The Christmas Party (14 page)

‘There’s something going on at Fossil,’ Josh confides. ‘I’m not sure what. But I’ve got the impression that Tyler Benson is going to have his hands full very soon.’

As long as his hands aren’t full of my bottom, then I’ll be happy.

‘How long have you been working for the company?’ I ask.

‘Eight years now. Some days it feels a lot longer.’ He refills both of our glasses. ‘I joined them as a salesman when I was a callow youth of twenty-five and not long out of university. I’m gradually working my way up the corporate ladder.’

‘Sounds like you’ve had quite a meteoric rise to me.’

‘I’m ambitious, Louise. I want to get to the top.’ He lowers his voice. ‘I wouldn’t say this to just anyone – well, no one really – but Tyler Benson’s job has my name on it.’

I do hope so. I’d rather work for Josh Wallace any day of the week. All those late nights might not seem so bad. And then I check myself. I haven’t had thoughts like this in years. When Mia’s dad left us, I swore that no other man would ever darken my door. My daughter is the focus of my life now. I could count on one hand the amount of dates I’ve had in the last four years and they were all fairly disastrous. And yet there’s something beguiling about Josh’s brand of understated charm. Where Tyler Benson is brash, loud, arrogant, Josh is just the opposite. He’s considered, he laughs readily but it’s not a hideous guffaw and, although he seems a confident man, I can’t help but feel that there’s an underlying vulnerability. I think he’d be a good boss. Fair. Plus he looks kind of cute in the yellow paper hat that came out of the Christmas cracker that we pulled together. It’s on lopsided and it makes him look very boyish. I resist the urge to straighten it.

‘What about you?’ he asks. ‘What did you do before joining Fossil?’

‘I was working in Boots, stacking shelves,’ I say honestly. No point in trying to make out I’m something I’m not. ‘Before that I was in a bank. When Mia was born, she was my priority. She’s four now, nearly five, and has started to go to school full-time, so it’s time for me to kick-start my career again.’ That sounds like I ever had one. ‘My mum and dad help me with childcare.’

‘Are they babysitting tonight? Or is she with your husband?’

I could pretend, at this moment, that there’s still a ‘Mr Louise’ on the scene. Josh seems to be making a play for me – but not in a creepy way like Tyler. In fact, it’s been so long since someone chatted me up, it feels quite nice. Do people still even say ‘chat up’? If I told him I was still in a relationship, that would certainly put paid to any ‘available’ vibe I might be giving out. But for some reason I want to be honest with him. If he is interested in me, then he’d better know up front what the score is. I come with baggage, with a capital B.

‘No husband. No partner. No nothing. Just me and Mia. And my parents, of course.’ He might as well get the full story. ‘They’re great. Which is just as well as they’ve got us both living at home with them now.’

‘Ah,’ he says. ‘That must be tough.’

Yes. No chance of coming back to my pad for a night of passion, Mr Wallace. Process that.

‘It works really well. I couldn’t manage without their help,’ I tell him. ‘But I still want to get my own place again. If I can.’

‘That’s the reason why this job is so important?’

‘Got it in one.’ I know I should keep this light, impersonal, but Josh is very easy to talk to. ‘My ex left me with a lot of debts too. It’s going to take a while to clear those.’

‘You’ll do it,’ he says. ‘I was in the same boat when my wife and I split. It took time, but I dug myself out of it.’

‘How long have you been divorced?’ I should have got the low-down on him from Karen. She’ll have done her homework. I bet she knows everything there is to know about Josh’s personal life.

‘We split up twelve months ago. Just before Christmas last year.’

‘That must have been awful.’

‘It wasn’t the best Christmas I’ve ever spent.’ He gives me a wry smile. ‘They say it’s the most difficult time of year for relationships. Doesn’t the divorce rate soar in January?’

‘What a depressing thought!’

‘Yeah. “Here’s your Christmas present, I’m off!”’

‘Do you have any children?’

‘No,’ he says sadly. ‘That was never really on the cards. Shame, really.’

‘I guess it’s for the best. In some ways.’

‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ He shrugs. ‘Still, life goes on, doesn’t it? She’s happy now. I guess that’s all that matters.’

