Page 16 of Five Gold Rings

‘Well, you know what they say… cold hands…’

‘Warm heart?’

‘Need gloves… There are some in my glove compartment along with…’ He stops for a moment.

‘A gift?’ I say, eyeing a package in there wrapped in holly paper and a red ribbon.

He backtracks all of a sudden. ‘That’s for my mum. I was going to say there should be some sweets in there if you need something to add to your heightened state.’

I don’t say no and watch as he mouths the words to the Christmas song on the radio. ‘Sweet?’ I ask him.

‘Throw one over,’ he says opening his mouth. He catches it, I cheer.

‘You’re a good catch.’

‘It has been said,’ he replies, the Christmas lights in his car reflecting off his face in a million different colours.

Joe

I was not ready for this in any way, shape or form. Back at the shop, I had to make excuses about locating my car because I had to fling things in the boot and brush down the seats and make sure there were no strange smells lingering. I had to stand there in the cold, my chest on show, wondering if I could do this. If I could be in a car with her and take on this Christmas ring challenge. Now she knows my car is called Olive, and she’s talked about shagging randoms to get over her ex, then touched me and I nearly rear-ended a UPS van. What do I tell her? Don’t touch me because I’m in love with you and we have a job to do? By the end of this evening, she will think me a certified freak.

‘It’s this road on the left, number five…’ she tells me, studying the house numbers on the dimly lit street. First stop tonight is to deliver these cufflinks that have not reached their intended target. There is no plan despite Mrs Caspar’s best efforts. We drop them off, we hang out, we come up with a reasonable system for delivering these rings that I hope will involve a change of clothes for me and well, I’ll never turn down food. As we pull up to the house though, a whirr of music, lights and cars and a very fetching inflatable dancing Santa greet us, and we peer our heads through to the driveway of this very impressive gated home.

‘I’m assuming this is what the cufflinks were for?’ Eve mutters as I park up. ‘I’m completely underdressed for this. I’m in a hoodie.’

‘And I am an elf. We could just put them through the letterbox?’

‘We need to get the rings,’ she tells me, looking in a mirror trying to smooth down her hair. Her hair looks fine but I won’t say that out loud. She puts a hand in mine. ‘Let’s both go so we can cancel each other out. Team effort, right?’

I take a moment to register the fact she’s holding my hand. ‘I guess,’ I say cautiously, getting out of the car. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol in her system but she walks up to the party confidently, and I follow a little more gingerly waiting by the gate, trying to work out the occasion. It looks black tie. I don’t know what category my costume falls under but it’s definitely not that. We stand there for a moment to try and figure out the best way to tackle this.

‘Are you both from the agency?’ a voice suddenly booms from behind us. We turn to see a man in a tuxedo and a winter coat, holding an iPad and wearing a headset. I’ve been around the service industry long enough to know who this man is. ‘Wait staff are supposed to convene in the kitchen and leave all personal belongings in there. Did you not get the memo? We will report this back to the agency… NAMES?’

‘Steve…and…’

‘Joanna’

‘Why are you dressed up?’ he asks. ‘Wait staff in black and white. And you look like you’ve come from the gym. You look ridiculous,’ he says without any hint of regret that he could be insulting us. ‘Oh, hold up. Are you the fella jumping out of the ice sculpture?’

‘Yes?’ Eve replies and I swivel my head towards her. Alternatively, she could have said, no, we’re here from the jewellery shop and we’re here to give out some cufflinks, but the man starts walking which we take as a sign to follow. Eve shrugs her shoulders at me, looking far too relaxed. I feel there are easier ways to do this but at least we can get in the house through the back and not be seen, rather than have to spoil this party by entering with the fancy guests.

‘How do you jump out of an ice sculpture?’ I whisper to Eve as he leads us through a back door that opens out into the kitchen.

‘Carefully?’ she says, sniggering. ‘Just don’t lick the ice or your tongue will stick to it.’

I burst into laughter. Why would I lick the ice? Headset man turns, looking Eve up and down. ‘We’ll have to keep you behind the scenes in the kitchen. We can’t have you out in front of the guests.’

I notice Eve slightly deflate at the comment.

‘She’s actually from the catering company – the accounts manager. If the client, Mrs Kohli, is available, she’d value a quick word.’

‘Well, stay here and I’ll bring her down.’

He eyeballs us both and shows Eve into a downstairs utility area that’s storing boxes of orange juice and champagne. Headset man glares at me, signalling that I still follow him. Really? I widen my eyes at Eve. I don’t want to make a scene so stick with him as we weave through the back corridors of this giant house.

‘So, this ice sculpture… I wasn’t quite briefed. How does it work? Do they want me to say anything?’ I say, panicked. Maybe the shorts can do the work for me here. He gives me the strangest of looks.

‘No, you come out, sing and then the grand piano is set up for your set.’

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