy.

“Why?” Nothing that involved her, I was pretty sure.

“We’ve got a special ‘Let Jesus Into Your Life At Christmas’ evening at our church. I’d love for you to come along,” she replied.

“Oh, I’m busy on Thursday,” I lied, smiling.

I checked my watch. With any luck, Holly should be ringing any minute now with my get-out-of-jail phone call.

Holly forgot her emergency call.

CHAPTER 4

Tuesday November 29th

“An extra hour of pain and an extra £7 — that’s what your failed call cost me.” I scowled at Holly from one end of our grey sofa. She was lying on the longer part as usual, with the TV set to the food channel. When left alone, Holly had been known to ingest three or four hours of food programming at a time. It was a habit that needed checking occasionally.

“Why £7?”

“That’s how much my extra glass of wine cost me.” I paused. “I should charge you.”

Holly spluttered as she laughed. “You could try, but I don’t think you’d get very far.”

I sighed and spread my palms upwards. “I’m just not sure this internet dating game is for me. I mean, how can things go so wrong? On paper, she was perfect.” I sighed. “We’re on to day four now, it’s nearly December. I don’t have time to waste.”

“You’re being unrealistic. This was your first date. The next one is bound to be better. I mean, it really has to be judging by what you just told me.” Holly was eating a packet of pickled onion Monster Munch and the smell was seeping into every square inch of the living room.

“I know,” I said. “But it was a pretty inauspicious start.” I frowned my best frown.

“It could have been worse — at least she was pretty.” Holly licked her fingers of Monster Munch debris. “And she liked a bit of Jesus, so what? You like Barry Manilow, everybody has their vices.” She gave me a wide grin. “Anyhow, date number two is a goer. I can feel it in my bones. What’s her name again?”

“Anna,” I replied.

Holly gave a curt nod. “She sounds reliable. Anna won’t let you down. She’ll laugh at your jokes, I guarantee it.”

I didn’t look so sure. “I dunno — she sounds like a librarian.”

Holly scrunched up her face. “And what’s wrong with librarians? Without them, the world would be in chaos. In my experience, librarians are cool, calm and collected. And they know where you left your keys.”

“She’s not
actually
a librarian. She does something in the City.”

Holly yawned, mouth wide open, arms stretched above her head. “Even better. Ordered and rich. She can sort your spreadsheets out. And if this one fails, just remember, you’ve got me to come home to. What could be better?”

I gave her a wide smile. “Just don’t forget the phone call this time, okay?”

“That’s the spirit,” Holly replied.

CHAPTER 5

Thursday December 1st

I was sitting in the staff lounge when my phone went — it was my mum. I turned down the radio, which was blaring out ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’, the original Band Aid version.

“Hey kiddo.” It was my mum’s standard greeting. “Just calling to make sure your December plans are in place.”

I smiled a sad smile — Mum did this call every year now. It used to be the province of my dad, the original Christmas enthusiast and the person who had pumped the festive season into an unmissable yearly excitement-fest for me.

Unfortunately, he’d also died on the same day seven years earlier, just a few months after my 20th birthday. An untimely heart attack on his second favourite day of the year, December 1st. Despite that though, Mum had carried on their traditions without missing a beat, even though I know how hard that must have been for her. And now, here she was, keeping the spirit alive.

“All good — I’ll be putting up the tree and the decorations later, like always,” I said.

“Did you get the Advent calendar?”

I swallowed down some tears that threatened. Even seven years on, they could take me by surprise. “I did, thanks. It arrived yesterday.”

Dad always bought us all individual calendars for the festive season, and this was another tradition that had continued even when I’d left home. Dad said he’d do it until I was married, then my wife could take over. For now, it was still Mum calling the Advent calendar shots.

“I got you a chocolate one — got myself a picture one, though. You’re still young enough, I’ve got to watch my waistline.”

I blinked as I pictured my dad with his chocolate calendar. He was always up first and he’d always eaten his chocolate before anyone else, like a naughty schoolboy. I always assumed he’d been hard done by as a child, but apparently not — he just loved Christmas and chocolate.

“How you doing?” My voice was shaky, but I knew Mum would understand.

“I’m okay,” she replied. “Some days are better than others.” A pause. “But I still love Christmas, still love all the memories we made over the years.” She rallied. “I bought your gran a calendar too. She told me I was mad, but I think she was secretly pleased.”

I chuckled down the phone. “Like every year?”

“Pretty much.” She paused. “So what’s new with you — job okay?”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Yep, all fine. Job’s good, and I’m on a dating marathon to find a girlfriend by Christmas. It’s not going too well so far.”

I could hear Mum frown down the phone.

“Stop frowning,” I said.

“How do you know I’m frowning?”

“I just do.”

A pause. “A dating marathon? Those two words don’t sound like they go together.”

“You might be right, but I’ll let you know after date two, which is tonight.”

Another pause — I could tell Mum wasn’t behind this plan. “Why the sudden rush to get a girlfriend?”

“I just thought it was time, you know.” I let the sentence hang, and so did my mum.

“And what does Holly have to say about this?” she asked eventually.

“About the same as you — she thinks I’m being ridiculous.”

My mum’s soft laugh landed in my ear. “Well, tell her hi from me, and tell her she’s welcome at Christmas too.”

“I will,” I said. “Listen, I have to go. Thanks for the calendar. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, but just be careful,” Mum replied. “You’re my only daughter and I worry about your heart. Listen to what Holly says, I trust her.”

“More than you trust me?” There was a slight hint of indignation in my voice.

“Sometimes, yes.”