The Twelve Dates of Christmas (10 page)

Blood. For crying out loud!

She snatched the tissue Eddie was holding out for her. ‘Sorry about that, I’m rather prone to nosebleeds.’

‘You had a
nosebleed
. ON MY FACE.’

‘Yah, soz.’

She scrubbed her cheek and handed him the bloody tissue, then spat on his card and used that to wipe off any remaining traces of his DNA. It was time to go; she was
this close
to vomiting on him.

Claudia bade Eddie and his parents a quick and cordial farewell for ever and walked away through the Wonderland. She furiously shot a text off to Penny: ‘
He brought his parents and had a nosebleed on my face. FUTURE HUSBAND FOUND.
’ Her phone bleeped immediately, with another text from Nick that she didn’t want to read, so she stuffed it back into her pocket.

So, date four of December had been about as successful as the other three, she thought bitterly.

Date two was nice
. But she didn’t want to think about that. About Nick.

Rounding the corner, she found herself in front of the Ferris wheel again. Slowly turning, lit up by calming icicle-blue bulbs, it looked gentle, like it would be peaceful to float in the sky all on your own.

A little fresh air might do her the world of good.

Claudia paid for the ride and waited in the queue for her turn to board. She stared fixedly at the criss-cross patterned ski jacked of the person in front, counting the boxes, ignoring her churning tummy.

Finally she boarded, sitting on the metal seat with an audible ‘ahhh’. Sitting. This was already much better than walking, eating, blind dates, odd parents and other people’s blood.

She closed her eyes.

The wheel moved with a jolt that Claudia wasn’t expecting and her seat swung gaily back and forth. Her eyes shot open and her insides danced like they were at Mardi Gras.

The big wheel was edging upwards and Claudia’s feet dangled a metre or so off the ground. She clasped the sides of the seat, holding tightly and begging it to stop swinging.

She soared higher. Winter Wonderland stretched in front of her, a river of multi-coloured lightbulbs and snow-covered sheds. Children were laughing and pointing up at the Ferris wheel, gagging to get on. She was gagging to get off. Literally.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘This is fun, I’m having an adventure.’

Higher she went, her view of the beautiful hotchpotch rooftops of London widening. The seat was jiggling and shimmying at high speed while the wheel edged excruciatingly slowly around. ‘I feel sick,’ she moaned pitifully to the city.

Claudia felt the nausea rising. No. No, no, no, not here. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She scrunched her eyes closed. She wasn’t swinging, she definitely wasn’t swinging, and she certainly wasn’t sixty metres up in the air. It’ll be over soon. Breathe innnnnnn, breathe ouuuuuuut. She just needed to last a little longer. She could puke all she wanted over the length and breadth of Hyde Park, if only she’d hold out that little bit longer.

She felt the sweats coming.

No.

A guttural cough escaped and she stayed very still. Was that it?

Her breathing was shallow, like she was afraid to make too much noise and disturb the monster that paced around her stomach. Her face felt like someone was pushing a hot, damp sponge through it from the inside, and her breathing quickened.

No, please, no.

I’m at the top
, was her last thought before her body instinctively flung itself to the side of the seat.

Out it came. Out came the snowballs, the mulled wine, the torture. Raining down the full diameter of the Ferris wheel.

Claudia slumped back in her seat, clammy, spent, tears dripping from her eyes. She didn’t want to see the view any more. She just wanted to go home. She leant her heavy head on the bar while the wheel slowly brought her back down to Earth.

Claudia opened her eyes and stared up at a white canvas roof. A woman’s head popped into her line of vision. She had big, curly red hair and rosy cheeks. This is what Mrs Claus must have looked like in her younger days.

‘Hello,’ Claudia rasped.

‘Ooo hello,’ said the lady. ‘Let’s get you a glass of water.’

Claudia pushed herself up onto her elbows and had a good look around. The medical kits, wheelie beds, St John Ambulance logos and general hubbub hinted that she was in a medical tent.

‘You’re in the medical tent, my love,’ said Mrs Claus, coming back with a plastic cup of tepid water. Claudia sat up. Yuk. She tasted like vomit.

Mrs Claus shone a torch in Claudia’s eye that made Claudia want to wail like she worked in a Dickensian workhouse. ‘How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?’

