‘I’m sorry—I spoke out of place, it’s really none of my business. Gosh, is that the time? I should get going.’ She reaches for her bag.
‘Oh, please don’t.’ I plead. ‘It’s really nice having someone to talk to, and you’re right. It’s selfish. It’s just that right now I don’t care.’
We’re silent as Amber hesitates, considering whether she is staying or going.
‘Mirelle slept with Shaun.’
My eyes widen. ‘The balding bloke? Mirelle?’
‘Yep. I got home and had to put earplugs in. I couldn’t believe it. He’s such a lovely bloke and she’s going to break his heart. She’d kicked him out by the time I got up. I asked her about him she said if I ever mentioned it again I was toast.’
‘Well, I never.’
‘So I invited him to Christmas dinner with us.’
I chuckle. ‘Oh Amber, you really do have impulse problems.’
‘I do. I just couldn’t resist. It’ll be better entertainment than watching television repeats. What are you doing for Christmas if Adrian doesn’t get back?’
‘I’ll get a microwave dinner or something. I’ve never particularly bothered with Christmas much anyway, so it doesn’t matter.’
‘You must be joking. Christmas is the best day ever. Listen I’ve plenty of food, I went a bit mad and bought enough for about ten people.’
‘You do surprise me.’
‘I know and I need to calm it down because I’ve just got my credit card statement and realised there’s only my income to pay for it now. Anyway, there’s plenty of food, so if you’re alone on Christmas Day you can come around to mine, join the madness.’
‘Oh Amber, thank you, but you barely know me.’
‘Yes, but, I reckon we have a lot in common, like the job and the Steve situation, and I feel you could be a friend. I don’t have many friends.’
‘I don’t have any.’ I sigh.
‘Yeah, you do,’ she nudges me. ‘You’ve got me. Now, will you come over for Christmas dinner rather than be alone?’
I grin. ‘Go on then. If Adrian doesn’t come home for Christmas Day, I’ll drive over to your home for waifs and strays.’
‘Yay.’ She mock claps. ‘I’m secretly hoping your husband’s mother doesn’t get better.’
‘Amber. That’s an awful thing to say, and it’s hardly a secret if you’re telling me.’
‘Oh… yeah.’
We finish our drinks and get up to leave.
‘So, have you got any last minute shopping to do?’ she asks me.
‘No, but I have had an idea,’ I say. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy a wander around the bookshop with me?’
While I was in the house this morning, I looked around at my home and wondered what would make me feel more comfortable about being there. If it came to it, and Adrian and I decided to travel, I needed more than my cosy bed to give me the pull to return home. I had been reminiscing about the bookshelves I used to have and after driving to the Home store nearby, I’d bought three. They are waiting at home, propped against the wall in the spare room, requiring assembly. I’ve never put anything together in my life.
‘So what are we looking for? Anything in particular?’
‘No. I just want a general look and I’ll buy anything that catches my eye. My Christmas present to myself.’
‘Ooh, I can ride off your buzz. Shop-a-hol-ic.’
‘If you’re good I might get you a book, too.’
‘Yippee,’ she says. ‘I’ll get you a basket.’
General fiction.
Biography.
Thriller.
Crime.
Books carefully placed in the basket so not to crease the pristine covers.
Any taken from the shelf and found to have a crease or tear on them are put back.
In the travel section, I gather Top-Ten’s for all the places I want to see.
Amber chooses a Christmas Chick-lit.
I think sod it and put one in the basket for myself. Maybe if I read it, I’ll get myself in a more festive mood. Amber is quite infectious. She’s singing along to the Christmas songs they’re playing in the store. She keeps picking books up, holding them in front of her face and pretending to be the books voice by saying things like, ‘Why not me Karen? Am I not pretty enough?’
After an hour and twenty minutes, I’ve finally done the rounds. We head to the tills where we have to wait in a lengthy queue of Christmas shoppers. I see people joining the queue look in my basket in horror, thinking it’ll take forever. It’s a good job it had wheels though it dragged on the carpet after about an hour.
