Читать книгу The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime: The perfect feel-good Christmas romance! - Lynsey James - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Of all the books on grief I’d read in the last three years, none of them advocated buying Christmas presents for your lost loved one.

Yet, earlier, at Fox’s department store, that was exactly what I had done.

As soon as I stepped inside my cosy little cottage, shrugging off the wintry nip from outside, I made a beeline for my bedroom. Underneath my bed was a small box, no bigger than a shoebox. It was battered and worn from being moved around and shoved into corners so many times, but for me it held a collection of special memories far too precious to throw away. I pulled it out and sat down on my bed with it, taking off the scuffed lid as carefully as I could.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked at the box’s contents for the first time in what felt like for ever. Nestled inside the battered old shoebox was three years’ worth of Christmas presents, birthday gifts and odd little souvenirs. A bottle of aftershave, a programme from his favourite theatre production signed by the cast, his favourite red T-shirt, which still held the faintest traces of his smell.

It was all for him.

I retrieved the little Rubik’s cube I’d bought earlier from my pocket and added it to the collection, allowing myself a smile. Jamie had always loved puzzles and prided himself on his ability to complete the New York Times crossword in twenty minutes flat. Every morning, he’d sit on the terrace of the apartment we shared, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by his side, and do battle with the cryptic clues. I closed my eyes and pictured his brow furrowing, the pen sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated and the look of euphoria when the answer finally became clear.

For the briefest of moments, I could almost hear the noise and drama of New York City. There was the bustle of people walking the famous sidewalks, each heading in their own direction, taxi cabs beeping their horns at drivers that got in their way and the inimitable buzz that could only be found in the city that never slept. Being part of such a vibrant place had been a dream come true; the city had been a living, breathing entity itself, where anything seemed possible. Until one rainy morning when everything changed…

I shook myself back to the present; thinking of New York was not a good idea. Instead, I closed the box and shoved it back in its hiding place, satisfied I’d done my bit to include Jamie in this year’s Christmas celebrations.

If only he was around to take part in them himself.

*

The next day thankfully didn’t involve dressing up in an elf costume, but it did involve lunch with my mother. Which, in some ways, was a lot more stressful.

‘Has your agent phoned you with any new roles yet?’ she asked as we sat over tea and cakes in the Moonlight Café, Luna Bay’s best eatery. ‘It’s been a while since you’ve heard from her, hasn’t it? Oh, and are you eating properly? You’ve barely touched your cake.’

I groaned and shook my head. My mum meant well, but was permanently worried about me. It was as though I was made out of glass and she thought I’d shatter any minute.

‘No, Mum, Anna hasn’t phoned me for a while because I’m still on a break from acting. Don’t know if I’ll ever go back to it, to be honest. And yes, I’m still eating properly; nothing’s changed since you asked me the other day!’ I smiled and broke off a piece of red velvet cake with my fork, before popping it into my mouth.

Mum tutted and placed her hand on top of mine. ‘Alice, it’s been three years since the accident…’ At the mention of the word “accident”, I flinched and she drew her hand away. ‘Don’t you think it’s time you went back to acting? I’m not saying you have to get on a plane back to New York and star in a Broadway show, or even do something on the West End. You could get involved with the panto at the Silver Bells Theatre; I’m sure they could use someone like you to help out. It’s usually a complete shambles, isn’t it? It could even be part of “moving-on action plan” or whatever it was that the grief counsellor gave you. You’ve done pretty well with it so far; you got that job at Fox’s didn’t you?’

I sighed. ‘That was more because my savings are running out and I wouldn’t be able to afford Christmas presents without a job! The grief counsellor meant well, Mum, but she made moving on sound…I don’t know…easy. You can’t break down forgetting the man you’re in love with into twelve steps, can you?’

‘Nobody’s saying it has to take twelve steps, or fifteen, or seventy-five,’ said Mum. ‘But I think you should start by giving the panto a try. You’d probably have a lot of fun.’

I paused, fork raised, to try and think of a sensible excuse why I couldn’t do the pantomime. Somehow I didn’t think ‘I never plan on going near a stage again as long as I live’ would cut it.

‘Look, Mum, I appreciate your ideas but I don’t think I’d be any good in the pantomime. I haven’t acted for ages and, like you said, the panto’s always a total disaster. Didn’t the sets fall down last time or something? Nah, I think I’ll stay well away from the Silver Bells Theatre and their panto!’

