Page 55 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Of course not.’ Mum smiles. ‘I always have time for Eileen.’

It turns out that Eileen has other plans for this evening, in the form of Gerald, who has invited her to his place for dinner.

‘He’s picking me up at seven,’ says Eileen. ‘Would you believe we are having a fondue evening? We got chatting at the party yesterday, and I mentioned how I used to love a good fondue party. Anyway, he called me this morning, having tracked a fondue kit down last night.’ She grins. ‘I think it’s a chocolate dipping thing really, for marshmallows, but near enough.’ She laughs.

‘That’s wonderful, Eileen. I hope you have a lovely evening. Gerald is a lovely bloke.’

I fill her in on both my parents staying with me for Christmas.

‘That’s the spirit of Christmas, having family around, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘Sounds like some of us oldies are having one of our best Christmases ever.’

Back inside, I keep thinking about my forthcoming date with Kian, whilst also wondering who the mystery woman was? Perhaps it was Bella’s aunt? When he’d said earlier that a family member was looking after Bella when he’d nipped to the shop, he never specified it was his parents. I decide I am overthinking things and try and put it out of my mind. He’s hardly likely to ask me out if there is someone else on the scene, surely?

I’m mulling this over when Gemma calls.

‘I’m just having five minutes outside with a secret cig,’ she tells me.

‘I thought you had quit?’ I say, surprised, having never seen her smoke when we have been together lately.

‘I have. Well, almost. I only have one very occasionally. Not enough to say yes when doctors ask me if I smoke.’ She giggles. ‘I’m playing hide and seek with two of my nephews. I’m around the corner near a row of garages. I’ll go back in a bit. So how is your day going?’

‘It’s going great. We’ve done the usual, eaten far too much. Mum and Dad are watchingDeck the Hallsfor the umpteenth time. I’ll be joining them in a minute.’

I long to tell Gemma about seeing Kian earlier, she always manages to say the right thing. But I decide against it.

‘And yours?’

‘It’s been a lot of fun actually. The kids are wearing me out though. For some reason, I seem to be the unpaid entertainment whenever we are all together,’ she whispers, determined not to be found just yet. ‘We’ve played Twister, pin the tail on the elf and now hide and seek, whilst everyone else is getting pissed,’ she moans. ‘Especially my gran, who insists she doesn’t drink, but is knocking back the sherry, “as it’s Christmas”.’ She giggles.

‘Well you could hardly expect your gran to play Twister,’ I say, thinking of the party at the community centre and her teasing me saying the old people might like it. ‘And it’s your fault you are nominated as children’s entertainer. You are far too much fun.’

‘True, that is. And I’ll miss them when they have gone, so I guess I should make the most of it.’

Gemma has made no secret of the fact that she would like to have children one day and I think she would make a wonderful mum.

‘Right, I’d better go. I can hear the boys shouting my name loudly, they might call out a search party if they can’t find me soon.’

‘And discover your dirty little secret.’ I laugh, thinking of her furtively smoking behind the garages.

‘Exactly. Speak to you soon. Bye.’

That evening, I make sure everywhere is spotless, even though Dad keeps telling me to sit down and relax, which I do eventually with a large glass of red wine.

Despite reassurances from Dad that Rose had gone to her sister’s, I messaged her anyway to wish her a merry Christmas and ask if she is okay, but she never replied. I wonder then whether things really are over between them, although, in all honesty, Dad doesn’t seem to be too upset, so perhaps their split really was a long time coming.

Just after eleven, Mum retires to bed, with Dad not far behind her. I realise then that I haven’t seen Tony since early this morning. He’s generally miaowing at the back door around nine, having been out all day. He’s always been more of a day cat, who goes to bed around the same time I do, although sometimes his routine changes.

I walk outside and call his name but there’s no sign of him. I put the contents of the inside bin into the large outdoor one, when he appears wrapping himself around my legs.

‘Oh, I see, you smelt the leftovers, did you? There’s some turkey left in the fridge if you want some.’

He miaows and I wonder if people would think I had gone mad, hearing me having a full-on conversation with a cat.

Back inside, after a slice of turkey, Tony curls up into his bed and I wonder what my life would be like without him. I also wonder vaguely whether or not Kian likes cats.

THIRTY-ONE

I wake early and glance at my phone. I can hardly believe it’s nine thirty!

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