Page 3 of One More Day
‘No one would expect you to be so hard on yourself like this, Rose,’ he reminds me, his brow creased with worry. ‘And don’t say you have George. He doesn’t count.’
I sip my cocktail and glance around to make sure none of our staff members are within earshot. Thankfully they are mostly now singing into champagne bottles while swaying arm in arm in time to the festive music. For a flickering moment I wish I was that age again, thathappyagain. Fearless and carefree, the world my oyster.
As far as anyone else in our small but forceful agency is concerned, I’m leaving the fast-moving city life this Christmas to spend time with my ageing parents and doting sister up north where I come from. They believe this is what I’ve done for the past few years since I first arrived in Dublin with a rescue dog, a smashed-up heart and just about enough strength to land a job where I’ve managed to work my way up to the very top in a relatively short space of time.
‘George will be with me wherever I go and whatever I do,’ I say, managing a smile for my business partner. ‘He is excellent company.’
Carlos rolls his eyes.
‘He prefers meaty chunks in jelly to a fancy turkey dinner,’ I continue. ‘He doesn’t get drunk, but still sleeps most of the day. My George is anidealChristmas companion.’
‘So, you aren’t tempted to ditch him and jet off somewhere hot for a change, then?’
I put my hand to my chest in mock horror.
‘Me and George are a team, Carlos. A package. We’re a—’
I’m about to say ‘a family’, which makes my stomach twist when I think of my actual family up north, who I only wish I could celebrate Christmas with like I used to.
‘Have you called your mum yet to tell her you’re doing it alone again?’ asks Carlos, reading my mind, it seems.
‘No.’
‘Sarah?’
I shake my head.
‘Are you going to?’
I shake my head again.
‘Oh, Rose.’
‘I can’t tell them yet,’ I say, dropping my voice down as low as I can beneath the irritating seasonal music. The raucous laughter in the air which would, in days gone by, be treacle to my soul, is now only a reminder of how miserable I am inside. ‘I dread the disappointment in my mother’s voice when I tell her I want to spend Christmas alone again. But I need to, Carlos. I have to.’
He looks away. I know what he’s going to say.
‘You do realise that when you finally do decide to spend Christmas with your whole family again, it might be too late. You know as well as I do that life can change in the blink of an eye.’
I pause. My stomach drops at the thought.
‘I get that, Carlos. I totally do,’ I sigh, feeling a confession coming on. ‘Don’t get mad, but I had this crazy fantasy moment where I thought I saw him earlier. It was just someone who looked like him. I knew that, but—’
Carlos goes to interrupt but I talk over him.
‘Look, I know it’s stupid and sad before you say so. I knew it couldn’t be him, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having a closer look.’
‘Was that your wobble earlier?’
‘Yes,’ I nod, feeling my eyes fill up.
‘I’m so sorry, babe,’ says Carlos. ‘And it’s not stupid or sad. It’s heart-breaking. I’m sorry.’
My throat dries up. It’s almost time for me to get out of here.
‘I wasthisfar from totally humiliating myself when the man turned around and – oh Carlos, am I losing my mind? It was the new girl Alice’s husband. But for just one second, just one glorious second, I let myself imagine he wasn’t gone at all.’
I bite my lip and look away. I won’t cry tonight, no matter how emotional a few cocktails can make me feel. I have sobbed my lungs out to Carlos behind closed doors over losing Michael, but there’s no way I’m breaking down in front of everyone here.
