Not Another Lonely Christmas

by Ellie R. Hunter

  “Am I slut?”

  She stops and gasps down at me.

  “Shut that mouth of yours, of course you’re not a slut. You’re entitled to enjoy time with a guy.”

  “Okay, do I make it too easy for them to get what they want? I mean, did the guy even buy me a drink before he came back with me?”

  I’m ashamed to admit I’m having trouble remembering certain parts of the night.

  “What’s going on with you this morning? Did something happen last night you aren’t telling me about?”

  Sighing. I don’t hold back when I tell her what happened with the guy.

  “No, nothing like that. He literally left after finishing. His boxers are still here he left so fast.”

  “You’re joking?” she chuckles as her eyes widen in shock.

  “I’m deadly serious. Oh Gabs, why has no one romanced me? Am I not worth it?”

  “Oh, shut up, and stop putting yourself down. If you sit up and read through these messages, we can have a laugh at some of these ideas men have for you.”

  “They’re after the money, like you said,” I sigh.

  “Yes, but, like you said on your video. If they don’t make it feel genuine and sweep you off your feet, they don’t get anything. This could be the most fun we’ve had in such a long time, Rem.”

  Fun.

  I’ve had enough of fun, I want romance.

  She could be right, casting my eyes down the long list of messages, I pick one and open it up.

  Let’s see just how much fun this is going to be.

  Chapter Two

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Shut the hell up.

  Patting around for my phone, my hand lands on it and I throw it across the room.

  At first, I thought I was dreaming, then I thought it would shut up, neither happened and even now, as I hide under the sheets, my phone continues to beep, beep, fucking beep.

  Kicking the covers off, I regret it instantly and drag my robe on before the chill sets in and pull on my big soft socks. On the other side of the room is the thermostat and I pray the system doesn’t blow up this year. Every year as winter nears, without fail, something always goes wrong with the boiler. I should move, and I say that every year. I guess I have traditions.

  I crank the heating up and flick the switch on the kettle. I haven’t got the patience to wait for the coffee percolator to fill this morning.

  Filling the biggest mug I own with sugar, and the finest instant coffee I can afford, I cross the room and pick my phone up.

  There are more messages on Flipped. Do I dare open them this morning? The fifteen I read last night were weirdos wanting a hook-up and wanting to pay me! How is that romantic? I deleted the video I posted and logged off for the night.

  How are the notifications still coming through regardless? Leaning against the only radiator in the room, I scroll through more offers of sex, paid or free, and warm myself through as the heating comes on.

  The kettle comes to a boil, and I push away from the wall by the window and pour myself a coffee.

  The bitter drink assaults my throat and I relish in the delight. Gabriella’s name flashes across the screen as I return to the messages and I quickly answer.

  “Did you honestly think deleting the video would stop this quest for romance?”

  “Hello and good morning to you too,” I chuckle. “And yes, honestly I did. Why? What am I waking up to today?” I’m almost afraid to ask. I haven’t seen anything that will give me a heart attack.

  “I don’t know, you wouldn’t let me have your log in details, I just noticed you had deleted the video. It’s still circulating, Rem. Are you still getting messages?”

  “Yeah, they’re not stopping, I might have to shut down my account.”

  The more I think about it, the more I start to believe this is not a good idea. Luckily, no one is taking it seriously. I haven’t had one genuine offer and it just goes to prove I was right, romance is dead.

  Poof. It’s gone. Romance has disappeared, destined never to return.

  “Oh, come on, Rem. Don’t do that. Come into work today and I’ll help you work through your notifications, we’ll weed out the weirdos, you never know, the love of your life may be in your inbox.”

  I can hear the hope in her voice.

  “Fine, I’ll see you soon.”

  The call leaves me depressed and the loneliest I’ve been in a very long time. I can’t believe I was this stupid to post such a request, but I truly want to know romance hasn’t died a loveless death. I’ve never felt so torn. I wash and dress slowly, and take my time applying my makeup. I don’t wear a lot and brush out my hair. I’ve always loved my natural wavy hair. It’s the only thing that doesn’t cost a small fortune to maintain, plus I get discount on hair treatments at work.

  I work in a hairdressing salon, owned by Gabriella, and it’s a twenty-minute walk from where I live. It takes a little longer though as I stop for coffee. I push through the door and the first thing I hear is Gabriella shrieking.

  “Did you see your meltdown is being shared in the states?”

  Gulping hard, I struggle to breathe and not faint.

  “As in, America?”

  “Yeah,” Shelly, another stylist, giggles as she works on Doris’ blue rinse. “The one and only. You’re all over the world.”

  She’s far too excited about this for my liking. Her blonde curls bounce as she flaps around on my behalf.

  “I bloody better not be!”

  This time, I can’t breathe at all. I have nothing but coffee to bring up if I puke and Gabriella won’t be happy if I’m sick in front of the customers.

  Laughter fills the salon, but I’m not finding this funny. I’ve created a monster in everyone around me. My phone continues to buzz away in my jacket pocket. I put it on vibrate before I left home and it’s been going off every few minutes since.

  “I can’t do this, I’m shutting down my account.”

