Christmas and Other Things I Hate

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Christmas and Other Things I Hate Page 5

by Elizabeth McGivern


  When we got back to the flat we were greeted with the three Scottish guys who were cooking up a giant breakfast in the tiny kitchen.

  They were all rather large and imposing so it was a surprise that they all fitted into the space.

  Without the panic of finding Helen hanging over us, we finally managed to introduce ourselves.

  Alec, Charlie and Broden were brothers and they had been planning their trip to Dublin for the last year.

  They all worked in different parts of the UK but every Christmas they picked a city to spend the week in.

  It was sweet and they seemed to genuinely like each other. It wasn’t hard to see a family resemblance but it was obvious that Broden was the oldest because he fussed around the other two like a parent.

  “Sorry about the drama,” said Helen, “a miscommunication with Jane.”

  “It’s grand, Alec was about twenty seconds away from phoning the police,” said Charlie, “You should have seen him fussing about here like a headless chicken.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” replied Alec, “you were the one saying you should have gone with ‘the fit girl’.”

  “Aye, to try my luck with her not to help her.”

  They all laughed but I just smiled and tried to hide my blush.

  “Will you two shut it,” interrupted Broden, “You’re embarrassing her.”

  “It’s fine,” I lied.

  “It’s not bloody fine, I’ll slap some manners into them if ye like?” he added with a wink.

  I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I didn’t much like being the centre of attention at this particular moment in time so I excused myself and went to hide in the bathroom.

  I ran my hands under the cold water to get the heat from my cheeks to cool down – an old trick I’d learned from years of blushing bright red when any boy tried to talk to me.

  For the first two months of our relationship Lucas thought I just always looked like I’d been on a run.

  I dried my hands and went back to face them all but was surprised to find Helen waiting outside the bathroom door.

  “I’m ready when you are,” she said.

  I looked for her bags but realised there were none.

  “Well, I will be once I get my toothbrush from the bathroom,” she explained.

  “Is that it? What about your bag from London?” I asked.

  “The clothes in that are stinking and I figure if I’m only around for one more day, then I don’t really need much, do I?”

  “You will need a whole new wardrobe when you decide to have a long life with me. Well, not with me, just with me hanging around.”

  I could feel the colour in my cheeks rise again.

  “This is the second time you’ve propositioned me,” she said, “You’re not my type. I like red-heads with Scottish accents.”

  She raised her eyebrows and flashed me a devilish grin.

  “I’m not propositioning you, you’re not my type either. I’m much more of an Easter person. You could put that on your list though.”

  “List?”

  “Reasons to live. Number one: you live in a world where red heads with Scottish accents exist and Alec looks like he has a hint of ginger about him.”

  I moved past her and went back into the living room determined to keep my cool and not let them embarrass me any further.

  “Sorry for making you blush, Jane,” said Charlie.

  “Oh, that? It’s just allergies.”

  “Allergies?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m just allergic to the sheer amount of tinsel in this flat,” I replied.

  “More like she’s allergic to that stink wafting from you, Charlie,” interrupted Broden, “If that’s your cologne for the week then I think you need to find alternative accommodation. I can’t spend a week with that. It’s like an assault on my nose.”

  The conversation continued like that until the insults turned into playful punches. It was like watching puppies.

  Eventually I had to call order in case they started to knock into one of the three trees.

  They stopped as soon as they heard my voice and apologised once more.

  “I promise we don’t normally go on like this,” said Alec, “This is the longest we get to spend with each other and I guess we just revert back to being teenagers.”

  The other brothers nodded in agreement.

  “We’re going to hit the road and let you three enjoy your week, sorry for gate-crashing.”

  “Not at all,” said Broden, “It was a pleasure to meet you both. Helen, will we just leave the keys here when we’re leaving?”

  Helen looked shocked, by the look on her face she hadn’t thought about where or what she was going to do beyond this morning.

  “I guess,” she replied with a shrug.

  “You’re the most relaxed landlady we’ve met,” he said, “If you’re both staying around Dublin, we could all meet for a drink some night?”

  “No can do, bud, we’re heading to Cork and I got big plans tomorrow so it’ll keep me pretty permanently busy,” said Helen.

  Broden looked slightly confused by her answer but instead of questioning her further he smiled said, “Merry Christmas.”

  We left them to their brotherly bonding and headed towards my car.

  “Broden is cute,” I said, “Maybe you could meet up with him over the holidays?”

  “One more day, Jane, and I get control of the music on the drive.”

  Our first stop was at the petrol station to fill the tank and I cursed myself for not trying to extort more money out of the brothers for food. My stomach was rumbling and my mouth was dry.

  I resolved to get us to my parents as quickly as possible so I could stuff my face. One of the good things about going home was feeling certain that my mother would have enough food to feed 500 people.

  When I went into pay for the petrol I saw Helen chatting animatedly to another woman in the shop. The other woman patted Helen on the shoulder and then I watched as she took out her purse and handed her cash.

