Read The Great Christmas Breakup Online

Authors: Geraldine Fonteroy

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BOOK: The Great Christmas Breakup
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‘Can you do that?’

‘Basic breach of contract case, baby. And I should know.
That’s what I’ve been doing after work all these months.
Studying like a lunatic.

If I thought too long about how I’d treated him, when he was trying to work full time and study, I would burst into tears. Again.

Instead, I said,
‘Oh, stop boasting, you Harvard-graduate lawyer, you.’

And then I kissed him.

Like I hadn’t kissed him for years.

 

CHAPTER FOURT
EEN

 

Boxing Day, December 26

 

‘Do what you can to make things better. Think of yourself second.’

Jocelyn Priestly

 

 

I GOT UP EARLY, AFTER
having the best sex (and only sex) I’d had in months, and flipped over the calendar. For once, Ms
Priestly didn’t have me reaching
for a sharp object. There was something that still needed to be done – although I was in two minds about whether to risk it.

Stuff it! Thanks to Lolly, I had some great shop windows in my portfolio, and the opportunity to expand my business, given Carson’s new job.

I owed her.

Telling Carson I would be back in time to make the journey to the depths of hell – otherwise known as his mother’s trailer park – I slid on some jeans and a jacket, grab
bed my coat, and raced down
stairs.

Hammertro was there, dragging
a Christmas tree through
the foyer
.

‘What are you doing?’

‘My life is over, I ain’t doin’ no celebrating.’

‘Cecily 2 said no?’

‘She isn’t answering my calls.’

Shame.

‘You did give U
ncle
Rabbit
the money for the boxes, didn’t you?’ Hammertro’s uncl
e had turned out to be unbelievably
handy when it came to window dressing.
He had a knack for finding solutions to difficult problems and
I now had his direct number, and promised to put more work his way.

If I ever got another job, that was.

‘Yeah. He was grateful.’

I had never seen the rapper so down.

‘Forget
about Cecily 2,’ I
told him. ‘She isn’t worth
a moment’s
second
thought, you know. I’m related to her, and I can’t think of one good thing to say about her.’

‘But she and me, we’re like soul mates. Like Bony and Clyde.’

‘Don’t you mean Bonnie and Clyde?’

In spite of himself, Hammertro grinned. ‘No, seexy momma, I don’t.

 

*

 

The Boxing Day Sales meant that the public transport system was stuffed with women intent on r
eturning the awful gifts well-meaning men had bought them,
and
swap
ping
them for something they
actually
wanted.

Two hours later, I walked through the door of
LollyBliss
,
only to find
Lolly wasn’t there.

Now’s your chance.

‘Where is she?’ I asked Lucinda, who was so frazzled
that
her usually perfect hair was slightly rumpled at the back.

‘Who knows? But it’s nearly eleven and I have the worst hangover.
I can’t even add up straight.

Should I? Dare I?

Then Lolly burst in with a bunch of
Chocolato
boxes.

‘Scar, hi! What are you doing here?’

‘I was worried about you, I thought I’d come and take you out for a coffee.’ I pointed at the boxes. ‘Fraternizing with the enemy? He hasn’t paid me, you know?’

‘They’re for me,’ Lucinda said, pulling open one of the gold-wrapped boxes and stuffing a couple of white chocolate bears into her mouth. ‘Lolly asked what I wanted for Christmas, and this is what I wanted.’

Before I could reply, Lucinda leaned over and kissed Lolly full on the lips.

‘No,’ I said, unable to stop myself.

Lolly grinned. ‘Who knew it?’

‘I only came to work here because I fancied her,’ Lucinda said, between mouthfuls of chocolate.

‘Amazing, congratulations you two!’

‘What’s with the chocolate?’ I whispered to Lolly, as we set off to have a good gossip.

‘Domestic bliss,’ she said, hugging me tightly. ‘And Carson told me all about his news too. Next year is going to be wonderful, Scar. I can feel it.’

And for once, I didn’t disagree.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long
for the gloss to wear off my new found a
ppreciation of Cecily.
My gift from the Teesons (‘we all chipped in, it was
very
expensive’)
was a
n
entire year’s membership to Weight Down.

When the gift brought a tear to my eye, literally, no one spoke for a good five minutes. Then Cecily 2’s husband smacked his hand down on the coffee table.

The glasses of beer jiggled festively.

‘This is
so pathetic,’ Rufus
exclaimed, the bald patch shining under the plastic, illumina
ted mistletoe
. ‘
When are you people
going to learn how to be polite to poor Scarlet?

Utter and complete
amazement oozed through the collective
consciousness
of
the Teeson family.

‘Um, it’s okay,’ I said, because Carson
was looking at me, imploringly, willing me to resolve the situation.

