‘Yeah, of course they do! They have to, and you don’t often hear of tourists getting chewed up or trampled to death, do you?’
‘Well no, not often but there was that alligator—’
‘That was in the swamps, and that drunken twat decided to use it as a paddleboard. I don’t think your mum will be trying anything like that, will she?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘They’ll be far more careful than Will Armstrong, anyway; he probably wouldn’t know a risk assessment if he fell over one.’ Oh God, I can’t get that stupid man out of my head. All roads lead to Will. Literally. Sam looks alarmed – even though she doesn’t know the chaos that’s going around in my head at the moment. Honestly, I’d rather be in Kenya being trampled by wildebeest, right now.
My face must have done something it wasn’t supposed to, because her attention zooms in on me.
‘Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you had the day off?’
‘I just thought I’d check you were okay.’ Maybe popping into work, on the pretence of checking everything was okay, was a mistake. But the truth of the matter is I couldn’t face being at home on my own today. I now have no Callum, and no Christmas. ‘And I need to stalk Will Armstrong.’
‘You’ve already googled him.’ Sam grins. ‘You just want to stare at that photo don’t you? Go on, admit it, you think he’s cute.’
‘It doesn’t matter how cute he is—’
‘Ha! I knew you did!’
‘This is business, I need to google him better. The Wi-Fi is better here than at home, and,’ I pull out my chair and do a quick spin on it, cracking my knuckles as I go to show I mean business, ‘I also need to book my Christmas break.’
‘Christmas break?’ Sam is frowning and has stopped her attempts to unbook her mother’s wildlife trip. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Canada.’ I watch while it sinks in. ‘To see Will Armstrong.’
‘But I thought . . .’
‘There’s been a change of plan.’
‘Christmas! Wow, you’re going for actual Christmas with Lynn? Is that what she suggested when you told her about what’s been going on? Gosh, the pair of you together will soon sort him out.’ Sam claps her hands, looking so happy it seems a shame to put a downer on things.
‘Not the pair of us, just me.’ I stop my googling and look at Sam. I think it might be time to mention the cakes, and Ralph. And the business. Which is the really awkward one. I mean, we’re mates, we work together and in the new year it could all turn a bit weird if I’ve kind of become her boss, and don’t do this properly.
‘And Callum?’
‘No, not Callum. Callum and his buttock-clenching gladioli have gone.’
‘Buttock clenching?’
‘Later. But it was a good job he hadn’t decided to say it with roses.’ Thorns do not bear thinking about.
‘So why are you going to Canada for Christmas, then? I don’t get it.’
Nor do I.
‘Tell.’
‘Pass the Hobnobs first, my stomach needs reminding what food should taste like. Lynn’s cakes were a bit . . .’ I pull a face and rub my stomach, and Sam laughs. ‘Lemon curd and marmalade.’
‘They sound okay; my mum does lemon curd tarts, sometimes.’
‘Lemon curd and marmalade together.’
‘I think you need a Jaffa cake.’
Sam plunders the supplies, then she watches intently as I nibble the chocolate off, then remove the sponge, and finally savour the orange bit.
‘Wow, I needed that.’ This could be the closest I get to orgasm for a while. I take another. Sam can’t bear the suspense and snatches the box away.
‘So, what was so urgent? She’s okay is she? Not ill or . . .’
‘She’s fine. More than fine.’
‘Oh God, she didn’t find out about that nasty email you sent to Shooting Star?’ She clasps her hand to her mouth.
I shake my head. ‘Not quite.’
‘What do you mean, not quite? Tell me, woman!’
I haven’t quite worked out how I feel about this yet, which is why I suppose I’ve been reluctant to say it. Because once it’s out there, then there’s no going back. ‘Aunt Lynn has sprung a surprise. She’s got to go to Australia to see her old mate Ralph.’
‘But . . .’
‘He’s dying. Might not last until the new year.’
‘Oh.’
We both take a moment, and another Jaffa cake.
‘So why aren’t you going to Australia? I mean, Australia’s nice. You could have Christmas on the beach!’
‘I don’t want to be a gooseberry, or kiwi, and she needs to be on her own with him. So, I said I was going to see Mr Brain-freeze Will Armstrong. I kind of jumped in without thinking about it, so she wouldn’t feel bad.’
‘Aw, that’s so nice.’
‘Look out world, Saint Sarah is coming.’
‘Well,’ there’s a heavy undertone of doubt, ‘you did want to go, I suppose. But, not on your own, not at Christmas.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘I know! I can come!’
‘You’ve got Jake and your family. And I’ll be fine, Sam.’
‘But, on your own?’
‘I’ll meet people, you know I’m good at that. And I am working, remember?’
She stares at me. ‘But for actual Christmas?’ I nod. ‘And you deffo can’t take Callum?’
‘Nope, I dumped him last night.’
‘Ah, so that’s why your hair’s blue.’ She knows me well.
‘It might have a bearing.’
She raises an eyebrow and ploughs on. ‘But you can’t spend Christmas all on your own.’
‘Well, I won’t be completely alone. Mr Armstrong hasn’t frightened off all his guests – yet.’
‘You know what I mean. You’re not going with Lynn,