Her face fell as she turned her attentions back to her slice of Victoria sponge. ‘That’s a pity; you’re a natural on stage, darling, and it’d be lovely to see you back doing something you love. Plus it’d wipe the smug grin off Christabel Grant’s face if you got involved. You’d act circles round her!’

I almost choked on my mouthful of cake; my mum was usually really easy-going and never got worked up about anyone. However, there was something about Luna Bay’s resident drama queen that seemed to really wind her up.

‘The last thing I need is Christabel making me public enemy number one,’ I replied, pouring myself some more tea. ‘Besides, I’ve got more than enough to keep me busy just now: I’ve got my job at Fox’s and…’

I trailed off when I realised I didn’t have anything else to add to my list. A furious crimson blush crept onto my cheeks and neck and I had to flip my hair over my face to hide it.

Mum raised her eyebrows in that way mums always do when they know they’re right. I could feel one of her speeches coming on and as soon as she opened her mouth, my suspicions were proven right.

‘You’ve got a job where you have to wear big pointy ears and a hat till Christmas Eve. What happens after that? You need to get your life back, Alice; I know what happened to Jamie knocked you for six and that you didn’t plan on being back in Luna Bay, but you are and it’s time to start living again. What happened to the Breakfast Club at Sunflower Cottage you went to a few times? You seemed to really enjoy that. Maybe if—’

I held up a hand to stop her. ‘I haven’t had time to go to the Breakfast Club recently because of the job at Fox’s. I don’t know what’ll happen when it’s over, but I’ll figure it out. It’s not ideal and I hate the pointy ears, but it’s a job. As for my life, I’m happy the way I am, Mum. So please, stop worrying about me for five seconds.’

I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m fine, really. I know you think I’m an emotional wreck who stays in my cottage all day crying over Jamie, but I promise you I’m not.’

Mum smiled and patted my hand. ‘I’d just like to see you get out there a bit more, that’s all. Why don’t you at least think about helping out with the pantomime? You might not have to go on the stage; maybe they need people backstage to help with the make-up or costume changes?’

Realising I wouldn’t get any peace unless I said yes, I agreed to give it some thought. I had no intention of actually joining Christabel’s team of misfits, but promising to give it consideration was good enough for Mum. Luckily, before she could conscript me into any more of her hare-brained schemes, my phone rang.

‘Hello?’ I said.

‘Hi, Alice, it’s Gary from Fox’s. You couldn’t pick up an extra shift at the grotto today could you? Only one of our other elves phoned in sick.’

I felt my stomach drop to my shoes. The last thing I wanted to do was put on my garish outfit, pointy ears and massive shoes, and pretend to love Christmas on what should have been my day off. However, an out-of-work actress had to do what an out-of-work actress had to do.

I blew air out of my cheeks, screwed my eyes shut and reluctantly agreed. ‘No problem. When do you need me to come in?’

‘As soon as possible – we’re swamped today. Thanks, you’re the best!’

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to Lapland I go…

*

An hour later, I found myself in the heart of Fox’s department store, tinkling shoes and all. There were two extra-rosy pops of colour on my cheeks and a fake smile plastered to my face as I welcomed children to Santa’s grotto and wished them a merry Christmas.

Mum’s words rang in my ears: you need to get your life back, Alice; it’s time to start living again. My heart sank as I realised I didn’t know where to begin with getting my life back. Loneliness had become a way of life, a comfort blanket I’d wrapped myself in, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to unravel it. Still, it was impossible not to notice all the happy couples milling round the department store, picking out presents for their nearest and dearest, and not feel a pang of remorse. Once upon a time, that had been me. I’d had someone to share my life with, to hold my hand and laugh with me.

Now here I was, all alone. If the time ever came that I met someone else, would I even know how to be with them? I was so used to being on my own that I’d all but forgotten what being part of a couple was like.

A hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. It was Gary, the permanently harassed-looking manager of Fox’s department store. A thin film of sweat had formed on his brow already and he looked like he needed a good cup of tea and some Christmas cookies.

‘Alice, can I ask a favour?’ He was breathless and sounded like he’d just finished doing ten marathons back-to-back. ‘I’ve just had a look in the grotto and Frank’s running a bit low on presents. There are some more upstairs in my office; would you mind nipping up and getting some?’

