Page 89 of Big Nick Energy
We cross the high street to a side street and proceed to walk towards the mews and my maisonette. However, as we do, we see a large van parked up by my door and a man waiting outside, knocking on the door. Lucy looks at me as our pace slows but my heart picks up a beat. I can’t make out who it is. Could it be him? But as the man turns to face us, the light picks out the face of a complete stranger.
‘Hi,’ I mutter into the darkness.
‘Kay Redman?’ the man asks. I try and work out if I’ve missed paying a bill and the man is here to take away my television.If your name is Nick as well then I’m running away from here.Lucy stands there adopting a pose that says she could take him on. I’m slightly glad for the back-up.
‘I have a delivery for you.’
‘For me? I didn’t order anything,’ I say.
‘Well, let’s assume it’s from Santa then,’ he chuckles. Lucy and I look at each other as he goes into his van and begins to drag out a piece of furniture, wrapped in wood and bubble wrap. He places it by the front door as Lucy looks it up and down. ‘Can you sign here?’ he asks. I’m too dumbfounded to take anything in so Lucy takes the pen and puts her initials down on the monitor. It beeps. ‘Are you two OK?’ We both nod, silently. ‘Well, Merry Christmas then.’
‘Yeah, Merry… Christmas…’ I say.
He laughs under his breath and gets into his truck as Lucy and I examine the parcel from afar. She looks at me unable to hold in her grin.
‘Stop it,’ I say. It’s because she knows what this is, she knows who it’s from. I bet the cow even gave him my address. ‘Take that end. We better get it in.’
She heads to one end of the package and grips her fingers over it while I do the same, both of us angling it as best we can through the hallway and into the space of my front room. ‘Told you the man was all about wood,’ Lucy says. I put a finger to my lips. I dig my fingertips into the plastic and tear it away, unwrapping until the gift reveals itself. It’s a table… a desk? I run my hand over it until I get to one corner and see my initials carved into the surface. Don’t cry. Too late. I don’t know why but I kneel down and rest a cheek on the wood. ‘There’s a card.’
‘I can’t read it,’ I say, sobbing onto the desk.
‘Would you like me to…’
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
Lucy opens the card and bends over laughing. ‘For your next book about beavers…’
I manage to smile through my tears.
‘I thought you hadn’t slept with him?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘A special desk for a special author. Keep telling people (and yourself) that. Merry Christmas, Nick…xxx’ Lucy says, reading the rest of the card. She fans the card with her hands and stands there with her hip out. ‘My boy’s done good.’ I just hope this thing is varnished because I seem to be soaking it with my tears. ‘Who knew my grumpy boss had this in him. I mean, even I’m a cynical bitch but this… this is pretty slick Nick.’
‘He made this?’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘For me?’
‘Those are your initials?’ she says, slightly bemused. ‘Are you crying because you didn’t get him anything?
Tears continue to stream down my face. ‘I got him a capybara-feeding experience.’
Lucy doesn’t quite know how to reply to that. ‘He’s at the farm, you know? Until ten-ish?’ I look up at her as she approaches me, wiping my damp face with her hands. ‘Kay, maybe this doesn’t have to be very confusing at all.’
‘It doesn’t?’ I say.
‘Nah, I’m getting you an Uber, bitch. Go find your boy. And that’s my bloody Christmas gift to you.’
I’m sitting in the back of this Uber, on my notes in my phone, trying to write down something. It’s because when I finally get to that farm and see Nick, I know I won’t be able to say anything. I need words. Good words. I should have brought Lucy but she needed to get to work and we both knew this was a solo trip, something I needed to do alone. Words, words, words. I need to know exactly what to say to him to show him how much that desk is everything, how since he’s come into my life, the world has started to glow in every bloody different colour imaginable.
‘Lady, are we sure this place is here?’ the Uber driver asks. I nod enthusiastically. ‘Who gets a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve?’
‘People who’ve realised they’ve missed out.’
‘Disorganised people,’ he says in a thick accent. ‘My sat nav is saying it’s just woods here. If you are luring me here to mug me and take my organs then please know I have a family. I have kids.’