The waitresses engulf us again and take away the plates before returning with Christmas pudding and great platters of mince pies. This is a sumptuous Christmas feast. More wine is brought to the table and glasses of champagne for the toast as, apparently, Lance Harvey is rumoured to be giving a big thank you address to the staff later on. Must be good news, if we’re raising our glasses with decent fizz. I’m only relieved that I’m not having to pay for any of these drinks. If it was left to my budget, I’d have made one glass of wine last all night. As it is, despite promising myself I’d stop at a couple of glasses, I’m drinking far more than I’d intended.

I think of my parents’ own, distinctly more modest Christmas celebration, which I look forward to every year. Their ritual hasn’t changed since I was a child and now I feel as if I’m passing it all on to Mia. I’m sure we’re the only household in Britain who still sit down together and watch the Queen’s speech. My dad gets positively delirious if it’s followed by a 1970s Bond film. I hope that, one day, I might have a marriage like theirs. One that’s unshakeable and grounded in shared simple pleasures.

‘What are you doing this year?’ I don’t know why I’m asking him this.

‘Nothing much,’ he says. ‘I’ve been so busy at work these last few months, I haven’t even thought about it. This is my Christmas dinner.’ He stares appreciatively at the brimming bowl of Christmas pudding in front of him. ‘It’ll probably be egg on toast for Christmas Day. If I remember to get some eggs in. And some bread.’

‘Ah, the bachelor lifestyle.’

‘It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ he says sadly. ‘I used to love coming home to Corrine and our little house. Unfortunately, she didn’t like me being away so often. That’s the cost of climbing higher. Every rung has a sacrifice attached to it.’

‘Surely she understood that?’

‘There’s no doubt Corrine wanted me to get on in life, but I don’t think either of us realised the toll it would take on our relationship. I was travelling all over the place. One day in Scotland, the next in Belgium, then back to Kent or somewhere. Sometimes, I didn’t even make it home for the weekend. I guess in the end she just got lonely.’

‘Did she leave you for someone else?’ Then I realise what I’ve said. ‘Sorry, that’s none of my business.’

‘It’s fine.’ He gives a laugh and there’s no bitterness in it. Perhaps he has moved on. ‘She went off with the bloke who used to deliver our organic fruit and veg box.’

I give him a sympathetic look. ‘I’m sure there must be a joke in there somewhere.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I don’t blame her. He’s a nice bloke. Homely. In a weird way, when she left, it made me more determined to go as far as I could at work. While I haven’t got any commitments – romantic or otherwise – I really want to push the envelope. The worst thing is going home to an empty house.’

‘I can sympathise with that. When Mia and I lived in our own place, once she’d gone to bed, I was on my own all the time.’ I think of the nights I spent just staring at the television, wondering how to break out of the rut we were in. ‘It can be lonely.’

‘Yeah. Life isn’t bad though. I’ve got so many plans for the future.’ He gives me a shy smile. ‘I just need to find someone who’s happy to come along for the ride.’

At that moment, Karen comes to the table. I’d intended to keep an eye out for her but, to my shame, I’d completely forgotten. Doesn’t look like she’s faring too badly though. She’s currently flanked by the two half-naked firemen and is giggling madly. Her cheeks are flushed and glowing. Her breasts, if possible, seem even more jiggly than they did earlier. I don’t know how her dress is managing to contain them.

‘Raffle tickets!’ she says. ‘There are some fab prizes.’ She leans against Josh as she waves her book of tickets at us. ‘I’m here to relieve you of your cash. A pound a strip.’

I search in my handbag for some money. ‘I’ll have one.’

One of the firemen holds out his bucket and I toss in my pound. She tears me off a strip of tickets and I note a steely look in her eye as she hands them over. It’s clear that she thinks I’m intruding on her territory. I hope she doesn’t realise that Josh actually moved her off this table.

‘I’ll give you a fiver,’ Josh says.

‘Men have to give a forfeit too,’ Karen tells him. ‘Hand over your bow tie and, later on, you have to pay a tenner to get it back.’

Josh shrugs his compliance. ‘OK.’ He goes to undo his bow tie, but can’t quite get it. ‘I’m all fingers and thumbs. Could you give me a hand, Louise?’

He offers me his throat and my fingers also fumble as I loosen it. As I move closer, I can smell his aftershave, musky and inviting. He has a strong throat, also inviting. I’d like to run my fingertips over the bit that dips just below his collar. Then I realise what I’m thinking and I cough to hide my discomfort, hurrying to undo the tie. ‘There you go.’