  Helen waited until the woman left the shop before she came over to me in the queue.

  “Bingo,” she said as she held up the €20 note, “What do you want to eat?”

  “Do you know that woman?”

  “Nope, never met her before in my life.”

  “And she gave you money because?”

  “Because I told her I was mugged and I needed money for petrol to get home to my family for Christmas. Precisely what I said would happen if we told people of our situation. People are much better than you give them credit for. Now we have money for snacks and you didn’t have to steal a baby.”

  The shop attendant looked panicked as I handed over the money for the petrol.

  “She’s joking,” I said, forcing a laugh out.

  Helen picked up as many packets of sweets as she could carry and placed them on the counter.

  “Don’t you think we should get something with even a little nutritional value?” I asked.

  “It’s my last day on the planet. I’m eating whatever I want.”

  Again, the shop attendant looked worried at everything that was coming out of Helen’s mouth, but I ignored it as best I could and frog-marched Helen out of the shop as quickly as possible.

  “Can you at least be aware that there are other people around and they can hear the bizarre things you’re saying?” I said, as we got back into the car.

  “Absolutely not, last day on -”

  “Yeah, yeah, last day on the planet; just try not to get me arrested for kidnapping please?”

  “Ok, deal, but for the rest of the day I’m going to say whatever I want and do so with the utmost honesty. It’s exciting.”

  I groaned at the thought of Helen being completely honest with my family. It would be an even more awkward experience if she started to tell them about her ending her life the next day.

  I followed the signs to get onto the motorway towards the next part of our journey together while Helen w
ailed along to the festive songs on the radio.

  The longer I drove, the more I got used to the sound of her tone-deaf warbling and it made me smile. I got lost in re-running the events of the last 24 hours and couldn’t quite believe everything that had happened. My brain still felt groggy from the brownies and I vowed never to try pot again.

  I wasn’t sure if getting involved with Helen was the best idea I’d ever had but if taking her to dinner with my parents kept her alive for another day then it couldn’t be the worst plan on the planet.

  “Stop!” shouted Helen, as we cruised down the motorway.

  I slammed my foot on the brakes, veered into the hard shoulder and narrowly avoided colliding with a pole at the side of the road.

  Helen jumped out of the car and I followed closely behind to find out what the commotion was about.

  “Are you crazy?” I screamed, “Who shouts like that out of nowhere? We could have crashed!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I really am, I just got so excited by the sign.”

  “What sign?”

  “That one,” she replied as she pointed at the large, hand-painted sign attached to a lamppost.

  It was for a Santa’s Grotto five miles away.

  “It says it’s the next turn off,” she said.

  “I can read, despite the whiplash,” I replied, “So what?”

  “Can we go?”

  “Are you being serious right now? You nearly caused a pile-up because you’ve some desperate need to see some bloke dressed up as Santa?”

  “Stop being so melodramatic,” she said, “There weren’t any cars behind us when we stopped and you were nowhere near that pole.”

  “Only because I’m an excellent driver and I’ve the reflexes of a cat.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes, I played netball in school.”

  Helen pulled off her shoe and threw it at me, hitting me squarely on the head.

  “What the hell was that for?” I asked as I picked up her shoe and threw it back to her.

  She caught it easily and said, “I was proving that you don’t have the reflexes of a cat. In my books, that was a successful experiment. Anyway, can we go see Santa?”

  “No we bloody can’t! I’m concussed and we’re nowhere near home yet.”

  “You said you would convince me that life was worth living and so far I’ve been the only positive person around here. That’s saying something coming from a woman who wants to end her life.”

  I let out a loud sigh. She was right, I wasn’t doing a great job of being the voice of positivity so I agreed to take her.

  “On one condition,” I added, “Answer a question.”

  “Shoot, I’m a pub quiz queen.”

  “Do you really want to die or do you feel obligated to because you think you’re going to be reunited in some made-up land with your mum?”

  “I’d prefer a general knowledge question.”

  “Answer the question with your self-imposed honesty and we can go see Santa.”

  She didn’t reply straight away and I watched as she searched for the answer within herself.

  “I don’t know,” she said, “It was all really clear and I felt happy knowing that I could take control and leave all this shit behind and just be with the one person that was always there for me again.”

  “It’s a pretty permanent solution to your problem, especially if you’re no longer certain anymore. Don’t you think?”

  “I said I’d answer one question, now take me to Santa.”

  She put her shoe back on and got into the car.

  I waited a few seconds and tried not to scream in frustration. Maybe I had it all wrong. I barely knew Helen and I didn’t know the full extent of her suffering, but this plan of hers seemed like a complete waste of a life and it was infuriating that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see that.

  All I knew was that I had a fight on my hands to convince her but that it wouldn’t be won with me screaming at her. I had to find another way of showing her.

  I got back into the driver’s seat and drove the five miles to the turn off for Santa’s grotto.

