Not Another Lonely Christmas

by Ellie R. Hunter

  Wow, the two people we watch on tv most days of the week were looking forward to meeting us, I can’t believe it.

  “I…”

  Before Gabs or I can say a word, some woman wearing a headset rushes in and ushers them out and Damien hands a cup of coffee each. I take mine gratefully while Gabriella narrows her eyes at me, warning me to go easy on the caffeine.

  We were given sixteen minutes in our room with a quick once over with a nice guy from hair and makeup before we’re taken to the studio where we’ll be interviewed.

  Penny and Paul are talking to one camera on the other side of the studio as we’re sat on a sofa and told to keep quiet.

  They finish their run down of what’s to come on the show today and walk over.

  “And now we would like to welcome Remi Humphrey and Gabriella Armitage,” Paul says to one of many cameras.

  I feel a pinch on the side of my thigh and I smile. It was our code before we fell asleep last night. Gabs is to pinch me when I have the duck-out-of-water look on my face. I’ll probably be on telly one time in my life, I don’t want to watch re-runs of me looking gormless.

  “If you haven’t seen or heard, Remi has gone viral searching for romance. She’s here today to tell us all about her quest for love,” Penny speaks next and then they both turn to me.

  I keep the smile in place and try not to freeze up.

  “Remi, it’s great to have you here. Please, tell me what started this journey you’ve found yourself on,” Penny starts.

  I’m too focused on not coming across robotic and keeping my breathing normal, not stuttering and everything else that I barely hear myself telling them about my drunken rant and how I watched myself back the next day when Gabs came around to see what I had done.

  “We’ve watched all your dates so far and we’ve ran polls to see who agrees they are romantic, and many agree with you, that they’re not the result you were hoping for. Whose idea was it to film them and post them on social media?” Paul asks next and I’m thankful this is where Gabriella comes in to answer.

  This is the moment she has been waiting for. The girl should have her own show, I don’t know how she ended up in the hair business, she’s far too comfortable being on camera.

  “I think it’s safe to say, we’ve been winging this since Remi agreed not to delete everything. She’s had so many messages from people offering to romance her, I thought we should record them, so others would know what not to do. The last thing she’d want to do is go on the same version of dates continuously.”

  They all chuckle and I keep smiling. All I can think is, I’m not looking as comfortable here as Gabriella does.

  “And Remi, what would be the ultimate act of romance for you? What are you hoping for?” Penny asks.

  My mouth opens and then closes again. Nothing but a gasp of air leaves me and I frown.

  “I suppose I just want to feel something so fierce there is no room for any other feelings.”

  Shit. That was a stupid answer.

  “Remi has always been a romance addict, she’s seen all the films, read thousands of books…” Gabriella speaks on my behalf until Penny cuts her off.

  “Would you say you’re addicted to love?”

  This is easy to answer.

  “Most definitely. I don’t care what people think of me for chasing romance. For me, it’s something I would love to experience. I’m sure I’m not explaining it right, but it brings me joy and I haven’t even experienced it yet.”

  Penny sits there with a soft smile on her face, but Paul turns darker and asks, “Do you think this stems from your parents?”

  My heart beats so hard it fills my ears and I swallow any smiles, forced or genuine.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Were they very affectionate people?” Penny asks, and I relax.

  For a moment, I thought they were talking about something they couldn’t have ever found out.

  “They were, they were always needing to be close to one another. They both worked from home and my dad always said it was because they couldn’t be away from each other. All the couples I’ve seen over the years, I’ve never seen a connection like theirs.”

  “Your mother died of cancer, didn’t she, when you were ten?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “And two years later, your father committed suicide to be with her. You entered the foster system and you found comfort in movies and books…”

  My top teeth crush against my bottom teeth and the panic starts to rise. How the sweet loving hell do they know this?

  My hand slips off my lap and I slide it into Gabriella’s hand already slid between our thighs, ready to pinch me for not smiling. She squeezes me so hard, I’m grateful for the burst of pain.

  “I…they…”

  “He left you a note, didn’t he? As a child, that must have been the worst time of your life, however, we have it quoted by Emma Banks, that you saw it as a Romeo and Juliet love story.”

  Emma Banks? I haven’t seen her since she was transferred to a home somewhere up north after she got into trouble for the hundredth time. She certainly didn’t know about my parents and I never told her about my father’s letter to me. His suicide note. His goodbye to me.

  “That time in Remi’s life is personal, she has been through enough heartbreak. She’s always had a positive outlook on life and it’s no different now.”

  I need to leave, I can’t be here anymore. I don’t understand how they know this stuff about me.

  After my mum died, I spent days feeling like I was trapped under water. People would talk to me, but I could never hear them clearly speak. It was always mumbled, and it happened again after my father died.

  It’s happening now, and I do nothing but sit on their couch and struggle to hear them talk about me.

  Gabriella’s voice is the one I hear the clearest and I know it’s because I trust her to speak for me.

  I no longer care about this interview or the search for romance. I’m done. As soon as the interview is finished, Gabriella is pulling me up and I let go of her hand and make a run for it.

