Christmas Project, The

by Morrey, Maxine

  I tucked Kong in the front of my hoody where he liked to sit whilst I cleaned out his kennel. From there he watched everything that was going on, keeping nice and warm. I chatted away to him as I did my chores and he sat, listening contentedly. Today I told him about Sara’s engagement, that I hadn’t been seeing Calum as much as I’d hoped, and then I told him about my latest client, Michael O’Farrell, and the fact that I still couldn’t even begin to make him out.

  Several hours later, I’d cleaned all the kennels in my block, helped feed all the guests and played with a puppy for far too long before its new owner came to pick her up.

  ‘You look like that Stay Puft guy from Ghostbusters,’ Mark said, laughing as he wandered over.

  I pulled the scarf down that was currently tucked up to my nose.

  ‘You say the nicest things.’

  ‘I try.’

  ‘How many layers have you got on?’

  I paused a moment. ‘Four, I think.’

  He grinned.

  ‘Who you taking?’

  ‘Pete and Bonio.’

  ‘Good choice.’

  I smiled back and grabbed a couple of leads from the line of hooks on the wall.

  ‘See you later.’

  ‘See ya. Have fun.’

  I tucked a tennis ball in each pocket and snagged a ball flinger from the shelf. ‘That’s the plan.’

  With that I walked back in the direction of the kennels, collected my charges for the afternoon and set off for the fields adjoining the centre, a dog on each side of me. The snow had stopped for now and a watery sun was making a half-hearted attempt to shine through, even though it wasn’t that long until it was time for it to think about setting.

  ‘Right lads,’ I said, closing the gate behind me and bending down to unclip each lead. Both dogs waited, eager. Clearly these two knew who was the leader of the pack in this instance. Or maybe they just knew that I had tasty sausage pieces in my pocket.

  Dropping a tennis ball in the cup of the thrower, I flicked my arm back and then let the ball fly. Bonio and Pete took off immediately. I loaded another and let it go, the ball zooming over their heads and Pete peeled off to chase the second one. Their enthusiasm and sheer joy made me laugh as I watched them. Bending, I called to them, my voice full of encouragement as I clapped my gloved hands. They charged back towards me, each with a soggy tennis ball held proud. Wagging their tails, they plonked their bottoms down in the snow and waited for a treat and a cuddle. I dropped down and gave them both, revelling in the warmth they radiated. And, if I was honest, also in the sense of being wanted, of belonging, of the love that they filled me with. I knew exactly where I was with these animals. There were no games, no falsehoods, no pretending-everything-was-fine. It was one of the many reasons I loved the time I spent here. I knew exactly where I stood.

  Chapter Six

  I sat on the train and gazed out of the window, watching the lights of the city grow closer. We pulled into the terminus and I stepped back out into the noise of the London station. I’d changed before leaving the rescue centre and now headed towards the Underground, bound for Covent Garden. I’d already got presents for Bernice, Mark and Janey and her family. They were really the only people I had to buy for, but I’d decided that perhaps a few little bits from Neal’s Yard might be nice to go with the experience vouchers I’d already got for the girls. And maybe something else, if it caught my eye.

  Having spent over half an hour perusing all the goodies on offer, sniffing various pots and potions and making up two baskets worth of organic treats, I left the shop and wandered out into the alley that the company took its name from. I loved the colourfully painted walls and the bare brick facades with their bright window frames. Decorated for the season, it looked even more enticing and cosy than ever. White fairy lights entwined around a pair of doorway olive trees and a softly twinkling Christmas tree cast a soft glow in a shopfront window. I smiled at a couple apparently exploring the area for the first time, and the delight on their faces as they shared the experience, taking selfies galore. Moving on, I headed to the main part of the old marketplace, now decked out in all its Christmas finery. The huge tree shone bright and a street entertainer was making the crowd laugh with corny jokes as he proceeded with some sleight of hand. I watched for a few moments before heading inside to the old Apple Market, now filled with little boutiques. This year’s decoration theme was gold and silver and the decorations spanned the width of the roof. Giant bell-shaped lights ran down the centre with smaller versions fanning out to the edge.

  Window shopping passed another half an hour until I found a little café and ensconced myself at a table. Nearby a string quartet were busking, the live music adding to the atmosphere as people stopped to watch and listen. My gaze drifted to the passing crowds and the others at the tables surrounding me; couples opening bags and pulling presents from them to show the other their purchase, families laughing and, occasionally, squabbling after a long day as everyone became tired. I loved this time of year – the lights, the decorations, the music. It made me happy. For the most part. Although my formative Christmas experiences might have put me off for life, I’d held on determinedly to the joy that the season was supposed to bring, and hoped that, one day, I’d find it.

  I had to admit that it wasn’t always the easiest of tasks and just occasionally I floundered. A couple of years had seen me grab a last-minute break abroad to some sun-soaked spot instead, where I’d do nothing but read and sip drinks from glasses decorated with so much fruit I could get my five a day from one cocktail. The peace of the places I chose for those holidays helped shift the focus of the past, helped me not to think about the possibility that I might never actually get that perfect Christmas. That it was all just a mirage I’d created in my head. Perhaps nobody really got it. But that didn’t stop me wanting it. Deep down in my soul, away from the rational, organised me, the dreamer that I kept locked away still wanted it.

