by Lacey London
Lianna tears herself away from the crowd and runs into my arms, her face alight with happiness. ‘I can’t believe this! Thank you so much!’
‘Don’t thank me. This was all Marc’s idea.’ I admit, removing a clump of Lianna’s hair from my lip gloss. ‘He planned it, he paid for it and he even chose the decorations all by himself.’
‘Really?’ Her eyes widen in shock as she processes what I have just said.
I have to admit it, I am shocked too. Although Marc is our boss and our closest male friend, it is rather out of character for him to put so much effort into something like this. Marc’s usual acts of kindness don’t extend further than a bottle of Rioja and a Meat Feast pizza, so it’s understandable that we would find this a little weird. To be honest, with everything else that has been going on lately I haven’t really put much thought into it, but now that I have said it out loud it is pretty strange.
‘Marc!’ Li yells above the music, trying to get his attention.
I stand back and watch as Marc and Gina try to squeeze their way through the sea of buzzing people who are chattering loudly. I have to hand it to him, he really has managed to pull this off spectacularly well.
‘Happy Birthday!’ Gina squeals, throwing her arms in the air and twerking like a deranged monkey. ‘Did we surprise you?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Li exclaims. ‘I’ve never been more surprised in my entire life!’
Laughing as Gina fills Lianna in on just how difficult it was to keep this a secret, I can’t help but notice Marc twitching uncomfortably in the background.
‘Everything OK?’ I ask, sidling up beside him.
‘Yeah...’ He mumbles, not looking me in the eye.
Not believing him, I weigh up my old friend carefully. His longer than usual locks have started to curl at the ends and his iconic thick rimmed glasses are sliding down his sweaty nose. He looks far from OK.
‘What is it?’ I press, pulling him around a corner where I can hear him better. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ He attempts a little laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
‘Come on, Marc! I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying. Spit it out.’
‘Honestly, Clara. Everything’s fine.’
Squinting my eyes at him suspiciously, I turn around at the sound of my name.
‘Clara!’ Oliver pops his head into our conversation and holds out his hand. ‘Drink?’
Nodding in response, I take his hand and let him lead me across the dance floor. We have only been in here for half an hour and already the music is pumping and the dance floor is alive with gyrating people. I spot Lianna and Gina posing for selfies in front of the Christmas tree and let out a little giggle. I knew that she would love this. Raising my hand in acknowledgement, I run over to photobomb their picture. I stick my tongue out and wait for the flash before bursting into a fit of laughter.
‘Awwh!’ Gina sighs, looking at the photo on her phone. ‘I’m going to miss you guys so much.’
‘Oh, behave. You’re only going for two weeks!’ Li snatches the phone out of her hand to take a look at the photo.
‘Marc hasn’t told you?’ Gina’s brow creases into a frown as her eyes widen. ‘He hasn’t told you, has he?’
‘Told us what?’ Lianna demands, folding her arms.
‘We’re going to Australia.’ Gina exhales loudly and bites her lip.
‘Yeah...’ I mumble, trying to work out what has gotten into her.
‘No, you don’t understand.’ Lowering her voice to little more than a whisper, she pulls us in close. ‘We’re... we’re thinking of emigrating.’
‘What?’ Li and I shout in unison.
Feeling totally flummoxed, I lock eyes with Lianna and try to gather my thoughts. ‘Gina?’
‘We’re emigrating.’ She repeats, biting her lip. ‘Well, at least we are seriously thinking about emigrating. I’m sorry. I thought that Marc had told you.’
My heart beats hard in my chest as I try to digest what she has just said. I suddenly feel rather sick. They can’t move to Australia! It’s the other side of the world for crying out loud. Feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes, I scan the room for Oliver and catch Marc walking towards us.
‘Marc! What the hell is going on?’ My voice is hoarse as I try not to show how upset I am. Gina just told us that you are... emigrating.’ A lump forms in my throat as he takes off his glasses and runs a hand through his hair.
‘I was going to tell you both tomorrow.’ Putting an arm around Lianna’s shoulders, he pulls her over. ‘I didn’t want to ruin your party.’
‘But... but... I don’t care about the party.’ Lianna wails. ‘You can’t leave! I won’t let you.’
Marc lets out a laugh and shakes his head. ‘Nothing is set in stone, but it is something that we are looking into. We’re going to take this next couple of weeks to check out some properties, take a look at the local schools and get a general feel for the place. Don’t worry. If we do decide to go, you girls will be the first to know.’
Not feeling any more reassured by his efforts, I look up at him mournfully and offer him a small smile. Talk about a turn around. Five minutes ago I was happy as can be and now I feel like I have taken a blow to the stomach. Marc has been such a big part of my life for so long, I can’t imagine him being on the other side of the world.
‘Just think of the free holidays, barbecues on the beach and hot surfer guys. Trust me, if we do decide to go, this could be amazing for all of us.’
I notice Lianna’s frown ease a little at the mention of surfers and try not to laugh. I guess he is right. Leaving the buzz of the busy city behind for the beach bum lifestyle of down under does sound pretty amazing, even if it pains me to say so.