The cashier rings them up, bags all my purchases and charges me over two hundred pounds. I’ve never treated myself like this and think back to what Adrian said. It’s not mania is it? No, I calm myself. I’m not buying just anything, and I’m aware I’m doing it. I’m actually having fun.
‘Amber?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I need to ask you a favour?’
‘No I’m not paying if you’ve forgotten your credit card.’ She winks.
‘No, it’s not that. Can you help me carry them? I didn’t think of that while we were walking around with the basket on wheels.’
Amber loads the books she’s carried into my car.
‘What’re you going to read first?’
‘That Christmas one, same as the one you got. It’ll be a change.’
‘Oh, I really like that author. She brings a Christmas book out every year. They always leave me with a lovely warm glow.’
‘Are you sure you haven’t just had too much coffee?’
‘Ha ha. Well, thank you anyway. I really enjoyed today.’
‘Yes, me too. Thanks for helping me carry the books, or I’d have had to make another trip.’
‘Yeah well, good luck with assembling the bookshelves.’
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about those.’
‘You’ve nothing else to do, so it’ll keep you busy until Christmas.’ Amber starts hopping around to keep warm.
‘Well, if I don’t see you, have a lovely Christmas, and please think about ringing Steve.’
‘I will. I mean it, though. Don’t sit there alone at Christmas if Adrian isn’t back.’
‘I won’t.’
‘And if you ever fancy meeting up for a coffee again, give me a ring, okay?’
‘I will, thanks, Amber.’
‘Well, see ya.’
‘Hey, can I give you a lift anywhere?’
‘No, I’m fine thanks. Going to have a mooch around the Christmas fair before I go home.’
She wanders off. I put the lid down on the boot and get in my car. Then I drive to my local supermarket and buy myself a Christmas jumper. Mine has a kitten wearing a Santa hat. I buy a packet of mini mince pies and when I get back home, I settle down on the sofa with my new book. My new purchases are placed neatly on the coffee table where I keep peeking at them. I resolve to make a start on the bookshelves tomorrow and do it myself, even if they end up resembling the Leaning Tower of Pisa from the front of my Top Ten Italy book.
Chapter 26
Amber
I arrive at work early, trying not to let the smile creep over my face. Satisfied with the bit of shopping I managed yesterday, I retrieve the items out of my bag and place them around the office.
Andi walks in. ‘Oh, erm, is that a new Christmassy thing? Bit different?’
‘Yes. It’s the new craze, so I joined in. I can’t see these being classed under the fire hazard policy, can you?’
‘Not unless you try to smoke them,’ laughs Andi, in a particularly good mood.
‘Do you need me for something?’
‘Yes. I wanted to let you know that we’re getting around to completing the new structure. The financial side of things is looking a lot better now we’ve streamlined and I’ve been spending time looking at the infrastructure.’
I’ve zoned out. I want to get my decorations out before Mirelle arrives.
‘Okay.’
‘I’ve been looking at your role and we’re in a position to make the post permanent, Amber. If you’re interested?’
I stop and face her. Stability, my new buzzword. ‘Yes, I’d be very interested.’
‘Well, it has to be advertised and you must apply like anyone else. I will, however, make it an internal vacancy, with a short closing date, so hopefully that will help.’
‘Thank you so much, Andi. That’s really helpful. It would be nice to have a permanent job in the New Year.’
‘Yes, well, I heard on the grapevine about your marriage. I was sorry to hear about it, Amber. It must be very difficult, especially at this time of year.’
‘Thanks. Well, New Year… new start.’
She nods her head. ‘Right, well I better get back to it. Statistics never end!’
‘Thanks again.’
‘Merry Christmas, Amber.’
Decorations placed, I sit at my desk with the smile back on my face. That would be great. A permanent job. A steady monthly income. Knowing I can pay my bills. I still need to consider my drunken outburst, and if I want to keep the house or let Will have it. I need to spend some time working out my own finances. Gosh, I’m growing up.
