Page 11 of Tis the Season
‘I think we know where this is going,’ Erin said.
‘But then her husband got secretive,’ Joyce carried on. ‘Possessive of his mobile phone, sneaking off into another room when it rang, you get the gist. After that, he started picking fights over the simplest of things.’
‘Textbook,’ Erin replied. ‘I bet he smartened himself up as well.’
Joyce let out a dry laugh. ‘Only when he went out, because heaven forbid he put effort in for his wife.’
Looking like she’d stepped in something horrible, Erin pursed her lips.
‘Then weird things started to happen,’ Joyce continued. ‘His taste in music changed, stuff like that. Gloria hadn’t heard of half the bands he was listening to. She had her suspicions, naturally. But whenever she raised them, he told her she was imagining things and tried to make her feel bad for thinking that way.’
My heart went out to Gloria. ‘So what happened in the end?’
‘Six months later he left her for his secretary.’ Joyce threw her hands in the air. ‘Turns out Gloria was right all along.’
My gaze flitted from Joyce to Erin and back again. Taking in their knowing expressions, I couldn’t believe they thought I was in the same position. ‘But apart from working late, Gideon isn’t doing any of that.’
‘And he might never,’ Joyce said. ‘But at least thanks to women like Gloria you know what signs to look out for.’ She folded her arms across her chest.
‘And if my plan doesn’t work,’ Erin said, indicating my shopping bags. ‘I suggest you open your eyes.’
CHAPTER5
‘And there you have it. The perfect chignon in five easy steps.’ The YouTube vlogger tilted her head, offering me and the rest of her online audience an equally perfect smile.
I wasn’t impressed. With her brilliant white teeth and flawless make-up, she could have given herself a buzz cut, and she’d have still looked good.
The vlogger panned her camera around to show off her sophisticated updo. Combining sexy bedhead with a polished French twist, she’d done what she’d set out to do and produced a style that worked fromeveryday hair through to special occasion.
I sighed, knowing it didn’t take a genius to see that I had not.
I picked up a hand mirror and held it at the back of my head. Using it to assess my efforts in the dressing table, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead of creating a classically loose knot, my chignon lacked the intended carefree volume; it resembled a giant inedible bun. Rather than the two or three bobby pins I was supposed to need, my updo had its own scaffolding tower, and as far as romantic wisps were concerned, after half a can of hairspray they were just wishful thinking. Mimicking the vlogger, I, too, angled my head to one side. ‘Five easy steps, I don’t think so.’ She clearly hadn’t accounted for thewash and leavecrew. People like me who had a favourite hair bobble.
Telling myself I’d never make a hairdresser and should stick to selling wool, I swiped the vlogger’s face off the screen and shut down the app completely. I pulled my fancy knickers out from between my bum cheeks, with no choice but to hope they and the matching plunge bra worked their magic and kept Gideon’s gaze from straying too far upwards.
I stuffed my phone into my dressing gown pocket and leaving the mirror behind, made my way downstairs trusting I’d done a better job of dinner.
Pausing in the lounge, I breathed in the woody scent of the humongous Douglas fir that filled the window. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d been tempted to cover its branches in a mass of baubles and tinsel, but giggling at thoughts of the evening ahead, I told myself the delay was worth it. Gideon and I were about to enjoy our first date since he reneged and like Erin said, what could be more romantic than chatting over an intimate meal, putting on some Christmas tunes and decorating a Christmas tree? Romance was definitely in the air.
In the kitchen, I smiled at the laid table. The vintage holly-patterned crockery set I’d inherited from Gran sat in readiness on a crisp white tablecloth. Festive blooms in plum and burgundy sprang from a little coppery vase – stems shortened to ensure Gideon and I could see each other – and candles, in gold decorative holders, waited to be lit. ‘Perfect,’ I said. The whole ensemble screamedl’amour.
Turning my attention to the oven, I checked the delights within. I frowned. While my mouth drooled at the liquorice-like aroma emanating from the tarragon-infused carrot, mushroom, and hazelnut tart, my eyes struggled with what they saw. Just like my hair, my dish looked nothing like how it was supposed to. ‘Remember, it’s all in the tasting,’ I said, refusing to be disheartened.
It was not my usual fare: I’d have been happy chucking something into the air fryer, but that night I was taking Erin’s advice and going all out. Life had been all work and no play for Gideon for far too long and I was determined to show him what he’d been missing. His only job was to pick up the wine.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and pulling it out, I paused, tempted to ignore Erin’s incoming video call. I knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself. In discussing the best way to approach my date night, she’d already suggested I was a three-bedroomed semi that needed a bit of a facelift, and Gideon was a prospective buyer. As appreciative as I was for her help, that wasn’t quite the vibe I was aiming for. On a personal level, Erin had no time for matters of the heart, although while she’d never admit it, I suspected that was because hers had been broken.
I looked around the room again and knowing none of my efforts would have come to fruition were it not for Erin, I sighed. Feeling guilty, I answered her call.
Erin’s jaw dropped and she stared at me, agog. ‘Blooming heck, it’s Mrs Trunchbull.’
I put a hand up to my hair. ‘I was trying something new like you suggested.’
‘Well don’t do it again. It looks awful.’
‘Thank you very much!’ I let out a laugh. ‘Someone’s in a good mood.’
Erin’s shoulders dropped. ‘I’m sorry. Ignore me. I’ve just come out of a long and somewhat infuriating meeting. I’m starving and you know what I’m like when I’m hangry.’
