The Christmas Party (43 page)

When he hangs up, he turns to me. Now he’s ashen.

‘What?’ My heart is in my mouth. Perhaps Tyler has decided to charge Josh with assault, or sue us both or something. What a great Christmas present
that
would be. Whatever it is, I’m frightened by the look on his face. Whatever Lance Harvey has said to him, it’s clearly rocked Josh’s world. ‘Tell me. What’s wrong?’

It’s a moment or two before he can speak, and that worries me even more.

Eventually he blurts out, ‘I’ve been promoted.’

I take a step back. ‘What?’

Josh starts to laugh. He puts his hands to his head. ‘Tyler’s resigned and I’m now the new sales director of Fossil Oil.’ His laugh slips towards hysterical.

‘There must be some mistake.’

‘I don’t think so.’ He holds out the phone to me and plays the message again.

Sure enough, it’s Lance offering him the position of sales director, and he doesn’t sound like he’s joking. And why would he? Lance may be a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s a prankster. This does indeed sound deadly serious.

‘Can this be true? I’m not doubting your ability,’ I assure him, ‘but why’s Tyler resigned?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Josh says. ‘Something has clearly happened since we left the office.’

That’s an understatement.

‘I need to call Lance right away,’ he says.

The merry-go-round slows as he presses to return Lance’s call. It rings out as the current riders dismount. Mia is bouncing in her excitement, tugging on my hand. My mother is straightening her hair with her hand in preparation.

After a few seconds, Josh shrugs. ‘No reply.’

‘You’ll have to sort it out in the new year,’ I say.

‘Yeah.’ He still looks stunned.

‘Until then’ – I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly. He’s deserving of this, I’m sure. Out of all the executives I’ve met at Fossil, he seems to be the only man who has some sense of integrity. He’ll do a much better job than Tyler Benson any day – ‘congratulations!’

‘I guess so.’ He’s still perplexed by his good fortune.

‘Mum, Dad, Josh has been given a promotion. He’s going to be the new sales director of Fossil Oil.’

‘Well done, lad,’ Dad says, shaking his hand vigorously. ‘Very well done.’

‘How lovely,’ Mum says, indulging in more hair-patting. She couldn’t be more proud if she was his real mother. ‘We should open a bottle of Buck’s Fizz.’ It’s her celebration drink of choice as my dad gets it cheap with his staff discount in Marks & Spencer.

‘That means I’m going to be your boss,’ Simon points out.

‘Oh, yeah.’ That makes me frown.

‘At least you can consider yourself unsacked,’ he whispers to me.

‘It will be a pleasure to work for you.’

He keeps his voice low so that my parents can’t hear. ‘I don’t want it to affect our relationship.’

‘We’ll work something out,’ I assure him.

His eyes shine. ‘This is good news. More than I could have hoped for. The future looks bright for us, Louise.’

‘I really hope so.’ What a team we’ll make!

Goodness only knows what’s happened at Fossil in our wake, but I can’t wait to find out. Looks like we’ll have to be patient until after Christmas. Still, until then we’ll have plenty to be cheerful about.

Who knew that all this would have happened at the Christmas party? I thank my lucky stars that Dad woke me and I went along, otherwise I might have missed it. I may never have had the chance to meet Josh and we could have continued to be nothing but colleagues who exchanged pleasantries. Now I hope I’ve found a man who will be in our lives for good. It’s too soon to say, of course, but I have great hopes for this relationship. Together we could really go places. Someone with Josh’s ambition and talent could provide both me and Mia with a stable, comfortable life. I like the sound of that.

The pretty painted horses are all empty now. It looks as if they’re waiting just for us.

‘It’s our turn on the merry-go-round,’ I say.

‘Let’s climb on board then.’ Josh scoops Mia into his arms. He looks at us both with what I think is love in his eyes.

Josh takes my hand and helps me to step up as we take our places on the carousel.

Christmas
Day

Chapter Sixty-three

‘Promise you’ll hop on a plane and visit me soon, Mom.’ The voice coming from the laptop screen didn’t quite move in synchronisation with the mouth, but there were times when she was very grateful for Skype.

‘Of course I will, darling,’ Melissa said. She fought back a tear. ‘As soon as things are sorted out here.’

Drew wanted her to go out and stay with him at the orphanage in Nepal that he managed. He was desperate to see her, he’d said, and goodness only knew she was desperate to see her boys too.