  “You realise we’ve no money to pay in,” I said as we drove up the long drive to a log cabin.

  “Leave that to me,” she said.

  I didn’t feel comforted by her answer, but parked none-the-less. The car park was surprisingly empty and then I realised that most people would be busy getting their last bits and pieces together instead of hanging around a tacky cabin.

  “There doesn’t look like there’s many here,” I observed.

  “Even better,” replied Helen, “No queues.”

  We walked up to the entrance and saw the ‘closed’ sign hanging from the door.

  “Are you kidding me?” she shouted, “Where the hell is he?”

  “Well, it’s Christmas Eve,” I replied, “He’s obviously in the North Pole getting ready for tonight.”

  Helen glared in my direction and banged on the door harder.

  Eventually a middle-aged man appeared at the door and unlocked it.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we’re here to see Santa,” said Helen.

  “I’m sorry, he’s gone back to the North Pole,” he replied with a laugh.

  “Told you,” I whispered.

  “Look, bud, I’m dying. It’s my dying wish to see Santa because I never got to see him when I was a little girl. Are you going to prevent me from completing my bucket list by not putting on a beard and a red suit and letting me sit on your lap?”

  The man looked from Helen to me and back again, clearly unsure as to how to respond.

  “Is she really dying?” he asked me.

  “That’s what she tells me.”

  “Ok, give me ten minutes.”

  He opened the door and gestured for us to sit down on the bench inside before he took off down the hallway.

  “Before you start, I didn’t technically lie,” said Helen.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “You don’t have to, I know you’re judging me.”

  “Nope, after the whole Jesus-napping debacle I have resigned myself to the fact that we’re both pretty terrible people who have a penchant for lying to get whatever we want.”

  “Is that what you think of me?”

  “Meh, maybe there’s a bit of hyperbole in there,” I said with a smile, “If I thought you were a terrible person, I wouldn’t be trying to get you to change your mind.”

  She seemed satisfied with that answer and we went back to waiting for the Christmas magic to begin.

  Without warning, the lights in the hall dimmed and Christmas music began to play over the speakers.

  I heard Helen let out a little squeak of excitement as she waited for Santa to appear.

  Instead, four daschunds with reindeer antlers attached to their heads came bounding down the hallway towards us.

  I dropped to the floor as soon as I saw them.

  Helen seemed amused at my complete transformation from festive cynic to gushing dog lover.

  “This is officially the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” I announced.

  “It’s a Christmas miracle,” she laughed.

  I happily let them jump all over me and lick my face while Helen stood back and laughed.

  “Ok, you’re adorable,” she said as she offered me a hand to help me off the ground.

  As suddenly as they appeared, they all took off back down the hallway to a waiting Santa who gave them a treat each.

  “Can we have the dogs back?” I called to Santa over the sound of the music.

  “These are reindeer,” he replied, “Follow me.”

  I don’t know what came over me, but as soon as he told us to follow him I felt like a kid again. I was filled with wonder and excitement and couldn’t wait to see what was around the corner.

  “Come on,” I urged and pulled Helen by the hand so we could find out together.

  She laughed and for a se
cond I forgot that my new friend was in pain.

  The next room was filled with fake snow. There was no sign of Santa but there was a sign telling us to make snow angels.

  “We’d better do as we’re told,” I said as I fell backwards onto the mound of snow.

  Helen followed my lead and we both spread our arms and legs as wide as we could marking out our angels.

  “This is much easier than real snow and we won’t get pneumonia,” I said.

  “True, but you can’t beat real snow.”

  As soon as the words came out of her mouth the air conditioning kicked in and made the temperature in the room drop. A flurry of fake snow started to come from the vents and it felt like we were sitting in our own life-size snow globe.

  I tried to pick up the snow and form it into a ball but it was too soft and kept falling out of my hands. Helen had the same idea but soon gave up when she realised it was futile.

  “That’s disappointing,” she said, “I was looking forward to seeing more of your cat-like reflexes.”

  We went back to lying in the snow and watching the flakes dance around the room. The lights were twinkling and I felt like I was in a Christmas story – not that I had any intention of ever admitting that to Helen.

  Eventually the door on the far side of the room clicked open and got our attention.

  “I guess it’s time to go,” she said as she pulled me onto my feet.

  I took a second longer than I should have as I looked at her face. Her smile was so genuine that it made my heart hurt a little.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Don’t go,” I said, “I can’t just pretend that everything is ok and we’re just on this random adventure together, I just can’t. I don’t believe that you want to die; I think you just got this idea into your head and now you think you can’t back out of it, but you can, you can stay.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she replied.

  “You and your bloody deals. I’m sick of negotiating with you.”

  “If you just forget about tomorrow and stop worrying about what I may or may not have planned and enjoy yourself, I promise not to make any firm decisions without telling you.

  “I won’t just walk out of your parents’ house at midnight and disappear. I will give this idea of yours a proper chance.”

 

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