Page 33 of Christmas Games
‘Clive, it’s Rory and Zoe here. When’s your Kayleigh’s birthday?’
‘Next month. It’s her 21st. Why?’
‘Have you seen the posters for the ceilidh yet?’
‘No.’
‘The printer fucked up big time, and it looks like we’re throwing a party for her.’
‘You’re joking?’
‘No.’
Clive laughed. ‘God, she’ll either be mortified or think it’s the best thing ever.’
‘I want to try and turn this around,’ Rory continued. ‘Could you speak to Kayleigh and ask if she wants to invite her friends? We can give her fifty free tickets if she’s happy to turn this into an early birthday party?’
‘Will do. I’ll speak to her now and ring you back.’
‘Thanks, Clive.’
Rory ended the call.
‘Thank you.’ Zoe smiled. ‘That’s a brilliant idea.’
He shrugged. ‘First time for everything.’
‘Nonsense. You’re amazing. It’s me who’s falling apart.’
He pulled her into his arms. ‘You’re eight months pregnant and haven’t taken a proper day off in weeks. You’re doing great.’
‘Did you get the tree for the entrance hall?’
‘Yeah, want to go and see it?’
Oh god.Just no.
Zoe bit the inside of her cheek to stop the scream of frustration escaping. She couldn’t piss all over her husband’s handiwork. Rory may have chopped down a tree taller than any cottage in Kinloch, but in the entrance hall of the castle it looked embarrassingly small.
She’d already vastly underestimated the volume of decorations needed to turn the castle into a Hallmark Christmasspecial, and now they were also dealing with a national shortage of mistletoe and holly.
Brad’s friends were expecting a winter wonderland, but instead were going to get one from Poundland. The worst thing was that Rory had decorated the tree with every bauble they had, and it still looked completely under-dressed.
He had a worried frown on his face. ‘Is it okay? It’s the first tree I’ve ever decorated.’
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
She burst into tears.
‘Zoe, love, what’s wrong? Just tell me and I’ll fix it.’
‘It’s too small and you’ve gone to so much effort and I’m a terrible person and I can’t cope and I’m losing my mind,’ she wailed.
He ran his hands into his hair. ‘I’ll sort it. I’ll find a way.’
‘There isn’t a way, Rory. We’ve run out of time, and I’m the one to blame. I wanted the extra ceilidh, the festival of lights, and the sodding Santa experience. I was the one who said yes to Brad’s friends. Christmas is ruined, and it’s all my fault!’
8
