to really enjoy that. Maybe if—’
I held up a hand to stop her. ‘I haven’t had time to go to the Breakfast Club recently because of the job at Fox’s. I don’t know what’ll happen when it’s over, but I’ll figure it out. It’s not ideal and I hate the pointy ears, but it’s a job. As for my life, I’m happy the way I am, Mum. So please, stop worrying about me for five seconds.’
I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m fine, really. I know you think I’m an emotional wreck who stays in my cottage all day crying over Jamie, but I promise you I’m not.’
Mum smiled and patted my hand. ‘I’d just like to see you get out there a bit more, that’s all. Why don’t you at least think about helping out with the pantomime? You might not have to go on the stage; maybe they need people backstage to help with the make-up or costume changes?’
Realising I wouldn’t get any peace unless I said yes, I agreed to give it some thought. I had no intention of actually joining Christabel’s team of misfits, but promising to give it consideration was good enough for Mum. Luckily, before she could conscript me into any more of her hare-brained schemes, my phone rang.
‘Hello?’ I said.
‘Hi, Alice, it’s Gary from Fox’s. You couldn’t pick up an extra shift at the grotto today could you? Only one of our other elves phoned in sick.’
I felt my stomach drop to my shoes. The last thing I wanted to do was put on my garish outfit, pointy ears and massive shoes, and pretend to love Christmas on what should have been my day off. However, an out-of-work actress had to do what an out-of-work actress had to do.
I blew air out of my cheeks, screwed my eyes shut and reluctantly agreed. ‘No problem. When do you need me to come in?’
‘As soon as possible – we’re swamped today. Thanks, you’re the best!’
Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to Lapland I go…
*
An hour later, I found myself in the heart of Fox’s department store, tinkling shoes and all. There were two extra-rosy pops of colour on my cheeks and a fake smile plastered to my face as I welcomed children to Santa’s grotto and wished them a merry Christmas.
Mum’s words rang in my ears: you need to get your life back, Alice; it’s time to start living again. My heart sank as I realised I didn’t know where to begin with getting my life back. Loneliness had become a way of life, a comfort blanket I’d wrapped myself in, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to unravel it. Still, it was impossible not to notice all the happy couples milling round the department store, picking out presents for their nearest and dearest, and not feel a pang of remorse. Once upon a time, that had been me. I’d had someone to share my life with, to hold my hand and laugh with me.
Now here I was, all alone. If the time ever came that I met someone else, would I even know how to be with them? I was so used to being on my own that I’d all but forgotten what being part of a couple was like.
A hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. It was Gary, the permanently harassed-looking manager of Fox’s department store. A thin film of sweat had formed on his brow already and he looked like he needed a good cup of tea and some Christmas cookies.
‘Alice, can I ask a favour?’ He was breathless and sounded like he’d just finished doing ten marathons back-to-back. ‘I’ve just had a look in the grotto and Frank’s running a bit low on presents. There are some more upstairs in my office; would you mind nipping up and getting some?’
‘Sure,’ I said with a smile.
I headed towards his office, glad of the opportunity to get off the shop floor for even a few minutes. As I walked, customers turned their heads to follow the sound of my jingling shoes.
‘Bloody things,’ I muttered. As a group of teenagers sniggered and pointed at me, I could’ve cheerfully shoved them where the sun didn’t shine.
Gary’s office was located up a set of metal steps at the back of the store. Its big glass windows allowed him to be king of all he surveyed, whilst also keeping him at a safe distance from the staff. Everybody knew he was afraid of them and would give into even the craziest demands. It felt a little surreal being in the manager’s office, like that somehow made me boss of the massive department store I’d found myself working in.
I jumped a little when I saw Mr Fox, the store’s owner, occupying the huge black leather executive chair. It was so unusual to see his tall, wiry frame around the shop; he hardly ever visited and when he did, it usually meant something bad was about to happen. He had his phone clamped to his ear and his face was set into a dark scowl. The conversation clearly wasn’t going well. I wanted to take a step forward and announce myself, but I didn’t want to intrude on his private phone call.
‘Ethan, when are you going to learn to…? This is your inheritance we’re talking about here; you need to start taking it seriously instead of prancing around with your head in the clouds… I won’t tell you again… Damn!’
Mr Fox hung up and slammed his mobile down on the table, letting out a grunt of frustration and a stream of expletives. As he blew air out from his cheeks, he swung the chair round in my direction and almost jumped out of his skin.
‘Sorry, I-I didn’t realise anyone was here.’ Two pops of colour bloomed on his cheeks and he flashed me a sheepish grin. ‘Can I help you with anything?’
I froze. My mouth moved up and down, making the shapes of words I wanted to say, but no sound came out. The longer it took for me to articulate myself, the redder my face became.
‘Um…I-I just came in to get some more presents for the grotto downstairs. A-are they over here?’ I gestured to some cardboard boxes in the corner.
‘Yes, yes, take as many as you like.’ Mr Fox waved a hand and picked up his mobile again. ‘Sorry…got to return this phone call…’
His voice drifted off as he dialled a number and waited for the person on the other end to answer. I heaved one box into my arms and beat as hasty a retreat as I could. The box weighed a ton; they’d obviously splashed the cash on the kids’ Christmas gifts.
‘Hello?’ I heard him say as I nudged the office door open with my foot. ‘Oh, Ethan’s in a meeting is he? Well, tell him to give his father a ring when he’s out of his meeting. If he can spare a few minutes, that is!’
I winced. Ethan was in some pretty hot water!
*
Making my way back downstairs was a dangerous business. I almost toppled over twice, thanks to the weight of the box. I had half a mind to ask Gary for danger money.
‘Here are some more presents for the kids,’ I said, heaving the box behind Frank’s red velvet throne. ‘Just so you don’t run out.’
‘Oh great,’ he slurred, ‘more crap to give to the ungrateful little shits!’
I suppressed a smile and pursed my lips. Luckily, we were experiencing a lull in visitors to the grotto, so nobody was around to hear him or see him with his beard pulled down.
I screwed my nose up as the acrid tang of stale sweat and alcohol stung my nostrils. ‘Are