  The place is a maze, but I find the exit quickly and burst free onto the street.

  I gulp in the fresh air until it doesn’t feel like I’m choking. Away from the cameras and away from prying eyes, the memories of my parents haunt me, and I can’t fight the pain I’ve pushed down for many years.

  My mum dying was the first trauma I suffered in my life and watching her die slowly over the months as she wasted away before our eyes frightened me and then witnessing my dad’s decline was even harder because he was there, but his mind wasn’t. The day she died, his heart and mind went with her. If I were older at the time, I would’ve seen his suicide coming. I would’ve kept a closer eye on him and shouted out for help. I would’ve done my best to keep him alive.

  He would have suffered with his broken heart, but maybe he could have seen my heart was just as broken and we could have healed together. But, it wasn’t to be, and I had to suffer alone and now everyone who watches the show is going to know it too.

  Gabriella spins me around and I’m enclosed in her arms. I feel safe with her and I’m not choking so hard now.

  “Was that true, Remi? They had a lot to say about your parents,” she asks, and I feel bad. I should have told her my history way before today, perhaps if I did, she would have known how to knock their questions back at them.

  “It’s all true and I don’t know how they found out, I’ve never told anyone.”

  “Let’s go to the Dark Swan, we need drinks and plenty of them.”

  The pub is quiet when we walk in and the closer I am to home, the lighter I feel. My place is my sanctuary. I’m no longer drowning like I was at the studio. However, I am in desperate need to drown in red wine.

  We sit at a booth at the back of the pub in the corner, and we’re shielded from whoever comes in.

  Gabriella discards her coat and scarf and sets off to the bar while I se
ttle in and wonder what the hell happened this morning. One minute I’m nervous to be on the tv and then I’m thrown to the wolves. How did that happen? I was blindsided, and they kicked me when I was down.

  Gabriella returns with a bottle of red and two large glasses and I’m already pouring before she sits down. I pour her a glass too and she gulps hers down as fast as I do.

  “What a bloody morning, Rem. I know how you are, but you know you could have told me about your dad.”

  “I don’t think about them, not anymore, not in a very long time.”

  When I was younger, I believed in the romance of their deaths, I used it as a way to cope with them leaving me. Most of the time, I could handle the loneliness, I lucked out and had some amazing social workers. They weren’t all bad and to this day, I sometimes miss them. They were all I had for a long time.

  “All this time and you haven’t said a word.”

  “It wasn’t you, I didn’t speak about them to anyone. I still have his letter, I read it once, not understanding what I was opening and then it’s stayed in my book. There’s no way Emma could’ve known about them.”

  “Who was she?”

  “She was my roommate in one of the homes I was in. We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either. All that time, I didn’t once suspect her of going through my stuff.”

  We had a deal, everyone did, personal belongings were off limits. None of the kids had much but each of us had something and they were precious to us.

  “I tell you one thing, we won’t be watching Hot Today again. They were out of order bringing that shit up, and by the look on your face, it was plain to see you couldn’t talk about it. They kept pushing and pushing, they were relentless.”

  I pour us another glass full of wine and finish the bottle off topping my glass up to the brim.

  It’s already been one of those days and I welcome the hangover I plan on having tomorrow.

  I’m halfway through my second glass when Gabriella’s phone rings and her face drops.

  “I’m on my way,” she says to whoever is on the other end of the phone and hangs up.

  “That was Shelly, I’m needed at the shop. I can already guess you plan on staying here so I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t rush. I’m going to get drunk and go home and probably redecorate my bathroom red when I vomit all this wine back up.”

  I can already feel its effects kicking in.

  “I’ll be back,” she promises and briefly squeezes my hand before rising from her side of the booth. She slips into her coat and wraps her scarf around her neck.

  “Get drunk, stay here, don’t shed a tear over those bastards and I’ll carry you home when you’re ready to leave.”

  I might not shed a tear for Penny and Paul the fucking sharks, but I could shed one for my best friend.

  “Love you, Gabs.”

  She’s the only one there for me, always have been and I trust she always will be.

  “Love you, too, Rem. Always.”

  Hiking her bag up onto her shoulder, her heels click-clack on the old wooden floor and she stops by the bar.

  “She isn’t to leave until I get back and her glass isn’t to empty. They’re your orders, David.”

  “Only because she isn’t a lightweight,” he chuckles, and she leaves.

  I’m grateful for her friendship but right now, as I slip out of the booth and make myself comfortable at the end of the bar, I’m real grateful to be alone.

  It’s been too long since I opened the locked parent compartment in my mind and it’s for a good reason. It’s too fucking hard to lock it back up again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Oh my god.

  Wine is the fucking devil, it treats you nice the night before and then tries to drag you to hell the morning after. My head is splitting open and I can’t even think about trying to open my eyes.

  Thank god Gabs isn’t expecting me in work today, I don’t think I could make it out of bed, let alone into work.

  The veil of red wine lifts slowly and yesterday comes back to me. A tear slips down my cheek and I can’t be sure if it’s down to my life or the hangover.

