The Twelve Dates of Christmas (11 page)

Read The Twelve Dates of Christmas Online

Authors: Lisa Dickenson

Tags: #Chick Lit, #Holiday, #Winter, #Christmas, #Romance

BOOK: The Twelve Dates of Christmas
10.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘I’m going to take her home,’ Nick said to Seth, without a smile.

‘I’ll take her home,’ he replied.

‘No, you won’t.’

‘Mate, all due respect, but I can go to my own house.’

‘WHY DON’T YOU GO AND ROLL AROUND IN THE PILE OF SICK I LEFT BY THE FERRIS WHEEL INSTEAD?’

Both men, and a handful of merry-makers passing by, fell silent and gawped at her. Perhaps not the classiest thing to have said, but she felt she’d got her point across.

Her head cleared. Nothing like the remnants of a hangover, a puke and the overwhelming urge to kick someone in the nuts to snap you back to reality. ‘I’m not a toy, Seth. You can’t dump me, hook up with another girl, not even stand up for me in front of her and then come back a few days later, standing all close, calling me sexy, trying to keep me interested. Well, I’m not interested. Get away from me.’

She shrugged out from under Nick’s arm. She hadn’t forgotten how she’d been a puppet on a string for him last night, either. He was protective
now
– arms around her
now
– but he had shot her down only hours ago. ‘And you, get off … I’m not your girlfriend.’ This three-person tango had to end.

Claudia didn’t really want to be around either man, but was still a bit jelly-legged and, annoyingly, would appreciate some company on the walk home. Nick was the lesser of two evils.

‘You’re right babe, I’m sorry.’ Seth tried to hold her arms but she spun away.

She faced Nick yet couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘Please will you walk me back?’

She started off before he could answer, and the two of them stamped across Hyde Park, Nick dragging the suitcase. Claudia’s face was hot and pink against the freezing wind. They walked in silence, all the way back to Claudia’s flat. Nick carried her suitcase up the stairs and they stopped at her door. Claudia was no longer nervous about going inside, but was anxious about being out here with Nick.

‘Thank you for bringing me back. And for my suitcase.’ She didn’t look at him.

‘Do you want to talk?’

‘No. No, right now I just want to sleep.’

‘Okay.’ They stood awkwardly for a moment, then Nick leant down and wrapped Claudia in a big, warm, familiar hug. She sank in to him a fraction.

He spoke quietly into her ear. ‘You’re right here, but I feel like we’re a million miles apart at the moment.’ He let her go and walked away without looking back.

For the second time ever, Claudia entered her flat as a single woman. This time she didn’t crumble at the photos or swoon at the breakfast cereal. This time she stacked up all the picture frames, hiding the face she didn’t want to look at. She went to the back of the wardrobe and pulled out a brand-new set of bed linen she’d bought years ago because she’d loved its bright Moroccan pinks and oranges, but Seth had refused to use. She yanked the beige-striped linen off the bed, throwing it straight into the recycling box.

As she shook the duvet into its new cover her mind twisted and back-flipped around Nick’s parting words, dissecting every one. Their relationship had shifted for him too, but were they both heading down the same path? Did he want to just stay friends? Did
she
want to just stay friends, if it really came down to it? Was she subconsciously doing something to keep the distance between them?

The bed was ready; Claudia stripped off her clothes and climbed under the cool covers. She lay on ‘her’ side of the bed, looking at the blank space next to her, the uncreased other pillow. She stretched her hand out and felt … nothing. Seth was really gone.

‘You told me you’d never leave me,’ she whispered to the space. ‘You said it so many times. But you were telling me lies. And now I’m lonely.’ Some tears came and she let them. She felt like these might be the last, and they needed to come and not be wiped away or told to stop.

‘Listen to me, Seth. Listen to me. I’m getting over you,’ she choked. ‘I won’t keep dreaming about the life we’ll never have and the things that’ll never happen. You’re not my maker, and I’m going to make it without you.’

She was going to make it.

The world seemed brighter when Claudia awoke the next morning. Although the sun was yet to stretch up over the horizon, the dawn light behind the curtains was more opal than slate. She had slept for nearly sixteen hours, and her stomach growled to complain about it.

She stepped her rested, naked body out from under her beautiful duvet and padded over to the window, grabbing her dressing gown en route. Pulling back the curtains she gasped at the street below. The entire dark grey road and all the rooftops and chimneys of London were covered in thick white snow, tinted Tiffany blue by the early-morning sky. Looking up, she saw fat white flakes lazily drifting down from the clouds and she smiled. She’d made it.

