One Day in December: The Christmas read you won't want to put down

by Shari Low

  But oh, how she paid for that moment.

  Kenneth was seething, absolutely raging. The worst ever. When they got home, he waited for her mother to leave in a taxi, then he ranted and raged, he called her every name under the sun and a few more. Even Stuart waking for a feed didn’t stop the torrent of abuse. She was worthless. Pathetic. A piece of crap that only had a place in this world because of him. Rant after rant, he delivered one cruel, snide comment after another. That was a turning point. The end of them. That night, something inside her broke. Never again had anyone stuck up to his insidious ways. Until now.

  That thought made her realise that she was wasting time here. Why was she still waiting around, picking up things that were easily replaceable, when she could just go, drop everything off and be done with dragging out this stress?

  She had to come back and tell him, that went without saying. Sure, she could leave a note, or phone him, or send him a bloody email, but that would only be delaying the inevitable and she would live in a perpetual state of anxiety waiting for it to happen.

  No, she was going to do this and she was going to do it right.

  She was going to face him, to look him in the eye, and she was going to stand up to him.

  It was the only way she’d be able to sleep at night.

  ‘You still on the phone?’ Sarah’s voice behind her.

  Bernadette turned around and shook her head. ‘No, it was just the kids, checking in. Stuart is deeply disappointed that we’re not having an illicit affair.’

  ‘We can if you want…’ Sarah joked. ‘I mean, I’ve never tried it, but at my age I’ll try anything. I ate quinoa last week.’

  Bernadette hooted with laughter. ‘I don’t necessarily think you can compare the two. Okay, that’s it. Let’s just get this lot into the van. There’s honestly nothing else I care about enough to warrant the heart attack I’m about to have at the thought of him walking in that door. I’ve got enough clothes to keep me going, I’ve got all the kids’ photos, I’ve got the jewellery my mum left me – nothing else matters.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘You’re right. Let’s fill her up.’

  Downstairs, Bernadette opened the door cagily, checked there was no sign of him. Nope, nothing. The wall clock in the hall said 7 p.m. If the surgery finished on time, he’d be back within the next twenty minutes or so. The anxiety came flooding back. Bravery had its limits and it would appear it was intermittent. A tightness pulled her chest muscles together and she had to steady herself with an internal dialogue. Come on. You’ve got this. Keep going. Just keep on moving.

  ‘Coast clear,’ she announced, heading out of the door with two huge black bags, Sarah right behind her. They opened the back doors of the van and deposited their loot, then shuttled back and forwards until the last bag was pushed into the packed space. It took all the weight of both of them to squeeze the doors shut, an exertion that had tears streaming down Bernadette’s face – she wasn’t sure if they were of happiness, sadness, stress or relief. Sarah spotted it and held out her hand. Bernadette took it gratefully.

  ‘You’ve got this, lovely,’ she said.

  Bernadette nodded. ‘I’ve been telling myself that all day.’

  ‘So what next?’

  ‘We take all this stuff to your house and unpack it.’

  Bernadette locked up, and they both jumped into the van, indicating left as they came out of the driveway.

  As they passed a Range Rover Evoque on the other side of the road, it was Sarah who noticed the blonde behind the wheel.

  ‘Wow. There’s something you don’t often see in December.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘In that car. The Evoque thingy. There’s a blonde woman in the driver’s seat wearing huge sunglasses. Think we should tell her there’ll be no sun until next June?’

  ‘Maybe she’s some kind of private investigator on a stakeout, Miss Marple,’ Bernadette teased, glad of the momentary break from the nervous dread.

  ‘If she’s there when we get back, I’m going to investigate,’ Sarah announced. ‘Just in case she’s staking out the joint for a burglary crew to come in and ransack the street.’

  ‘Good idea. You’ll get a special commendation from neighbourhood watch.’

  As they waited at the traffic lights at the end of the street, Sarah exhaled.

  ‘Okay, Bernie, here goes. Final stage in Operation Freedom.’

