Page 14 of Five Gold Rings

‘I like Christmas, shoot me…’ he says, unapologetic.

‘I didn’t have you down as the sort.’

‘Well, I hope I didn’t read miserable Scrooge?’ he says, pouting, as I strap myself in.

‘Nah, it’s just I know Christmas people. I thought you’d be more of a low-key Christmas dude. A sensible jumper and mulled wine kind of man.’

‘I’m novelty jumper, all the way. I Christmas hard.’

‘Favourite Christmas song?’ I ask in a quickfire way.

‘Driving Home for Christmasby Chris Rea,’ he replies with no hesitation. ‘Yours?’

‘Jingle Bell Rock,’ I reply.

‘Classic. Favourite item of a Christmas dinner?’

‘Pigs in blankets. Yours?’

‘Brussels sprouts.’

‘I’m leaving the car now.’

‘Have you had them roasted with bacon? And then I use the gravy and cheese sauce as a dip.’

I look over at him and laugh.

‘Don’t mock it till you’ve tried it, Eve,’ he says, pulling out of a junction, leaning over the wheel, his frame far too big for the size of this motor.

‘So this explains the outfit then. Is it just a range of Christmas shorts and robes until New Year’s?’ I ask.

‘I wish. I was at one of my many other work gigs: a festive hen do as an elf waiter.’

‘That sounds like fun.’

‘It was carnage. I was allowed to leave early which is good because it means I can be here instead of being groped by someone’s Aunty Celeste.’

I laugh as his car chokes slightly, like it has a winter cough, and instinct tells me to reach for a grab handle.

Joe looks over at me. ‘I don’t know whether you’re judging my driving here.’

‘It’s just the car. Am I allowed to ask if it’s roadworthy?’

He seems insulted by the remark. ‘Cheeky. It is. It’s a relic, I know, but it has sentimental value,’ he tells me, stroking the steering wheel.

‘Go on…’

‘My dad bought it for me as a first car and we did it up together. She’s seen me through many a road trip. I just don’t have the heart to get rid of her…’

‘Her? Your car is female? She has a name, doesn’t she?’

‘Olive. I know that is sad. Don’t judge me.’

‘It’s strangely endearing…’

There is a moment of silence, Joe’s Christmas music filling the space.

‘I am really sorry to hear what happened with Chris. You know that, right?’ he mutters.

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