  I take steady breaths, and lazily open my eyes. Rain splashes against the window and I’m not surprised I wasn’t sober enough to close the curtains when I got home last night.

  A cup clanging on the side jolts me up to sitting and I find Jasper in my tiny, one wall, kitchen area, fiddling around with the coffee machine.

  “Oh, good. You’re awake, I thought you were going to sleep through the day,” Jasper says.

  What the hell happened last night? Gabriella had to leave for something at the shop, and then I moved to the bar and I drank, a lot. And then, shit, I don’t know.

  Pulling the covers away from me, I check I’m not naked and I’m not. I’m still in yesterday’s blouse, but my jeans are missing and I’m wearing one sock, with no idea where the matching pair is.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I kicked him out two or three days ago and haven’t heard a thing, and now, he’s making coffee and in my bedsit.

  I glance at the door and it’s locked and bolted from the inside. He didn’t just let himself in, or did he? Did I leave the doors open last night and he walked straight in off the street?

  “Do you not remember last night?” he asks, pushing the last button on the coffee machine and then it’s humming softly as it grinds the fresh beans.

  “I remember wanting to get as drunk as I possibly could.”

  “You achieved that, by the time I showed up you were wasted. I had to carry you home, and before you thank me, no need, it was a pleasure.”

  He makes me smile and I quickly hide it behind a wince of pain behind my eyes.

  “I wasn’t going to thank you,” I mutter, and he laughs. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Well, I’m hanging around until you do. I stayed up all night to watch over you, I never would have forgiven myself if you had choked on your own vomit.”

  “You did that? For me?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised? I am a nice guy,” he chuckles and walks my coffee over.

  He places it on the bedside table and goes back over to the fridge and grabs me a bottle of water. He throws it on the bed and I gladly unscrew it and sip gingerly as not to upset my stomach further.

  “What got you in such a state to drink in excess?”

  My first reaction is to tell him what happened in the interview, how they brought up my parents and then I forget it. He doesn’t need to know that odd side of my life. Hopefully, he didn’t see the interview.

  He sits himself next to me on the bed and his eyes are so clear today, it must be nice having nothing to worry about.

  “I had a bad day.”

  “I had a bad day yesterday, I didn’t drink myself into oblivion, Rem. You can talk to me,” he urges.

  “I don’t know if you would be intent on staying when you hear what I would have to say.”

  He snorts, and I would dig him in the ribs with my elbow if I weren’t feeling so fragile.

  “Come on, I need to hear this now. What could the impossibly cute and funny Remi Rose Humphrey have done that would send me running?”

  His mockery over something he doesn’t even know he’s mocking makes me want to tell him. To show him I’m not so innocent and that I can cause his mouth to drop in shock.

  I swig my coffee and lean back against the headboard. I definitely needed caffeine before I speak.

  “I’ve got all day, and all night,” he sing-songs and I roll my eyes.

  “Okay,” I say, releasing a long breath. “A few weeks ago, I met this guy and he came back and we, you know, had sex.” It is so weird talking to him about that, and, I feel a little guilty which is ludicrous as we didn’t know each other then.

  “I hope you’ve changed the bedding,” he quips and I’m not sure if he’s joking around or not.

  “Of course, I have, I changed them before he pr
obably made it home. Anyway, he left so fast he forgot his underwear. I got drunk, really drunk and I went live on Flipped. I offered twenty grand to anyone who can sweep me off my feet by Christmas.”

  Silence pings back and forth and I sip my coffee, allowing him time to digest this new information he’s just heard about.

  He stares off at my wall of book pages and I smile as his mouth open and closes numerous times without making a sound. See, he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge me.

  “I should fill in some blanks for you. You know how I collect my favourite romantic pages, well, I’ve always loved the idea of love and being loved. I got so fed up with one-night stands I flipped out.”

  “So, you had a bad date yesterday?” he asks, hesitantly.

  “No, okay, so, I went viral and my inbox is flooded with offers from people wanting to romance me, although I’m pretty sure they want the money more. Anyway, during a date my friend records it and we post it online as a not-to-do-this for others. It started out me wanting to be romanced, then I wanted to curl up and die, and then I carried on with them just to see if romance is still out there somewhere. Yesterday, I was invited onto Hot Today, it’s a morning tv show, and somehow, they found out about some things from my past. It opened a dark place in me and that’s why I got as drunk as I did.”

  Even recounting it briefly stings and he wipes away a tear I didn’t realise fell.

  “What did they find out?” he asks softly.

  “That my mother died and shortly after, my father killed himself because he couldn’t live without her. They made out like I sought out romance because of his actions, he called them Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Journalists are leaches,” he grumbles and sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. “Never trust them, and never believe they’re your friends, they will do anything for a story.”

  His anger subsides, and he leaps off the bed, slowly spinning around searching for something. He finds what he’s looking for and comes back to sit on the bed. He switches the laptop on and looks at me before I can question what his experience is with journalists.

  “Log onto your account and let me see these messages. Romance is out there, and you shall find it, I’ll help you.”