‘Let’s get going,’ Simon urged. He pulled off his snorkel and tossed it carelessly into the boot next to the suitcase.
Kirsten took a last lingering look at the house. It was a beautiful house; she just wasn’t sure that it had ever been a home. Tyler had worked hard for it, too hard, and perhaps ultimately that was what had caused their downfall. Too much time for work and too little time for each other. Well, he could have it all. With pleasure. All she would walk away with was this small suitcase and her sanity. What she had found was worth far more.
Propping the dejected-looking turkey and the bag of vegetables just inside the front door ready for Tyler’s return – he might as well make use of them – Kirsten closed it behind her for the final time and ran to join Simon.
She slipped into the car next to him, happy to get out of the falling snow, which was clinging to the spindly trees along the pavement and starting to look alarmingly like the winter wonderland at the Fossil Oil Christmas party. Kirsten shuddered at the memory.
‘Ready?’ Simon asked.
She nodded silently, unable to speak, her eyes burning with tears of both happiness and regret.
‘One thing’s for certain,’ Simon said lightly as he put the car into gear: ‘I’ll make sure that the parties are a lot tamer in the Seychelles or wherever we end up. All things considered, that was one hell of a Christmas party.’
Kirsten laughed tearfully. ‘I suppose it was,’ she agreed.
He squeezed her hand comfortingly and eased the car into the street.
As they turned the corner, neither of them looked back. If they had, they’d have seen Tyler pulling up behind them in his car and bounding up to the house with hope in his step.
Chapter Sixty-two
So, I lied to Josh about showing him a wild time. Though I have to say he doesn’t seem to be minding too much.
We’re currently at the shopping centre in the city, which is beautifully decked out for Christmas. When I say ‘we’, I mean all of us. There’s Mum, Dad, Mia, me and Josh. I’ve decided not to go for the gentle introduction. If Josh thinks he wants to be involved in our lives, he might as well have it full-on.
On the very rare occasions I have seen other men, I took it gently – had at least a few dates before the subject of Mia even cropped up. It may have been the types I unwisely chose to date, but the minute most men realised I had a daughter in tow they went scuttling to the hills. So far, Josh hasn’t done any scuttling at all. He’s been treated to the unexpurgated Young Family Experience package and he hasn’t flinched once. I admire that in a man. He currently has my daughter on his shoulders so that she can get a better view, and she doesn’t seem to be fazed by that either. As I watch her giggling and wriggling, Josh holding tightly on to her sturdy legs, there’s a little lump closing my throat that might be happiness, or it might be sadness that she hasn’t had this before.
This year the shopping centre seems to have gone completely over the top with the decorations, and it’s none the worse for it. The place looks fantastic. Middleton Hall, the main square in front of John Lewis, is sparkling under a gossamer canopy of silver threads. Iridescent stars hang down, catching dazzling, twirling lights.
Santa’s grotto is under the watch of a benign snow queen. She stands impeccable in white robes and silver crown, welcoming the children. Her attendant fairies fly on transparent wings above the magical scene that’s been created to great effect. There are miniature castles with fancy turrets surrounded by sparkling moats and rivers of glitter.
Mia, of course, is speechless with awe.
Mum looks up at her. ‘It’s your turn now, little lady,’ she says, checking her watch against the number printed on our timed ticket.
So Josh lowers her from his shoulders and we join the queue that snakes towards Santa’s grotto.
As we get to the turnstile, Josh’s phone rings and he pulls it out of his pocket. When he glances at it, his eyes widen. ‘Lance Harvey,’ he says to me with a puzzled frown. ‘What can he want?’
‘Take it,’ I tell him. ‘We can go and see Santa and meet you out here later. We won’t be long.’
Mum hands over our tickets and they’re clipped by a grinning elf.
‘Why would Lance be ringing me?’
‘It might be important.’