Shame seeped into Claudia’s consciousness. ‘I threw up on the Ferris wheel …’

‘That’s right, my darling,’ said Mrs Claus, strapping the cuff of a blood-pressure gauge around her arm. ‘Then you had a little faint. Very delicately, mind, all curled up like a kitten.’

‘Did I get anyone?’

‘With the vomit? Not that I’m aware of, my darling. I didn’t see anyone throwing a paddy when they called me over.’ She stood. ‘Now, I’m just going to pop outside to buy a few choccie biscuits from one of the stalls because we’ve run out, and we need to up your sugar intake a little. Will you be okay on your own for a second?’

Mrs Claus exited the tent, pinning the door flap wide open. Claudia lay back down and looked out at Winter Wonderland. In her drowsy haze she felt removed from the situation, like she was watching through an advent-calendar window. Outside her little world – of both medical tent and herself in general – people were happy and carefree. Christmas magic whirled around them, excitement building as they counted down the days.

I want to feel like that
, Claudia thought with the tiniest glow of clarity. She
would
feel like that. She was going to embrace Christmas in London and all it had to offer. There were a thousand festivities taking place in the capital this month that Seth would never have enjoyed with her, but Seth was gone. And she wouldn’t let it drift by for another year; she was ready to feel some Christmas magic again.

She was ready to feel at least some kind of magic again. The only person to get her out of this rut could be her, and she was determined to buck up, stop feeling sorry for herself and make her own excitement. In a way, she’d thrown up her old life. Now it was in with the new …

Her phone rang and she reached into her pocket, still gazing at the festivities outside the tent. She answered it without looking at the screen.

‘Hello?’ she mumbled.

‘Claudia!’ Nick’s voice rang with surprise and glee.

Balls.

‘Mmm,’ she grunted.

‘Where are you?’ She heard a rhythmic clack-clack-clack in the background.

Her fuzzy brain couldn’t muster up the anger or bitterness she wanted to project at that point, giving way to that irrepressible feeling everyone gets when they feel poorly – a cry for comfort. ‘I passed out.’

The clacking stopped. ‘What? Where are you? Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at Winter Bloody Wonderland. I puked down the Ferris wheel.’ A small, breathy laugh escaped her. What a day.

‘I’m coming to get you. I’ll take you home.’

‘No!’ Claudia cried, propping herself up on her elbow. She felt wobbly.

‘Claudia—’

Claudia lay back down. Maybe she would quite like someone to take her home. She still felt a little woozy. ‘Can you send Penny?’

‘Penny’s asleep face-down on the sofa. Man, she looked rough.’ The clacking started again, this time faster. ‘I’m already half way to yours with your suitcase.’ Ah, the clacking; it was her suitcase being dragged over the paving slabs of West Kensington. ‘Now where exactly are you?’

She’d have to feel bitter and angry another time. ‘I’m in the medical tent,’ she relented. ‘Thank you.’

Where are those chocolate biscuits when you need them?

Twenty minutes later Claudia was sitting up on the bed, four Penguins in her stomach and a Styrofoam cup of strong tea in her hand. Mrs Claus was chattering on about the various disasters she’d encountered since being with St John Ambulance, which strangely was making Claudia feel better by the minute.

‘… and his finger came clean off! All because of an ice-lolly stick!’ Mrs Claus chuckled, munching on a Penguin of her own.

Now that the nausea had wandered off, those damned butterflies were flittering back. Claudia wasn’t sure what she was going to say to Nick. They couldn’t just brush this under the carpet, but she was in no mood for a heart-to-heart right now. At least she’d wiped the sick off her chin with one of Mrs Claus’s handy wet-wipes.

A skinny man wearing a crisp white shirt with the St John Ambulance logo stuck his head in the tent. ‘Have you got a mo?’ he asked Mrs Claus. ‘We’ve got a mum having a flap about a little lad who’s eaten too much candy floss.’

Mrs Claus dusted the crumbs off her and gave Claudia a last warm smile. ‘You’ll be fine now lovely, but no more rides today, okay?’

‘Thanks for looking after me, and for the stories.’

‘Oooh, you’re welcome. You’re good to go. Your emergency contact is on his way.’ She pottered outside.

Emergency contact?

Claudia stood, stretched and walked to the door of the tent. She spotted Nick immediately, striding over the frosty grass towards the tent, dragging her giant pink suitcase behind him.

