Page 8 of The Night Before Christmas
Felicity nodded.
‘I’ll warn you, it’s a biggie.’
‘Go on…? And also, for the record, you’re scaring me.’
‘I think it’s me that should be scared.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes. You see, the thing is… I’ve never owned a cat. Or a dog. Or even a hamster. Don’t hate me.’
He put his hands protectively over his head as he spoke, and Felicity laughed again.
‘Whether or not I hate you depends almost entirely on whether you are about to tell me you can’t stand animals or whether it’s simply because you had a deprived childhood?’
James laughed but didn’t remove his hands from his head. ‘I obviously hate all animals, what can I say?’
Felicity threw another Malteser at him. This was promising to descend into a full-on food fight.
‘Just kidding. It’s definitely the second one,’ he said. ‘I deeply regret it. My parents were clearly inhuman freaks.’
‘You could always… rectify the situation,’ she said, waving an arm vaguely around the centre. ‘We have one or two…’
‘Ah, as it happens, I’m holding out for a particular one or two,’ he said, nodding his head towards the cat nursery.
Felicity felt her heart turn to liquid. ‘Aw, Penguin Man,’ she said. ‘You’re smitten!’
He smiled a broad smile. ‘I think I might be.’
They gazed at each other, and this time it wasn’t just Felicity’s ears that went hot. She yanked at the collar of her poloshirt to try and cover the spreading blush on her neck. What was it about this man?
‘I think it’s time for me to thrash you,’ she said, trying her best to keep a straight face.
And that is how they ended up spending a sleepy and rather drunken Christmas afternoon sitting on the office floor, surrounded by carpet picnic detritus, and playing round after round of chess improvised with Andrea’s desk ornaments and empty beer bottles. Every so often they would amble around the centre checking on the animals, who all seemed to be behaving, even Freddy the dachshund who of course had taken an instant liking to James. Typical.
Let the records state, it was very, very bad chess.
And a very, very good Christmas.
CHAPTER SIX
Two days later,Felicity’s friends arrived at her flat for an enforced Christmas party. Which makes it sound like they were invited, but it was rather more complicated than that.
Rebecca (‘Bex’) and Sophie had known Felicity since school and although they knew she had rather strong feelings about Christmas, they were the tiny but resilient remnant who would still try and encourage her into a bit of festivity. Most years, she managed to avoid them during the critical period with excuses about work, but for some reason this year she had finally relented and agreed to a ‘small affair’ at her place providing they didn’t ‘go too mad’.
And tonight was the night. It had come round far too quickly for Felicity’s liking, and she was still knackered from her completely sleep-deprived Christmas at the centre. But, she sighed, with the briefest of glances in the mirror as she quickly ran a brush through her hair and changed her top for one that was slightly less crumpled, there was no going back now.
Bex and Sophie arrived half an hour late as per usual, absolutely laden with huge bags full of fizz and chocolates and leftovers from their own rather more traditional Christmases. Both had donned the most ridiculous festive jumpers and hatsthey could find, and Felicity could only stand aside as they bustled in like two little Christmas elves and swept up any mess they discovered on the way, fluffing cushions, clearing dirty crockery, and even making her dishevelled bed.
Then they set about making Felicity’s tiny flat a little bit cheerier. They were careful not to call it ‘Christmassy’ as such, but Bex had brought streamers and blown up pink and purple balloons and Sophie had even made a sort of tree for Felicity out of some branches sprayed with white paint and covered in glitter. Sophie was that sort of person. Good At Crafts. Equipped With Glitter.
It was all a bit much, but for some reason Felicity didn’t feel as cross about it as she thought she might. The ‘sort of tree’ was actually quite pretty, once it had pink and purple baubles hanging from its shimmery branches. And the food, she had to admit, was delicious. No roast dinner here, Felicity avoided those whenever she could, but Bex’s home-made turkey curry and rice served with crispy poppadoms went down a treat. Sophie had brought the desserts – chocolate yule log and a very boozy 1970s style trifle, with glacé cherries on top and everything. They had even brought crackers, although both women knew better than to try and make her wear the paper hat.
I suppose, thought Felicity grudgingly, as she finished her second helping of sherry trifle,it’s quite nice to have some company.That was before Bex pulled out her phone and attempted to put Christmas songs on the Bluetooth speaker, anyway, at which point Felicity felt she must intervene.
‘Nope.’
‘What do you mean, nope?’
