The Twelve Dates of Christmas

by Jenny Bayliss

  Matt put his hands on Evelyn’s shoulders. She looked very small, standing there in the dark shivering, and Kate noticed for the first time that Evelyn was getting old.

  “We’ve got this, Evelyn,” said Matt kindly. “Now get yourself off to bed.”

  Evelyn didn’t argue. She nodded once and climbed the steps to her front door.

  “Tally ho, chaps!” she said, and disappeared into her apartment above the shop.

  The remaining three unloaded the Christmas trees and stood them up against the wall in Evelyn’s yard. With the trees safely stowed, Pete waved cheerio and drove back to the farm in his Jeep; his day would be just beginning and it would be a long one too with Patrick incapacitated.

  Five enormous bags stuffed full of Kate’s Christmas fancies sat on the snowy path. They glittered beneath the streetlamp.

  “Can I leave them in the van and pick them up later?” Kate yawned.

  “I’ll drop you back,” said Matt. “And help you in with them.”

  “There’s no need,” said Kate. “I don’t mind walking.”

  Matt shook his head.

  “Get in the bloody van,” he said. And Kate did as she was told.

  * * *

  • • • • •

  “What’s the next date?” Matt asked, dumping the last bag in Kate’s hallway.

  “Escape room,” said Kate. She was so tired now, she could barely focus.

  “Crikey!” said Matt. “I hope your date’s a patient man.”

  “What do you mean?” said Kate.

  “Well, you’re bossy at the best of times,” said Matt. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ll be like in a time-pressured environment.”

  Kate reached out to swipe him, but she was sleepy and her reflexes were slow. Matt dodged effortlessly out of her reach and out the front door. He waved at her as he trundled down the path and she stuck two fingers up and her tongue out at him and closed the door. She patted herself on the back. He’ll never know, she thought.

  THE NINTH DATE OF CHRISTMAS

  • • • • •

  Clashes, Kisses, and Bust-Ups

  Kate didn’t wake up until midday. The world outside her window was thickly blanketed in white once more and the weak sun looked as bleary as she felt.

  At the bottom of the garden, Mac, welly deep in snow, tended the vegetable patch: tweed cap pulled on tight, his trusty wheelbarrow by his side. Kate knocked on the window and her dad looked up and smiled.

  * * *

  • • • • •

  A quick shower later and she was padding down the stairs in her furry snowflake bed-socks with pompoms, a pair of elastic-waist tartan leisure trousers, and an old sweater she’d once borrowed from Dan and accidentally-on-purpose never returned.

  Today was comfort day. Today was for decorating the house with the spoils from last night’s shopping extravaganza. Today was for eating comfort food every hour, on the hour.

  In time-honored tradition Laura would be over later with the kids to help decorate the house. Mina took this role very seriously; she had an eccentric decorating style, as most four-year-olds did. Kate was still finding last year’s baubles in the most unusual places as late as this March.

  She shuffled into the kitchen to find Matt sitting at the table, leafing through her drawings. Her portfolio lay open, the contents spread out across the table. Matt looked up at her and grinned sheepishly.

  “Hello, sleeping beauty,” he said. “You look cozy.”

  “What are you doing here?” Kate asked without preamble. She hadn’t had coffee yet and she was hungry.

  “I found another bag of your Christmas decorations in the van,” he said. “Thought I’d drop them round.”

  “Oh,” said Kate. “Thank you.”

  Matt went back to studying Kate’s sketches, resting each one back carefully in its place before picking up another.

  “These are incredible, Kate,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” said Kate.

  “No really,” he said. “You blow my mind.”

  Kate blushed.

  “Well. Thank you,” she said.

  “Oh, by the way,” said Matt without looking up, “Richard called.”

  Kate thought her stomach might drop out through the bottom of her trousers. Her eyes darted to the worktop, where she had left her phone to charge last night. Shit! she thought. But she feigned nonchalance.

  “I told him you were still in bed because you’re a lazy cow,” said Matt.

  “Matt!” Kate rounded on him.

  He threw his hands up in surrender.

  “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” he yelped. “I saw his name flash up on the screen, but I didn’t answer it, I swear to God.”

  Kate snatched up her phone. Five missed calls and eleven messages. Shit! she thought again. I hope he doesn’t think I copped off with Jim last night.

  “Who’s minding the shop?” Kate asked absent-mindedly as she scrolled through Richard’s messages. They began chirpy—borderline cheeky—before descending into nervousness and finally deteriorating into panic and or disgruntlement. She would have to call him.

  “Petula and Carla,” said Matt. “I brought gifts,” he said, and held up a brown paper bag with grease patches over it.

  Kate instantly forgot about Richard’s neuroses.

  “Please tell me that’s a loaded bacon doorstop slathered with butter and ketchup!”

  Matt grinned up at her.

  “It most certainly is!” he said. “It’s a bit cold, you might want to—”

  But Kate had already plucked the bag from his grip and was gratefully stuffing the contents into her face.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said with her mouth full.

  “I brought one for Mac too,” he said. “He had his while it was hot.”