‘Now can we forget about this for tonight please? In case you have forgotten, today isn’t about me, it’s about a certain amazing girl who is thirty and fabulous.’ Flashing Li a wink, he motions to the bar as the music turns up a notch. ‘Come on, let’s get a drink.’
Stretching my face into a smile, I rub Lianna’s arm encouragingly and follow Marc and Gina to the bar. I can’t let them see how gutted I really am, it wouldn’t be fair to make this all about me and my own selfish feelings. As Marc said, tonight is about Lianna and I’m going to make sure she has a great birthday if it kills me.
Dear Santa,
Before I try to explain... just how much do you already know?
December 16th
Stretching out my legs on the soft sheets, the first thing that hits me is how bloody cold it is. The second thing that hits me is that I feel like I have been run over. It takes me a moment to realise that the reason that I feel so dreadful is that last night was Lianna’s surprise birthday party. Burying my head into my pillow, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and desperately try to get back to sleep. A wave of nausea washes over me and I am suddenly wide awake. After Marc’s revelation I only had a couple of drinks last night. News of your best friend leaving the country is kind of a mood killer.
Kicking off the covers onto a snoring Oliver, I clasp my hand to my mouth and make a run for the bathroom. The ice cold tiles beneath my bare feet do little in making me feel better. With my head down the toilet and my arms wrapped around the basin, it is safe to say that I am feeling rather sorry for myself. Once I am confident that my stomach is finally empty, I strip myself of my pyjamas and dive into the shower.
Enjoying the hot water pummelling into my back, I swear to myself that I will not be drinking alcohol ever again. Sometimes I forget that I am a married woman now. Vomiting into the toilet like an eighteen year old girl who has drank one too many alcopops is not how I pictured myself as a wife. Before I met Oliver, I had cooked up images of a cookie baking, twin set wearing Clara with a Waitrose loyalty card. Hilarious, I know.
Grabbing a towel and turning off the shower, I wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror and stare at my reflection. The remnants of last night’s mascara have taken up
residency below my eyes and my skin looks positively green. Deciding that from this moment on I will be a changed woman, I shove a toothbrush into my mouth and wander over to the window. Snowflakes fall from the grey sky and dissolve into slush as they hit the concrete below. I’ve never known a December to have so much snow before. I remember being a child going to bed praying for snow on Christmas Eve and still waking up to the same old clouds and rain.
Placing my toothbrush back into its holder, I pad back into the bedroom and place my ear against the door. No sounds of movement coming from the living room which can only mean that the others are still asleep. My eyes land on the calendar at my bedside and I feel a rush of anxiety run through my body. Only nine days to go until Christmas Day. Nine days to pull off the perfect Christmas for our families. At least Lianna is finally sorted. Now that I don’t need to worry about her I can fully concentrate on the task in hand. Facing up to what I have to do makes me more than a little concerned that I am going to royally mess things up.
As I drag on my jeans and a fluffy jumper, my phone vibrates loudly from my bag on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, I squint my eyes to focus on the screen and tap to open the email.
All customers who have pre ordered a turkey from our finest selection will be available to collect their order from stores tomorrow.
Laughing at the absurdity of pre ordering a bird, I shake my head and toss my phone onto the bed. Some people really need to get a life.
‘Ow!’ Oliver grumbles from beneath the covers as the handset lands on his stomach.
‘Sorry!’ Retrieving the phone from the bed, I flop down beside him and bring the email up on the screen. ‘Can you believe this? People actually pre order poultry!’
‘You are kidding?’ Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he pushes his hair out of his eyes. ‘You have ordered us a turkey, right?’
Laughing at his sarcasm, I stretch my arms up above my head and let out a loud yawn. Even though we have been together for so long, I still find it difficult to work out if he is kidding or not.
‘Clara?’ His voice is suddenly more serious.
‘What?’
‘You do remember last year? When all the stores in a fifteen mile radius sold out of turkey?’ Throwing back the covers, he reaches for a pair of jeans. ‘Jesus Christ, Clara.’
Feeling my cheeks turn a violent shade of red, I look down at my feet and curse myself for being so stupid. Of course I was meant to pre order the bloody turkey! Last year we spent no less than five hours running from supermarket to supermarket desperately seeking a bird of some kind. In the end we resorted to a lamb shank and had to make the most of it.
Not daring to look him in the eye, I stand up and grab the car keys.
‘I’ll get my coat.’
I sincerely hope that you like this present more than I did when I received it last year...
December 17th
‘What the hell is this?’ Janie asks, poking her head into the fridge and holding out a bag of chopped kale. ‘If you think I have travelled nine hours to be fed rabbit food for Christmas then you’ve got another thing coming lady!’
Tossing the offending bag back into the fridge, she grabs a bottle of wine and sashays over to the couch where my mother is waiting with an empty glass. Honestly, the two of them are like a pair of teenagers.
‘Don’t worry, Janie. I promise I will serve you up a meal to remember.’ Biting my lip, I silently pray that it isn’t a meal to remember for all the wrong reasons.