It also might be about him being sacked by Tyler, I think, but I obviously can’t say that with my parents here. They’re already fussing over Josh as if we’ve been together for years. Not only is my mother thinking about a hat, I suspect she’s already mentally compiling a guest list. I don’t want to tell them yet that all is not quite hunky-dory in Team Louise. I try to convey this message to Josh with my eyes and he winks back at me that he’s understood.
‘He might just be wishing me happy Christmas,’ Josh says, laughing at how unlikely that is. ‘Whatever it is, it can wait for a few minutes.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ He lets his phone go to voicemail and pockets it again. ‘I’ve never seen Santa in real life before. We can’t wait, can we, Mia?’
He high-fives my daughter and I can tell she’s already smitten by him. As I may well be too. Suddenly, I find myself hoping Josh Wallace is going to be in our lives on a permanent basis.
We’re ushered into the grotto, which is a marvellous creation of a cave fashioned from fake snow and glitter. Mia slips her hand into mine while we walk through the twisty-turny corridor until we reach the man himself.
Santa’s sitting on a silver chair and looks suitably rotund and ruddy, just as he should. I thought Mia might be shy, but I should have known my daughter better. As soon as she sees him she runs to hug him, squashing herself into his pillowy stomach.
‘Now, Mia,’ he says, checking the card that my mum has handed to him. ‘What would you like for Christmas?’
Alarmingly, my daughter holds up her fingers to count. ‘I’d like a micro-scooter in pink,’ she starts. ‘A Furby Party Rocker. A ballerina jewellery box.’
Even though she has no jewellery.
‘An It’s Teatime tea set. A ballerina Barbie. A KidiPet cat.’
‘My, my,’ Santa says, peering over his fake glasses. ‘That’s a long list.’
‘I haven’t finished,’ Mia informs him.
Josh and I hide our giggles and he looks at me as if he can’t believe what my daughter is coming out with. I feel much the same.
‘A My Little Pony Crystal Empire. A trampoline.’
Over my dead body. I have no desire to spend every weekend in A&E.
‘A Baby Born doll.’ She takes a deep breath. Thankfully, she’s running out of fingers. ‘A Sleeping Beauty Glitter Dress.’
‘My, my,’ Santa says again. The poor man looks a bit shell-shocked now.
‘Or a Cinderella Glitter Dress, if you can’t get that one.’
I blame Mum for going through the Argos Christmas catalogue with her in September. I’m just glad there are a few of these things at home already, under the tree or stowed in the loft for tomorrow. Most of it has been bought by my indulgent parents, but I’m glad I was able to contribute. Without wanting to wish away Christmas, I do wonder what next year will hold.
‘Have you been very good?’ Santa asks my child.
‘Yes. I am the bestest girl in the whole wide world,’ she says proudly, quoting my parents.
Despite not having a father in her life, my child doesn’t seem to suffer from self-esteem issues.
‘Well, then,’ Santa says. ‘I can’t promise that you’ll get everything, but if you put out a little cake for me tonight and a carrot for Rudolph, I’ll make sure that you get some lovely presents.’
‘We put out whisky and one of Granny’s mince pies,’ Mia says. ‘Do you like that?’
‘Yes,’ Santa says, trying to hide his grin. ‘That’s very thoughtful.’
‘Last year Gramps drank the whisky,’ she says, dobbing in my dad.
Gramps admits his guilt with an accepting shrug. Josh just shakes his
head in amused bewilderment. Now he can be in absolutely no doubt what he’s planning to take on. Brave man.
‘I think I could get her a job in sales,’ he whispers to me.
‘Sometimes grown-ups do that,’ Santa says, letting my dad off the hook. ‘But I don’t mind. Now, Mia, would you like to choose a present?’
Mia grabs a prettily wrapped present from the pink pile. The biggest, of course.
Then we head outside with my beaming child and my parents, who both have tears in their eyes. I feel a little bit choked myself. It won’t be long before she learns that Santa doesn’t really exist and that everything she asks for won’t automatically be delivered to her door.
When we’re back out in the shopping centre, Josh says, ‘Thanks so much for including me in that.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘Now I think I should treat us all to a twirl on the merry-goround.’
