“Don’t have brussels sprouts, that’s what I say,” says Nadine briskly. “Brussels sprouts can fuck off.”
“Christmas isn’t about sprouts,” says Craig seriously. His voice sounds so raspy and rock-star-ish, it’s like he’s quoting a lyric from a bad Christmas song, and I can’t help laughing.
“I keep telling myself that,” I agree. “None of the details really matter, do they? All that matters is that we have everyone gathered round the table. Friends. Family. That’s what Christmas is all about.”
“Here’s to that,” says Craig, raising his glass.
“Hear, hear,” agrees Luke.
“I couldn’t agree more,” says Nadine. And she sounds so warm and friendly, I find myself unbending toward her even more.
“We’ve adopted this motto,” I confide. “ ‘Whatever the Grinch can steal, that’s not Christmas.’ ”
“I like that,” says Craig, nodding sagely. “Yeah, I like that. Plus, you know, sprouts are rank.”
I can’t help giggling again, and Nadine pats my knee.
“You’ll get your Christmas with your family and friends, Becky,” she says soothingly. “Just make sure you enjoy the day too.”
Enjoy the day? I hadn’t even thought about enjoying it, just making sure it wasn’t a total catastrophe. But I smile at her and say, “Yes, I will, thanks.”
There’s a pause while we all munch some olives and Craig turns down the lights a little. I’m enjoying this, I realize. I’m starting to relax.
“And now…” He sits down on the sofa, stretching out his legs. He shoots a raised-eyebrows look at Nadine, then turns to Luke. “Well. You guys have probably guessed. There’s a bit of an…agenda tonight.”
At once I stiffen all over. Agenda?
Slowly, Craig leans forward, gazing seriously at Luke, and so does Nadine. The atmosphere is suddenly charged and my head starts prickling. It’s real. They’re coming on to us. I should never have relaxed; I should never have let down my guard….
“Agenda?” says Luke casually. “I thought this was a social engagement.”
“Yeah, well.” Craig laughs again. “You get into bed with someone, you want to know them socially first, don’t you?”
Get into bed. Oh God…
“I don’t know how open you are to this kind of thing…?” puts in Nadine huskily, swishing her hair back and looking at Luke directly. The light is shining on her lip gloss and her cleavage and her sheeny shirt, and she looks pretty spectacular.
My heart’s thudding frantically, but I don’t seem able to speak. I feel surreal. Also: What’s Luke going to say?
“I’m not, I’m afraid,” says Luke flatly, and I feel a whoosh of relief.
(I mean, obviously I knew he would say that.)
“Right,” says Nadine, without missing a beat. “That’s disappointing. But maybe we can persuade you to another view.”
“I learned a new word today,” I say, finding my voice. “Sprygge. It’s Norwegian. Sprygge.” I gaze desperately at Luke. “Sprygge!”
But no one even turns their head.
“I thought you were open-minded, Luke,” Nadine says huskily, leaning even farther toward him, her breasts gleaming. “And I’m going to be honest with you, OK? I really want this. I really want to pitch you.”
I stare at her, aghast. Pitch? What does that mean? Is “pitch” some weird sexual fetish slang I’ve never even—
Then my thoughts break off abruptly as I see the word “pitch” on a printed-out document at Nadine’s feet, half under the sofa.
Hang on. Pitch as in…pitch?
OK, wait, what is going on here?
“I can give you advice,” Luke is saying smoothly to Nadine. “But I’m not an investor.”
“You’ve got funds, though,” says Nadine, batting her eyelids at him. “You’ve got a company that could expand. You’ve got the experience; I’ve got the talent.”
“You want money?” I say in astonishment, and Nadine swivels her head, looking annoyed.
“I want a partnership,” she says. “It’s not about money; it’s about meshing talent and ideas. It’s about channeling my energy and drive into greater pathways.” Then her eyes narrow at me. “What did you think I wanted?”
“Sex!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
There’s a startled silence. Craig’s eyes have widened. Luke has turned to look at me with an expression I’m too flustered to read.
“Sex?” says Nadine at last. She’s staring at me with such an amused gaze, I feel nettled. She needn’t act like I’m a moron for even thinking it.
“My friend read online that you’re into sex parties,” I say defensively to Craig. “In Moscow and stuff. Threesomes and…things.” If Nadine didn’t know about the sex parties in Moscow, then too bad. Welcome to the sisterhood.
But she doesn’t even flicker. In fact, she rolls her eyes impatiently, as though I’m distracting her from the task at hand.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re into that.” Craig shrugs, as though he’s saying he likes a bit of golf at the weekends. “But that’s not what tonight is about.”
“What we get up to is our own affair,” says Nadine, a bit snippily. “But if you think that’s why we invited you—” She breaks off and runs her eyes over my high-necked top as though enjoying a private joke. “Let’s say…you’re not the type.”