  And this year there was a glimmer of hope. My normal levels of enthusiasm for the season had been heightened by Calum almost promising that we would definitely spend a few days together over the break. It would be the first time since we’d started dating that we’d be together for more than a few hours or one night. For once, it would actually feel like we were a couple.

  I pulled out my phone and selected him from my contacts. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi babe. How are you?’ he asked.

  ‘OK thanks. I’m just at Covent Garden, having a mooch around. I was just wondering if you might want to come and join me? We could – ’

  ‘Babe I’d love to.’

  My smile widened. I told myself off for prejudging him, having expected him to almost certainly say no.

  ‘But I’m kind of tied up with something at the moment. Maybe later?’

  My hopes deflated. I’d discovered a while ago that when Calum said ‘maybe later’ it was generally code for ‘not a chance’.

  ‘OK,’ I said, unwilling to get into an argument about it right now. And who knew? Maybe this time he would surprise me.

  ‘How long will you be there?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I hadn’t really decided.’

  ‘Well, tell you what. I’ll send you a text when I’m on my way. In the meantime, you just get on and do what you need to.’

  ‘Sure. Sounds like a plan.’

  In all likelihood a plan for him not to turn up, but a plan all the same.

  ‘OK babe. Gotta go. I’ll see you later, hopefully.’

  ‘See you later.’

  I placed the phone on the table so that I would hear it if and when Calum texted. As I did so the waiter approached, holding a menu. I’d originally only planned to have a hot chocolate and maybe a slice of cake, but suddenly I wanted to extend the warm feeling of being wrapped up in Christmas. I took the menu and chose a meal and a glass of wine. Eating alone had never bothered me - It certainly wasn’t a new experience. The wa
iter returned a few minutes later with my drink. I sat watching the Christmas world go by and sipped my wine.

  Over an hour later, having soaked up the atmosphere, eaten and paid, I gathered my bags and shopping and picked up my phone from the table. There was no text from Calum.

  ***

  ‘Oh she was so happy!’ Bernice enthused as I put the drink down on her desk. ‘She couldn’t believe that just organising her home would make such an impact on her life. It’s incredible the difference in her. She’s so much more pulled together now and we rediscovered all these beautiful clothes that she hadn’t worn for years and she’s started wearing them again. There’s just this air of confidence and happiness about her now. It’s wonderful! So different from the woman I met on the first consultation. Aren’t these just gorgeous?’ Bernice finished arranging the blooms that her client had sent her back with and looked around for a suitable place to put the vase. Not the easiest of tasks. The office wasn’t large and I had to admit I may have gone a tad overboard with the Christmas decorations, so that it now had the distinct appearance of an elves’ grotto rather than an office. But hey, it was only once a year and it was my office, and Bernice was all for it. On top of that, it made us happy, which trumped everything. Bernice shuffled a stuffed snowman to the side to make room for the flowers and stood back to admire them.

  ‘They’re lovely Bernice. I’m so glad she was happy. And you obviously did a stellar job, as usual. Well done.’

  Bernice smiled. ‘Thanks.’

  The week had been pretty crammed for both of us and we were exhausted from running about, trying to make sure all of our clients were happy and on top of things. One had rung in a panic, advising they had had a ‘relapse’ so we’d juggled diaries and I fitted them in to mine, scooting over early this morning to see what calamity had occurred. In the end, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I’d feared. The client had just had a bit of a wobble with the thought of various visitors coming to descend on her over the holidays, and had suddenly felt a little overwhelmed. But within a few hours, we’d tackled the problem and the client was back in control and ready for her seasonal visitors.

  Michael O’Farrell was next on my list and I was a little surprised that I was almost looking forward to the appointment. I was pretty sure that this feeling was down to the fact that, as we cleared out the space, the real character and beauty of the house was becoming easier to see and appreciate. It really was the most beautiful house. I only hoped that he appreciated it as much I did. Indeed, more so, since he lived there. However, as he kept his thoughts about anything remotely personal to himself, he could be either completely oblivious or entirely ecstatic and I’d still be none the wiser. I finished my drink and hooked my bag over my shoulder.

  ‘Off to see the delectable Mr O’Farrell?’ Bernice asked, grinning.

  ‘Does your fiancé know you’re referring to clients as “delectable”?’

  She laughed. ‘I said he was delectable. But he’s still not as delectable as my Rufus.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ I smiled. ‘Have a good day and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Have fun!’ Bernice waved and I pulled the office door closed behind me.

  ***

  Michael was on the phone when he answered the door to me. He gave a brief smile and gestured me inside as he continued the conversation. Work stuff, by the sound of it.

  ‘Can you hang on a minute Bob?’ Michael pulled the phone away and pressed mute. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know how long I’m going to be on here.’