‘We’re always grateful for an extra pair of hands, you know, and you’d adore the kids. They’re great. It’s very rewarding.’

It sounded exactly like the sort of thing she’d love to do. Something she’d never previously dared to try, for fear of leaving Lance alone for a few weeks. Now she had left him for good and could do whatever she liked. If she thought about that too much, it made her feel dizzy.

She still had the laptop from the business centre, and from the comfort of her room had Skyped both Drew and Kyle on Christmas morning. It was lunchtime for Drew, and he didn’t have long to talk. When he’d started there, a few years ago now, he’d introduced Christmas to the children of the orphanage and they celebrated it in the same way that they celebrated all the other Nepali festivals. She’d shipped an imitation Christmas tree and decorations to him that they put up every year.

Kyle was spending the winter season teaching snowboarding in Gstaad and hadn’t yet been to bed. That was down to partying. It had been lovely to talk to him and she must see him soon too.

‘I love you,’ she said to Drew. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your Christmas celebrations.’

‘You’re not going to be alone, Mom?’

‘No, no. You’re not to worry about me. I’m fine, really.’

On the screen, Drew looked sceptical.

‘I’ve been invited to have Christmas lunch with a friend.’

‘Have fun.’ He blew her a kiss and she returned it.

‘Happy Christmas, darling.’

‘You too, Mom. Love you.’ The screen went blank.

She sat in her room quietly, tears still prickling behind her eyes. That would definitely be her new year’s resolution, to see more of her boys.

Picking up her handbag and slipping on her coat, she left her room and caught the elevator down to the Long Gallery to wait.

She’d had a lovely dinner with Martin last night. True to her word, they’d ordered club sandwiches served in her suite, and it had been so nice. Despite her underlying sadness, they’d laughed so much together. He was very good company – funny and sharp-witted – and she wondered why it had taken her so long to realise that. He was an old-fashioned gentleman too, the type who opened doors and stood up until you were seated. Due to being a policeman and then doing a job that involved driving, he’d chosen not to drink alcohol either. It had been a refreshing change to eat dinner with someone who was still coherent by the end of it.

Today he was taking her to his daughter’s house in Kent to join the family for Christmas lunch. Although she was quite nervous about meeting them, she’d readily accepted his invitation as she had nowhere else to go, and no one should spend Christmas Day alone.

Yesterday afternoon she’d taken the decision not to return to America after all and had torn her e-ticket in half, throwing it into the waste bin. Now that she was on the verge of leaving, she realised how much she liked England. So much so that she thought she’d settle here permanently. A lot depended on Lance. She hoped he wouldn’t be difficult with her divorce settlement and they could sort out their financial affairs without too much argument. She felt she’d put as much as he had into Fossil Oil over the years and deserved a decent payout, but he could be stubborn when he wanted to. She thought he would have rung her again by now, tried to persuade her to come home. Especially as it was Christmas morning. But she’d heard nothing from him.

She hoped that meant he’d accepted her decision. She also hoped he wasn’t getting roaring drunk, but that was probably asking too much. The tears threatened again. Perhaps she should call him, see how he was faring. Thirty years together was a long time and Lance would no doubt be hurting. It had been a bad time to leave him, a terrible time. Yet if she hadn’t gone yesterday, she might never have left at all. She toyed with her phone, fingers hovering over Lance’s number. What would she say? ‘Sorry’ hardly seemed adequate.

The other person she wanted to call was Kirsten Benson. She wanted to confess to her about her affair with Tyler and apologise for all the hurt she’d caused. She felt sorry for Kirsten and that she should have been a friend to her. If only she’d reached out to Kirsten instead of Tyler, it could have saved them both a world of pain. However, that wasn’t the kind of call you could make on Christmas Day. Perhaps she and Tyler could mend their marriage. Or maybe Kirsten too would find the strength to leave her destructive relationship. Whichever way the cookie crumbled, she hoped they’d find a way to enjoy Christmas together. With a bit of festive magic you never could tell what would happen. Melissa would let the dust settle and then she’d contact her in the new year and try to make amends somehow. For now, she put her phone away.

Moments later, Martin came into the gallery. He was dressed in the same smart light-grey suit that he’d worn last night and she thought again how very dapper he looked.

‘Ready, Melissa? It’ll take us about an hour to drive to Maidstone.’

