Dream a Little Christmas Dream

  ‘Great – I’m just round the corner. See you in a sec,’ I say, putting down the phone and saving my icicle of a hand (which I’m sure is just seconds from frostbite) in the warmth of my coat pocket.

  When I get to the pub a few minutes later, Carly and Natalia have already joined the others at our usual spot in the corner.

  ‘Drink,’ Natalia says, coming at me with a glass of mulled wine and a hug.

  I welcome both – squeezing her before taking a gulp.

  Ah.

  Warm winter heaven trickles down my throat.

  ‘Busy day?’ she asks sympathetically, her kind brown eyes furrowed in concern for my wellbeing. (Which is ironic as I know she works longer hours than the rest of us put together. Natalia never stops. Her phone is practically glued to her hand, ready for work to call with an interior design disaster – I’ve no doubt that even on Christmas Day she’ll be on high alert, just in case the wrong shade of sofa cushion is spoiling the magical day for a wealthy client. Sounds far-fetched, but you don’t know how barmy and eccentric some upper-class folk can be.)

  ‘Normal Christmas chaos,’ I admit, giving her another squeeze and finding myself envious of how beautifully put together she always looks in her work suits. I inevitably have an element of shabbiness to me, no matter how hard I try – although I’m not as scruffy and boho as Carly, who continues to look as though she’s about to hit the beach in Thailand any minute.

  ‘Can you believe you’ve been there almost a year?’ Natalia asks as we walk towards the table and the rest of our gathered friends.

  ‘A year since our Sarah grew some balls and told Red Brick where they could shove it.’ Alastair, my man-bunned and tattooed friend grins, joining in the conversation as he affectionately shakes my shoulder.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ I say, rolling my eyes as I remove my multiple layers of winter clothes. ‘I think you’ll find I’ve always had balls – I just used them in a very different way.’

  ‘True story,’ agrees Josh as he engulfs me in one of his magnificent hugs. Even though he’s now dating Carly, I’m still graced with this simple joy. I have to admit that I’m more than glad their relationship hasn’t stopped him doling out those bad boys … they really are hugs on another level and I don’t think I could emotionally cope with life if they were ripped from it. Although it’s a shame those hugs are stealing my best friend out of our flat …

  Not that I can blame her.

  Argh.

  Having toured the group, I eventually get to my spot next to Brett and collapse into his arms, giving him a fantastically great smacker on the mouth.

  ‘Your lips are cold,’ he murmurs, kissing me again.

  ‘Need warming up.’ I nod with the sauciest look I can muster – a slight raise of an eyebrow and quick pout of the lips.

  ‘Get a room!’ Dan grins as he and Lexie sidle up to the table.

  ‘Hi, guys,’ smiles Lexie, looking warm and radiant.

  I used to only be able to refer to Dan as my ex and Lexie as the perfect girl he left me for, but over the last year I’ve managed to somehow let go of all the anguish and heartache that was following me around and accept this weird group dynamic. It was understandably hard for Brett to get his head around it too, but he quickly realised I wasn’t hankering to have Dan back in my life romantically and he even chivalrously escorted me to their wedding.

  Thank goodness.

  I mean, I’m over it and thankfully felt nothing as I saw Dan stood at the altar, but let’s face it – no one wants to go to an ex’s wedding … especially not alone, looking like some desperado still clinging on to the hope of reconciliation.

  With Brett by my side, I luckily diverted that assumption from other guests – and I thanked him for being there for me by making him my boyfriend that night.

  I know.

  I’m so kind.

  ‘Guys,’ says Ian, the balding pub landlord and overseer of all things pub-quiz related. He’s usually upbeat and excited about the quiz ahead, but tonight he seems a tad forlorn and miserable. ‘Glad you’re all here. I’ve got a bit of a problem …’

  ‘What’s up, big man?’ asks Alastair, lounging back with his arm draped over the back of Natalia’s chair – I’ve never thought of such a stance as suggestive in our group, but seeing as Carly and Josh were always touchy-feely and we thought nothing of it, you never can tell. Perhaps in a few months’ time we’ll find out these two have been bonking like rabbits too. Stranger things have happened.

