The Christmas Project: A laugh-out-loud romance from bestselling author Maxine Morrey. Maxine Morrey
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passed another half an hour until I found a little café and ensconced myself at a table. Nearby a string quartet were busking, the live music adding to the atmosphere as people stopped to watch and listen. My gaze drifted to the passing crowds and the others at the tables surrounding me; couples opening bags and pulling presents from them to show the other their purchase, families laughing and, occasionally, squabbling after a long day as everyone became tired. I loved this time of year – the lights, the decorations, the music. It made me happy. For the most part. Although my formative Christmas experiences might have put me off for life, I’d held on determinedly to the joy that the season was supposed to bring, and hoped that, one day, I’d find it.
I had to admit that it wasn’t always the easiest of tasks and just occasionally I floundered. A couple of years had seen me grab a last-minute break abroad to some sun-soaked spot instead, where I’d do nothing but read and sip drinks from glasses decorated with so much fruit I could get my five a day from one cocktail. The peace of the places I chose for those holidays helped shift the focus of the past, helped me not to think about the possibility that I might never actually get that perfect Christmas. That it was all just a mirage I’d created in my head. Perhaps nobody really got it. But that didn’t stop me wanting it. Deep down in my soul, away from the rational, organised me, the dreamer that I kept locked away still wanted it.
And this year there was a glimmer of hope. My normal levels of enthusiasm for the season had been heightened by Calum almost promising that we would definitely spend a few days together over the break. It would be the first time since we’d started dating that we’d be together for more than a few hours or one night. For once, it would actually feel like we were a couple.
I pulled out my phone and selected him from my contacts. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi babe. How are you?’ he asked.
‘OK thanks. I’m just at Covent Garden, having a mooch around. I was just wondering if you might want to come and join me? We could – ’
‘Babe I’d love to.’
My smile widened. I told myself off for prejudging him, having expected him to almost certainly say no.
‘But I’m kind of tied up with something at the moment. Maybe later?’
My hopes deflated. I’d discovered a while ago that when Calum said ‘maybe later’ it was generally code for ‘not a chance’.
‘OK,’ I said, unwilling to get into an argument about it right now. And who knew? Maybe this time he would surprise me.
‘How long will you be there?’
‘I’m not sure. I hadn’t really decided.’
‘Well, tell you what. I’ll send you a text when I’m on my way. In the meantime, you just get on and do what you need to.’
‘Sure. Sounds like a plan.’
In all likelihood a plan for him not to turn up, but a plan all the same.
‘OK babe. Gotta go. I’ll see you later, hopefully.’
‘See you later.’
I placed the phone on the table so that I would hear it if and when Calum texted. As I did so the waiter approached, holding a menu. I’d originally only planned to have a hot chocolate and maybe a slice of cake, but suddenly I wanted to extend the warm feeling of being wrapped up in Christmas. I took the menu and chose a meal and a glass of wine. Eating alone had never bothered me - It certainly wasn’t a new experience. The waiter returned a few minutes later with my drink. I sat watching the Christmas world go by and sipped my wine.
Over an hour later, having soaked up the atmosphere, eaten and paid, I gathered my bags and shopping and picked up my phone from the table. There was no text from Calum.
***
‘Oh she was so happy!’ Bernice enthused as I put the drink down on her desk. ‘She couldn’t believe that just organising her home would make such an impact on her life. It’s incredible the difference in her. She’s so much more pulled together now and we rediscovered all these beautiful clothes that she hadn’t worn for years and she’s started wearing them again. There’s just this air of confidence and happiness about her now. It’s wonderful! So different from the woman I met on the first consultation. Aren’t these just gorgeous?’ Bernice finished arranging the blooms that her client had sent her back with and looked around for a suitable place to put the vase. Not the easiest of tasks. The office wasn’t large and I had to admit I may have gone a tad overboard with the Christmas decorations, so that it now had the distinct appearance of an elves’ grotto rather than an office. But hey, it was only once a year and it was my office, and Bernice was all for it. On top of that, it made us happy, which trumped everything. Bernice shuffled a stuffed snowman to the side to make room for the flowers and stood back to admire them.
‘They’re lovely Bernice. I’m so glad she was happy. And you obviously did a stellar job, as usual. Well done.’
Bernice smiled. ‘Thanks.’
The week had been pretty crammed for both of us and we were exhausted from running about, trying to make sure all of our clients were happy and on top of things. One had rung in a panic, advising they had had a ‘relapse’ so we’d juggled diaries and I fitted them in to mine, scooting over early this morning to see what calamity had occurred. In the end, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I’d feared. The client had just had a bit of a wobble with the thought of various visitors coming to descend on her over the holidays, and had suddenly felt a little overwhelmed. But within a few hours, we’d tackled the problem and the client was back in control and ready for her seasonal visitors.
Michael O’Farrell was next on my list and I was a little surprised that I was almost looking forward to the appointment. I was pretty sure that this feeling was down to the fact that, as we cleared out the space, the real character and beauty of the house was becoming easier to see and appreciate. It really was the most beautiful house. I only hoped that he appreciated it as much I did. Indeed, more so, since he lived there. However, as he kept his thoughts about anything remotely personal to himself, he could be either completely oblivious or entirely ecstatic and I’d still be none the wiser. I finished my drink and hooked my bag over my shoulder.
‘Off to see the delectable Mr O’Farrell?’ Bernice asked, grinning.
‘Does your fiancé know you’re referring to clients as “delectable”?’
She laughed. ‘I said he was delectable. But he’s still not as delectable as my Rufus.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ I smiled. ‘Have a good day and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Have fun!’ Bernice waved and I pulled the office door closed behind me.
***
Michael was on the phone when he answered the door to me. He gave a brief smile and gestured me inside as he continued the conversation. Work stuff, by the sound of it.
‘Can you hang on a minute Bob?’ Michael pulled the phone away and pressed mute. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know how long I’m going to be on here.’
‘It’s fine. We’d planned on tackling your books today. That’s a favourite bit of mine anyway so I can just get going on that if you don’t mind me starting without you.’
‘Not at all. But I know the deal was for me to take part in the process. A fact that you were insistent on making crystal clear on your first visit.’ His mouth was serious but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.
‘It was and you are. But there’s got to be flexibility built in to the process. Carry on with your call. It sounds important. I’ll see you when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks Kate. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
I nodded and turned to hang up my coat as Michael resumed his conversation, then headed across the hallway before casting