Christmas Project, The

by Morrey, Maxine

  ‘When I said I always take my stuff to a particular charity shop you pulled a face.’

  ‘I most certainly did not.’

  ‘I hate to disagree – ’

  ‘I doubt that,’ I mumbled.

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t you approve of charity shops?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘So what’s with the face?’

  I blew out a sigh. ‘I did not pull a face – ’

  ‘Yeah. You did.’

  I fixed him with a look. ‘If I did, then it was merely an expression of surprise.’

  ‘Surprise that I would donate anything? Thanks. I know I’m not exactly your favourite person but that’s a bit harsh, even from you.’

  ‘Of course that’s not what I meant. It’s just that…’

  ‘Go on.’

  I really needed to look into courses that would teach me how not to show everything I was thinking. Although, oddly, Michael O’Farrell was the first person to have ever picked me up on this.

  Glancing over, I saw that he was waiting for an answer, his intense green gaze unreadable. Unlike me, apparently.

  ‘Fine. I was just a little surprised that you donated anything.’

  He opened his mouth to speak but I got there before him.

  ‘Not because I don’t think you would, but it’s just…well, it doesn’t look like anything has left this house in quite some time, barring you.’

  He watched me for a moment or two longer before turning away and beginning to methodically go through the books in the pile in front of him.

  ‘I was referring to…before.’ His voice was flat and I wasn’t sure if I’d offended him. If I was honest, there was a lot about this client that I wasn’t sure about, and right now it was why I was feeling so awful about the fact that I might have hurt his feelings. ‘And you’re right. I haven’t taken anything there in ages. I really don’t know how I let things go quite so much.’ The last sentence was quieter, almost as if it were to himself. But I’d seen this so many times before. I wanted to let him know that it wasn’t unusual. That it wasn’t some sort of failure on his part.

  ‘It’s pretty common actually,’ I began, ‘when there’s been some sort of major event, as there has been in your life. It’s perfectly natural to – ’

  ‘Kate,’ he turned to me, ‘I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’d appreciate it even more if you didn’t do the psychobabble thing on me.’

  ‘I wasn’t. All I’m trying to – ’

  The mobile on the floor next to Michael began to ring loudly, interrupting me.

  ‘Michael O’Farrell,’ he answered, looking away.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself it was just a few more weeks.

  ‘I’ve already sent all those details.’

  Sat close to me as he was, it was hard not to overhear the conversation. And hard to not notice that it was clearly not one Michael was enjoying. His jaw was so tense I was surprised he could even speak.

  ‘No. That’s not what they said, and not what they asked for…’ He paused, listening. ‘I realise that but…no, it’s fine. I can do it now and email it over. OK. Yep. You’ll have it shortly.’

  He hung up and looked at me, running a hand across the back of his neck.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said, before he had a chance to say anything, ‘Go and do what you need to do.’

  ‘I’m beginning to think this client is more trouble than they’re worth,’ he said, as he stood. ‘Ever have any like that?’ He sounded shattered but I heard the attempt at truce.

  ‘Now and again,’ I replied, not looking up.

  ‘So, what do you do about them?’

  ‘Oh, just try and get the job done as quickly as possible, generally.’

  ‘Sounds like a sensible plan. Although it’s unlikely to be anything else with you.’

  I looked up but he already had his hands up. ‘That came out like an insult when it was meant to be a compliment. I just meant that you have your head screwed on right.’ He ran his hand over his face, the tiredness making deep shadows under his eyes. ‘You’re right. I really do need to work on my compliments.’

  ‘I’m not here for compliments Michael. Don’t worry about it.’

  He nodded. ‘Fair enough. I shouldn’t be long on this.’

  ‘OK.’

  He turned and left the room. Moments later I heard the slight squeak from the hinge of his office door as he pushed it to.