  ‘Everything still on for tonight?’ Josh asks. He might be our cuddly bear, but that doesn’t mean he’s not the most competitive one of us all.

  ‘What?’ asks Ian, looking confused. ‘Oh, yes, yes – everything’s fine for tonight.’

  ‘Thank fuck,’ grins Dan, grabbing his beer and downing half of it in one.

  ‘It’s next week I have a slight problem with …’ Ian mumbles.

  ‘What?’ squeaks Josh, the fear already present in his voice, even though he’s got no idea what Ian is going to say.

  The following Wednesday night quiz is the final one of the year – the one that’ll decide whether we spend our Christmases as victors or losers. Needless to say, it’s an important one and carries great significance.

  ‘Well, I can’t be here,’ says Ian, glancing round at the bar and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than standing at this table giving us this quivering confession.

  ‘What?’ stammers Josh, his face losing some of its colour.

  ‘Shit,’ mutters Alastair, looking around at the rest of us who are equally bummed out over the news.

  ‘Oh no, why?’ asks Natalia softly, sensing how awkward Ian looks and thankfully being a bit more delicate in her approach to the situation.

  ‘Anything wrong?’ I grimace.

  ‘Family thing,’ he replies, shaking his head sadly. ‘A problem I need to sort.’

  ‘Right,’ says Dan, raising an eyebrow at Brett.

  ‘Are you going to cancel the quiz, then?’ asks Carly, putting a hand on Josh’s leg to keep him stable in case the answer is a regrettable yes.

  ‘Hopefully not.’ Ian sighs – a sound that is echoed around our table. ‘That’s why I wanted to talk to you guys. I know you all love the quiz – you’re here most weeks without fail. Well, I wondered if anyone would mind stepping in as quizmaster.’

  ‘Can’t one of the staff do it?’ asks Alastair, looking past Ian to Becky the barmaid, who’s pulling a pint of bitter for one of the locals.

  ‘It’s Christmas. Our busiest time.’ Ian shrugs.

  ‘Don’t you have any friends you could ask?’ asks Natalia, almost pleading.

  ‘Sadly not. All busy. I’ve tried. Christmas parties to go to, presents to buy, family to see … you know.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ offers Brett, raising his hands up as though sacrificing himself.

  ‘You will?’ asks Ian, his face lighting up.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ says Josh, leaning over to Brett. ‘You’re our best player.’

  ‘Oi,’ says Carly, pretending to be offended. ‘I answer at least two questions correctly every week. Three if I’m on a roll. And Sarah’s not too bad herself.’

  ‘True, you two really do bring something special to our efforts, but, having said that, I’d much rather one of you girls took over on the mic than Brett.’

  ‘You cheeky fucker,’ laughs Carly, slapping him on the thigh.

  ‘We play to win,’ says Alastair to Brett, looking equally unimpressed.

  ‘Well, if no one agrees to do it, there’ll be nothing to win,’ Ian says regretfully.

  ‘It’s not going to come to that,’ sighs Brett, frowning at the group. ‘Guys, you’re the originals. You started the year as just the seven of you and you should end it like that. A quiz is better than no quiz, right?’

  ‘You’re right,’ caves in Josh with a sigh, looking really downtrodden. ‘You girls just need to up your general knowledge by next week.’

  ‘W
e’ll revise non-stop,’ I joke with a roll of my eyes.

  Although I love the feeling of winning, the real reason I love our Wednesday nights is because it gives us an excuse to all be together – something I don’t think every friendship group experiences when they leave their uni days behind them. Most disperse across the country and see each other once a month, if they’re lucky – especially after so many years have drifted by.

  ‘That’s sorted then. Don’t worry, Ian,’ says Brett with a pensive smile as he gives him a friendly slap on the back. ‘We’ve got this under control.’

  ‘Thank you!’ gushes Ian with a relieved grin on his face, happy to have the matter sorted. ‘Free drinks all round for the inconvenience?’

  ‘Wouldn’t say no,’ grins Alastair as the whole table instantly perks up.