Then Mirelle walks in.
She looks around the office, decorated with tiny Trolls.
‘Oh get stuffed,’ she says and throws her bag down.
I laugh and laugh. ‘But I thought you liked Trolls?’
Maybe not fully grown up just yet.
Mirelle types quickly, as if she is a very hard worker, which she can be. However, it has never happened immediately upon walking into the office and certainly not on Christmas Eve. Usually, we eat chocolates and share Christmas plans.
‘You can’t avoid the subject forever, you know.’
‘Can’t hear you.’ Tap, Tap, Tap.
I walk around and pull her headphones out of her ears. Then I put them in my top drawer, the lockable one. Click.
‘Spill.’
Mirelle sighs. ‘It’s degrading. First, I fall in love with that middle-aged thing,’ she wafts her hands toward the door, ‘and now I’ve slept with a Troll. A small, balding, little man who, for some reason, chooses not to treat me like the higher ranking league tabler I am, but gives me constant grief about my princessy ways and makes me,’ she whispers, ‘beg for it.’
‘So why, oh Premier League, are you putting up with it?’
‘Because,’ she sighs, ‘he’s not small everywhere.’
I’m not sure I want this impression of Shaun in my mind. In fact, it’s being lasered across my vision, inflicting pain. ‘So, you’re bonking him cos he’s got a big one?’
‘I went to his house from yours. Stayed there all day and came from there this morning. Tried to demand drinks, food, breakfast in bed.’ She rubs her temple. ‘He made me get up and make drinks—and I made them. It’s obvious I’m having a breakdown, Amber. You need to help me.’
‘Erm, is it possible that you might actually like Shaun?’
‘Amber… I even like these little Trolls. What’s happening to me?’
‘I have a confession to make,’ I say, ‘about Christmas dinner.’
‘He told me you’d invited him. Erm about that…’
I realise what’s coming before she says it. ‘Okay, I’m getting the picture. You’re going to spend Christmas in bed, aren’t you?’
‘We might make it round for lunch...?’
‘No it’s fine, you two stay on your own. You’ll put me off my dinner.’ I picture all the food I’ve bought; it fills the fridge and the freezer. I could have settled for a microwave meal for one after all.
‘Thanks, Amber.’
‘No problem. Not only the turkey getting stuffed this Christmas then?’
She looks at me, disgusted, and then falls about laughing. ‘Nope. Anyway, where are all the chocolates? You’re slacking.’
‘Yes, well, you go get the coffee on, cos if you can make a drink for Shaun, you can make one for your bestie. After which I need to fill you in on the last couple of days, cos you’re not the only one with a story to tell.’
I fill Amber in on the Steve/Adrian situation and tell her about Karen.
‘So now you’re having dates with your boyfriend’s sister when you thought you were dating her husband, and you’ve already taken her job?’
‘I met her for a coffee, yes. She’s nice. Has her own problems.’
‘You don’t like a simple life, do you, Amber?’
‘It would appear not.’
‘So what did she say about Adr… err, Steve?’
‘That I should cut him some slack. He’s recently come out of a difficult marriage and the divorce is acrimonious because they’ve been arguing about custody of a dog.’
‘Sounds woof.’
‘Mir, I’m becoming seriously worried about you.’
‘What can I say? It’s a Christmas Mir-acle. I’ve fallen for a panto dwarf. So what are you going to do anyway? Are you going to give peace a chance?’
I volley a troll at her. ‘Seriously stop, you’re scaring me. I really don’t know. What I do know though is that I’m not thinking about it over Christmas. It will be me, lots of chocolate and the Christmas Doctor Who.’
‘I feel like I’m letting you down. I’ll ditch Shaun and come over as planned.’
‘No, you won’t, I’m actually quite happy to be on my own.’ As I say the words I realise I mean them. I’ve had enough of other people for now. A couple of days to myself will be lovely. No need to leap out of bed on Christmas morning. I can open my few presents when I like. I won’t have to share my Bucks Fizz. Also, I can eat chocolate for breakfast. Then I can snuggle and read my new book. Ooh, and I can wear my onesie all day.
