Page 3 of We Three Kings

‘Oh, don’t be sad,’ I say, charmed by his thoughtfulness. ‘I’m fine with my own company. Pyjamas all day, not having to share my chocolates. I’ll be alright.’

As I say it out loud though, I sense that they don’t quite believe me. I guess after four constant years in their company they know when I’m not quite telling the truth. Like that time I told them we’d made the company newsletter because theWiseman Brothers wanted to praise our good work. Never happened. They knew because they also read the company newsletter.

‘Actually, I’m going to a friend’s for the afternoon so it won’t just be me on my lonesome for that whole time,’ I say, trying to allay their worries. Leo looks me in the eye. He knows that may be a lie. The fact is I’m still trying to work out how I feel about all of it. I don’t feel abandoned and I think I’m not too daunted by the prospect but on the other hand I don’t want to infiltrate people’s Christmases. For many, it’s sacred family time that you don’t want to encroach on. Everyone is so rushed off their feet, stressed and busy that it feels wrong to add to people’s plates. I’ll be fine on my own.

‘Well, that’s good,’ Frank says.

Leo still studies my face trying to work me out, but the moment is interrupted by the waitress returning with chips and dips.

‘Chips, guac, salsa and frijoles negroes. Enjoy!’

‘Yay!’ Frank claps his hands. The waitress doesn’t know what to do with that. Jasper rakes through the dips with a chip, looking for fingernails.

‘Well, before we get too drunk and knee deep in quesadillas, we come bearing gifts…’ Leo says. He reaches into his rucksack and pulls out an immaculately wrapped gift in brown paper and a red gingham bow. There’s a gift card with my name written on it in perfect calligraphy. I widen my eyes to see it as I know I haven’t got anything with me. It may be a Christmas meal but we still have a month before the big day itself.

‘What? I…’

‘Didn’t you get our email about the Secret Santa?’ Leo says plainly.

‘There was an email?’ I reply, confused. I’m good with emails, why didn’t I catch this? I am mortified. I’ll have tobuy them all extra drinks. Then I look at them and see them all smile. Oh, they’re joking? That is good. I think.

Leo hands the gift to me. ‘Maggie, we know that we weren’t invited to the big corporate do with the magician and the ice skating…’ he admits.

‘And we know that you did this so we could have a Christmas do of sorts,’ Jasper continues.

‘You know?’ I say, feeling awful on their behalf.

‘We do talk to other people in the building. Maintenance also weren’t invited,’ Frank tells me. ‘Their response has been to block all the toilets on every other floor.’

I laugh, my hands wrapped tightly around the package, emotion welling up in me. ‘I just wanted you to have a nice night out. You do work hard and I’m sorry they forgot us…’ I explain. ‘I didn’t get you anything though. I was going to do that nearer Christmas.’

Leo shakes his head. ‘Oh, this is just something stupid to say thank you.’

‘You want me to open it now?’ I ask them.

They all nod in unison. I slip my fingers under the brown paper and pull out a framed picture of a screenshot. I laugh so loudly to see it. It’s the time when I got the Wordle on my first guess. It’s our daily tradition. We all get in the office, wake up our computers and do the Wordle before we do anything else. The last one to get it has to make the tea for the rest of the day. I remember that day clearly. AUDIO. When those green squares flicked up one by one, I danced, I gloated, I went on about it for days like it was my life’s best achievement.

‘We thought you could hang it in the office…’ Leo tells me, smiling. ‘Then maybe you’d stop going on about it.’

I hold the frame to my chest. ‘I love it and I love you all. Thank you.’

Frank doesn’t quite know how to absorb that expression ofemotion, Jasper scrunches his face up, almost in disgust, but Leo looks at me, smiling to see my excitement from such a silly gift.

‘Well, I think that deserves a toast,’ I say, holding my cocktail glass up high. ‘To IT and Christmas, and the fact I once beat you all at Wordle!’ I exclaim. They all hold their glasses up, shaking their heads. ‘Merry Christmas, everyone!’ I say a little too animatedly. Some of the other diners in the restaurant turn to look at me.

Our waitress has returned to take our orders. ‘No. No. It’s November, love,’ she tells me. ‘Shush now about Christmas or you’ll have to leave. Now what can I get you all? Would you like to ask me about my nachos?’

TWO

‘Maggie? Maggie?’ I hear the words whispering over me, like a ghost in my ear. I am dead. This is someone calling me to the afterlife. I must stay away from the light.

I sit up, pulling at my hair like I’m opening curtains from the window that is my face. Yet there is no light. I look down at the bed covers: blue, striped and surprisingly soft. Is that brushed cotton? That’s lovely. But not mine. Shit. Blind panic runs right through me. I look around the room: there’s a dresser with a mirror and a limited assortment of toiletries and, to the left of that, aBlade Runnerposter and a cork noticeboard filled to the brim with postcards, tickets and photos. I reach down to find I am wearing the dress I had on last night. Did I? No. I would have remembered that. I dimly remember an Uber with Frank and Leo. Please tell me I didn’t throw up on them. I will never live that down.

‘Maggie? Maggie?’ the voice sounds again, accompanied by a light knocking. I attempt to straighten out my hair and pull the duvet up over my shoulders.

‘Yes?’

The door opens tentatively and Leo pops his head round, his eyes tightly closed. ‘Are you decent?’ he asks.

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