Claudia pushed her iPod into its dock and cranked up her Christmas playlist. To the classic sounds of The Ronettes and Wizzard she danced her way through the flat, flicking on the multi-coloured lights of the Christmas tree, rehanging some tinsel that had fallen off a picture frame, filling the expensive coffee maker they’d hardly ever used with her stash of finest Hawaiian hazelnut coffee.

‘Hello
me
,’ she said to her reflection, and – to hell with the ballet – threw some amazing shapes that would have made Beyoncé snap her up as a backing dancer.

Getting through her first night alone in the flat, giving Seth a piece of her mind, allowing herself to have a good cry and leaving things a bit odd but not
too
horrendous with Nick had all contributed to lifting the gloom and making her feel like the Ghost of Christmas Present. Even better – the one from
The Muppet Christmas Carol
. She’d vowed at Hyde Park that she wouldn’t let Christmas pass her by.

She wanted pancakes. Not because Seth didn’t like them and she rarely made them just for her, but because
she wanted
them. She merrily mixed up a batch of her favourite peanut butter and bacon batter and fried three large fluffy pancakes. She poured half a bottle of maple syrup on the top, popped a Santa hat on her head and settled down on the sofa to watch
Sunday Brunch
.

‘Single life is great!’ she told Tim Lovejoy and Simon Rimmer through a mouthful of pancakes, while they sampled Christmas cocktails on the TV.

Her phone tinkled with its text-message reindeer bells. ‘Good morning,’ she said to it as she reached into her dressing-gown pocket.

Seth. ‘Go away,’ she mumbled, but opened the message anyway. No more avoiding things like a big old scaredy cat.


Sorry about yesterday. Didn’t mean to upset you and be an arse. Tried to make an awkward situation lighter, but made it more awkward. You know me! Hope we can talk it through some time, when I’m not claiming territory like an idiot and you don’t smell of puke xx

Hmm. ‘I don’t think I want to talk to you at the moment,’ she said, carefully laying her phone down at the opposite end of the sofa. ‘I’m quite happy talking to myself.’

Claudia was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a biro dangling out of her mouth, staring at Cameron Diaz’s beautiful hair in
The Holiday
, when there was a knock on the door. She spat out the biro and pushed aside a confetti of half-written Christmas cards.

‘Who could this be, eh Claud?’ she whispered, heading to the door and pressing the buttons on her huge, gaudy Christmas-tree earrings so they came alive with lights scampering over the shiny plastic. Even if it were one of those pesky men, she felt ready to handle it.

‘Merry Christmas my darling!’ shrieked a petite blonde woman with a year-round tan and the pinkest of pink lipstick. Nick’s
mum
.

‘Christine!’ Claudia exclaimed, enveloped in a hug doused with Ralph Lauren Romance.

‘Hope you don’t mind me stopping by, love,’ she said, shuffling into the house and dropping her oversized handbag on the floor. ‘It’s jolly cold out there you know, the snow’s threatening to stop all the trains but they can’t stop Christine. Oooh, that coffee smells nice, mind if I grab one? Love your earrings by the way, my darling.’

Christine and Claudia were close and could natter for hours, but they rarely hung out without Nick in tow. What was she up to?

Christine reemerged from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee, handed one to Claudia and pulled a huge box of Marks and Spencer chocolate biscuits out of her handbag. She settled down on an armchair and gestured for Claudia to take a seat, too.

‘How are you doing, my angel?’

‘I’m okay thanks, you?’

‘Same old with me, my love. Pilates is going well, though I think the instructor has a thing for me. Looking forward to seeing you all at Christmas for the wedding. But I want to talk about you. I heard about Seth.’

‘Yes. Not the best Christmas pressie.’

‘What a little twerp he is. How are you feeling about it all?’

‘I’m actually okay. I’ve been a bit all over the place, but think I’m coming through the other side now.’

‘That’s good to hear. Been keeping yourself busy?’

‘Non-stop, actually. Some good distractions.’

‘That’s good. Any Christmas parties?’

Claudia eyed Christine with suspicion. Where was this going? ‘Just the one so far, with Nick and Penny.’

‘And did you have a magical time?’

‘Yes … it was
quite
magical.’

Christine was staring at her, trying to make her crack.
Plop
. Three-quarters of her chocolate-coated ginger nut fell into her coffee, after drowning by excessive dunkage, leaving Christine clutching a melting corner in her baby-pink talons.

