I Heart Christmas (30 page)

‘It’s not that I don’t think you can handle a baby,’ I said, trying to remain calm and measured and not just burst into tears. Yay, confrontation on a Sunday morning! ‘It’s more that I was worried that you hadn’t really thought about how having a baby would completely change your life.’

She dropped her spoon and let it clatter on the table, much to James’s dismay. ‘Are you serious? Do you think I’m dumb?’

‘A baby is for life, not just for Christmas?’ I offered.

‘I think that’s dogs, Ange,’ Lou whispered in my ear.

‘I know a baby is forever,’ Jenny said. ‘That’s why I want to do it now, before I get any older. How hard has this been for Erin? I don’t want to have to wreck my entire body by busting out a million kids when I’m forty. I want to be able to actually enjoy them.’

‘I totally get that,’ I replied, nodding. ‘It just seems like you’re going about it in a really difficult way. But yeah, you’re right, I’m not ready for kids so the idea of having to have one on my own, doing it as a single parent scares me absolutely shitless.’

‘I wouldn’t be on my own.’ She pointed at the desperately hungover thirty-something man who was currently groaning face first on the table beside her. He wrapped his arms over his head and sobbed.

‘Oh dear.’ Lou frowned and pretended to busy herself with her handbag.

‘You don’t think you want to wait a little while and see if you meet the man of your dreams before you get knocked up?’ I knew I was risking a slap but I had to ask.

‘Ooh, I think that happened in a film!’ Louisa’s head popped up, looking for confirmation. ‘In fact, I think it had Jennifer Lopez in it, you know, the other one.’

‘We don’t discuss her and we will not discuss that movie,’ Jenny declared. ‘Not all of us are as lucky as you, Angie. Not all of us will meet our soulmate.’

I opened my mouth but there weren’t actually any words waiting to come out.

‘Ever,’ Jenny added softly.

‘Oh, Jenny, don’t.’ Louisa reached across the table and squeezed Jenny’s hand. She was much braver than me. ‘That’s a silly thing to say.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘It’s a realistic thing to say. I’m not stupid, I’m cute, I’m successful, I’m freaking awesome in bed—’

‘All good to know,’ James mumbled from inside his protective arm shield.

‘But I’m still single.’ She gave James a look before turning back to the smug marrieds across the table. Well, that was me feeling adequately horrible. ‘Do you know how many awesome single women there are in New York City? So many. And so many are younger than me, hotter than me and prepared to settle for less than I am. So this seems like a good solution to my problem.’

She turned to look at James again.

‘Maybe it doesn’t look that great right now but really, when you think about the bigger picture …’

‘I know I can’t go back in time and take back what I said,’ I began, briefly wondering whether or not it would be possible to talk to the BBC about me becoming the new Dr Who, although they probably already had someone in mind. ‘But I can say new stuff and then we can just ignore all that horrible stuff, yeah?’

‘You have such a great command of the English language,’ Jenny said, resting her chin on her hand and staring at me. ‘It’s no wonder you’re a writer.’

‘I think we all said some things we didn’t mean,’ Louisa added, playing the peacekeeper as always. ‘And as much as I hate it, you were sort of right about me. I did need to call Tim.’

‘Did?’

‘I called him last night,’ she nodded. ‘Hence the dead phone battery.’

‘And?’

‘He says he’s not having an affair.’ I felt relief coming off her in waves, even if she didn’t seem ready to admit that she believed him. ‘And he wants me to come home.’

‘The asshole didn’t even realise you were out of the country for nearly a week! Let him sweat.’ Jenny fanned herself with her giant, laminated menu. ‘Is it hot in here?’

‘No,’ I told her, turning back to Lou. ‘What did you say?’

‘What else could I say?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got to go home sooner or later. Gracie needs her dad and, quite frankly, I need him too. I know I’ve had you two and Erin helped out so much but it’s just too hard to be out here on my own with her. I never thought I’d say this a week ago but I miss my life. I just want everything back how it was.’

‘So when are you going?’ I rocked the pushchair back and forth, trying not to look so upset. Of course she had to go home. Sniff.

‘Yeah, that’s a bit of a problem.’ She let out a tiny laugh and tapped a fingernail against the side of her teacup. ‘I looked at flights back home and they are extortionate over the next couple of days.’

‘You don’t say.’

