Page 63 of Five Gold Rings

He takes a sip of his water and winks at me. I turn to the window to try to hide my amusement.

‘How awful. Well, I hope she’s as lovely as Eve.’

‘Oh, that’s impossible.’

I wink back at him. Charmer.

‘Eve, your friend is delightful,’ Miriam tells me, as she locks her arm around him. I pick up a sausage roll on the counter. Oh, Miriam, the same every year. You under-season the sausagemeat. ‘You must come on through and meet everyone,’ she says, picking up the platter, Chris following, panicked.

We all take a walk through to the dining room, already laid with amaryllis centrepieces and festive place cards and tables full of family photos, many of which feature my face. I am quiet when I see them, wondering how they will be replaced and stop at one of them, last Christmas. I’m sitting on Chris’s lap, happy. Don’t freeze, don’t cry.

‘You can do this,’ a voice whispers into my ear, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I can.

‘Oh, it’s Eve and her Swedish friend. How lovely…’ It’s Chris’s grandmother, Clara. God, I used to crochet with you and listen to the problems you had with your knees and bowel movements.

‘Nanny Clara, this is Olaf,’ I say, introducing them.

‘How great!’ Joe exclaims, throwing his hands into the air. ‘Merry Christmas!’

‘Aren’t you a handsome thing? Come here and give Nanny Clara a kiss,’ she says, pulling him close and giving him the sort of kiss usually reserved for over-friendly giraffes. Oh, Joe. I owe you many gifts for enduring this.

‘Come sit by me. Hello, Eve, darling,’ she says, patting the sofa. We take our seats, Chris hovering over us worriedly.

‘And this is Crackers,’ I tell Joe as the family cat complete in his tartan seasonal waistcoat winds his way around our legs.

‘Hello, Crackers,’ he says with Chris in close proximity. ‘Is he your cat, Chris? I hear you’re partial to a bit of festive pussy.’ I choke on my drink as Chris’s face stiffens in reply.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Chris warns him in a hissed whisper. ‘My grandmother is ninety-five. This will end her.’

‘What’s that, Christopher? Is it the end of the party? That was quick. Is it time for bed?’ she says.

‘No, Nanny. It’s just Olaf is going soon,’ Chris says. I can’t stand the tension. Are they going to face off? I don’t think Joe would do that. Chris might. How long do I sit here for? Until I’ve had a few more Christmas canapés? Until the end of this instrumental Christmas album? Until Nanny Clara tries to snog Joe again? Or until I end this properly? I need to do this, don’t I? We have a wedding to get to. Even if I’m enjoying Joe’s torture of Chris and backhanded comments, I need to end this. Take a breath, Eve. You have done nothing wrong. You just loved him.

I stand up. ‘So, I just wanted to say a little something. As it’s Christmas…’ I announce to the room, holding a cup of mulled wine to the air. My hand trembles and I look at Joe to help me steady it. ‘I met Chris when my lovely mum passed away, about three years ago now and I remember I loved being a part of this family. You took me in, you had these big family gatherings that were always full of love and togetherness, and I remember clinging on to it so tightly. I held on to Chris so tightly because I loved being a part of your family. So, it pains me to have to do this because I will miss you all very much but… no.’

‘No… to what?’ Miriam asks.

‘Chris bought me a ring for Christmas. I think it was an engagement ring.’

There is an audible gasp from everyone in the room, aunts put their hands to their mouths. ‘Well, where is it?’ cries his Uncle Bob.

‘I don’t have it anymore,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t want to marry Chris.’

‘But Eve…’ Miriam exclaims, visibly moved. ‘Whyever not?’

Don’t say it, Eve. That is not your job. Ever. Don’t say those words. Chris remains quiet. If he says nothing and puts this all on me then I will punch him. I will punch him hard. Say something, find your gonads from deep inside of you and do the right thing.

‘Because I…’ Chris whispers.

‘What a cruel thing to do, Eve, especially at Christmas,’ an aunt mutters.

‘Was the ring not to your liking? We didn’t have you down as that sort of girl,’ says another.

I look down to the floor so they can’t see me crying.

‘IT’S BECAUSE I FUCKED UP, OK? Are you happy? I messed it all up,’ Chris spurts out.

The whole room goes silent, someone cupping their hands over a young niece’s ears. I stand up in front of him and lean into him. It’s amazing how the scent and touch of someone you knew so well for so long can suddenly feel alien, can feel like the last thing you’ll ever need. I reach in and kiss him on the cheek.

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