‘Are you absolutely sure your daughter doesn’t mind me being foisted on her and her family?’

‘Nonsense. She’s looking forward to meeting you.’

‘I don’t have gifts for them.’

‘That’s not what matters,’ he assured her.

‘I hate to turn up empty-handed. I’ll be sure to buy them a thank-you gift in the new year.’

Martin studied his shoes for a moment. ‘You’re still going to stay in England? I’m not going to have to rush to a plane later?’

She laughed. ‘No. I’m definitely staying here.’

He smiled. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘Though I did just promise Drew that I’d visit him out in Nepal. Maybe give him a hand for a couple of months at the orphanage he runs.’

‘That sounds like an excellent idea,’ he said with an approving nod. ‘Wouldn’t mind doing something like that myself.’

Taking her arm, Martin led her out of the Ritz and towards his car. It was a lovely car, a family saloon, not as ostentatious as the Bentley, which suited her just fine.

As he settled her in the front, fussing with her seatbelt, her phone rang. Lance. It must be. Her mouth went slightly dry as she fumbled her phone out of her handbag. She looked at the caller display. Tyler Benson. What could he possibly want?

She toyed with the idea of answering it, then changed her mind. Whatever Tyler was calling about, it wouldn’t be to wish her a happy Christmas. Maybe Lance had challenged him after reading the note she’d left. Well, she didn’t want Tyler to spoil her day now. He’d marred her happiness for long enough. She put her phone back in her handbag unanswered.

‘Nothing important?’ Martin asked.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all. Everything’s fine.’

He climbed into the car and pulled away from the hotel. She hoped Lance didn’t cancel her credit card, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to pay the bill for her stay. Still, that was the least of her worries.

Martin was such a sure-footed driver, and always had been, that she relaxed back in her seat and stared out at the pretty snowy landscape.

An hour later they pulled up outside a modest semi-detached home on a housing estate. Christmas lights blinked on and off on the front of it even though it was daylight.

‘Well,’ Martin said. ‘We’re here.’

‘I’m a little anxious.’

He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘No need. They’ll love you.’

They’d only just emerged from the car when the front door was flung open and two small children raced out.

‘Grandad!’

As they barrelled into him, Martin scooped them into his arms and spun them round.

‘Santa’s been,’ they told him breathlessly as he put them down again.

‘Let’s get inside and see what you’ve got then.’ He ushered Melissa forward. ‘This is my friend Melissa. She’s come to see how good you are.’

‘We’ve been told off already,’ the little girl admitted as she slipped her hand in his.

‘Come on in,’ Martin said.

Inside the door, his daughter was waiting to greet them. She threw her arms around him. ‘Happy Christmas, Dad.’

‘And to you, love.’ He turned to Melissa, who was hanging back. ‘This is Mrs Harvey – Melissa.’

‘I’m Julie,’ she said. ‘Happy Christmas, Melissa. It’s lovely that you could come.’

And Melissa, who wasn’t used to being hugged, relaxed into a warm embrace.

‘Let’s get you settled in and introduced to the rest of the gang,’ Julie said, and led the way into the living room.

Before they followed her, Martin turned to Melissa. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said.

She kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘Merry Christmas, Martin.’

Chapter Sixty-four

‘Christmas in St Lucia,’ Kirsten sighed. She turned on her bar stool to look at Simon. ‘Who’d have thought?’

‘We didn’t quite make it to the Seychelles, but at least we hit the same letter of the alphabet.’

‘I’m liking this new spontaneous lifestyle.’ One that isn’t dictated by Fossil Oil, she added silently.

‘We
are
only one day into it.’

‘I know, but I like to think that, now we’ve broken free from the shackles of corporate slavery, we can do it.’

Simon laughed at her. ‘We’ll do whatever you want. I promise you that.’

She sipped her Dirty Banana cocktail – a drink of ripe banana, crushed ice, coffee liqueur and rum, all smooshed up with icecream. It was creamy and sweet, like a banana milkshake but loaded with alcohol. It was the perfect drink for Christmas Day.

The small hut – Crazy Larry’s Lazy Bar – was open-air, thatched with palm leaves and facing on to a magnificent stretch of white sand. The Caribbean sky was cloudless, the turquoise sea sparkled invitingly. The bar was decked with fairly lights and there was a blow-up Santa hanging from the centre of the ceiling fan. Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ chimed out from tinny speakers. The temperature was way past eighty degrees.