Not the type? At once I feel offended to my core. They’re rejecting us? On what grounds? Why aren’t I the type?
“I’m brilliant in bed,” I retort indignantly. “And Luke’s even better!”
“Sweetheart,” says Luke, his mouth twitching, “thanks for the recommendation. But…too much information? It’s been a great evening,” he continues politely, putting his wineglass down. “And thank you both. But maybe—”
“You’re not leaving?” Nadine’s voice has tightened. “You’re not even giving me a chance! Why do you think—” She stops herself midstream and smiles again. “I’ve got the pitch ready. I’ve prepared it all. I think I deserve this opportunity.”
I glance at Luke and I can tell he feels a bit stuck.
“All right,” he says after a moment. “I’m happy to listen.”
“Let’s go next door,” says Nadine, getting to her feet and swishing her hair back. “I’ve got my presentation ready there. Why not bring your drink?” As she ushers Luke to a door behind us, she shoots me a sidelong glance. “Don’t worry, Becky, I won’t jump him.”
Ha bloody ha.
When Luke and Nadine have closed the door behind them, Craig pokes the fire, and it crackles a bit, and then we sit in silence. I feel unspeakably awkward—but Craig doesn’t seem to be awkward at all. In fact, he seems barely aware of my presence.
“How’s the music going?” I say at last. “Have you got any new songs you could play us?”
“What?” he says absently. “No, not really.”
“So…where are you going to travel to next? Any more weekends in Warsaw?”
“Not sure,” says Craig in the same distracted tone.
“So…er…what d’you think of the situation in Venezuela?” I try in desperation.
“Venezuela?” He looks blank.
How can he look blank? Venezuela’s, like, his specialist subject! I want to exclaim, “You used to bang on about Venezuela all the time! And you used to play the guitar all the time! And you used to be able to make conversation!” But I’m not sure he’d even hear me.
If Suze could see us, she’d have to take back everything she said. Sexual tension? Flirting? What a joke! He’s not even looking at me. Instead, he keeps glancing at the door behind which Luke and Nadine have disappeared and taking deep swigs of wine.
“Wonder how it’s going,” he says, his tone a little tense. “She’s so talented, Nadine. She deserves a
break, you know? She works so hard at her business plans. I say to her, ‘Babe, have a rest,’ but she won’t. She’s driven, you know? Driven.”
“She’s quite different from you,” I venture.
“Yeah. That’s what I admire.” Craig’s eyes shine. “She’s got her shit together. She’s got a plan. First woman I’ve ever met who had a plan.”
At once I want to object to this. I always had plenty of plans! He just never listened to them. But, actually, I’m a bit tired of talking to Craig. Once you get past the leather and the raspy voice, there’s not much to him.
“You want to watch telly?” he says suddenly, and I gape at him. This is the last straw. He’s invited us round for drinks and now he’s putting on the telly?
But I’m pretty bored sitting here, so why not?
He turns it on to a Christmas movie where a stressed-out city girl called Rae has got stuck in a gorgeous small town on Christmas Eve: all snow and hot chocolate and a handsome stubbled lumberjack called Chris. She’s just deciding to go in for the “best-decorated tree” competition and Chris is offering to help her chop down a tree…when the door opens and Nadine appears, followed by Luke.
I blink at them, still slightly lost in the Christmas movie world, and say, “Oh, hi. Have you finished?”
“As I say, Luke,” says Nadine, ignoring me, “there are plenty of other ways we could go. Believe you me, one of my strengths is being open to the future. All versions of the future. Because today is the future.”
“Absolutely,” says Luke in unreadable tones.
“So you’ll give me a call?”
“What do you think?” chimes in Craig eagerly. “She’s talented, isn’t she, Nadine?”
“Very much so.” Luke smiles politely at Craig. “But there’s a lot to think about. Maybe we should leave it there for now and pick up again in business hours.”
“I’m flexible on figures too,” Nadine adds quickly. “I should have made that clear….”
“Great,” says Luke. “That’s good to know.”
Craig has turned the sound down on the TV and is following this conversation intently, but I’m still half following the action onscreen. Rae and Chris are having a row. She’s brandishing the wood chopper at him as her hair blows around picturesquely in the wind. Why? What happened?
“Anyway,” says Luke, in a decisive voice which makes me come to, “it was great hearing about your ideas, Nadine, and thanks for the wine—delicious—but I think our babysitter needs to leave early, am I right, Becky?”
Ah. He wants to go.
Ooh, if we hurry, we can watch the rest of the Christmas movie at home!
“What about the hot tub?” protests Nadine. “We could carry on our conversation there, pour some more wine….”
“Yeah, you have to try the hot tub,” says Craig.
“I think we’ll pass,” says Luke, glancing at me. “Yes?”
No way am I ever getting in a hot tub with Nadine. So that’s a yes.