  ‘No drink like a free drink,’ nods Dan, tilting his empty glass in Ian’s direction.

  Once the dust has settled over the absence of Brett on our team the following week, talk turns to normal life and Christmas plans.

  ‘Actually, we’ve got some news,’ says Josh, grinning at Carly.

  ‘We’ve moving in together!’ squeals Carly in response, doing a little jig in her chair and appearing even more thrilled about the matter than she did she when she told me earlier.

  ‘When?’ asks Natalia with a huge grin on her face – looking totally ecstatic.

  ‘As soon as we find a place,’ Josh says excitedly, pulling Carly into him.

  ‘That’s brilliant,’ smiles Lexie, leaning over and placing her hand over Carly’s and giving it a little rub.

  ‘Did you know?’ Brett whispers quietly into my ear.

  ‘She told me this morning. Forgot to tell you …’ I mumble back.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, looking up at him with a small smile that tells him that although I’m far from thrilled that my bestie is moving out of our cosy little flat, I’m pleased for her and Josh to be starting this new adventure together.

  Brett puts his arm around me and holds me close. I lean into him and watch happily as our friends coo over their news.

  ‘Actually, we’ve got something to share too …’ says Lexie, tears springing to her eyes as she side glances at Dan.

  He gives her an encouraging nod and shuffles in his seat.

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ she squeaks, holding her hands either side of her face and giving them a little wave of elation.

  ‘No way!’ beams Alastair, getting to his feet.

  ‘Almost twelve weeks,’ grins Dan, rubbing her non-existent bump.

  ‘This is so exciting,’ wails Natalia, tears streaming down her face instantly at the overload of information she’s just received.

  ‘Amazing news,’ I chip in, aware that Brett’s hold around me has stiffened.

  I place my hand on his and give it a little reassuring squeeze, signalling I’m fine with this news. It’s hardly unexpected – they’ve been married for ten months and live in their own home. They’re ready to start bringing children into their idyllic little set-up.

  The thought of there being a baby in the group makes me think of Carly and what she must be feeling having lost her own just a year ago – imagining the news to stir up a mixture of emotion and sorrow. However, whatever significance I try to pin onto the situation, she appears to be nothing but happy as she dives around the table to give Lexie a hug.

  I stand up and follow suit, enjoying the giddy hysteria that’s settled over our table.

  ‘Look at you all growing up,’ says Natalia, wiping her eyes before picking up her wine glass and taking a gulp.

  ‘Had to start happening at some point.’ Josh shrugs, looking happier than I’ve ever seen him.

  ‘Making you think about all the things we haven’t got?’ asks Alastair, the other remaining singleton in our group.

  ‘Their joy brings me joy,’ Natalia replies thoughtfully, raising her glass at the table and looking as though she’s about to start bawling again.

  ‘We’ll get there … ’ Alastair winks at her, giving her elbow a little nudge with his. ‘And if we’re both still single when we’re forty –’

  ‘Don’t even go there!’ she gasps, making us all laugh as she jumps away from him in disdain. ‘I am not going to be a forty-year-old spinster!’

  ‘As if you would be!’ laughs Carly, squeezing hold of her tiny waist in a protective manner. ‘You on the other hand …’ she says jokily, turning to Alastair. ‘A little less bed-hopping and more conversation might be the way forward.’

  ‘What can I say?’ He shrugs. ‘I’m very good at forewords – there never seems to be any point in sticking around for the full novel.’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Lexie. ‘But someone will come along and change that.’

  ‘That’s what everyone says,’ nods Alastair. ‘Seriously though, guys – stop trying to cut short my fun. I’m so chuffed for you all in your coupled merriment … ’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ says Natalia, suddenly getting the giggles as she tops up her glass and raises it in the air. ‘To the grown-ups.’

  ‘The grown-ups,’ we all chorus in salute.

  ‘So when are you due?’ Josh asks Lexie, turning the focus back onto the biggest news of the night.

  ‘June,’ she beams.

  ‘Seems like ages away,’ Dan says with a groan. ‘These first few weeks have dragged so much.’

