Page 13 of Five Gold Rings

I was just going to pick up cufflinks. Mrs Caspar is thinking beyond that, she’s plotting. You can use the magic of Christmas and the forced proximity to heal her sweet broken heart and then get her to fall in love with you. This is awful, transparent and I’m already sweating at how this has somewhat evolved because ten minutes ago, I thought I’d just take her out for some food and make sure she got home safely.

‘Did you have Christmas plans over the next day or so?’ I ask Eve.

‘I did, but not now, obviously.’

I cringe slightly. Oh yeah, the boyfriend and the shower. I forgot.

‘Did you?’ she asks me.

I’ll have to make an awkward phone call to my family, but I can delay my trip down south. I shake my head, a large gulp sinking to the back of my throat, like she’s just said yes to a date. I have not thought this through. I’m dressed as an elf.

‘Then let’s do this together. It’ll be a distraction, keep me busy.’ She pauses, looking lost in her own emotions. ‘I don’t want anyone else’s Christmas ruined either so let’s do something… good. You in?’

As she says it, I smile because that’s very Eve. Some would want to burn the world down after her morning and drag them into their suffering but everything she does is steeped in kindness. I’m in, I’m there,sothere, but I have to keep my cool. Mr and Mrs Caspar, who moments ago looked like two small dogs hating on each other, have come together, linking arms to watch us.

‘I’m in,’ I say as casually as possible.

Mrs Caspar claps her hands and comes over to give us a collective hug. ‘I love this. Thank you. This is an excellent plan,’ she says, nodding her head excitedly at me. No, Mrs Caspar. Please, no.

FOUR

Eve

‘So how are you doing this?’ Mrs Caspar asks me as I grab at pieces of paper and stuff them into my handbag. ‘Joe just texted – he’s parked out on one of the side streets.’

‘Well, we deliver the cufflinks and collect the rings. Then we work through all these deliveries.’

‘We will message the customers to explain you’re on your way. I’ll send you the details so you know when they need to get there by,’ she tells me, holding me close as we head outside. ‘Don’t try to do them all today! Get some rest tonight. Do you have anywhere to stay? Room at the inn can be hard to find this time of year?’ she jokes.

‘We’ll work it out. Have a little adventure. We can do this.’ We must do this. I like a challenge, but something tells me I volunteered for this to make me think I can achieve something, to save this craphole of a day and have something else to remember it by.

‘Well, have fun,’ she says, winking.

‘Did you just wink at me, Mrs Caspar?’

She stops for a moment. ‘It’s a twitch, I’m very old. I mean, Joe will make it fun. You’re in safe hands there with the handsome elf.’

I smirk as she says this. ‘I know. I am sure we will get our fair share of attention given his shorts, too.’

‘Yep, his jingle is very impressive.’

‘And there was me thinking it was mostly baubles.’

Mrs Caspar cackles and throws her arms around me. ‘Go well into the night, you two. Keep me posted. We adore you both.’

‘I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. Thank you for looking after me today. I don’t deserve you.’

‘You do.’

She blows me a kiss and I go in search of Joe. As I approach the car, I think about what Mrs Caspar just called him. The handsome elf. He’s the sort of man who might catch your eye, he has kind eyes, light brown hair and a hint of stubble and chisel. But maybe I’ve just never looked at him like that because my gaze was always looking the other way. Joe and I have known each other for nearly two years now, the part-timers at Caspar & Sons. As much as it pains me to say it, he’s just a nice guy; the sort who’ll suggest a quick drink before home, the one who’ll cover for me when I’m late or ill and buy me the occasional coffee. He displays that sort of buddy behaviour that restores your faith in people. It’s a relief to see him today because he’s like a security blanket; his friendship feels sincere and genuine.

‘For the love of sweet baby Jesus,’ I say, as I open the door.

Our noble steed on this quest is Joe’s battered old green Mini. I may have grabbed a lift in this motor before. The heating rattles and a door handle doesn’t quite work without a shake and a shuffle. I think I’ve also pushed this car down the alley behind the shop to get it working. Please don’t make me have to do the same today mainly because I’m drunk and haven’t eaten properly all day.

‘You’ve been in my car before?’ he asks, slightly insulted.

It’s like walking into a grotto on wheels, like Christmas threw up in here. The whole inside of the car is bedecked in fairy lights, there’s a little mooning Santa on the dashboard, Christmas music blares out of the stereo. ‘I’ve been in your car when it’s been less… festive.’

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