Josh slides it out from under his shirt collar and undoes the top button. ‘That feels better.’

His bow tie goes into the bucket held by the other fireman. There seem to be an awful lot of bow ties in there that all look identical. How will they know which one belongs to whom? I’d be a bit hacked off if I threw in a silk one and got polyester back. But maybe Karen has a foolproof plan.

‘Thank you, Josh,’ Karen simpers. ‘What about a dance later?’

‘I’m not much of a dancer,’ he says. ‘I’ll have to turn you down.’

Karen’s face doesn’t flicker. ‘I’ll
make
you dance with me, Josh Wallace. Just you wait and see.’

She waltzes away, chin up, chest out, the two beefy firemen in tow.

I turn to Josh. ‘I believe her.’

He laughs and there’s something in his eyes that warms me down to my toes. ‘I had hoped that my dance card was already full this evening.’

Chapter Sixteen

The next thing Kirsten knew was that Tyler was grabbing her by the hand. ‘Let’s get this party started!’ he declared.

‘Not yet, Tyler. Let the dance floor fill up a bit.’

‘Noooo,’ he said. ‘We should show these youngsters what we’ve got.’

Despite her obvious reluctance, he pulled her on to the dance floor with him.

The Christmas dinner was finished and now some of the employees were relaxing back in their seats with coffee while the more exuberant were already up and dancing to the band, who were playing lively covers of current hits. Some of the staff had headed straight to the casino that had been set up for the evening.

While the white floor beneath their feet pulsated with light, Tyler shimmied in front of her. Kirsten didn’t really feel like dancing. The small amount of dinner she had managed to eat was sitting like a lead ball in her stomach and there was a headache blooming behind her eyes. The strobe lights were doing little to help. But she’d promised herself that she’d try to be the life and soul of the party tonight, remind Tyler that they could still have fun together. So she duly smiled and shimmied back.

A part of her also wanted to show Simon Conway that she was having a great time. She didn’t want him to see her feeling vulnerable and unloved. He was standing out of the disco lights on the far side of the dance floor, but she could feel his eyes on her. It had taken all her concentration throughout dinner not to search him out and see who he was with.

‘Look at this.’ Her husband glanced down at his soup-stained shirt and the sheen of creamed potatoes adorning the front of his trousers, and tsked. ‘I look like a walking menu. Someone will be getting a dry-cleaning bill.’

‘It was an accident,’ Kirsten soothed. ‘Don’t let it spoil the evening.’ Then she realised that Tyler had yet to see Simon at the party and knew that a bit of spilled food would soon pale into insignificance.

Jerry Oakley from Human Resources – someone Kirsten did know – and his wife, Sheila, were strutting their funky stuff next to her and Tyler. They exchanged pleasantries but it was hard to hear anyone speak above the band. The song was ‘YMCA’ and they were doing the motions enthusiastically. Jerry was grinning widely and, clearly unused to such exertion, dabbing his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. He looked like he was in a Turkish bath rather than an extravagantly festive marquee.

Lance and Melissa danced on the other side of the Oakleys. She still hadn’t managed to have a chat with Melissa. All the fuss at dinner had made it impossible.

She did like Melissa. Or could do, given the chance. Even though she must be in her mid-fifties now, Melissa looked great for her age. Her auburn hair shone and her green eyes sparkled. Her figure was lean and toned, which showed an enthusiasm for the gym, or good-quality shapewear. She hung on Lance’s every word and laughed daintily at his silly jokes. She’d been with Lance for years and yet still looked like a woman in love. What was her secret?

Kirsten would like to bet there wasn’t the constant bickering in her home that characterised the Benson residence. She regarded Melissa with growing envy. If only she could be more like her. There was a woman who knew how to play the corporate game. She was always at these functions, loyal and steadfast, standing by Lance’s side. Melissa never looked as if she’d had to be dragged there screaming and kicking. Perhaps Melissa was a different kind of animal from her and actually enjoyed these things. It would help matters along considerably if she could be more like that. Perhaps later, when the evening quietened down, she could talk to Melissa and ask her how she managed. Maybe they could fix up that lunch date she’d thought about earlier. Lance drank too much, Kirsten knew that. And there were rumours that he had a wandering eye. Though you wouldn’t know to look at him as Lance, when he was sober, was so attentive to his wife. Perhaps he’d calmed down as he grew older. Kirsten wondered if Tyler would do the same. She hoped so.