Page 5 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
Two
St Nicholas – he’s the Patron Saint of Christmas, isn’t he? I try and remember. Or is it St Nicholas that’s supposed to be Santa Claus?
I shake my head.
Whichever it is, what are the chances that that boat should be passing me right at this very moment, especially after what that man just told me and what it says in the newspaper advert?
I think a bit more.
‘Come on, Elle,’ I say sharply, surprising a couple of pigeons happily pecking away on the remains of a mince pie. ‘What does it matter whether it means something or if it’s simply a coincidence? If this ad is genuine, this is a job you can do standing on your head, and more importantly, it will be a roof over that same head until you can find something better. Have some courage for once in your life. You can do this!’
Suitably buoyed up I check the date on the newspaper, and I’m pleased to see it’s today’s issue.Wait, wasn’t that also the closing date for applications?
I quickly read the advert again and look for a telephone number, but there’s only an address.
I pull a compact from my bag and try to look at as much of myself as I can in the tiny mirror. I’ve looked better. Under my long winter coat I’m wearing a baggy wool jumper and tight black jeans. There are dark circles under my eyes caused by too many sleepless nights, and my face looks pale and drawn from worry. But it will have to do. A bit of make-up will help, and luckily my coat will cover most of my clothes. I don’t have time to go home and change into something smarter.
Home.It won’t be for much longer.
I simply can’t continue living there – even though Owen wants me to. I shake my head. The nerve of him, asking me to stay after what he’s done. He even tried to make out in some way it was my fault! I have to get away from this toxic relationship once and for all, and I have to do it now. I just hope the job hasn’t been taken already – they must have been advertising it a while if the closing date is today.
While the pigeons keep a beady eye on me, I quickly brush my long dark hair and tie it into a loose ponytail. Then I brush on some mascara and a smudge of lip gloss, adding a little to my cheeks as well to give them some colour. ‘Right, I guess you’ll do,’ I say as I check myself again in the mirror. But as I snap the compact shut, a thought suddenly occurs to me. When did I start disliking the way I looked so much? Not long after I met Owen, I now realise. God, that man has a lot to answer for.
After a few minutes of attempting to hail a taxi, I almost give up.Maybe it’s just not meant to be, I think, almost allowing myself to slide slowly down the same easy path I’ve been on for far too long.No, you’re not taking the easy option this time, Elle! Have courage.I remember the man’s words.You’re going to find this Mistletoe Square and you’re going to get this job!
I consider taking the Tube, but decide by the time I’ve got down into the station and waited for a train, it will probably be just as fast to walk. Plus, it will save me money. If this job doesn’t happen, I don’t know how long I might be out of work. I need to save pennies where I can.
I set off towards Bloomsbury. I’m desperate to hurry, but I don’t want to arrive at the house all hot and sweaty in my big winter coat and fur-lined boots, so I try and walk at a brisk but steady pace. As I walk along the busy London streets, many of them decorated for the festive season with twinkly lights and the odd Christmas tree, I pass theatres advertising the latest West End shows, brand-name coffee shops offering their latest festive drinks in the obligatory Christmassy cup, and well-known chain stores and independent shops, with their windows full of shiny baubles, colourful lights and the perfect gifts for friends and family.
The traffic, as always, is congested, and I often find myself moving faster on foot than the many red buses, black cabs, delivery vans and motorbikes all queued up at junctions and traffic lights.
Now, where is this square?I look again at my phone and the route Google Maps has plotted for me. I’m not sure I’ve heard of aMistletoeSquare before.
And not for the first time since I left Waterloo Bridge, I begin to doubt the validity of the advert. That guy with the briefcase had been very odd.Perhaps I should be a little more wary about this…
My phone rings in my hand, and I’m surprised to see it’s Kate, one of my ex-colleagues from the magazine.
‘Elle!’ Kate says brightly. ‘Can’t chat long, I’m afraid, have a really tight deadline. But I’ve just seen an ad in theTelegraphand it sounds perfect for you.’
She then reads the exact same advert as the one I’ve torn from the copy ofThe Timesthe man had left on the bench.
‘What do you think?’ she asks eagerly. ‘Sounds a bit odd, but it might be something?’
‘I’m actually on my way there at this very moment,’ I tell her. ‘I saw the advert a little while ago.’
‘Are you? Wow, amazing! Let me know how you go? And … listen, it was bloody awful what happened. Everyone here is still in a state of shock about Liam and Owen.’
‘Yes, well … ’
‘About time you saw that ex of yours for what he really is, though. We’ve all been saying you need to stand up to Owen for ages. You go, girl – that’s what I say. Girl power and all that!’
‘Thanks.’
‘And Liam … well I never saw that coming. But he’s kept a low profile here since you left, I can tell you. I don’t think he dare show his face!’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Anyway, got to go. Chin up, lovely! Wishing you lots of luck with that job! Speak soon, yah?’
