Page 3 of Christmas Romance Galore!
I let the sentence hang for a few seconds before replying. “I know all of that — but Milly says she’s changed since she met this woman. Apparently, she’s way calmer, a different person. And Milly said she seemed happier too — happier than she’s seen her in a long time.”
Holly scoffed again. “It won’t last. Melanie has crazy stamped through her core. She’ll find a way to fuck it up.”
We were approaching the tall, black iron park gates now, the early evening sharp around us.
“I disagree. I think Melanie was just waiting for the right person and she’s found her. She’s been saved. I like the thought of that. I want someone to come along and sweep me off my feet, make me see the world in a different way. And if that could happen at Christmas time, I might burst with happiness.”
Holly blew on to her hands before putting an arm around me. “You don’t need saving — you’re fine as you are.”
“Maybe.” I paused before continuing. “But maybe there’s someone out there who can make me the best version of myself I can possibly be — there’s always room for improvement, isn’t there?”
Holly shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Good,” I said. “So starting tonight, it’s Operation Christmas and you’re going to be my wingwoman, just like in a terrible 80s movie.” I stopped walking and turned to Holly who had an amused look on her face. “And I know you don’t believe me, but I’m deadly serious.” I paused. “Are you in?”
Holly stroked her rounded chin before answering. “One month is a tight deadline to meet someone and call them your girlfriend.”
“I’m aware.”
“But if a Christmas girlfriend is what you’re after, together we’ll look in every street in London to find the perfect woman. Who knows, we might even find someone for me too.” Holly smiled at the thought.
“We might both find a girlfriend for Christmas,” I said, my smile radiating just how happy that would make me. “Now that really would be a Hollywood movie ending.” I linked my arm through Holly’s as we walked on to the main road and headed back to our flat.
“But I’d like to say again,” Holly added, “the current version of you doesn’t need any saving. You’re fine just the way you are.”
I grinned up at her. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: your sweet talk will get you everywhere.”
Saturday November 26th
To get online, the first thing I had to do was write my profile. I pulled up the app Melanie had success with, and after filling in all my details, I was asked for five key phrases to describe myself.
What would my friends say? Flighty, indecisive, tequila-intolerant, brunette, good tits. I wasn’t sure I should go with that.
What about me? I pulled out a pad and pen, then began writing. Average height and build, shoulder-length maple brown hair, loves cats, tans easily. I wrinkled my nose — I needed to make it more than just another lesbian with a fondness for pussies.
Okay, take two. Five phrases or words. I could do this, I worked in marketing for goodness sake. I tapped my pen on my pad but my mind went blank. Eventually after a few minutes, I wrote: athletic, good dancer, blue eyes, deadline-driven, likes avocados. Deadline-driven? Honestly, I was rubbish at this. Perhaps this was why GSOH was so popular.
I needed help. I got up and walked through to the lounge, where Holly was stretched out on the couch watching football. Holly worked as a recruitment consultant in the City, a hangover of a job from her post-university years. She had a degree in history and politics, which she’d soon realised led to precisely no jobs in the real world. So when a friend of a friend had offered her a position in his firm, she’d taken it. That had been five years ago. Now, she spent her days placing people in jobs they may or may not want and got paid handsomely for it.
I squinted at the TV. “Who’s playing?” I sat on the opposite end of the sofa.
Holly didn’t move her gaze from the screen. “Us and Chelsea.”
I tapped my foot a few times before speaking again. “So you know my profile?”
Holly didn’t respond.
“Hols?”
She ignored me again.
“Hollister?”
She looked at me. “Your profile.”
“Yeah — can you help me?”
“At half-time.”