‘How’s the job?’ she asked, changing tack.

‘It’s okay. Same old. You know I don’t want to be there for ever.’

‘So what are you being a ninny about, then? Take the Royal Ballet job!’ Christine visibly relaxed, a weight off her shoulders. She put down her mug and sat back, worn out by her outburst.

Claudia smiled. ‘Nick told you, then?’

‘Of course he did,’ Christine said proudly. Proud of herself for getting it out of him, rather than of Nick for setting it up. ‘He was all excited and chuffed with himself, banging on about making you happy and getting to work with you every day.’

Claudia munched a biscuit to hide her guilty face.

‘I said to him,’ Christine continued, ‘won’t you three get sick of each other, all day, every day? But he was adamant it would be just brilliant. Why wouldn’t he want to spend as much time as possible with a girl he loves. His words.’

‘As friends, Christine, as friends!’ Claudia spluttered, a blush creeping up over her face.

‘Mmm-hmm. So are you going to take it?’

‘I haven’t decided yet.’ She really had to make her mind up. She was coming around to the idea, but every time she thought about watching them all dancing from the sidelines she couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss. She was having trouble deciding if she could live like that for a year.

‘So what’s my son, your
friend
, up to today?’ Christine pried.

‘I don’t know, aren’t you going to see him?’

‘No, I think I’d better get back home before the snow gets much heavier. You don’t know where he is?’

‘No,’ Claudia laughed. ‘We don’t all have synchronised diaries.’

‘Are you sure it’s not because you’re avoiding him?’ Christine had stopped beating around the bush and was practically standing tall right in the middle of it.

‘Oh my, he told you that too?’

‘He didn’t have to. I called him last night and he was such a Mr Mopeypants I knew something was wrong. Especially when he said he didn’t know what you were going to do about the job. You three know everything about each other.’

‘It’s quite complicated.’

‘Was he mean to you?’

‘No.’

‘Did he stab you in the back?’

‘No.’

‘Did he side with Seth?’

‘No!’

‘Well make up with him, won’t you, love? He’s usually such a happy thing at this time of year, I hate seeing him wallowing about. I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed over a Sunday roast.’

Christine slurped the rest of her coffee and grabbed a few more biscuits from the box before heading to the door. ‘Must dash, my love, I want to do a spot of Christmas shopping at John Lewis before I head home.’

‘I thought you were worried about the snow?’ Claudia teased.

Christine winked and shrugged on her coat. She kissed Claudia on the cheek. ‘Be friends with Nick again. Don’t lose the people who know you the best.’

‘I just lost Seth,’ said Claudia.

‘Pssh, Seth never really knew you. If he did he’d have loved you so much he would never have been such a prat and left. Call Nick.’

She wafted away down the corridor; such a meddler, but always right.

The snow had stopped falling and the clouds had drifted away. A brilliant blue sky domed over London and the fluffy whiteness sparkled in the sunshine. It looked like a nice day for a walk and a pub lunch. Claudia reached for her phone.

Claudia and Nick strolled along the South Bank, the only sound coming from the slushing of their feet in the melting snow. Next to them, the Thames was a proud, choppy brown and the Clipper boats whizzed up and down with the bucketloads of tourists who were descending on the city in the run-up to Christmas.

They hadn’t said more than a hello since meeting ten minutes ago.

Then Nick asked, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better, thanks.’ Another few minutes passed. Under Waterloo Bridge they passed the long tables of second-hand books surrounded by brave people extracting their fingers from gloves to have a closer look. Opposite, the Technicolor-graffitied undercroft buzzed with skateboarders and BMX bikers jumping, spinning, tumbling and laughing, while Rat Pack Christmas classics blasted from a stereo. ‘How cool is all this snow?’

‘Icy cool,’ Nick wisecracked, his face struggling with the seriousness of the mood and glee at the real winter wonderland he was standing in. He peeped sideways at Claudia and they shared amused smiles.

‘So, your mum came to see me.’

‘Whaaaat?’ cried Nick, stopping. ‘My mum is so embarrassing. What did she say?’

Other books

New Leaves, No Strings by C. J. Fallowfield
Disturbia (The 13th) by Manuel, Tabatha
Lawman's Redemption by Marilyn Pappano
Voices Carry by Mariah Stewart
First Fruits by Penelope Evans
Magic and the Texan by Martha Hix
Hothouse Flower by Lucinda Riley
Far From The Sea We Know by Frank Sheldon
Letters to My Daughters by Fawzia Koofi