  Matt stood, crossed the kitchen, and pointed to a tall cardboard takeaway cup.

  “And this,” he said.

  “Tell me,” said Kate, ripping off a crust with her teeth.

  “Large mocha,” he said. “Triple shot with gingerbread syrup.”

  Kate moaned with delight.

  “God, I love you,” she blurted through a mouthful of bacon and bread.

  She flustered. The words had just popped right out of her! Way to go, Turner! she shouted internally. Geez, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one day!

  Would he know that she meant it? Would he think she was joking? Bloody hell, she hoped he’d think she was joking!

  The bacon sandwich stuck in her throat. Keep it together! she thought. Act casual! She swallowed hard, then coughed as the sandwich went down her suddenly dry throat.

  “In a cupboard love sort of way, obviously,” she added quickly.

  “Yeah, I know,” said Matt. “I used to have a cat like you; only wanted me for food.”

  Matt seemed unmoved by her outburst; she dearly hoped this meant she was in the clear.

  “When did you have a cat?” asked Kate, glad of the distraction.

  “When you were off globe-trotting,” he replied wryly.

  “What happened to it?” asked Kate.

  “Maria took it when we divorced,” said Matt.

  Kate stopped chewing.

  “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

  Kate’s armpits were prickling with sweat. She didn’t know how to behave. Her heart raced. Externally she chewed her food and continued to chat casually with Matt, while internally she tried to hammer nails back into the box of feelings that had just exploded all over her kitchen.

  “It’s all right,” said Matt. “It was a long time ago.”

  This was the first time Matt had even mentioned his marriage to her. This is good, thought Kate. Move the focus totally away from me telling Matt that I love him.

&nb
sp; “Do you ever hear from her?” Kate asked.

  “No,” said Matt. “We were entirely and completely incompatible. Once the divorce settlement was finalized there was really no need for our paths to ever cross again.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Kate again, for want of something better to say. I think I’ve gotten away with it, she thought. She felt like a Scooby-Doo villain without the meddling kids.

  “Don’t be,” he said. “It was an impulse thing. A reflex reaction. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “I don’t know,” said Kate. “I’ve never paid too much attention to what they say.”

  Matt smiled.

  “No,” he said. “You haven’t, have you?”

  “Do you think you’d ever get married again?” asked Kate. Oh God! she thought. Stupid stupid woman, why would you ask that?

  “I wouldn’t rule it out,” said Matt. “For the right woman. What about you?”

  “I wouldn’t rule it out either,” said Kate. “But I’m not going to bet all my chips on it!”

  Matt picked up the takeaway cup.

  “Shall I stick this in the microwave, then?” he asked.

  “Mmm, yes please,” said Kate.

  Kate excused herself and took her freshly microwaved mocha up to her bedroom, where she internally punched herself repeatedly in the face. Her phone blipped. Another message from Richard. She would have to call him and explain why she’d been offline for so long.

  She concentrated on slowing her breathing down and pushed Richard and his handsome face and sexy aroma to the front of her mind and banished Matt to a far corner, with spiders and skeletons of old boyfriends.

  Kate scrolled down to Richard’s number and pressed dial. It rang almost to voice mail before he picked up; Playing it cool, thought Kate.

  “Hello,” said Richard.

  There was a formality to his voice that Kate hadn’t heard before. So, this is what a Richard-perturbed sounds like. His tone made her feel nervous and instead of explaining herself succinctly, she instantly began to babble.

  “Hi!” she said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up your messages; I had my phone on silent and it was such a long night, and partial disaster—although it turned out all right in the end, and I didn’t get in until well after five a.m. and then I was just knackered and I went straight to bed.”

  There was silence on the line for a few moments.

  “Sounds like you had a busy night,” said Richard tersely.

  Kate didn’t like the vibes she was getting through the ether.

  “Well, yes I did, actually,” said Kate. “But the date itself was a total nightmare.”

  Richard instantly brightened.

  “Really?” he asked. “How so?”

  Kate explained.

  “What an arsehole!” said Richard.

  “Indeed,” said Kate.

  “Would you like me to have him tracked down and pulled naked through the streets of London by a donkey?” Richard asked.

  “If it wouldn’t be too much bother,” said Kate.

  “None at all,” said Richard. “I’ll get someone on it right away.”

  “Much obliged,” said Kate. “So how was your Bond night?” she asked.

  “Oh, you know,” said Richard, suddenly vague. “It was one of those awkward, nothing-to-talk-about dates. She looked the part, but there was nothing going on behind the eyes, if you know what I mean.”

  Richard had also signed up for the escape room date, but they had already been paired with different people so Richard suggested they meet for a drink first.

  By the time the call ended, Richard was back to his usual charming self. Kate flopped back onto her bed. That was one drama averted. Now she had to work out how to be casual around Matt without making a complete twit of herself.

  She lay there for a while looking at the ceiling. The sound of her dad snoring in the sitting room below rumbled through the house. She would throw herself into this whatever it was with Richard. She liked Richard, she really did. She certainly lusted after him. There were worse positions from which to start a relationship. It definitely had the potential to become something if she just gave it a chance. She refused to be one of those drippy heartsick women with hundreds of cats; she would hurl herself into the path of true love so that it couldn’t possibly not hit her!

