With less than one month to go, Christmas was practically on the doorstep. Lights hung in Regent Street, dazzling crowds, creating a festive, frenzied spirit over London shoppers. Hitting the shops wasn’t something Sophie had time to do; she was putting in extra hours trying to finish her projects before the silly season started.
Sophie’s creative team was thrilled about the skinny dipping concept for the Silver account. Desmond, the art director, was particularly excited about the commercial. He was quick to find an actress to star in the national commercial. On paper, his actress was quite green but she had a smile that would sell pool memberships.
Desmond also had the responsibility to find a suitable filming location in Brighton. But he hadn’t yet made the time. With Christmas fast approaching, Sophie would probably need to lend a hand and travel the hour to help him out.
Even Bradley seemed impressed with how the team was operating on the Silver account. He hadn’t taken Sophie off the account – not yet.
Kelly smirked around the office, boasting how she was responsible for juggling too many accounts. She also couldn’t help rubbing in the fact that she was working on the Barney’s Chocolates pitch. Sophie tried to ignore Kelly’s competitive barbs, where Kelly insinuated Sophie was on the firing squad list.
The truth would win out in the end.
There was also a notable absence in her routine: Roger. His recruiter interviews had gone badly. They’d told him that his skills weren’t transferable because he’d stayed at the same place of employment for so long. He’d refused to take anymore of Sophie’s calls, have lunch with her or even visit her flat.
Sophie was still quite worried about her father’s unemployment situation. When her mother, Gloria Smart rang, Sophie oscillated between telling and not telling. What was right and what was wrong? A question haunted her, was there ever a right time to break someone’s trust? She might be hurting her dad more by not letting her mum know about his dire unemployment situation.
“Sweetheart.” Gloria’s voice wobbled. “I don’t know how to say this.” There was a pause. Sophie could hear Gloria hesitating. She imagined Gloria twisting her hands.
“What?” Sophie urged.
“It’s your father.”
“Yes?” Sophie felt herself clutching the phone tightly, almost as if she was strangling the receiver.
“He’s been acting strangely lately.”
Sophie felt overwhelming frustration. “Oh?” She sighed. No shit. He’d lost his job, and not told his wife for months. “So what’s he been doing that’s so strange?”
“Swimming,” Gloria answered, and a slight smile came to Sophie’s lips. At least he was still being active. That was positive. “He says he’s swimming.”
“I see.” Sophie was elated. Her father wasn’t considering jumping in front of a train at least. “What’s wrong with that?”
“He’s never been a swimmer.” Her voice was shrill. “People don’t just wake up one day and start hanging out at the local pool.”
Guilt washed over her. This was the opportunity to speak up, to tell the truth. “Maybe he just wants to get into shape? Mid-life crisis?” It was true, to a point.
“Mid-life crisis?”
Sophie could hear her mother’s mind ticking over. “It’s possible,” Sophie insisted.
“Yes..., yes..., a mid-life crisis,” Gloria gushed. There was hope in her voice. “He’s also being so tight fisted about everything I buy. It’s like he’s counting every penny.”
“He’s probably worried about retirement. You should bring this all up with him.”
“You think I should simply talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“I might. We’ll see.” There was a pause. “I was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong, that he was having an affair and that’s why he’s getting into shape.”
“Oh,” Sophie squeaked.
“There’s something else as well. Do you think you can speak to your dad about Christmas? Your father is insisting that we keep it all low key. No turkey. No pudding. No big expenses. But your sister, she’s so excited. She’s already booked a cottage for us all. I had all of these ideas….”
Sophie’s chest tightened, anxious about the cost of the cottage. Who was going to pay for this? She started gently. “Maybe Christmas at home would be easier.” Her voice remained flat.
“I love Christmas, and a cottage would be such fun. Something different, you know.”
“Yes, but if Dad has an objection….”
“Please Sophie, chat with him.” There was desperation in Gloria’s voice. “You two are alike.”
Sophie felt a lump in her throat. The jobless state, the secret was eating them. “I’ll do my best. But I can’t promise anything,” she said stiffly.
“You’re not in cahoots with him, are you?”
“No,” Sophie said, quickly. Too quickly.
“Any word from Derek?” Her mother asked. “Any sign of an engagement ring? Do you think he’ll come up and visit for Christmas? We all love Derek.” Yeah, they all loved Derek more than her.
“Ah Mum, about that.” Notions of trust, honesty and communication circled round in her head. She needed to come clean; it wasn’t like she’d done something awful. She hadn’t told anyone about Derek initially because she’d thought they would get back together and wanted to save them temporary pain. “Derek and I have broken up. I’ve moved out into a new flat.”
Silence followed and continued for so long that Sophie almost thought she’d been disconnected. Then she heard a wailing sound. “What happened? He was so lovely. I’ve already bought him a Christmas present.” It was too much for Gloria. She erupted down the phone. “You should have told me, because I don’t have a receipt and you’re father’s practically checking them,” Gloria shouted down the phone.
Then the dialling tone sounded – the end of the call.