Page 2 of This Christmas

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‘Merry Christmas everyone!’ I announce with a beaming smile. ‘Thank you all for making the effort to be together tonight to celebrate the end of another wonderful year.’

My small group of colleagues burst into applause as I take up a central point in the hired hotel function room.

‘Let us raise a glass,’ I suggest, ‘to another twelve months that once again proves that we’re the most creative, the most passionate and the most talented digital marketing team in Ireland.’

‘Hear, hear!’ Carlos calls out to me. His jovial stance and flamboyance fill the room as always. After almost three years in partnership with him, I’m glad to have him to focus on to keep my mind steady.

‘Online is a fast-moving, forever changing industry, but, as always, we at Activate will remain miles ahead in a global, digital world – one where we’ll continue to move forward at a pace our competitors can only watch from afar.’

My stomach is in knots. I see the man who looks like Michael in the corner of my eye, but I keep going. I keep smiling.

‘Here’s to another bumper year, where we will continue to nurture and encourage every individual in our growingteam. I am immensely proud of what we have achieved and continue to achieve. I am inspired every day by the dedication, creativity and passion that every single one of you brings to our small but vibrant agency. So, here’s to Activate. Here’s to the future. Here’s to you.’

More applause. More clinking of glasses.

I’ve almost convinced even myself that I’ve got my shit together.

I have a job to do here in Dublin. It’s the one thing in life that I do very well.

It’s the one thing I can’t afford to let go, no matter how much I’m grieving sore.

‘What. A. Speech! What a speech! Seriously, you rock, my darling.’

‘Bet you say that to all the girls,’ I tease, taking an espresso martini from Carlos. We touch glasses in celebration.

Now that the formalities are over and after a quick freshen up in the bathroom, I’m slowly coming back to myself after my earlier wobble, but the escape door is never far out of my sight.

I fix Carlos’s oversized collar which is sticking up at the back of his neck. He is dapper in his yellow paisley shirt and clashing orange dicky bow. Even on dreary Mondays he wouldn’t look out of place at any fancy do, despite working in a slightly cramped but chic office in inner city Dublin. He’s ten years older than my thirty-six years, but it’s a running joke how I can’t help but mother him.

‘I don’t say that to everyone, and you know it,’ he says, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek before adjustinghis round, black-rimmed glasses. He smells like spiced wine. ‘You’re my bestie. Now, are you OK? As wonderful as you were just now, I’m just checking.’

Carlos never misses a trick.

‘I was thrown off course ever so slightly by my mind playing games earlier, but I’m fine now.’

‘Rose? What happened?’

I shake it off, knowing I’ll tell Carlos about my fleeting moment of madness eventually.

‘It’s silly. Honestly. Just a bit of a wobble. So, tell me all about your festive plans. Are you looking forward to taking some time out? I can’t wait to just switch off and do nothing.’

Carlos raises an eyebrow.

‘Hmm, OK. You can let me know when you’re ready. Now, please tell me you’ve reconsidered my offer to join us for Christmas. My dad’s bought an extra cheeseboard and new wine glasses –crystalwine glasses – in case you change your mind. And he’s finally invested in Scrabble. An all-new limited edition.’

We walk towards a high table with tall stools by the window. I claim it quickly by setting down my silver beaded handbag, which belonged to my late Granny Molly in the 1960s. Like most things I own, it’s been on this earth for a lot longer than I have.

‘That’s so, so sweet of him,’ I tell Carlos as we slide onto a stool each. ‘But you know I’m only faking this for tonight. I can’t do Christmas just yet.’

‘But Rose—’

‘I mean it, I can’t,’ I explain for the umpteenth time.

‘But why punish yourself like this?’ he whispers. ‘Haven’t you suffered enough?’

‘I can’t face it yet,’ I whisper in return. ‘Tonight is as good as it gets, Carlos. Then my plan is to havenoplans, just like before. I’m taking some extended leave from tomorrow and when I come back after all the fuss is over, I’ll be fully recharged and refreshed to pick up again.’

He scrunches up his face, his brown eyes glistening with concern. His glasses are steaming up with the heat, so he takes them off and buffs them up as he speaks.