  Kate dragged the rest of her Christmas decorations down from the attic. There were a lot. She couldn’t seem to pass a Christmas display without making a purchase, and after a decade of such behavior, her Christmas collection was becoming obscene. When she added the musty boxes and bags to her haul from the market, it almost filled the kitchen.

  At three o’clock Laura and the kids came round to help decorate the house. Her dad, refreshed after his nap, took charge of entertaining Charley, while Mina—dressed in a Rudolph onesie—raided the boxes and ran about the house hanging baubles on door and drawer handles and anything else she could reach.

  Kate and Laura were bejeweling a garland draped over the fireplace in the sitting room. The one resting on the mantelpiece over the wood burner in the kitchen had all manner of sparkly Christmas ornaments thrown at it: teal reindeer, glittered doves, purple Christmas trees, candy canes, and baubles covered in multicolored shiny buttons. But for the sitting room, Kate kept it classic: reds, golds, and greens. Matt was delivering all the Christmas trees later for Evelyn, and the tree would go in here too, in the bay window.

  It would feel strange not having Christmas dinner here, Kate thought. But she was happy that her dad had found someone to care for, and she was even happier that it was Evelyn.

  “So, tomorrow is?” Laura asked, attaching a porcelain kitten in a red-and-white-striped stocking to a piece of spruce.

  “The escape room,” said Kate.

  “Cripes!” said Laura. “Who’s your date?”

  “Edward. An IT guy from Ipswich; he’s forty, never married, no kids, traveled the world, and writes graphic novels in his spare time.”

  Kate was struggling to unravel a string of lights for the garland.

  “Handy in a PC crisis and creative!” said Laura. “And he’s well-traveled. At least you won’t be stuck for conversation. You can swap diarrhea disaster stories about India!”

  “You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t tell you everything,” said Kate.

  “Sorry. But he sounds good anyway. Just who you want with you in an escape room.”

  “Yeah well, I’m meeting Richard before we go in and probably afterward too,” said Kate.

  “Sounds to me like you’ve already written Edward off,” said Laura.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kate replied. “I really like Richard. And I don’t want to be closed off to other possibilities. It’s just that . . .”

  She stopped, wondering how much to divulge to her best friend. She was scared that if she said the words out loud, then they would become real. They would be out there, out in the world, and she could never lock them back in again. Equally, she would need Laura’s counsel if she was going to get over Matt and forge ahead with Richard.

  “Yes?” Laura said.

  “The thing is,” said Kate hesitantly. “The thing is, I’m fairly sure I’m in love with someone else.”

  “Someone else?” said Laura. “Who?”

  Kate took a deep breath. “Matt.”

  “Matt who?” Laura asked.

  “Matt Wells!” said Kate.

  “Our Matt!” spluttered Laura, dropping the gold bell she’d been twiddling. Kate made movements with her arms to indicate to Laura to keep her voice down.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “Our Matt.”

  Laura opened and closed her mouth like a hooked fish.

  “For how long?” she asked.

  “I don’t know exactly,” said Kate. “A while,
I think. Maybe always? Or maybe not. I don’t really know. It’s been coming on slowly for a long time.”

  “Like black ceiling mold,” said Laura.

  Kate nodded. “And equally hard to get rid of,” she said.

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Laura was affronted.

  “There was nothing to tell!” said Kate. “I didn’t truly know myself until last night, and then this morning he brought me a gingerbread mocha . . .”

  “Wow,” said Laura. “You really are easy, aren’t you. Ever thought about holding out for something a bit more substantial, diamonds maybe?”

  “Obviously it wasn’t only the mocha,” said Kate.

  “Glad to hear it,” said Laura.

  “There was a bacon sandwich too,” said Kate.

  “Slapper,” said Laura.

  Kate laughed and then covered her face with her hands.

  “Oh God!” she moaned. “Why him?”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Laura asked.

  “Nothing,” said Kate. “What can I do? He’s with Sarah and I wouldn’t want to ruin that and I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship either.”

  Laura looked hard at her friend.

  “Are you sure,” said Laura, “that this isn’t you self-sabotaging again? You know what you’re like. A good thing comes along and you pick holes in it until it falls apart. You’re on the cusp of something potentially serious with Richard and suddenly you’re in love with Matt.”

  “Not suddenly,” said Kate. “It doesn’t feel sudden. I mean, it hit me suddenly, but then when I thought about it, it’s like it’s always been there, only I couldn’t see it, like I’ve been wearing blinders and now I’ve taken them off and I can see that I do actually and truly love him.”

  “Bloody hell,” said Laura. “You mean it, don’t you? You really are in love with Matt.”

  Laura stumbled back into an armchair.

  “Bloody hell,” she said again.

  “Yeah,” said Kate.

  “Matt?” said Laura. “Are you sure? I’ve got to be honest, this is grossing me out a bit.”

  “Oh,” said Kate. “My apologies. I’m sorry my heartfelt confession has turned your stomach.”