Her heart leapt and just for a second she forgot she was angry and hurt, and wanted Nick – her faithful and, actually, incredibly hot Nick – to come on over and sweep her off her feet.

But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring off to his left with hostility.

Claudia followed his gaze.

Also striding over the grass towards her, a look of amusement on his face, was the last person Claudia expected to see.

Seth.

Oh crap.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Claudia spat just before realisation dawned on her. Her donor card. The St John Ambulance woman must have looked through her wallet while she was passed out and called Seth to come and pick her up. ‘You’re my emergency contact …’ Well, that was embarrassing.

‘Also known as your knight in shining armour, at your service.’ Seth oozed self-importance.

‘I’ve got her – you can go,’ Nick said, his face set in a glare she rarely saw. The two men had never warmed to each other, Nick insisting that Seth wasn’t good enough for her and Seth grumbling about Nick being too touchy-feely with his girlfriend. They had reluctantly fallen into dormant frenemy territory, but today the volcano looked close to erupting.

‘That’s all right, Nick, I’ll take her home.’

‘No, you won’t.’

‘Nick.’ Claudia stopped him, she could handle this. ‘No, you won’t,’ she said to Seth.

‘How are you feeling, sweetheart?’ he charmed.

‘I’m just fine, let’s not
sweetheart
each other. I didn’t know the nurse was calling you. You can leave.’

‘Claudia asked me to come,’ said Nick with a smirk.

‘Good for you, but I’m not going anywhere just yet.’

‘She wants you to go.’

‘
Nick
.’ Claudia shushed him with a fierce look and turned back to Seth. ‘Since you’re here, let’s catch up. How’s your girlfriend?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend; I just met her that night. Nothing happened.’

‘Things were happening from where I was standing,’ she flashed. Still, it was nice to hear; she hadn’t reached indifference yet.

Seth lingered closer to Claudia, giving her his ‘I’m sorry’ smile which just happened to be his ‘I’m hot’ smile as well. Her eyes traced the shape of Seth’s lips and curve of his teeth, the length of his stubble, exactly how he always was. ‘I was upset, just trying to replace your sexy self, but how could I do that?’ he said.

‘Yeah, how could you do that?’ asked Nick.

‘I was a bit pissed, and I was upset. I didn’t want things to end like that.’

‘Neither did she, but she didn’t run into someone else’s arms.’

Apart from yours
, thought Claudia. She would bet her life savings Nick was thinking the same.

‘Nick, mate, I don’t remember you being there, so do you want to give us a bit of space?’ Seth asked, his jaw set in a tight line.

Nick responded by putting a heavy arm around Claudia’s shoulders. She felt herself blush, acutely aware of the smell of Nick’s shower gel on his skin, and the warm tickle of the wool in his jumper. Despite the frost, Claudia was blistering in the heat of both men, feeling heady at having them so close. If this were a fiery Latin dance, Nick would have just spun her into him like her body was not her own.

Claudia felt herself losing control of the situation. ‘Go back to wherever you’re staying at the moment,’ she said to Seth, shamefully hoping he wasn’t at a woman’s.

‘I’m just at Paul’s. Don’t be mad, Claud, this is a good thing, a bit of time apart. We can still be friends, we just won’t sleep together any more. No change from usual, hey?’ He laughed and then had the decency to look embarrassed.

‘Wow, I am just getting used to you being gone, and when you say things like that it makes it much easier.’

‘Great apology,
mate
. Now, she’s had enough drama for today, I think.’ Nick moved forward, putting himself in the space between Seth and Claudia. ‘Time for you to leave.’

‘That’s all right,
mate
, you can get going. I’ll look after her; I know what she needs.’

‘You know what I need?’ cried Claudia. ‘You have no idea what I need, that’s the whole problem! All you seem to think I
need
is your willy. Trust me, no girl
needs
a willy.’

‘Say it isn’t so!’ Nick quipped, then composed himself and returned to looking severe.

Seth leant round Nick, a concerned look on his face. ‘Sometimes you needed my willy, though, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t need it now. And I don’t need you, I have Nick.’ Claudia’s insides palpitated when she realised what she had just admitted. Her eyes flicked to Nick, and when they met his she looked away quickly. Her throat was dry. ‘I mean, not for that.’ She was so embarrassed.