‘Something about a Christmas rush, would you believe?’ she sighed. ‘So it looks like I have properly cocked up and might have to stay for Christmas. If you’ll have me?’

‘Of course I will,’ I said immediately. ‘Is Tim OK with it?’

‘Tim is not OK with it,’ she replied. ‘But we both messed up here. It’s actually really cheap if I fly on Christmas Day but I just can’t bring myself to put Grace on a plane to eat turkey off a plastic tray.’

I felt myself shudder and instinctively pulled the pushchair closer towards me.

‘That cannot happen.’ I was quite insistent. ‘We’ll sort it out. I’ll ask if we can get corporate rates at work or something, I know some people have done that.’

‘Doesn’t Tim work for a bank or something?’ Jenny, never one to understand the value of money, looked confused. ‘Aren’t you, like, loaded?’

‘Working for a bank doesn’t mean you’re loaded,’ Louisa explained awkwardly. Talking about money at the breakfast table was not something she was brought up to do. It was terribly gauche. ‘And we’ve mortgaged ourselves up the arse with the house. And, you know, I might have done some light credit card damage while I’ve been here. To three different credit cards. My mum’s going to go mental.’

‘You know you’re welcome to stay.’ I couldn’t imagine how much she was regretting spending five hundred dollars on leather shorts at that exact moment. ‘We’ll sort the spare room out.’

‘And Sadie won’t be back, you can still stay with me,’ Jenny added. ‘No more parties, I promise.’

‘Hmm, no impromptu parties once you’re on the baby train,’ Louisa replied, flicking her eyebrows skywards. ‘You’ll be too tired for them anyway.’

‘I’m too tired to live,’ she said, slumping onto James’s shoulder. ‘It’s good, though, right? Get all of this out of my system?’

‘I think I’m about to get everything I drank last night out of my system,’ James muttered. ‘I need more coffee.’

He was staring at his cutlery so hard I was worried he was trying to bend his spoon.

‘You all right there, Uri?’ I asked.

‘The trick is to realise that there is no spoon,’ Louisa added.

‘You really are going to make the best parents,’ I said. ‘This is going to be brilliant.’

‘I’m not about to take her in the back and knock her up after brunch,’ he replied. ‘There’s a lot to sort out.’

‘There’s a lot to sort out,’ Jenny echoed with a confident nod. But I could already see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. I just wasn’t sure whether it was in the entire plan or her most recent choice of baby daddy. ‘I’m too tired to fight, that doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed with you.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I was a dick. A baby isn’t the same as a handbag.’

‘A Birkin isn’t a handbag,’ she gasped, pressing her hands to her heart. ‘How many times do I have to tell you?’

‘You’re not helping your case here, Jen.’ Louisa frantically swiped a hand in front of her throat, signalling for Jenny to quit while she was ahead. ‘As someone who has already destroyed her own vagina squeezing one of the little monsters into this world, I would have to say, you probably really need to want it more than you want a handbag. Or a Birkin. Or anything.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ Jenny winced as the short order cook bellowed out an order behind us. ‘Just don’t be an asshole, Clark.’

‘I’m just trying to be supportive,’ I said, smiling at the waiter as he sloped over. ‘I can’t wait to hold your hand through all the antenatal classes. I’m totally going to tell people we’re a couple.’

‘No one would believe you, I’m way too hot for you,’ she said, kicking me under the table. And with a bruised ankle and a warm heart, I knew I was forgiven. ‘But I’ll think about it. You do buy the good coffee.’

‘Only the best for my love,’ I replied, kicking her back.

‘What’ll it be, gang?’ The ancient Italian waiter parked himself and his dodgy hip in front of our table and pulled an order pad out of his apron.

‘Hey, Scotty.’ Jenny gave him a tired smile.

‘I’m not Scotty,’ he replied gruffly. ‘How many times?’