‘Yay!’ Mia shouts and takes me by the hand to drag me there.
We all head over to the carousel with its pretty prancing horses. They’re painted in pink, yellow and gold, suspended on twirling poles like candy canes.
‘My Little Pony,’ Mia says excitedly.
At the booth, Josh shells out a small fortune for tickets.
‘Not for us,’ Mum protests as he hands over a great wodge of cash.
‘For all of us,’ Josh insists, and my mother goes all girly. She’s already his number-one fan. Poor Dad won’t get a look-in tomorrow. Josh will get the juiciest cut of turkey, the crispest roast potatoes, the biggest bowl of Christmas pudding.
‘I haven’t been on a carousel in years,’ she twitters. ‘What do you think about that, Bernard?’
Dad just nods, but is clearly pleased to have the unique pleasure of some male company while undertaking these unseemly activities that are so often required of him. He’s always the one stoically accompanying Mia into the swimming pool, ball-pit or bouncy castle as my mum doesn’t like to mess up her hair.
While we wait for the carousel to stop so that we can get on, I say to Josh, ‘You’d better check what Lance Harvey wants. Everyone will have disappeared for Christmas soon.’
‘You’re right,’ he says, and pulls out his mobile.
He moves away from us slightly, clamping the phone tight to his head to try to block out the hurdy-gurdy music while he listens to the voicemail. As he does, I can see the colour of his face change. It goes from red to white and back again in seconds. Something is obviously very wrong.
When he hangs up, he turns to me. Now he’s ashen.
‘What?’ My heart is in my mouth. Perhaps Tyler has decided to charge Josh with assault, or sue us both or something. What a great Christmas present that would be. Whatever it is, I’m frightened by the look on his face. Whatever Lance Harvey has said to him, it’s clearly rocked Josh’s world. ‘Tell me. What’s wrong?’
It’s a moment or two before he can speak, and that worries me even more.
Eventually he blurts out, ‘I’ve been promoted.’
I take a step back. ‘What?’
Josh starts to laugh. He puts his hands to his head. ‘Tyler’s resigned and I’m now the new sales director of Fossil Oil.’ His laugh slips towards hysterical.
‘There must be some mistake.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He holds out the phone to me and plays the message again.
Sure enough, it’s Lance offering him the position of sales director, and he doesn’t sound like he’s joking. And why would he? Lance may be a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s a prankster. This does indeed sound deadly serious.
‘Can this be true? I’m not doubting your ability,’ I assure him, ‘but why’s Tyler resigned?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Josh says. ‘Something has clearly happened since we left the office.’
That’s an understatement.
‘I need to call Lance right away,’ he says.
The merry-go-round slows as he presses to return Lance’s call. It rings out as the current riders dismount. Mia is bouncing in her excitement, tugging on my hand. My mother is straightening her hair with her hand in preparation.
After a few seconds, Josh shrugs. ‘No reply.’
‘You’ll have to sort it out in the new year,’ I say.
‘Yeah.’ He still looks stunned.
‘Until then’ – I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly. He’s deserving of this, I’m sure. Out of all the executives I’ve met at Fossil, he seems to be the only man who has some sense of integrity. He’ll do a much better job than Tyler Benson any day – ‘congratulations!’
‘I guess so.’ He’s still perplexed by his good fortune.
‘Mum, Dad, Josh has been given a promotion. He’s going to be the new sales director of Fossil Oil.’
‘Well done, lad,’ Dad says, shaking his hand vigorously. ‘Very well done.’
‘How lovely,’ Mum says, indulging in more hair-patting. She couldn’t be more proud if she was his real mother. ‘We should open a bottle of Buck’s Fizz.’ It’s her celebration drink of choice as my dad gets it cheap with his staff discount in Marks & Spencer.
‘That means I’m going to be your boss,’ Simon points out.
‘Oh, yeah.’ That makes me frown.