‘No, it isn’t!’ Rufus
stood up. ‘I am sick of you
,’ he waved an arm at his mother-in-law and wife, ‘being unjustifiably rude to poor Scarlet. She’s done nothing to deserve your contempt.’

‘What does contempt mean?’ asked Howie.

‘Dislike,’ J told him.

‘Does not,’ said Howie.

‘Does,’ said Jessie.

‘Shut up Rufus, no one cares what you think,’ Cecily 2 cackled, loudly of course.

R
ufus slowly and determinedly
gathered his coat and keys.

‘Where
in the fuck
are you going?’ Cecily cried. ‘We haven’t had the microwave Christmas pudding yet!’

‘Back to Canada,’ Rufus told her. He glanced at Howie. ‘The boy can visit me in the holidays. I’ll send him a ticket.’

‘Don’t
you dare leave this trailer park
, Rufus Teeson,’ Cecily screamed, unable to comprehend her Christmas was being ruined.

And all because of the evil gift she’d bought me.

But Rufus simply shot her Cecily 2’s favorite hand gesture and without another word,
was gone. 

‘Well!’ exclaimed Cecily.

‘Fucker,’ yelled Cecily 2.

After exactly one
minute (I was clock watching, praying for some change in the time/space continuum), Cecily slapped her hands together, as if wiping off someth
ing sticky, and said, ‘Never mind, m
ore turkey for us.’

It was at that point that I decided to make Hammertro’s Christmas wish come true.
The calendar had said to do something for someone else. Well, this was my good deed. Whether it would ultimately be good for my neighbor or sister-in-law (or me, for that matter), was a question I didn’t want to ask.

I texted Hammertro.

 

Cecily 2’s husband left her. Make your move!

 

Look on the bright side, I told myself.
If he moved in with Ceci
ly 2 and Howie, I might have neighbors who didn’t
composed 115 decibel rap tunes peppered with expletives.
He couldn’t do that and Cecily 2 at the same time, could he?

‘Scarlet’s mother is coming to stay again in the new year,’ Carson said, changing the subject.

‘Really?’ Cecily said, jealously. ‘Does she have nice pins, then?’

Trust Cecily to ask such an obtuse question.
I hadn’t seen Mum’s legs since
a
holiday in Cornwall about twenty years ago.

‘Not sure.’

‘Is she fat like you?’ Cecily 2 asked, seemingly over the abandonment by her husband already.

‘She’s very thin,’ Carson told them.

I grinned at him. Feeling guilty after inflicting so much trauma on Mum, the first thing we’d agreed to do
when Carson got paid at the end of January
was ship her back to NYC, to spend a lot longer with her grandchildren – and this time withou
t the trauma of my financial and relationship woes to deal with.

My phone
pinged
.

Must be Hammertro.

No.

Lolly.

 

Robert says he’ll pay.

 

Nothing more. What did it mean?

 

How come?
I texted back.

 

Lucinda’s dad is his banker. She
marched down there and
told him
her
daddy would cut off
Chocolato’s
line of credit if he didn’t.

 

Unbelievable.
Texting back I said we should meet for a debrief later that night.

 

Can’t. Bus
y. :)

 

Ah. I was so happy for Lolly
and although I fully expecte
d Lucinda’s father to be a man
of infl
uence, I had never imagined such
influence to ever
be of
help
to
me.

How strange life was.

Suddenly, Howie asked his mother if h
e could eat the last four chocolate Santa
s off the tree.

‘No, you’ve had yours,’ said Cecily.

‘Yes
,’ said Howie.

‘No
,’ said
Cecily
2.

‘Yes
,’ said Howie.

‘No
,’ said
Cecily
2.

‘Enough!’ roared Carson, letting go of my hand and taking up Howie so that his legs were dangling. ‘
Howie, i
f you persist in this behavior you will end up like them,’
he indicated his mother and sister, who
sat
together on the sofa,
looking
like
rejects from Jeremy Kyle.

‘If you w
ant to succeed and be a man, you
need to say yes. Yes to good food, yes to education and,’ he turned to me, ‘yes to the right woman.’

‘You mean that?’ I asked Carson.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You are all I want.
You always have been.

As we moved in for a soppy, cinema-style kiss, and
J
and Jessie
started up a slow clap, Howie pulled at Carson’s sleeve.

‘Uncle Carson?’

‘Yes Howie
?’

‘Do deep-fried Twix count as good food?’

 

THE END

Don’t forget to check out all the other Geraldine Fonteroy titles available onli
ne
including:

 

The Revenge Date

a
nd

The Shoplifting Mothers’ Club.

BOOK: The Great Christmas Breakup
8.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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