  Two hours later and Michael still hadn’t reappeared. I’d long since finished sorting his books and had given up waiting. Fetching the cleaning supplies, I’d made sure all the new shelving was free of dust, done the same with the books, then begun putting them on the shelves. The top shelf was higher than I could reach and I’d cast a glance at a dining room chair before remembering the promise I’d made to my client about not climbing on such items. It’d be just my luck that if I was going to fall for the first time ever, it would be here, immediately giving him the opportunity to say ‘I told you so’, which frankly, would be unbearable. I recalled seeing a small stepladder in the utility room so, grabbing that, I began filling the shelves.

  It was long since dark when I finished and the house was oddly silent. I packed the books Michael had pulled out for donation into a box and put it by the door. Glancing back, I smiled as I looked at the room. There was still a little bit of work to do in here but its transformation so far was amazing. From a bland, empty room, it was now showing its owner’s personality, which is what a home should do. Although, admittedly, that was usually easier when you understood that personality in the first place.

  And now what to do? Did I just leave? Did I call out to him? What if he was in the middle of something? I didn’t want to interrupt. But if I did just leave, then would he feel that I was being rude? Ugh. I put a hand on the banister, enjoying the smooth feel of the oak under my hand as I pondered my decision. If I just peeked my head in to his office and waved on the way out I felt that covered me for not just leaving but wasn’t a big disturbance either - a good compromise.

  I reached the door to Michael’s office, which was ajar, and tapped lightly on it. When no answer came, I tried again, but there was still nothing. I glanced around but no light filtered from any of the other rooms so I could only assume he was still in this one, especially as he’d said he’d return to help me once he finished.

  Pushing the door open a little more, I peered around it. I was happy to see that the room was still as tidy as we had made it during the first session. I looked over to the desk. The lamp stood on it cast a pool of illumination and within that pool was Michael. His head rested on one arm with the other out to the side, his hand splayed across a laptop, his breathing steady.

  I hesitated where I was for a moment. I should probably just leave now. He couldn’t get snarky at me for leaving without saying goodbye if he was asleep. Perhaps I could leave a note? I looked around. A sticky notepad sat on the side of his easel so I scribbled a note and stuck it on the door.

  Right. I should go then. Now, probably.

  My gaze drifted back to the sleeping form. The lamplight cast long shadows from his eyelashes onto his cheek and the overlong designer stubble. His breathing was even and deep, the sleep obviously much needed after working thirty-six hours straight. I really should just leave. Why was I even still here? I made to turn and froze as Michael stirred. Cautiously I turned my head but he’d barely moved, clearly exhausted.

  Oh for goodness’ sake, Kate. Just do what you need to do so that you can get out of here.

  I kicked myself into gear and moved quietly to the sofa in the corner. Lifting the cashmere blanket off of it, I popped it over my shoulder for a moment. I returned to the desk and, as gently as possible, lifted Michael’s arm from where it was resting on his laptop. He didn’t stir at all as I laid it back down and pushed his computer back on the desk so that he wouldn’t knock it off if he woke suddenly. Draping the blanket over him, I then leaned across and switche
d off his lamp. Moonlight mixed with the streetlight filtering in allowed me to see my way.

  Pulling the door closed quietly to keep the warmth in, I read the note I’d stuck on it over once more, just to check: Have put the items you wanted donated in the box by the door. All others are currently on the shelves. They are in fairly obvious categories at the moment but these can always be changed, if required – Kate.

  Crossing the hall, I picked up my coat and accompanying items, bundling myself up, ready for the onslaught of bitter wind that had been hurtling around the city all day. Before leaving I switched on the table lamp that balanced amongst the junk on the hall table and turned off the main one, giving a little light to the area and making it seem less like the house was empty. Plus, even amongst the mess that we were yet to tackle, it made things seem a little more homely. With one last glance at the closed study door, I opened the front door and stepped out.

  Chapter Seven

  Accounting was the least favourite part of my job and I was currently wading through invoices, fortified by a huge cup of tea and far too many Bourbon biscuits when my phone rang.

  ‘Stone Organisation.’ I answered the phone on speaker, concentrating on the screen in front of me, rather than the one on the phone.

  ‘You should have woken me.’ The deep, melodic tones filled the quietness of the tiny office.