  ‘So that’s why you’ve not been drinking,’ Carly gasps.

  ‘You mean, there was no detox?’ asks Natalia, looking equally dumbfounded.

  ‘A detox in December?’ asks Dan, looking at us all as though we were mad to have believed his trustworthy wife.

  ‘I knew something was up,’ says Alastair with a nod, looking pleased with himself.

  ‘No you didn’t,’ I laugh, picking up a crisp from the table and throwing it at him. In typical Alastair style, he effortlessly catches it in his mouth and grins back at me while munching on it.

  ‘Pregnancy really suits you,’ Carly says to Lexie. ‘You’re really glowing.’

  ‘Thank you … I feel awful,’ she says, puffing out her cheeks although unable to hide her delight at her condition.

  ‘You’re hiding it well,’ Carly says kindly.

  ‘God, I don’t feel it,’ Lexie giggles. ‘So where are you going to move to?’ she asks back.

  I watch my friends (some settled and preparing for new adventures, others footloose and carefree, ready for whatever comes their way) and wonder where I fit in the whole world of ‘Grown-ups’. I suddenly feel as though I’m in limbo and hate myself for the dissatisfied feeling that’s beginning to slither over me …

  3

  We win. It’s a landslide victory thanks to our nemesis team, the High-kick-flyers, being absent – they were off being charitable and performing Christmas carols in an old people’s home nearby. So although we win by miles we know the real competition will be when they’re back next week and we’re not just up against the other crappy teams who seem to have a lower IQ than Joey Essex.

  On the walk home, with my arm looped through Brett’s, I start to ponder the icky feeling that’s unexpectedly crawled up under my skin since hearing everyone’s happy news. I know the feeling – it’s one I’ve unfortunately had the pleasure of battling with before.

  It’s a feeling of discontent.

  Of something missing.

  Of knowing there’s more to life than what I currently have in my lap.

  The last time I had it was only a year ago – and that was largely down to my unresolved anger towards Dan and Lexie, being lonely and wanting someone to love me, having a shitty job that I was over-qualified for, and feeling like a constant disappointment to my parents (my mother in particular). Well, having let the feeling fester for long enough, I somehow managed to eventually turn everything around. I forgave the God-awful situation with Dan, met Brett (although it was the dream version of Brett that actually kept me company to start with), and walked out of my no-hope of a
job into a much better one – thus making my mum proud.

  And I’ve still got all that.

  I’m happy.

  I should be happy.

  So why do I suddenly feel like I’m not?

  What could it possibly mean?

  That I’m a greedy cow, who wants even more, that’s what. That this happy little set-up with Brett suddenly isn’t enough. It means I want more of him; I want a future. I want to know I’m going to marry him one day and have his babies … I want us to plan to grow old and boring together.

  ‘Where do you see us going?’ I ask abruptly, without giving my brain and heart a chance to really process the feeling inside me that’s quickly spreading through my veins like an itchy poison. The thought of talking about the future usually petrifies me, so God knows why I’ve leapt in so carelessly without any planning or clarity as to where I want this conversation to go.

  There’s a pause.

  Silence.

  I feel sick as I wait for a response.

  ‘Home?’ He shrugs, noncommittally, his gaze on his size ten feet.

  ‘And after that?’ I say, nudging him slightly – both physically and mentally.

  ‘Bed?’ he asks, glancing sideways at me as though I’ve turned slightly crazy. ‘Right?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I nod, feeling like a complete twat as I smile up at him and try desperately to blink back the tears that are stupidly threatening to spill. Seriously, what on earth is wrong with me? Though, actually, what the fuck is wrong with him?

  For the last three hours we’ve been hearing all about Carly and Josh’s hopes for their new pad and Dan and Lexie gushing as they share some baby chat – all nattering on about how great their futures are going to be. I know Brett knows exactly where my head is at right now, when I’m asking a question about our future, and I can’t help but feel knocked back and deflated that he hasn’t taken the bait and come back with something nice – even if it was just a lie.

  Holy shit. What if his avoidance is because he doesn’t see a future with me?