The Twelve Dates of Christmas
Read The Twelve Dates of Christmas Online
Authors: Lisa Dickenson
Tags: #Chick Lit, #Holiday, #Winter, #Christmas, #Romance
Lisa Dickenson
was born in the wrong body. She was definitely meant to be Beyoncé. Despite this hardship, she grew up in Devon attempting to write her own, completely copyright-infringing versions of
Sweet Valley High
, before giving Wales a go for university, and then London a go for the celeb-spotting potential. She’s now back in Devon, living beside the seaside with her husband and forcing cream teas down the mouths of anyone who’ll visit. She is sadly still not Beyoncé.
The Twelve Dates of Christmas
is Lisa’s first novel and was the winner of the Novelicious Debut of the Year Award in 2013. Follow her on Twitter for all her book news and Beyoncé-related chatter:
@
LisaWritesStuff
.
Praise for
The Twelve Dates of Christmas
:
‘Filled with sweet romance, clever and hilarious dialogue and a heroine you’d definitely want to root for.
A fabulously written Christmas read
you wouldn’t want to miss. 10/10’
iheart-chicklit.blogspot.co.uk
‘I bloody loved it!
I laughed so hard
that people were staring at me! I cried, I got a little hot under the collar … and then I laughed some more …
The biggest, most sparkly, snow-dusted 5/5!
Tishy Lou,
tishylou.wordpress.com
‘A fun read
full of wit and comedic moments
that will have you chuckling away as you read. Reading about the journey home on the tube had me in stitches’
Shaz’s Book Blog
‘Fresh and hilarious … I can’t remember the last time a book made me laugh like this …
If you buy one Christmas book this year, it has to be this one.
You will laugh, you will cry, you will go awwww and then you’ll laugh all over again 5/5’
Holly Martin,
hollymartinwriter.wordpress.com
Also by Lisa Dickenson
You Had Me at Merlot
Published by Sphere
ISBN: 9780751557305
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Lisa Dickenson 2013
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Sphere
Little, Brown Book Group
100 Victoria Embankment
London, EC4Y 0DY
The Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
The Royal Ballet’s Christmas party, Covent Garden
The Shard, London Bridge Quarter
The Ice Rink at the Natural History Museum, Kensington
St Paul’s Cathedral, City of London
Claudia’s flat, West Kensington
Hummingbird Bakery, South Kensington
Christmas Day at Claudia’s dad’s house, Frostwood
The Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
Claudia’s underwear was evil and it was going to ruin everything. She fanned herself, one eye on the clock. She would not cry over a stupid cheap corset she’d got off the internet, even if it was completely locked to her body, upside down, and she had to leave in three minutes’ time for her first really posh date in years.
‘Get – off – me.’ She gripped the material and pulled down with all her might, but it wouldn’t budge.
Online, the corset had looked far more Agent Provocateur than Moulin Rouge fancy dress, but it would still be a treat for Seth at the end of their enchanting evening. Only when she’d done it all the way up the front to find her bosoms still page-three-free did she realise her error. Then it wouldn’t undo. The damned hook-and-eyes had become ensnared in the fabric and the more she pulled and tugged the more it gripped hold of her.
Tonight had to go well. If everything was perfect and romantic they could do this more often and things wouldn’t seem so … flat. Their relationship was
fine
, but watching other people’s lives on TV together every night and cooking the same old dinners in their PJs was making Claudia worry life was passing them by. She was not going to be stuck in a rut at thirty, so it was time to do something about it.
She heard his footsteps coming toward their bedroom.
‘Wait!’
‘What?’ Seth called through the door. ‘We’ve got to go.’
This corset would not derail their big night. With a shot of strength to rival the Incredible Hulk, Claudia struggled, tore and ripped the corset off her body, releasing her pink skin. Panting, she allowed herself a five-second victory dance before grabbing the first undies that came to hand.
‘Just wait there a minute.’ She sat down in front of her dresser and twisted a handful of diamantés into her dark hair, then ripped the cellophane wrapper off a second packet and went to town with them, too. You can’t have too many sparkles at Christmas. She pouted flirtatiously at her reflection. This was the first time she’d ever worn red lipstick and she
thought
it worked – hopefully it was more Taylor Swift than Joan Collins. Leaning into the mirror, she bared her teeth. The whitening toothpaste was definitely making a difference. ‘You’re a FOX – oops,’ she whispered, dabbing the spit from over-pronouncing the word ‘fox’ off the mirror.
She pulled on her brand new dress.
Scarlet
, no less. Tonight she would be dazzling and witty, and Seth would see her as his beautiful girlfriend – and not his glorified roommate – once more.
‘I’m ready. No – wait,’ she smiled to herself. ‘This is our first date: you have to pick me up.’ Why she was mimicking Katharine Hepburn’s accent she had no idea, it just seemed to fit with ‘dazzling and witty’.
There was silence behind the door. ‘What are you on about, “first date”?’
‘Well, our first date in a really long time. It’s special. Knock on the door.’
Claudia heard him sigh, but he banged on the doorframe. ‘Hellooooo, I’m here for our date.’
She flung open the door and grinned. After a moment he looked up from his phone. ‘You look nice. You ready?’
