Page 1 of Big Nick Energy
ONE
BATH, DECEMBER 2018
‘And the final round is all about books set at Christmas!’ cries our host behind the bar wearing reindeer antlers, a red and green holly-print festive suit and a bow tie. ‘First question! The opening chapters ofLittle Womenare set at Christmas, but what are the names of all the sisters in the March family?’
Where does one buy an outfit like that? When else would you wear it? Christmas Day itself? I wouldn’t be able to digest my sprouts looking at that. His tone and stance tell me he’s the most excited person in this place, which figures. Everyone else in here is at different stages of drunk, and here for the social. I’m not really sure how driven they are by the grand prize of twenty-five pounds, a box of luxury crackers and a meat hamper.
‘Oh, my wife loves this one. The one with Darcy. Lizzie, Jane… right?’
I sit at my corner table near the misted-up window, eavesdropping on the team on the table beside me, named ‘The Myrrh the Merrier’ – three older men, all with pints and Christmas jumpers, one of them armed with reading glasses and a pen.
‘Mary?’ one says cluelessly.
‘Amy, Jo, Beth and Meg,’ I mutter, my hand covering my mouth.
One of them turns to look at me. ‘Bev?’
‘Beth,’ I say and laugh, hoping the quiz host can’t see me. Is this breaking quiz rules? Will I get thrown out?
He winks back at me, giving a thumbs up. ‘You want to join us? We could do with the help…’ he whispers. ‘We’ll give you a cut? Our chipolatas?’
‘Dave…’ one of the others intervenes. ‘She’s a young girl, mate…’
He realises his gaffe and blushes instantly. ‘Off the meat hamper obviously. Christ, I’m not a perv. I’m sorry…’
I smile broadly. ‘You’re lucky it’s Christmas. It’s fine. I knew what you meant. You can have that answer for free, in the spirit of giving,’ I say, putting a hand to my chest. I’m in a Nirvana t-shirt, trainers and jeans. I’m not exactly dressed for festive fun. ‘I’m actually waiting for someone.’
‘A date?’ Dave asks.
‘A boyfriend.’ They all smile and seem quite happy for me.
‘Question two! InThe Christmas Carol,what is the name of Scrooge’s fiancée?’ The whole table look at me. I stare at the gaudy gold bells hanging off a garland next to us. All their thumbs go up again.
I’d kill in this quiz. But it’s not why I’m here. I look at my watch. He’s half an hour late. I look at my phone, no messages so I take a prolonged sip of red wine to fill the space. I’m sure we did say our pub for 7.30pm. It is our pub because this is exactly where we met, over by the bar, festooned with the same foil decorations and plastic Santa signs. That was a year ago, a night when this popular university haunt was filled to the brim with students all overflowing with the merriment of the season. A sea of Christmas jumpers with a heavy scent of meaty crisps and mulled wine. I can remember them playing Band Aid anda group of students standing on stools all took on different personas to sing along. Bono was especially mullered. It was rammed, and the man next to me was so close that I could smell the Paco Rabanne wafting off him.
‘Seeing as we’re standing so close to each other, I should tell you that I’m thick,’he said. I smile as I remember it. At the time, I frowned, puzzled; wondering why he was divulging this information to me.
‘Hi.’
‘What’s your name?’ he asked me. I paused, then turned to look at him; he was reasonably handsome with sandy blond hair, cool slate-coloured eyes. I liked the bobbles on his jumper which showed me it was well-worn and loved.
‘Kay,’ I replied.
‘No, I asked you what your name is?’
‘I’m Kay.’
At this point, I decided he was definitely thick. Or drunk.
‘Oh, I thought you were telling me you’re OK. Kay, like the letter?’ he said.
‘But not. I don’t work for MI6,’ I explained.
For some reason, he found that hilarious.
‘Is… short…?’ he said.
I tried to make out his words through the racket of Mariah Carey now warbling over the sound system. Was he being rude? I stood on my toes because I was keeping it casual in jeans and trainers. ‘I’m five foot six.’