‘Oh, Scotty,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘So many, many more.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Monday morning began the way all Monday mornings began, with me rushing around like a maniac, trying to dry my hair without waking Alex and still finding time to eat a very greasy egg and cheese sandwich. The only difference was that this Monday morning Alex had been AWOL when my alarm went off at seven in our new house. I would have called the police to report a kidnapping – he was incapable of getting out of bed before noon unless someone held a gun to his head – but it was my first official day on the job, the first Monday morning
sans
Mary, and I was determined to make a go of it. I found a note on the kitchen counter telling me he was going to be out all day and he’d be home for dinner. I frowned, read it again and set it back on the counter. He was just out. He almost certainly hadn’t left me a note in the kitchen and nicked off to another country on Christmas Eve. No one did things like that. Except me. And Louisa. But really, how likely was he to make it a triple? Ignoring the little voice that was doing a dance in the back of my mind and shouting ‘TOTALLY LIKELY’, I grabbed my satchel and ran out the door before I had time to overthink things. If I could turn around the Jenny/Louisa fiasco, surely I could manage to send one little weekly magazine to print without too much bother?

At eight a.m. I was the first in the office, which, as far as I was concerned, gave me carte blanche to start playing Mariah Carey very loudly as soon as I walked through the door. It was Christmas Eve and that meant that the season had officially begun and no one could bitch me out for it. The night before, Alex had agreed that my flashing reindeer nose jumper might be ‘a bit much’ for a busy day and that maybe I could save that for Christmas Day, possibly at home, but I wasn’t letting go of my festive spirit that easily. I was decked out in a gorgeous red and green striped cashmere sweater that I’d purchased for an obscene amount of money last time I stopped by J.Crew and a pair of high-waisted black shorts that Jenny had insisted I would never wear, and I was happy to have proved her wrong. Even if this was the first time they’d been out of the wardrobe since I bought them six months ago. Combined with black tights, little black Rag & Bone ankle boots and far too much mascara, I was really quite pleased with myself. Which immediately scared me to death. Because if that wasn’t a sure sign that things were about to go spectacularly badly, I didn’t know what was.

We always started early on Mondays, and because everyone wanted as much time off as possible over the holidays and possibly because they were a little bit worried about me being in charge (but not nearly as worried as I was), everyone had worked like a demon the week before to make sure press day ran as smoothly as possible. By nine, every desk in the office was occupied. Every desk except for one.

Jesse’s.

I’d had my eye on it ever since people started to wander in half an hour or so ago. He was usually one of the earliest around on Mondays – it was his time to shine after all. Without a managing editor, nothing got signed off. This time last week, he was on his third coffee and walking around the office looking over people’s shoulders with his red pen.

‘Hey, Megan,’ I shouted, as his desk neighbour wandered past my office. She spun round to look at me with a biscuit in her hand and fear in her eyes. ‘Have you seen Jesse?’

‘Oh, thank God,’ she breathed out, holding up the gingerbread man. ‘I thought these were a test and I was going to get fired.’

‘Really?’ I tried to forget that I had already eaten three.

‘I used to work at
Vogue
,’ she explained. ‘Jesse isn’t in yet. Do you think something happened?’

‘It’s not like him,’ I admitted, not wanting her to worry but worrying myself sick. ‘I’ll give him a call.’

‘Great. I’ll get started on the first pages anyway.’ She bit off the head of her gingerbread man. ‘Beauty should be with you in, like, half an hour.’

‘Brillbags,’ I said, picking up the phone and then doing absolutely nothing else. What was I going to say to him?
Hi, Jesse, just wondering when you were planning on getting your arse into the office, and, by the way, I still can’t believe you tried to lay one on me in the taxi the other night, you massive bell-end.
If only I had someone who could do awkward things for me that I did not wish to do for myself …

With the receiver still in my hand, I pressed the intercom button on my phone and waited.

‘Yes, boss?’

‘Cici.’ Every time I said her name a fairy died. Somewhere out there a fairy died. ‘Can you call Jesse Benson and find out where he is?’

‘Absolutely, boss,’ she replied.

I waited for her to call, watching from inside my office, eyes trained on my new assistant while I nibbled on a fingernail. It wasn’t nearly as tasty as a gingerbread man. Since I was shuffled away in a corner, or to be more accurate half a corner, as long as I kept my door open, I could see almost everyone. Of course, I wasn’t often allowed to keep my door open because my design sensibilities offended Mary. That and my singing voice.

‘Hello, Jesse?’ Cici said into the handset. ‘It’s Cici, Angela’s assistant? At
Gloss
? The magazine you’re supposed to work at?’

Ouch.

‘Oh really?’ she pulled a face and looked over at me with a little wave. ‘Well, that sounds awful. I can’t imagine how awful it must be to be ill at Christmas time.’