‘What are you smiling at?’
‘I’m looking forward to Christmas.’
‘Me too.’
We chink our coffee mugs together.
We play Christmas songs through the computer. It’s a lovely day and although it’s not a nice thing to say, I like the fact that Jo’s not around and we can talk freely. Smithy has also taken this week off on annual leave, so we’re not expecting him to walk in at any moment.
‘What do you think it’ll be like in the New Year when he’s back?’ Mirelle asks
‘If he’s any sense, he’ll act as if nothing happened and carry on as normal.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Oh, by the way, that reminds me. Andi came in this morning. They’re going to advertise my job permanently. She says now they’ve streamlined they can finalise the post.’
‘Are you going for it?’
‘Yes. It’s what I need, a bit of stability.’
‘You’ll get it. I doubt anyone else will go for it. People have only just taken their new roles. I’m sure they won’t want to change round again.’
‘Fingers crossed. I do feel guilty about Karen though. Oh sorry,’ I say, remembering that it was because of Mirelle that Karen no longer has a post.
‘Well, though I feel bad about what I did, it meant I got to meet you, so I can’t regret it too much. Plus I kept my own job, which I need to survive. Karen has a husband.’
I don’t explain that this is not necessarily the case. It’s not my business.
‘Anyway, you don’t have Karen’s job, you have the parts of it. Karen’s job was split between several people to save money. The whole place has been streamlined, there were far too many of us. Now it looks like it’s getting sorted and I for one will breathe a sigh of relief if that means no more redundancies.’
We get to finish at two and stroll over to the pub for a quick one before we hug each other and wish each other a lovely Christmas.
I’m home for four and let myself into the house. The heating was set on a timer and the house is cosy and warm. I change into my onesie, starting early, grab my book and snuggle on the sofa. I cook the little Christmas snacks I bought for the day; pigs in blankets, prawns in
filo pastry, mini quiches. I bring them through to the lounge and work my way through the lot. Flaky pastry covers my onesie and the sofa but I don’t care. I knock it to the floor or eat it. I watch some Christmas programmes and have a couple of vodkas. At the stroke of midnight, I wish myself a Merry Christmas and then I reach for my mobile and send Will a text.
‘Merry Christmas, Will, from a sober(ish) Amber. Wishing you all the best for the New Year.’
There’s no response. Not that I really expect one.
I hover over the keys, thinking about whether to send Steve a text. If I do, then I’m saying it was okay what he did, the lies. I’m not letting myself have the space I need to think. I put my phone down.
A little after one my phone beeps. Steve has sent me a text. It simply reads, ‘Merry Christmas.’ No begging for a second chance, just season’s greetings. I send back, ‘you too.’ Of course, this proves a mistake because then my mobile rings and it’s him. I turn off my phone and go to bed, pausing as I close the curtains to look up the street. I stare at all the Christmas decorations inside the windows and in the gardens. The weather is still. There’s just a slight glistening of frost. It glints under the glow of the streetlights. I feel warm, calm and Christmassy. I snuggle under the duvet, knowing I have nothing to get up early for, no to-do list. It’s lovely. I spread myself out on the bed, sleeping diagonally, with my legs on the other side. Then I consider it’s no longer another side, it’s all mine. I perform a satisfied yawn and tuck the top of the duvet tightly around my neck so no cold air can get in.
I’m woken the next morning by a knock on the door. Who the hell is waking me up at—I look at the clock—ten-thirty?
It's Shaun and Mirelle.
‘We know you said you were okay with us spending the day at Shaun’s but then we thought about you all on your own at Christmas and thought, nope, we need to be there.’
‘I’ve brought a turkey,’ says Shaun, staggering in with a bag full of food.
‘No really, it’s okay,’ I say, trying to cover my mouth with its foul, stagnant breath. ‘You two get yourselves back home, I’m fine.’
Journey to the Centre of Myself Page 18