After our impromptu trip to the supermarket yesterday, Oliver and I spent the rest of the day watching re-runs of Nigella’s Christmas Kitchen online. Needless to say, we are still none the wiser over what we are going to do. Oliver keeps trying to convince me that we can always order takeout from Saffron and more worryingly, I’m only partly convinced that he is joking. Reminding myself that we are hosting for two hungry men and three difficult to please women, I make a mental note to look into hiring a chef for the day. No matter how hard Oliver tries to talk me round, I’m still having a recurring nightmare of us serving up burnt toast with a side of peanut butter. Telling myself that everything will be OK, I grab a bottle of Evian from the fridge and collapse down next to my mother on the couch.
‘Water?’ She scoffs, waving the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc around wildly. ‘What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?’
‘I’m just still feeling the after effects of Lianna’s birthday.’ Screwing my nose up to emphasise my point, I smile to myself as the memories of Friday night’s antics come flooding back to me.
After Marc and Gina’s Aussie bombshell we all had an amazing night. Especially Li, who spent the majority of the evening on the dance floor with a bottle of Champagne in her hand. That’s right, bottle, not glass. As she continually reminded me throughout the night, she is old enough and ugly enough to make her own decisions.
Now that I have had the time to think about it, I am actually really happy for Marc. He always said that he would love to live in the sun one day and now that he has a little family of his own, I guess the time is right for him to spread his wings and fly. I would just rather he didn’t fly all the way to Australia. With Oliver’s entire family living in Texas, I can completely understand the urge Gina must have to be with her parents. On a few occasions Oliver has raised the subject of us moving to America, but for some reason I have dug my heels in and insisted that we stay in England. Why? I don’t really know. I don’t have any siblings that I am close to and my parents are always jetting off around the world on various different holidays. It’s not like I have a close family unit or anything.
Feeling a lump form in my throat, I glance over to the photo of Marc, Lianna and I on the windowsill. I’ve never realised it before, but I guess that my friends have always been my family. They do say that friends are the family that we choose for ourselves, don’t they? Blinking back the tears, I pull the throw up to my chin and rest my head on my mum’s shoulder. Why am I crying again? I swear this whole Christmas thing is giving me anxiety attacks. I really need to pull myself together.
Pushing myself to my feet, I leave the gruesome twosome in the living room and pad into the kitchen, wincing as the waistband of my jeans digs into my stomach. Talk about piling on the pounds. There’s still over a week to go and already I am turning into a porker. At this rate I might as well don my red onesie and label myself Father Christmas, at least that way I will have an excuse for the pot belly. Suddenly feeling more tired than hungry, I slip into the bedroom and leave the rest of the gang to drink themselves into a happy oblivion. It might only be 8.00pm, but I am absolutely exhausted and knowing that I have a long day at work tomorrow makes it an easy decision for me to swap my tight jeans for one of Oliver’s t-shirts and climb under the covers.
From my hiding place beneath the sheets, I hear Janie crank up the music and let out a small smile. Whilst I’m being a party pooper, it’s good to know that the others are having a good time. My eyelids become extraordinarily heavy as I draw up a mental list of this coming week’s activities. With just over seven days to go, it’s safe to say that the countdown is well and truly on.
My favourite part of the holiday season is blaming my long term weight gain on the holiday season.
December 18th
Pulling my scarf up over my ears to block out Janie’s incessant moaning, I shove my hands into the depths of pockets and carry on trudging through the snow. For the past two hours, Janie, my mother, Lianna and I have been scouring the shops for some last minute stocking fillers - or in Janie’s case actual stockings. So far, it is fair to say that this little trip has been quite the success. When Li and I stepped out of work this evening to be greeted by the terrible twosome, I have to admit that I wasn’t a very happy Clara. For starters, all day I have been dreaming about climbing into my lovely roll top bath with a very large glass of Rioja and a Jo Malone candle. A dream that went straight out of the window at approximately 5.34pm this afternoon.
‘This is
the best store ever! Janie exclaims, clutching a mountain of carrier bags as she pushes her way outside. ‘Ann Summers. We have got to get one of these back home.’
‘You don’t have an Ann Summers?’ My mother’s voice sounds strangely surprised for someone who until last year wore twin sets and pearls.
Not wanting to listen to my mother and mother in law talk about their sex shop escapades, I link my arm through Lianna’s and march ahead.
‘Those two are hysterical!’ Lianna laughs as we weave our way through the manic last minute Christmas shoppers. ‘I wish my mother was like that.’
‘No, you really don’t.’ Lianna’s mother is one of those straight talking business types who are super critical 99.9% of the time, although her heart is in the right place. ‘Your mum might be a lot of things, but embarrassing isn’t one of them.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ She scoffs. ‘Do you not remember last year’s Christmas party?’
‘Oh...’ Having a flashback to twelve months prior, I suddenly remember Li’s mother stripping down to her smalls and giving Chris from the I.T department a lap dance.
‘Maybe you’ve got a point.’ I concede, stifling a giggle.
Don’t get me wrong, Vanessa Edwards is stunningly beautiful with a body that most teenagers would be envious of, but she still gave poor Chris a heart attack and Lianna almost died on the spot.