  ‘I wish it was,’ Bernadette sighed, that choking anxiety right back and shooting to unsurpassed levels. ‘But I still have to come back and tell him.’

  Chapter 24

  Lila

  Lila had left Pluckers, jumped back in the car, and retraced her earlier journey, so that less than twenty minutes later she was sitting back outside Ken’s house. The Fiat was still in the driveway, and there was a white van there now too with a huge cupcake on the side. Probably the wife’s weekly delivery of stodge to keep her going while she was gorging herself in front of the TV. If someone else was there, the confrontation would have to wait. She wasn’t going to go charging in to a situation that came with an audience. This was between her and Bernadette. That was it.

  She pulled out her phone and snapped a quick pic, a smiling one this time as opposed to a pout, then uploaded it to her Instagram and Facebook with the hashtags #Fridayfeeling #cantwaitfortheweekend #blessed.

  Although, right now, she didn’t feel very bloody blessed at all. Rod and Kylie had excelled themselves, and for what? Was she in a bar drinking cocktails? Was Ken licking champagne bubbles from every crevice of her body? Oh, that very thought made her shudder. Was she somewhere fabulous that she could show off the results of the last hour?

  Nope. She was sitting in the seat of a car, shades on so no passers-by would realise she was staring at her lover’s house, hoping – for the love of God – that she could get on with speaking to his wife and revealing all.

  Ken wanted this. She knew he did. He just didn’t want to break the news to Bernadette, but once it was done he’d be so grateful. There was no way a man could make love to her the way he did today and not want that every day of his life.

  She turned the temperature down on the dashboard to the point that it was almost uncomfortable, so that her perfect face wouldn’t begin to shine, then she sat back and stared at the doorway. And stared. And stared. The ringing of her phone was almost a welcome distraction. The office again. Jeez, didn’t they know it was a Friday and she was finished for the day? Sighing, she realised now was as good a time as any to answer. It wasn’t like she was doing anything else.

  ‘Lila Anderson,’ she said haughtily.

  ‘Lila, it’s Fred Johnston.’ Her boss. The Director of Sales. In some ways, he reminded her of Ken – strong, direct, a powerful alpha male who exuded the kind of presence that absolutely appealed to her. She’d flirted with him on every occasion, but, unfortunately, like Ken, he had a wife – in his case, the very efficient, decidedly frosty head of HR. Lila absolutely couldn’t imagine the two of them having sex. She probably asked him to fill out a form, complete an inventory and sign a disclaimer before she took her knickers off. Why did these men always choose women who were no match for them? Anyway, she’d never acted on any attraction to Fred because he didn’t quite come close to what she already had.

  ‘Fred! So lovely to hear from you,’ she purred. ‘What can I do for you?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘Lila, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day…’

  Damn, so it had been Fred who’d been calling. If she’d known that she’d have answered first time.

  ‘Sorry, Fred, it’s been hectic today. So many meetings. I don’t know how I managed to cram it all in but it’s worth it when I smash those targets every month.’ No harm in reminding him of that not so insignificant fact.

  ‘Erm, yes. Well, the thing is, we’d like you to come down to head office on Monday.’

  Her smile widened. A visit to head office could only mean one thing. Actually two. When they were firing
someone, they always asked them to come down, so they could retrieve the company car, but that wouldn’t be the case here. What she was excited about was the other reason a rep got called to the mothership. Promotion. She was finally getting the step up she’d been lobbying for. Area manager for Scotland, Ireland and the North of England. A twenty-five per cent increase in salary, loads of travel, and an even better company car. This was the closest she’d been to delight since Ken made her come at lunchtime.

  ‘Of course!’ she said, excitement bubbling. ‘What time would you like to see me?’

  She could go down on Sunday, stay the night in a spa hotel, get a few treatments and a good night’s sleep so she looked her best. This was it for her. New job. New man. New life. After years of waiting, it was all about to happen.

  ‘Eleven o’clock. You’ll be meeting myself, the head of finance and there will be a representative from HR.’