Claudia shimmied like she’d learned in Zumba. It probably didn’t look as hot as she hoped, since she nearly toppled out of her heels. ‘Do you like my dress?’ she prompted.
Please like my dress. It’s for you.
‘Yep, it’s nice,’ he said, hitting send on his phone and stuffing it into his suit jacket. ‘Come on then.’
‘It’s red. Like LOVE.’
‘Yep.’
For crying out loud, Seth, meet me half way
. He couldn’t have sounded more lacklustre if he’d tried. But this evening was about more than a red dress, so she brushed it aside and thought with excitement of their evening to come.
Claudia slipped her arm into his as she tottered out of the flat. It was a cold but clear night, and the strings of Christmas lights across the street blended into the starry sky.
This was the best Christmas present she could ask for, the perfect start to the season. This date, hopefully the first of many, was a new beginning for her and Seth, a rekindling of their romance. She was just brimming with anticipation.
‘I
love
our first date so far.’ She beamed up at Seth, treating him to her megawatt combo of scarlet lips and Hollywood-white gnashers, Marilyn-style. He looked down at her, amused.
‘What’s with all this “first date” stuff? We go on dates—’
‘Not proper dates; the pub with friends doesn’t count. This is a
proper
date.’ She blew him a kiss. ‘It’s romantic.’
Seth flung an arm around Claudia’s neck and sighed. ‘All right, fusspot, let’s romance you up. There’s nowhere I feel more romantic than at a bloody ballet!’ He winked and pulled her in close.
Urgh, Claudia didn’t want to see his willy. Not here, in a toilet cubicle of the Royal Opera House, in the middle of
The Nutcracker
. But there it was, gazing up at her. She scowled back.
‘I really do need a wee. I wasn’t expecting you to follow me in here.’ Her eyes shifted to the smug face of the willy’s owner.
‘Bet you’re glad I did though, eh?’ Seth twitched his penis so it gave a jaunty bow like the head of a nodding dog. He flexed his fingers thoughtfully in front of her chest then put his hands on his hips. ‘Why are you in a huff?’
‘This was supposed to be a romantic date—’
‘Well what do you call this?’ He shook his willy back and forth. ‘Mr Romance is ready for you!’
Claudia put her face in her hands, blocking her eyes from the unblinking one-eyed stare and hoping it would go away. It was very off-putting. It also made her want to laugh, but from experience she knew that wouldn’t go down well. ‘We’re at the ballet, at the
Royal Opera House
, on our first date in ages, and you’re in the toilets showing me your own
penis
ballet. Please can we just go back to our seats?’
‘And, once again, you don’t want to have sex.’ Ouch. He’d noticed? Of course he had – she knew he would have – but the less frequent things got, the more often she was able to push it to the back of her mind and act like nothing had changed. Busted.
Claudia emerged from her hands. Seth looked down at her coldly and she felt herself turning as red as her dress; her new ‘reignite the passion’ dress.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, I love … that … I just … ’ She hated confrontation and now was so not the place. ‘I just think we need a bit of romance back in our relationship.’
Seth zipped himself back up, furiously. ‘I try to romance you every bloody day! And most of the time you’re having none of it. When we first got together you’d do it with me
anywhere
—’
Nice. It wasn’t anywhere.
‘You were sexy and exciting. But I guess you’re not that person any more. You’re the problem here. YOU ARE THE PROBLEM.’
Claudia wanted to say so much, to voice every frustration and all the pain she’d felt. She knew she needed to put more effort into the relationship, but so did he. They were in a rut because of
both
of them. But it seemed like every time she tried to make things a bit more special, to make their lives more fun, he interpreted that as ‘have more sex’. She wanted to tell him, preferably in a profound, witty and indisputable way, how she wanted to feel loved and desired and wooed. She wanted to feel like
The Nutcracker
’s leading lady, Clara, pirouetting out there on the stage, the lucky cow, and to be taken on out-of-this-world adventures. But her brain refused to engage in such thoughts, being completely preoccupied by his words instead.
You WERE sexy and exciting …
‘Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like you love me that much any more.’ Her voice broke and at that moment she loathed herself. Stop crying.
No.
‘Like it’s
only
about the sex.’
He didn’t move towards her or wipe her tears.
Touch my face!
she screamed silently.
‘Well it’s definitely not about the sex now, is it?’ His words hung in the air.
She heard her heart thudding, her quiet breathing. She studied the collar of his shirt.
‘Five years, Claudia. It’s a long time to hold the interest, especially when you’re turning me down left, right and centre.’
What was happening? Oh God …
She stared at him, dumbfounded, as he flung open the door of the cubicle. He turned back, his face impassive. ‘Let’s not force this. Sounds like we’re both a bit bored. I guess we’re done here.’
We’re done here?
We’re done here?
Had she been dismissed?
As he stormed from the bathroom she stood frozen, staring at her face in the mirror. She looked at her green eyes, her dark hair, her stupid red dress. It was a flared, fifties-style one – not sexy or exciting.
Five years.
We’re done here.
A tornado had just blown through her life and ripped it in half in the space of five minutes. Why didn’t she just have sex with him more often? Silly dates didn’t matter. Dressing up, going out, adventures didn’t matter. What had she done?