  ‘It’s fine. We’d planned on tackling your books today. That’s a favourite bit of mine anyway so I can just get going on that if you don’t mind me starting without you.’

  ‘Not at all. But I know the deal was for me to take part in the process. A fact that you were insistent on making crystal clear on your first visit.’ His mouth was serious but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

  ‘It was and you are. But there’s got to be flexibility built in to the process. Carry on with your call. It sounds important. I’ll see you when you’re ready.’

  ‘Thanks Kate. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  I nodded and turned to hang up my coat as Michael resumed his conversation, then headed across the hallway before casting a sneaky glance back. I saw him run a hand through his hair, still desperately in need of a tidy up. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin had a pallor to it that didn’t exactly scream healthy. I might just mention it, in passing, to Janey the next time I saw her, just so that she could check he was OK. I knew she’d want to know.

  Turning away, I walked into the dining room where Michael had decided that he’d like to keep all his books. I stood for a few moments and couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful, white painted bookcases that now lined one wall of the room. Glancing back, I noticed Michael had now followed me into the room. He raised his eyebrows at me, almost in question, as he continued his phone call. In return, I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger, signalling that I thought the new addition to the room was absolutely perfect. He gave a rare, beautiful smile and the green eyes crinkled at the edges before he turned away and took the phone call out of my hearing.

  It was over forty minutes later when Michael hurried back into the dining room and found me kneeling on the floor, surrounded by piles of books.

  ‘I’m really sorry about that.’ He looked around, his brow creasing. ‘Maybe I should disappear more often. You seem to be even more speedy when I’m not here.’

  I sat back on my heels. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  ‘Worth a try.’

  ‘Are you finished or do you need to get on with some work stuff? It’s OK. I can get these organised myself and we’ll just schedule another appointment when it’s more convenient to do the bits we need to do together. I think we’re making good progress, so it would be fine to do that.’

  ‘No, I’m done for today.’ He flopped down onto the floor beside me. ‘In more ways than one.’

  I looked down at him sprawled on the carpet, his head to one side. He looked more than capable of going to sleep right there with very little encouragement. Perhaps a little break would be a good thing. In truth, I was actually a little worried about him. Just because we hadn’t exactly started out the best of friends didn’t mean that I was completely oblivious to his current state.

  ‘Long morning?’ I enquired.

  He rolled his head onto his bicep so that he was looking at me. ‘Long afternoon, evening, night and morning.’

  I frowned. ‘You worked all through the night?’

  ‘Last-minute crisis. And then they wanted a meeting about it at 9 a.m. I’ve had a four-hour round trip this morning.’

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’

  He gave a gentle laugh as, with some effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. ‘I thought about it. And then I thought how well me ringing you and saying, “Hi Kate. Do you think we could we postpone our appointment today? I’m a little tired,” would go down.’

  ‘You make me sound horribly unreasonable.’ I’d learned years ago not to care too much about what people thought of me. So why did it bother me what Michael O’Farrell thought now?

  He gave me a look. ‘I messed about with your schedule once before and it didn’t go well.’

  I sat straighter. ‘That was completely different and you know it. For one thing, you’ve apologised this time.’

  ‘I’m sure I apologised that first night too. Eventually.’

  ‘No. You didn’t.’

  He shook his head. ‘I must have. In a roundabout way. Maybe you missed it.’

  I gave a prod to move him off a book his legs were lounging over. ‘I didn’t miss anything, thank you very much. You didn’t apologise at all. In any form, roundabout or otherwise.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ I confirmed.

  Michael raised his eyebrows in thought. ‘Right. Then I guess you were absolutely right
to call me what you did.’

  ‘You’ve only just realised that?’

  He let out a laugh that for a moment disguised the weariness of his face. ‘I guess I walked into that one.’

  I smiled and continued working. Feeling Michael’s eyes on me, I spoke without turning my head.

  ‘Feel free to help.’

  He knew by my tone I was joking. Mostly. I was acutely aware of the deadline on this job and although it had all been progressing fairly well in the last couple of weeks, I’d been caught out in the past by someone suddenly producing a hidden mountain of items from their loft/garage/Great Aunt Maude, with the casual declaration that they had ‘just a few more things’. I was desperately hoping that wasn’t going to be the case here and, when I’d enquired as to whether there was anything lurking elsewhere, Michael had confirmed that everything I’d seen was everything he owned. I didn’t think he’d be purposely hiding anything but, as he had the occasional tendency to seem distracted, I wasn’t ruling it out one hundred percent.

  ‘Right. Yes. Of course. So, what exactly are we doing here?’

  Having explained how I was categorising his books by subject for non-fiction and by genre for fiction, I asked him to go through them, putting aside any that he no longer wanted. Those could then be donated to a library or charity shop, or if he preferred, he could sell them online. Michael had immediately opted for the charity shop, mentioning that he always took his stuff to one in particular.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  I looked up, confused. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘You didn’t have to.’

  I sat back on my heels again. ‘What are you on about?’