Page 90 of Big Nick Energy
‘I want nothing to do with your organs. Trust me. Have a little faith.’ He looks at my face in the rearview mirror again and smiles. ‘Take the next left.’
I’m not sure what I expect when we turn into the drive, but the farm isn’t lit up the way it was when I’ve been here previously. ‘See? Closed,’ he says. ‘I think big Tesco is still open. We can find you a tree there. It might have to be a fake one though?’
However, in the distance I can see a light on in the buildings, the gates are open and there’s a familiar truck in the car park. I feel a shiver of excitement run through me to be here, near him. I know that truck. ‘It’s cool. I’m going to stop here. What’s your name again?’
‘Nikos.’
‘Of course it is,’ I say, laughing. He pulls a face. I wasn’t laughing at your name. Shit, I’d better leave a tip. I close the door, waving him off before standing there looking up at the sign on the farm, slowly wandering into the building where I can see lights. ‘Hello?’ I shout into the darkness. There’s no answer. This is when I realise it’s not Nick’s truck. It belongs to a cleaner or a brother. Maybe there’s really no one here at all and I’m stuck hoping Nikos might return to give me a lift back into town.
I wander over to the building with the light on but the door is locked. I knock on it and try to look through the window. Do they have security? Maybe dogs. God, this would not be a good way to go out. ‘NICK!’ I shout.
Right, this is awkward because I don’t think he’s actually here. I hear a noise. It’s the dogs, they’ve come for me. Or we’re also in the woods. Maybe it’s an urban wolf. I should have just called him, instead of coming down here to ambush him. But then I see another truck parked up by the gates. I walk over to peek inside the cabin but it’s empty, though the keys are in the ignition. Someone has to be here. In the back of the truck are thirty to forty Christmas trees all lying there, stacked, ready to leave. They’re not netted up. I run my hand over one of the branches, the needles still intact and waxy in my hands. Wait,why are the branches moving? I pause for a moment, waiting for whatever is going to come out and eat me, until I see a pair of yellow eyes watching me, mewing lightly.
‘Hi,’ I say. A black cat comes over and puts her head under my hand so I can stroke her. I sit up on the back of the truck and she climbs into my lap and I read the name tag on her red collar: Bonnie. I think I’ve heard about her. ‘Hey, Bonnie. I know your daddy.’ That sounded less wrong in my head. She suddenly jumps off my lap and burrows further into the trees. ‘Bonnie? Bonnie? You can’t go in there.’ These trees may be headed for a wood chipper, a bonfire, a bin. I turn from being perched on the end of the van and begin crawling in amongst the trees. ‘Bonnie? Please?’ I lift up branches, peering between them and wriggling under to try and see where she’s hiding. ‘It’s cold, honey. Let’s get you in the warm. I’m nice, I really am. Bonnie?’
I’m not really sure what happens next. But I hear the tailgate of the truck bang up into place and a noise that sounds like it’s being locked. Nick? I crawl to the end of the van and out from under the branches as quickly as I can, but I can only see his back as he heads to the cabin and climbs in. Are those ear defenders? Earphones? ‘NICK!’ I shout. Whoa. What is going on here? And then the engine starts and we’re off. Bonnie suddenly jumps out of the branches and leaps into my lap. Ring him. Call him. I have my phone in my hand but the truck suddenly jolts over a bump and I drop it. Shit. Bonnie, help me look for my phone. The cat looks at me as if I’m mad. ‘You’re not much help are you?’ She meows in reply, looking up at me with her big eyes as her fur starts to get dusted with snow.
THIRTY-EIGHT
I think back to the number of times I’ve watched an action film and someone jumps from a moving truck or car or train and I’ve thought,you know, it doesn’t look that hard. Jump and roll, right? Well, it’s not until you’re in a moving truck trying to keep hold of a terrified cat that you realise how hard it really is.
I look out the sides of the truck, and the traffic and the road are moving incredibly fast, and it’s not an entirely smooth journey. We’re getting tossed around like we’re at sea here. I mean, what if he’s taking us to the dump? Or it’s a long overnight drive to somewhere far away? I mean, he will stop eventually and maybe then I’ll have to think what to do. In the meantime, I am also on all fours in this thing clutching a cat and attempting to look for my phone. I knock at the back of the cabin again. How the hell do I explain this? Really? Maybe Nick was right. I am slightly ridiculous. This is all slightly ridiculous.
