Page 45 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Okay, change of plan,’ Kian tells the children. ‘Maybe just have one sandwich and then we’ll go outside to the bouncy castle and?—’

He barely has time to get the words out of his mouth when there is a chorus of ‘yay’, before the children jump up from their chairs and stampede towards the outside area, almost pushing me and Kian up against each other as they run past.

‘That was good advice,’ he says, standing so close to me I can take in his scent and my heart rate soars. Both of us just stand there for a moment, before I break away and follow the children.

‘I kind of forget what children are like sometimes,’ he says as we reach the outside area.

The children’s excitement reaches fever pitch as they take in the scene in front of them, as disco music begins to fill the space outside. I can’t resist slipping my shoes off and climbing inside. I listen to the squeals of joy from the children at the sight of the colour-changing sky inside the castle, dotted with swirling stars.

As I step back outside, Kian realises that none of the children are wearing coats and makes a vain attempt at getting them back inside.

‘I guess it’s an undercover castle,’ I reassure him. ‘And all that bouncing around will have them overheating if they are wearing coats, and we don’t want that, do we?’

‘Yes, you’re right.’ Kian smiles. ‘What would I do without you?’ His green eyes meet mine and I feel a warm glow inside again.

‘I dread to think,’ I tease. ‘Maybe you would have to deal with a load of kids stuffing their faces, then vomiting in the bouncy castle,’ I say and he pulls a face.

‘That would be awful.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘I would never get my deposit back if that happened.’ He grins.

‘Do you want me to stay out here for a bit?’ I ask him, not wanting to move and enjoying standing next to him far too much, before giving myself a shake. I am here for the pensioners’ party. I also remind myself that maybe Kian was staring over at Gemma on the gingerbread evening. I am simply the womanwho has double booked the hall for a party, so I guess he has to be polite. It’s just a shame he is so good-looking.

‘I think I’ll be grand, they seem to be having a right old time. Although maybe, if I need to, can I give you a shout?’ he adds.

‘Of course,’ I tell him, and when he places his hand on my arm and thanks me, annoyingly there go those zingy feelings again and I wonder if he feels it too?

I think about the men I have come across over the last few months, in the pub, at Bentham’s, or just generally out and about and it occurs to me that no one has really caught my eye recently. It’s not that I am particularly picky, but men haven’t even been on my radar as I was so bruised by my last relationship, I decided I would be better off on my own. And where do you meet men these days? I know lots of couples meet online, but it’s not something I have really thought about. Perhaps that’s after listening to a woman at work who has experienced one online dating disaster after another. Usually because some people like to use profile pictures that are not exactly representative of how they look. When she met up with Guy from Kendal, he told her he had forgotten to update his profile picture, which she said must have been at least ten years out of date if not more, as he had hair in his profile picture.

I’m preparing the desserts in the kitchen and, half an hour later, I hear the sound of children so it seems Kian has managed just fine on his own. A bunch of rosy-cheeked children have returned to the table and are ravenously tucking into food as if they have never been fed.

‘Are those children having a party?’ asks Flora as I am about to ask everyone what they would like for pudding.

I really must talk to her daughter, much as I don’t want to. But Flora’s memory is a cause for concern, so I think it only right to mention what has happened today.

‘They are. See the little girl in the blue dress.’ I point out Bella. ‘It’s her birthday.’

‘Oh, it’s nice having a birthday.’ Flora smiles before telling me she would love some Christmas pudding. Bella catches my eye then and waves over and Flora waves too.

‘I think it’s my birthday in June. The sun usually shines then,’ Flora tells me. ‘Although June seems rather a long way off.’

‘Well, that lunch was simply wonderful,’ says Eileen, pushing her dessert away from her having enjoyed a nice slice of red velvet cake. She then taps a spoon against her glass.

‘If I could just have your attention for a bit,’ she asks the assembled pensioners. ‘I am sure you would all like to join me in thanking Lauren and all of the volunteers for making today possible,’ she says. ‘Every year we are lucky to come together with friends old and new, and celebrate Christmas time. So thank you all.’ Everyone duly raises their glass in a toast, before bursting into thunderous applause.

‘Oh, I agree, it was the best meal I’ve had in a long time,’ says Gerald. ‘You can’t beat a good roast. I used to love a decent curry too but I can’t do that without a side order of Gaviscon these days,’ he says and everyone laughs and empathises.

After coffee and mince pies the group are sat around chatting at the table. Sue is playing a variety of golden oldies on vinyl and Gerald, as promised, is whizzing Eileen around the dance floor. She looks beautiful in her grey dress, the sequins on the neckline sparkling as they catch the light. Her husband has been gone for two years and I guess she must feel lonely, so it’s nice to see her looking so happy. She throws her head back and laughs at something Gerald has said and I feel proud that she has this opportunity to dress up and have a dance with a handsome man.I can’t help wondering when I might have the chance to do the same.

Having pulled Christmas crackers earlier, the rest of the pensioners are wearing party hats and some are now also dancing to the music. Others are happy to sit and chat, especially those who are not so great on their feet.

‘Oh, isn’t this wonderful,’ I say to Kian.

‘It’s great to see,’ he agrees. ‘I hope I have someone like you to look after me in my old age,’ he says, as Sue and Barry are impressing everyone with a vigorous jive.

‘Actually, sorry, that came out wrong. I was just thinking how anyone would be lucky to have you watching out for them, is what I meant.’ He looks slightly embarrassed.

‘Don’t worry, I know what you mean. I guess we all want to feel safe and needed as we get older.’

‘Can the old people play musical chairs with us later?’ asks Bella, who is tucking into a sausage roll and I feel slightly faint at the thought of an elderly person racing to find an empty chair. On a wooden floor. Maybe not racing exactly but I think musical chairs is a dangerous game given the age demographic.

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