  “Pass me your phone, I’ll do it for you. I know how dense you are when it comes to settings.”

  I gratefully pass the technology over to my best friend and shrug out of my jacket, hanging it on the coat stand while she taps away sitting behind the reception desk.

  Gabriella opened this salon seven years ago with money left over from her grandmother’s inheritance. I was jealous to hell, but not over the money, I was jealous she had a grandmother to lose.

  I was one of the first stylists to apply to work a chair and we clicked straight off. She quickly became my best friend and technically, my first friend. I can’t imagine my life without her now.

  “There you go,” she smiles sweetly, passing my phone back.

  I shove it in my pocket and before I can sit down, it’s buzzing away. I never thought I’d wish it was a bullshit message from the phone company, it’s not, it’s a fucking notification from Flipped, alerting me to a message from someone called Jacob Evans.

  “What the hell, Gabs?”

  “He had a genuine offer for you, this is what you wanted so don’t look at me like that.”

  I smooth my face out and turn my back on her as I sit in my own chair. Today is my day off and I can’t believe this is where I find myself.

  I open the message and it’s a reply that I supposedly wrote to him. Fucking Gabriella.

  Jacob Evans is three years younger than me at twenty-six. He likes to read, spend time with his friends and family, he plays rugby and from his profile picture, he likes a beer down the pub.

  He promises he’ll romance me in a way that will ruin me for all time.

  ‘That’s big talk, you’ll have to prove it this Saturday. If my feet are still firmly on the ground when you’re done, you lose.’

  I hit send and press my lips together to stop myself from smiling. Am I happy? Am I going to freak because I’ve basically just set up a date with the sole goal of being as cheesy as possible? I have no flipping idea.

  Chucking the phone on the shelf, it nudges into the can
s of hairspray and I swallow hard when it goes off again.

  “So?”

  I spin in the chair and Gabriella and Shelly are both watching me closely, waiting expectantly for an update.

  “I told him to meet me this Saturday. If he doesn’t romance me, he loses.”

  “Oh my god, you have to go live again. Everyone will want to know you’ve got a date this weekend,” Shelly exclaims.

  “What?”

  I don’t think so, the last time I went live, I went viral and I’m now going on a date with a guy I messaged with for five minutes. I’m giving myself too much credit, it was two minutes of messaging.

  “Remi, you’ve always chased the romance, you’ve put yourself out there, throw caution to the wind and go with it. Who knows, this could change your life,” Gabriella says.

  “You don’t have to tell people where you’re going, just that you’re taking someone up on their offer. Keep them in the loop, that sort of thing,” Shelly adds.

  That seems fair. Giving myself a once over in the mirrors, I finger my hair at the roots and tidy up my under-eye eyeliner.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Picking up my phone, I open the Flipped app and start a live broadcast on my page. I’m going with it and hoping Gabriella’s advice pays off.

  “Hi, guys. So, as you’ve all seen, I got drunk the other night after a bad time with a one-night stand and offered twenty thousand pounds to the guy who can romance me. I’ve decided to meet with some guy called Jacob, I’m not sure what he has in mind and I don’t know if I’m excited or a nervous wreck at this point. I guess the next few days will show how I really feel. Okay, um, well, I guess I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.”

  I hit end and hide the phone in my lap. I don’t know why, no one can see me now.

  “I hope to god you’re right and there is someone out there for me.”

  I’m excited, and I’m nervous. Both together, the combination is intoxicating.

  Chapter Three

  What the bloody hell am I about to do today? I have bounced the idea of cancelling this date around a hundred times. The forecast is rain when I check the weather app on my phone and I hover over the message app to cancel the date. Just as I’m about to type my apologies, a message comes through from him, telling me to meet him at the Bar on the Water at two-thirty this afternoon. A date on the river? That’s new to me.

  I’ve walked by it many times and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go inside, but I never have. I don’t see how it could be romantic, it’s a bar, on a boat, on the river. I don’t even rate the river. I click on his profile to snoop on him, but it’s private. I search for him on every other social media site and come up empty.

  ‘Meet me for lunch. 12.30pm. Our usual place.’

  A text comes through from Gabriella and I sit up, careful to keep the sheets covering me. It’s brisk this morning and it reminds me to put more money away for the winter gas bill.

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  Our usual place is a quirky café fifteen minutes from my bedsit. It isn’t long before I’m showered and blow drying my hair.

  I sit on the floor, in front of my wardrobe and stare at every outfit I own. What do you wear when you’re going on a date with someone in the middle of the afternoon?

  I could go for a dress but it’s the afternoon and it’s not the right impression I want to make. I choose a pair of skinny jeans and my nicest, baby pink cashmere jumper with my knee-high boots. It’ll do, if the dress code was something different, he should have let me know.

  I still have hours to wait for lunch and my date with Jacob, so I drag out the Christmas box and unpack my four-foot tree and decorations. At least when I get home later, I can turn the lights on and adore the serenity they bring me.

  Gabriella has a coffee waiting for me and I slip into my chair and sip the delicious nectar. The liquid seeps into my tissues and fuels me, it’s the glue that binds our friendship.