  Of course his wife, Lady Frosty Tits would be there – it would be in her remit to action the promotion. And the finance director would be there to talk about her payrise.

  ‘Great!’

  He cleared his throat again. ‘Actually, Lila, just so we’re on the same page, I have to inform you that this is the opening meeting in what may be a disciplinary situation.’

  Not so great. ‘Sorry? I don’t understand.’ A disciplinary? For what? She was their best fucking seller, trouncing every other amateur out there. What could they possibly be disciplining her for?

  ‘There are several issues that we wish to discuss.’

  Lila felt her stomach begin to clench. Several? What the hell…?

  ‘An allegation has been made that there may have been an inappropriate relationship with a client.’ He let that hang there.

  Lila wasn’t one for swearing – so unladylike – but again, fuck.

  Who would report her? ‘From who?’ Too late she realised her first reaction should have been to deny the allegation.

  From his tone, she immediately realised that Fred had picked up on that too.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s confidential, but as you know, it’s in your terms and conditions of employment that there can be no inappropriate relationships that could be a detriment to our business, or could lead to accusations of… let’s just say, we like to know for sure that we get orders based on the quality of our products and services.’

  Oh. For. Fuck’s. Sake. Now, if she was reading between the lines correctly, he was implying that she swapped sex for orders. She pulled her shades off as her head fell forward on to the steering wheel and, for once, she didn’t give a toss that she would have to reapply her foundation.

  He couldn’t do this. This was ridiculous. Besides, if anything she should get a bonus for the affair with Ken because it had brought the company extra bloody sales.

  ‘We’d also like you to bring down a full copy of your schedule for the last three months, together with receipts for all purchases made using the company credit card.’

  Her fury and disbelief were now, slowly but surely, being frozen out by a deep chill that was working its way up from her feet, consuming everything in its path. ‘Why?’

  ‘Again, we have reason to believe there may have been some impropriety in your use of the card.’

  No, no, no. This wasn’t how it worked. She smashed targets, the company left her to her own devices. That was the way it had always been. Sure, she knew about the rules, but over the years, she’d taken a few chances, nothing had ever been questioned, and yes, she’d probably got a bit cavalier, but she hadn’t taken anything she didn’t deserve.

  ‘I can assure you my card has only been used for legitimate company expenses,’ she replied, going on the offensive. No way was she taking this crap from him.

  ‘Indeed. So we would very much like to understand the breakdown of the payment to the…’ There was a rustling of papers. ‘Dorchester Hotel, two months ago. And perhaps also the Glasgow River Hotel, today at lunchtime.’

  Holy shit, how did they know about that already? They must have full visibility of every transaction. Her mind flew back through everything she’d used the card for in recent times. Flowers for Mum. The new suit she bought for the sales conference. That red dress for the evening reception. Every hotel bill. Why were they questioning it now? Why?

  There were thousands of employees in the company so there was very little micro-management, especially when it came to reps who worked their own territory. As long as they were performing well, they didn’t attract any negative attention. However, someone had made an official complaint against her, and that had been enough for the bean counters to probe deeper into her actions.

  Who? Who the fuck…? She racked her brain. There was no one. She’d always made a point of being sweet to everyone that mattered so that she’d get more business. Another thought. Ken’s wife? Had she found out and reported her? No way. Ken would have known about that and stopped it.