“That’s right,” I say, getting to my feet. “We’d better go, but thanks for a lovely time,” I add insincerely.
A lovely time. Pah. Listening to business pitches and watching TV and being told we don’t cut it as foursome partners? I’d rather just have gone to Pizza Express; at least we’d have got pizza.
This evening is the absolute opposite of what I expected. And the biggest disappointment is Craig. He’s gone from mesmerizing charmer to…blah.
We make our farewells and both Craig and Nadine say, “Thanks,” over and over to Luke and pump his hand, and Craig even gives him a long, heartfelt hug. (He doesn’t hug me, I notice.)
But soon enough we’re outside again, walking back through the village, with a bright moon overhead and owls hooting in the distance. The whole evening feels like a surreal dream.
“Weird,” says Luke at last.
“Weird,” I agree. “What did you think of her business pitch?”
“Awful,” says Luke, so definitively that I can’t help laughing. “It was painful. I still have no idea quite what her proposed business is, except that it involves Brandon Communications giving her large amounts of money and setting her up with a staff and a car.”
“Oh my God.” I can’t help giggling. “Did you say no?”
“I’ll say no when we talk again,” says Luke. “I really just wanted to cut her off. I’ll let her down lightly,” he adds in a kinder voice. “There are some people she could usefully talk to. I’ll make her a list, give her some contacts. I mean, kudos to her, wanting to pitch, but she needs some stronger ideas. She has a lot to learn.”
I squeeze his hand because that is so him—to want to help her anyway. How could Nadine not want to have sex with him? I think indignantly—then hastily amend my thoughts. Obviously, I wouldn’t want them to have sex. But still. She has zero taste.
As we near home, I pause underneath an overhanging holly bush and impulsively draw Luke into a long kiss. I know it should be mistletoe—but I don’t know where to find any. (I should carry my inflatable mistletoe wreath around with me.) Kissing in streets is sexy. It reminds me of when we first got together. We should kiss in streets more.
The mustache is still not ideal, hand on heart. But other than that, this is pretty perfect.
“I think we’re a hot couple, anyway,” I say at last, as we finally draw apart. “I would totally want to have sex with us.”
“Me too,” says Luke. “They lost out.” He tugs at the bow on my blouse. “Does this untie?”
“Might do.” I glint teasingly at him as he loosens the bow. All this thinking about foursomes has kind of got me going. As soon as Kay leaves, we’ll light some candles…pull up a sheepskin in front of the fire…put on a sexy playlist…mmm…
Oh, but what about the Christmas movie? I suddenly remember. What about Rae and the lumberjack? I have to know what happens—
No, it’s fine, we can get it with On Demand. God, technology is great.
CHATS
Suze & Bex
Suze
So??? Are you all tangled up in the hot tub with Craig and Nadine??!!
Bex
No!!! I’m watching a Christmas movie with Luke, actually.
Suze
Watching a Christmas movie?? What happened??
Bex
They didn’t want a threesome. Or a foursome. Or any kind of -some.
Suze
Really??? I swear I read Craig’s into that kind of stuff.
Bex
He is. They are. But not with us.
Bex
They said, “You’re not our type.”
Bex
Suze? Are you there????
Suze
Sorry. I was laughing so hard I dropped my phone.
Becky & Jess
Becky
Hi, Jess! Just wondering, will Tom definitely be back in England in time for Christmas??
Jess
Yes
Becky
Only he’s been away quite a while, hasn’t he?
Jess
Yes
Becky
That must be really hard for you.
Jess
Yes
Becky
Anyway, Suze and I wondered if you’d like to meet up sometime? Shall we go to Waste Not Foods? It’s a packaging-free shop with a vegan café! Doesn’t that sound perfect??!!
Jess
Yes
Becky
And you’re sure everything’s OK with you and Tom?
Jess
Yes
Becky
Because you can confide in me about anything, you know that?
Jess
Yes
Becky
So you and Tom really are OK???
Jess
YES
From: Tom Webster
To: Becky
Subject: FYI
Dear Becky,
Jess shared with me your recent WhatsApp exchange. Clearly you think we’ve got some sort of problem. I would like to let you know:
There is nothing wrong with our marriage.
To repeat:
THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH OUR MARRIAGE!!
Best,
Tom
From: Anders Halvorsen
To: Becky Brandon
Subject: Re: An exciting new word for your dictionary—“sprygge”!
Dear Mrs. Brandon, née Bloomwood:
Thank you for your email. I must admit, I found it confusing.
In answer to your question: No, I cannot put “sprygge” into the Norwegian National Dictionary. This word is unfamiliar to me.
I do not believe it has “passed into everyday Norwegian.” Nor is it “on the tip of everyone’s tongue these days.”
What exactly do you believe it means?
Yours sincerely,
Anders Halvorsen
Christmas Shopaholic Page 19