  “You look nervous,” my best friend says, and I frown.

  “Do I?”

  I don’t feel nervous.

  “Yes.”

  Rubbing the space between my eyebrows, I try to erase the frown lines I suffer from and give up when I know they’re there permanently now.

  “Well, I feel fine. I don’t know if I’d say I’m excited but there is a part of me that is hoping I’ll be pleasantly surprised. I’m not nervous, I’m treating it like a blind date that you’ve set up.”

  “You never fail to shock me, Rem, and this would shock a lot of friends.”

  “It’s a good job you’re my friend then, isn’t it,” I smile and browse the menu.

  The waiter takes this as a sign I’m ready to order and as I don’t know what this afternoon date will bring, I order the steak and make sure to order an extra side of chunky chips. Gabriella orders her tiny portion of air mixed with salad and I roll my eyes.

  “And can I order the biggest steak you do with chips and no salad.”

  What?

  “Is someone joining us?”

  She keeps her mouth shut as the waiter takes our menus and leaves us to take our order to the kitchen. Her fiddling with her napkin is more important than answering me.

  My stomach starts to do tiny flips as she never keeps things from me, unless it’s not good news.

  “Michael, he’s joining us,” she finally says, and I relax.

  Michael is her ex and even though she’s told me why she broke it off with him, I have no idea why she broke up with him, that’s how ridiculous and confusing her decision was. Something to do with him being nice and holding the door open for her, it was some shit like that. Heaven forbid a guy should treat you with respect.

  The bell over the door chimes and he walks in, spots us and makes his way over. I’m surprised to see he’s rocking a beard these days, I mean, it suits him, and he looks good with one, but I never thought he’d follow the trend. He towers over everyone he passes, and it reminds me how small I’ve always felt around him. Although I’m confused as to why he’s here, it’s nice to see him.

  “I asked Michael to meet us here, that way we’ll have back up if Jacob Evans turns out to be a weirdo murderer.”

  I’m still confused.

  “We?”

  I wasn’t aware this was a ‘we’ date.

  “You’re not going alone!” she shrieks trying to keep her voice down.

  “It’s a date, Gabs. I’ve been on more than I care to admit, and you’ve never joined me before,” I point out.

  “You’ve never offered twenty grand before, he could do anything to you just to get his murderous paws on your money. Times are hard, Rem. People do anything for money.”

  My mouth opens to tell her this isn’t happening when Michael adds his own piece.

  “We won’t be joining you, we’ll stay back out of ear shot and observe. It won’t hurt for people to know you’re not alone.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I eye them both and give up. I know my best friend and I know Michael well enough to know they aren’t letting me do this alone.

  “Okay, but you stay back, I don’t want to see you or hear you,” I warn them.

  Gab’s grins like she’s won the lottery and Michael is busy calling out for a beer.

  While we wait for our food to be served, there are many things I notice. One of them being Michael is certainly not over Gabriella and I would bet all my savings that he’s only here for her today and not to keep me safe.

  She could ask him to jump off a cliff for her and he’d do it without question. Why can’t she see he’s the best thing that’s come into her life since I’ve known her? Another thing I’ve noticed, I’m not nervous at all. I could potentially meet the guy of my dreams and what a story it would be to tell our future grandchildren of how we met. I know he’s already good looking as I’ve seen his profile picture. Hopefully he has the charm and the gestures to match.

  “Why are you doing this, Rem?” Michael asks as ou
r food arrives.

  I smile at the waiter and thank him before unwrapping my cutlery from the napkin.

  “I mean, I have single friends I can set you up with. You don’t have to go this far?”

  Rolling my eyes, Jack Bennett comes to mind.

  “I want effort and the last time you set me up with one of your so-called friends, he stole thirty quid from my purse before he left without saying goodbye.”

  “I got it back for you, didn’t I?” he shoots back.

  Shoving a chunky chip in my mouth, I refrain from biting his head off because he did get it back for me and I never saw Jack again when all the friends got together on a night out.

  Throughout lunch, he doesn’t offer to set me up with anymore friends, choosing instead to keep sneaking glances at Gabriella while she eats and seems content thinking over whatever is playing on her mind.

  In fact, lunch is the quietest time I’ve spent with the pair and it allows me too much time to think.

  “There has to be someone out there with more to offer than his dick,” I blurt out.

  Michael chokes on the last of his beer and Gabriella smiles at the both of us. Placing my share of the bill on the small plate, I stand and shrug into my jacket and wrap my scarf around my neck. Nerves begin to build in my lower stomach and I regret not having another wine.

  Chapter Four

  I recognise him waiting by the river edge from his social media photo. He looks stylish and polished. His hair is a blend of dark and light, and his tall frame looks like he’ll tower over me. So far, I’m liking what I see based on first impressions.

  “Hold on, remember we’re here if he turns out to be a freak,” Michael offers, and I smile, knowing it won’t be that bad.

  “I hope I have enough battery, I didn’t think before, it makes perfect sense now we’re here.”

  Gabriella is rambling, and I ignore her until she pulls her phone out of her bag and starts pointing it in my direction.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, curiously.