Page 16 of The Village Christmas Party

NINE

The room is decked out with every Christmas decoration you can think of, including a huge tree at the entrance of the hall, hung with striped candy canes and gingerbread men. Tables are set out with slabs of gingerbread for the houses, alongside an assortment of decoration pens and sweets. At the far end of the hall a table is laden with mince pies and nibbles, along with mini bottles of Prosecco and non-alcohol versions.

Audrey, Gemma, and I take a seat at a long table, and say hi to the other people, all women. We seem to be the last to arrive, and a second later Jo makes the introductions with a microphone.

‘Good evening, everyone, and thank you all for coming. I hope you have brought your purses, oh and wallets’ – she smiles towards a table with two older guys sitting with ladies of a similar age –‘as I will be walking around with raffle tickets shortly,’ she announces, waving a book of pink tickets.

She gestures to several hampers on the wooden stage behind her that include a toy hamper as well as smaller prizes of chocolates and toiletries. ‘So have fun and I will be announcing the winner in a couple of hours’ time.’

I glance around the room, and on a table a few yards away I notice a familiar face, but not before Gemma does.

‘Oh my goodness, it’s the guy from the shop,’ she says, nudging me. ‘Three o’clock from us, don’t look now.’

‘I’ve already noticed,’ I tell her as I snap off the tip of a green icing pen, ready to channel my inner van Gogh.

It’s hard not to notice him really, over six feet tall, that dark slightly curly hair, dark-green eyes, and effortlessly sexy style. Dammit, do I really think that?

‘I wonder who he’s with?’ Gemma says, scanning the table that has an empty seat next to him. Suddenly, a little girl appears from under the table waving an icing pen triumphantly, as her father smiles.

‘Ah, he’s brought his daughter here, how sweet,’ Gemma says. ‘I wonder if one of those women is his wife?’ she asks, looking over.

‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ I tell her, but can’t help wondering if he has brought his daughter along for the evening alone. Not that that means anything. He might have brought his daughter out so her mum can wrap some presents. In fact, why do I even care?

Eyeing the selection of sweet accessories in front of us, I soon set to work creating my storybook house, in between taking slurps of drinks and chatting to the other women. Christmas songs are playing making me feel so Christmassy as I deftly create some green windows with an icing pen, before moving on to the roof, carefully using a red pen to give it a brick effect. Adorning it with jellies and mini candy canes, I’m rather proud of my effort so far, although it seems I am surrounded by a lot of very talented ladies, as compared to their efforts my house looks pretty basic. I don’t mind though, this evening is all about getting in the festive spirit and I am happily singing along to the festive tunes and really enjoying myself.

‘I’m going to grab a snack,’ I say, getting to my feet and heading for the buffet table.

‘I’ll join you,’ says Audrey, who has already begun creating the neatest, most beautiful roof of her house.

‘I just wanted to thank you for asking me to join you,’ she says as she piles some pretzels, and a slice of Christmas cake onto her plate. ‘I’m really enjoying it here, everyone is so friendly, and the lady sat next to me actually lives in the next street. I’d never even noticed her before.’

‘Really? Well there you go, you have made a new friend already.’ I smile.

I grab a non-alcohol glass of Freixenet, and as I turn around, not looking where I am going, I literally bump into the hot shop guy, and my full glass of Prosecco lands all over his trousers.

‘Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry.’ I cover my hand with my mouth as I hear a giggle from his daughter.

I quickly grab some napkins from the buffet table and hand them to him.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he says, in a delicious Irish lilt. ‘Although it’s a good job it didn’t go over my jumper or I might have been electrocuted.’ He raises an eyebrow.

‘Electrocuted?’ I ask, puzzled, as he dabs at his trousers.

‘Daddy’s jumper lights up. Look.’

The cute little girl wearing a white fluffy jumper, black leggings, and shiny black boots, presses the button on his jumper, and an array of coloured fairy lights flash across a Christmas tree.

‘That’s quite something,’ I say, listening to the little girl’s adorable laughter. ‘And I really am sorry. I must get back,’ I say, before returning to my table feeling completely mortified.

‘Did I see you chatting to hot shop guy?’ asks Gemma open-mouthed when I return, plonking the plate of snacks down.

‘Assaulting him more like.’ I tell her about dousing him in Prosecco and she bursts out laughing.

‘And of all the places. He looked like he had wet himself.’ I cover my face with my hands.

‘Oh, Lauren, it was an accident. I’m sure he isn’t bothered,’ says Gemma, giggling.

‘I’m not so sure, he never exactly laughed about it,’ I say, recalling his serious expression, despite him telling me not to worry about it. Then again, he was happy to show me the flashing lights on his jumper, I guess, so he can’t have been too mad after all.

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