  Sweet to everyone that mattered. The phrase repeated in her mind. Everyone that mattered. Suddenly, another image, Madge’s disapproving but smug face this morning when Lila had left Ken’s office. Madge knew. Of course she did. She’d known since right at the start, and there had never been a shred of love lost between the two women. Had she been the one who’d reported her? How dare she? Rage was now heating up the chill factor. That fat, evil bitch. She was so jealous, she couldn’t stand it. Had probably been in love with Ken all along and now she’d decided to interfere and try to destroy their relationship. Well, the cow wouldn’t win. No way. She might cost her this job, but there was absolutely no chance that she would wreck Lila and Ken’s future. That was theirs and it was going to happen. But in the meantime…

  ‘I can assure you that I have a perfectly good reason and solid evidence to support every expenditure,’ Lila declared forcefully. She didn’t, but now wasn’t the time to cave. Her mum’s motto. Hair done, lipstick on, face the world. She already had the first two covered, thanks to Rod and Kylie, so now it was up to her. She would buy time to come up with something, and if she didn’t, well it wouldn’t matter. This was the weekend that she was going to make the breakthrough with Ken, so she could go down there on Monday and tell them that, as the future Mrs Lila Manson, wife of cardiac surgeon Ken Manson, they could stuff their job.

  ‘I do hope so, Lila. You’ve been one of our best performing account managers for many years. I really hope this can all be explained and we can go on to develop your career with the company. I look forward to hearing what you have to say on Monday.’

  He rang off and Lila stared straight ahead, unable to move. By the very implication in his last words, if she couldn’t explain everything, there wasn’t going to be a future with the company for her. Argh! The truth was, she realised in hindsight, that she’d crossed a line that she wouldn’t be able to justify. So her job was gone. She was about to be out of work. And while the prospect of that terrified her, it made one thing clearer than ever: the stakes had just got higher. There was now absolutely no room for hesitation with Ken, because she was not going to be the woman with no job, no husband, no chance of gainful employment, because she’d just been fired for misconduct. She could lose everything here. Everything.

  She blinked back the tears, determined not to spoil her lashes. Don’t cry. It’s all going to be fine. This was a blip in the road, but she hadn’t crashed and burned yet. Although, petrol bombing that old witch Madge now seemed like a perfectly reasonable proposition.

  Across the street, she saw the front door opening. Yes! The cake delivery person must be leaving. This was going to be her chance. A woman stepped out of the doorway carrying bin bags. That was odd, but what did it matter as long as she was going to piss off and let Lila make her move.

  Another woman appeared behind her, also carrying black plastic bags. She gasped as she realised it was Bernadette. Okay, still strange, but at least things were moving. Both women then went back inside, only to reappear carrying more bulging black sacks. What the hell was going on?r />
  For fifteen minutes, they carried out bag after bag, then came clothes on hangers, all of it shoved into the back of the van. Lila had a moment of clarity – they were packing for a car boot sale. That was it. Bernadette absolutely struck her as the kind of woman who went to those things, flogging worn jackets and cheap tat ornaments for a few pounds to put petrol in that bloody Fiat. The woman had not an ounce of class.

  Still, she waited. The two women were leaning on the side of the van now, deep in conversation and… Oh for God’s sake, they were holding hands. Were they related? Or was this some kind of secret affair? Wouldn’t that be ironic – if Ken and Lila had been meeting in secret for the last seven years, while Bernadette was also sneaking around with an illicit lover. They looked like they could be a couple. Both the same age. Both the same shape. Both in unappealing, decidedly unflattering outfits. Yep, they could easily be a couple. That would be brilliant – a free pass for Ken. Before she even thought through what she was doing, she lifted her phone and shot a couple of pics of the two women embracing. Got you.

  Okay, now get in the van and leave, lady. Go on. Clear off.

  Lila actually thought the subliminal commands were working when the visitor jumped in the driver’s seat, but her hopes were dashed a few moments later when Bernadette locked the front door and climbed into the van too. Argh! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where was she going? When would she be back? And why was she completely wrecking Lila’s plans?

  Slipping the shades back on, Lila watched, fuming, as they drove past her, the driver staring intently at her. They stopped at the traffic lights behind her, then turned the corner, taking away her opportunity for confrontation with them.

  Damn it. What to do? She could wait here for them to come back, but who knew when that would be? She could wait for Ken to get home, but again, that could be any time. His surgery could run hours late.

  As if answering her dilemma, the phone rang again. Cammy. Much as the last thing she wanted to do was answer it, she did it anyway.