On the other hand, as this truck is open topped, it’s a lovely way to see London by night. Is that Hammersmith? I guess this could be worse? The snow, which has been looming for weeks, falls in light, magical drifts. I could be wearing a really awful coat. I pull my hat over my hair again. I sit back against the branches, letting Bonnie settle on my chest, and look up at thelights, the sky. I guess there could be worse ways to spend Christmas Eve. Hold up, that’s the Natural History Museum on the left. Yeah, I was there just a few weeks ago. That must mean Harrods is approaching. I lie back again. But as I look out, I realise I’m being watched by a whole row of people on a double-decker bus, who all turn their heads to look at me. I know how this looks. I’m either being kidnapped or a tramp. It’s kind of neither. A woman puts her thumb up at me. I do the same to signal that I’m alright. Someone takes a photo. Do I smile?
The truck starts up again and takes a sharp left. I have no idea where we are now but we must nearly be there, right? I look out of the side, hugging Bonnie the cat, and feel a sense of relief when the truck eventually rolls to a stop and the ignition halts. I watch as Nick’s door opens and he steps out. I see glimpses of his face, a green beanie on his head, wearing a thick checked jacket and jeans. I smile for a moment. I don’t think there is a way to explain what’s happened here, not at all. I see another man come towards him and greet him. Nick finally takes off his earphones and I realise now is not the time to call out to him.
‘Nick North?’ the man asks.
‘Yep, that’s me. Mr Douglas?’
‘Yes, I’m Tom – thank you. It means a lot that you’re doing this on Christmas Eve.’
‘No problem, they’re not wrapped but they’re all in good condition. Shame to let them go to waste.’
‘Do you do this every year?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, we put all the old trees on Facebook Marketplace and see who wants them. Saves us putting them in the chipper.’ And as soon as he says that, I shut my eyes tightly to think of a moment about five years ago when my nana answered an ad on Facebook and a handsome yet faceless man delivered her a ten-foot tree that I had to saw in the street so she could get it in her house. I spoke to that grumpy man. Maybe if we’re talking aboutthe universe and signs, maybe I should have listened to Nana all along. Even back then, she stood on those cobbles and tried to set us up. She said we’d make a good couple. She knew. I’m so distracted by these thoughts that I don’t hear the tailgate of the truck opening. And now Nick is standing there with a very distressed-looking man called Tom who thinks that I possibly come with the trees. I don’t.
He looks at Nick who does a double take to see me standing there. ‘Kay? What the hell? What are you doing? Is that my cat?’
The cat and I will be forever bonded by this trauma. She sits in my arms in the same way a feline would nestle in the arms of a Bond villain.
‘Funny story…’ I start to say, and then I try to descend off the end of that truck as majestically as possible whilst Nick offers me a hand. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, the cat jumps down and sits there as if ready to watch the impending drama. Oh, it’s coming. I push Nick on the chest with both hands. Given how tall he is, I am impressed that I have that much strength to make him topple a little. ‘Who drives with headphones on like that? I’ve been knocking at that cabin for most of the trip!’ Tom stands there, looking at both of us, and I turn to him. ‘Please, take your trees. If you see a phone in there, can you give it to me?’
I turn to Nick and he seems to be laughing. ‘Why were you in the back of the truck?’
‘I went to the farm to look for you and then your cat went in the back of your truck and I was trying to beckon her out,’ I explain. ‘Why didn’t you check before you closed the gate?’
‘Because…’
‘Health and safety,’ I say, flaring my nostrils. ‘I want to fill in an incident form.’ He’s doing his best to contain a rather large smile but he’s also scanning me from my shoulders to my forehead. ‘I’ve got half those trees in my hair again, haven’t I?’
He nods, reaching over to pick out pine needles. ‘And a bit of snow?’
I look up at where we are, and it seems to be the back of a hotel right in central London, the Thames to our right, lit up as far as the eye can see. A line of people have appeared to remove the trees from the truck. ‘Someone’s getting married here tomorrow, they wanted some more trees to add to the magic,’ Nick explains. He watches as Bonnie jumps into the truck and curls into a ball on the driver’s seat. ‘You came to the farm?’
‘Because some idiot made me a desk,’ I say, still angry, still feeling huge swathes of emotion that make me literally fizz.