‘At least you can consider yourself unsacked,’ he whispers to me.
‘It will be a pleasure to work for you.’
He keeps his voice low so that my parents can’t hear. ‘I don’t want it to affect our relationship.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ I assure him.
His eyes shine. ‘This is good news. More than I could have hoped for. The future looks bright for us, Louise.’
‘I really hope so.’ What a team we’ll make!
Goodness only knows what’s happened at Fossil in our wake, but I can’t wait to find out. Looks like we’ll have to be patient until after Christmas. Still, until then we’ll have plenty to be cheerful about.
Who knew that all this would have happened at the Christmas party? I thank my lucky stars that Dad woke me and I went along, otherwise I might have missed it. I may never have had the chance to meet Josh and we could have continued to be nothing but colleagues who exchanged pleasantries. Now I hope I’ve found a man who will be in our lives for good. It’s too soon to say, of course, but I have great hopes for this relationship. Together we could really go places. Someone with Josh’s ambition and talent could provide both me and Mia with a stable, comfortable life. I like the sound of that.
The pretty painted horses are all empty now. It looks as if they’re waiting just for us.
‘It’s our turn on the merry-go-round,’ I say.
‘Let’s climb on board then.’ Josh scoops Mia into his arms. He looks at us both with what I think is love in his eyes.
Josh takes my hand and helps me to step up as we take our places on the carousel.
Christmas
Day
Chapter Sixty-three
‘Promise you’ll hop on a plane and visit me soon, Mom.’ The voice coming from the laptop screen didn’t quite move in synchronisation with the mouth, but there were times when she was very grateful for Skype.
‘Of course I will, darling,’ Melissa said. She fought back a tear. ‘As soon as things are sorted out here.’
Drew wanted her to go out and stay with him at the orphanage in Nepal that he managed. He was desperate to see her, he’d said, and goodness only knew she was desperate to see her boys too.
‘We’re always grateful for an extra pair of hands, you know, and you’d adore the kids. They’re great. It’s very rewarding.’
It sounded exactly like the sort of thing she’d love to do. Something she’d never previously dared to try, for fear of leaving Lance alone for a few weeks. Now she had left him for good and could do whatever she liked. If she thought about that too much, it made her feel dizzy.
She still had the laptop from the business centre, and from the comfort of her room had Skyped both Drew and Kyl
e on Christmas morning. It was lunchtime for Drew, and he didn’t have long to talk. When he’d started there, a few years ago now, he’d introduced Christmas to the children of the orphanage and they celebrated it in the same way that they celebrated all the other Nepali festivals. She’d shipped an imitation Christmas tree and decorations to him that they put up every year.
Kyle was spending the winter season teaching snowboarding in Gstaad and hadn’t yet been to bed. That was down to partying. It had been lovely to talk to him and she must see him soon too.
‘I love you,’ she said to Drew. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your Christmas celebrations.’
‘You’re not going to be alone, Mom?’
‘No, no. You’re not to worry about me. I’m fine, really.’
On the screen, Drew looked sceptical.
‘I’ve been invited to have Christmas lunch with a friend.’
‘Have fun.’ He blew her a kiss and she returned it.
‘Happy Christmas, darling.’
‘You too, Mom. Love you.’ The screen went blank.
She sat in her room quietly, tears still prickling behind her eyes. That would definitely be her new year’s resolution, to see more of her boys.
Picking up her handbag and slipping on her coat, she left her room and caught the elevator down to the Long Gallery to wait.
She’d had a lovely dinner with Martin last night. True to her word, they’d ordered club sandwiches served in her suite, and it had been so nice. Despite her underlying sadness, they’d laughed so much together. He was very good company – funny and sharp-witted – and she wondered why it had taken her so long to realise that. He was an old-fashioned gentleman too, the type who opened doors and stood up until you were seated. Due to being a policeman and then doing a job that involved driving, he’d chosen not to drink alcohol either. It had been a refreshing change to eat dinner with someone who was still coherent by the end of it.