‘Sure,’ I said with a smile.

I headed towards his office, glad of the opportunity to get off the shop floor for even a few minutes. As I walked, customers turned their heads to follow the sound of my jingling shoes.

‘Bloody things,’ I muttered. As a group of teenagers sniggered and pointed at me, I could’ve cheerfully shoved them where the sun didn’t shine.

Gary’s office was located up a set of metal steps at the back of the store. Its big glass windows allowed him to be king of all he surveyed, whilst also keeping him at a safe distance from the staff. Everybody knew he was afraid of them and would give into even the craziest demands. It felt a little surreal being in the manager’s office, like that somehow made me boss of the massive department store I’d found myself working in.

I jumped a little when I saw Mr Fox, the store’s owner, occupying the huge black leather executive chair. It was so unusual to see his tall, wiry frame around the shop; he hardly ever visited and when he did, it usually meant something bad was about to happen. He had his phone clamped to his ear and his face was set into a dark scowl. The conversation clearly wasn’t going well. I wanted to take a step forward and announce myself, but I didn’t want to intrude on his private phone call.

‘Ethan, when are you going to learn to…? This is your inheritance we’re talking about here; you need to start taking it seriously instead of prancing around with your head in the clouds… I won’t tell you again… Damn!’

Mr Fox hung up and slammed his mobile down on the table, letting out a grunt of frustration and a stream of expletives. As he blew air out from his cheeks, he swung the chair round in my direction and almost jumped out of his skin.

‘Sorry, I-I didn’t realise anyone was here.’ Two pops of colour bloomed on his cheeks and he flashed me a sheepish grin. ‘Can I help you with anything?’

I froze. My mouth moved up and down, making the shapes of words I wanted to say, but no sound came out. The longer it took for me to articulate myself, the redder my face became.

‘Um…I-I just came in to get some more presents for the grotto downstairs. A-are they over here?’ I gestured to some cardboard boxes in the corner.

‘Yes, yes, take as many as you like.’ Mr Fox waved a hand and picked up his mobile again. ‘Sorry…got to return this phone call…’

His voice drifted off as he dialled a number and waited for the person on the other end to answer. I heaved one box into my arms and beat as hasty a retreat as I could. The box weighed a ton; they’d obviously splashed the cash on the kids’ Christmas gifts.

‘Hello?’ I heard him say as I nudged the office door open with my foot. ‘Oh, Ethan’s in a meeting is he? Well, tell him to give his father a ring when he’s out of his meeting. If he can spare a few minutes, that is!’

I winced. Ethan was in some pretty hot water!

*

Making my way back downstairs was a dangerous business. I almost toppled over twice, thanks to the weight of the box. I had half a mind to ask Gary for danger money.

‘Here are some more presents for the kids,’ I said, heaving the box behind Frank’s red velvet throne. ‘Just so you don’t run out.’

‘Oh great,’ he slurred, ‘more crap to give to the ungrateful little shits!’

I suppressed a smile and pursed my lips. Luckily, we were experiencing a lull in visitors to the grotto, so nobody was around to hear him or see him with his beard pulled down.

I screwed my nose up as the acrid tang of stale sweat and alcohol stung my nostrils. ‘Are you…feeling OK today, Frank? You know, after yesterday.’

He turned to look at me and I noticed for the first time just how unkempt he looked. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept properly for weeks, and his chin was covered in grey and white stubble. Not exactly the image of a jolly department store Santa.

‘Oh I’m just dandy.’ His mouth twisted into a scowl and he let out a loud burp. ‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year, isn’t it?’

There was a sadness in his voice that struck me. Instead of being swept up in the festive spirit, he seemed to be every bit as uncomfortable with it as I was.

‘Well, that’s what they say!’ I plastered a bright grin to my face, determined to keep a cheerful atmosphere for the hordes of kids who’d be along as soon as school finished. ‘Anyway, don’t forget about the presents in the cardboard box behind you.’

I mumbled some excuse about Gary needing me elsewhere and legged it before Frank could engage me in any awkward conversation. As I stood outside, willing finishing time to come round so I could get back to my own little corner of Christmas-free bliss, I wondered what it was that made Frank hate this time of year so much.

Had he lost someone he loved too?