huffy sigh. ‘You haven’t spoken to Mum, have you?’
‘No.’ Nothing new there. My unsociable working hours didn’t fit with her and Dad’s nine to seven schedule.
She bit her lip before blurting out with great indignation. ‘They’re going away for Christmas.’ Around her mouth a few tiny lines that I’d never noticed before tightened.
‘Really? Where?’
‘Apparently,’ she stiffened. ‘They’re going on a cruise.’
I shrugged.
‘To Scandinavia.’
‘Oh.’ It was a bit of a surprise but it would save me the scramble to catch the last train from Kings Cross wedged up against over-exuberant drunks in a corridor and then having to make the journey back in two days’ time to get back to work. It never seemed fair to book holiday at Christmas when other people in the department had young children and families.
‘I don’t know why they’ve suddenly decided to go on a cruise now.’ Christelle’s voice wobbled.
‘Why not? We’re not children anymore.’
‘But it’s a family time. And we always go home.’
‘Well maybe this year it’s time to do something different.’ I shrugged, ignoring the bleak look on her face. ‘Break the mould. See it as an opportunity.’
‘An opportunity for what?’
‘There’s loads going on in London, carol concerts, ice skating, shows.’
‘Yes, but not on Christmas Day.’
‘There is.’
Oh, God, now I had no excuse not to go with Felix to visit his mother on Christmas Day. ‘Loads of things still happen, you know.’
Her mouth dipped down in scepticism.
‘Jeanie, my boss, often spends Christmas on her own. She’s never short of things to do. Last year she went on a walking tour around the city. The year before she volunteered for Crisis and the year before that she went to watch the swimmers in the Peter Pan Cup race on the Serpentine. It’s only one day. You could just spend the day watching films.’
A pang of guilt danced in and out of my conscience. Was she worried about being on her own? I hadn’t given it that much thought. As I said, Christmas was still ages away.
‘Yes, but why don’t they want to have Christmas with us? It’s not like them. Don’t you think it’s odd?’
‘No.’
She pursed her mouth. ‘That’s so typical of you Tilly, you ignore the things you don’t want to see.’
‘No I don’t.’
‘You do, you’ve always done it. Making out that Mum and Dad are so against your career.’
‘They are.’ I folded my arms, I really didn’t want to get into this now. It was old history and nothing was going to change.
‘No, they just wanted you to—’
‘Whatever. Going home at Christmas is a hassle anyway. The trains are always packed and we’re busy at work.’
‘What will you do instead?’
‘Work.’
‘On Christmas Day?’
‘No, but we’ll probably go to Felix’s mum and I’ll come back that evening because I’m working on Boxing Day.’
‘I guess I could have lunch with some friends, but it won’t be the same,’ she sighed, ‘although Mum has said she’ll do lunch with all the trimmings before Christmas. We can go up together. If I drive up, we won’t have to worry about carrying all the presents.’ She brightened. ‘Talking of which, I was thinking about a nice Estée Lauder skin set for Mum, they’ve got some lovely gift packs this year.’
‘I’ll be work–’ Christelle had never done puppy dog eyes in her life. She worked on pure logic but there was a shadow of sadness about her and a sudden blinking that made me pause and say, ‘That’s probably a good idea.’
‘We could leave late on Friday, miss the traffic and then we’d have the whole of Saturday. I could pick you up straight from work. What time do you finish?’
‘Depends on the production but around ten-thirty, eleven.’
She smiled and straightened up, losing the sad uncharacteristic droop. ‘I’m glad that’s all sorted. Now, I was thinking a nice cashmere sweater for Dad and he’s been wittering on about learning coding, so a colleague at work recommended a book for him. Oh…’ She looked down at her phone which had begun to ring, ‘I need to take this. Will you excuse me?’
‘Yeah. It’s fine.’ Her formality drove me nuts. I was her bloody sister for God’s sake, not an effing client. She scooped up her phone and disappeared out of the door, where I watched her pace with considered steps backwards and forwards through the window.
I picked up my Kindle Fire that I never went anywhere without and luckily it seemed to be the one thing that evaded my negative electrical force-field. My idea of hell was not having a book to read. I’m not sure what made me do it, but I logged onto the free Wi-Fi to check my emails and nearly dropped it when I saw I’d got a response to my earlier one.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Loo Rolls
Dear Matilde
The sequel is good but if you want something of a similar ilk, how about High Fidelity by Nick Hornby. It’s about a man who’s crap at relationships too.
Regards
R
P.S. - Would that be that same parallel universe in which Arsenal can play?
It made me smile and by the time Christelle reappeared I’d downloaded High Fidelity.
‘Sorry about that. A client I’ve been trying to get hold of for a few days.’ Any hint of sadness was vanquished as back-in-business Christelle swept back to the fore.
‘OK, coding book and sweater for Dad, skin care set for Mum. Do you want me to get them and you can pay me back?’
‘I hate to be mean but could we perhaps go lamb’s wool rather than cashmere on the sweater for Dad? And set a budget.’
‘Don’t worry, if you can’t afford it now, you pay me back later when you can.’
‘I can afford it.’
Just because her income bracket outstripped mine by several thousand a month didn’t mean she should contribute more. Pride stopped me saying that things were a bit tight this month because Felix still owed