  I immediately sat up straighter and switched the phone off speaker. Opposite me, Bernice’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. I waved my hand frantically at her to signal that it wasn’t anything like what she was clearly imagining. By the fact that she was now grinning inanely, I guessed my message wasn’t getting through.

  ‘Erm, hi!’ I said, temporarily thrown off guard by the greeting, delivered in Michael’s admittedly sexy voice. (I’d had to eventually concede to that point, no matter how annoying he could be). Bernice’s reaction wasn’t helping.

  Bernice grinned even wider. Ugh. I really wasn’t helping my own case here.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good, thanks. If a little embarrassed.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.’

  Bernice now looked just about ready to implode with curiosity so I spun my chair away from her.

  ‘I think it’s fair to say that I’ve hardly made a good impression on you and then I leave you so I can go and take a nap?’

  ‘You’d been awake for hours. And you didn’t leave to take a nap, you left to do yet more work. Unless that whole phone call was a set-up?

  ‘No,’ he laughed, ‘it wasn’t. I promise.’

  ‘There you are then.’

  ‘The dining room looks amazing. Thank you. Your idea of having those bookshelves in there is brilliant. I love it.’

  ‘You do?’ I said, unable to stop a huge smile forming on my face.

  ‘I really do,’ he replied, his voice softer this time.

  ‘Oh, I’m so pleased.’

  ‘And thank you for the blanket…and stuff. That was very sweet of you.’

  ‘You almost sound surprised,’ I said, unable to stop myself, and wondering why I cared as to whether Michael O’Farrell thought I was a nice person or not.

  ‘No! No, not at all. It’s just that…well, it’s no secret that you and I don’t always see eye to eye. And before you say anything, don’t worry, I’m perfectly aware that a lot of that is down to me. I just…it was very thoughtful of you. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I was glad to see the office still looked nice and tidy.’

  He let out that tantalising laugh again. ‘Yes. I don’t think I could risk your wrath at letting it go back to how it was quite so soon.’

  ‘Golly. You really do think I’m a dragon!’

  ‘No, I don’t. But tell me honestly, if you’d have come in there and it was a state, would you have been calm and collected or would you have just smothered me with that blanket instead?’

  He had a point.

  ‘Your silence says so much.’

  I smiled, despite myself. ‘Are you still happy to proceed with your next appointment?’

  ‘Absolutely. And I’ll even stay awake this time.’

  ‘That would probably add to our productivity.’

  He laughed and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  I hung up and made a point of not looking at Bernice, pretending to be immediately absorbed in my invoicing again.

  ‘Oh, no no no!’ she said, scooting her feet along the floor in order to propel her chair around the desk and park it next to me.

  ‘No, what?’ I asked, doing my best to feign innocence. It didn’t work.

  ‘You know exactly what. “You should have woken me?” Er, hello! You can’t just put that out there and then not say anything about it!’

  ‘I didn’t put it out there and there is nothing to say about it.’

  ‘So why’s he embarrassed? Couldn’t he…you know…’

  I frowned, not understanding. Bernice huffed at me, then held her forefinger out straight before letting it slowly droop down. I watched her mime, confused. Then it dawned.

  ‘No! I mean, I don’t know! I mean…Oh God. He’d been working straight through the night and got a call to do something else so had to disappear off to his office shortly after I got there, and never came back. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, so I poked my head in and he was asleep with his head on the desk. I put a blanket over him and switched off the light. That’s all!’

  Bernice raised one expertly shaped and tinted eyebrow. ‘That’s all?’

  ‘That’s all.’

  She sat back in her chair. ‘You like him.’

  ‘I do not like him. I mean…’

  The other eyebrow came up.

  ‘I don’t entirely dislike him as much as I did initially. Most of the time. But I don’t like him like you’re suggesting I like him. Definitely not.’

  ‘Definitely not?’

  ‘Most definitely not. Besides, I’m already seeing Calum, who I do like in the way you’re suggesting.’

  Bernice made to start scooting her chair back, but I caught her expression as she did so.

  ‘What was that look about?’

  She turned back to me. ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I think “seeing Calum” is a bit of an overstatement. You hardly ever do see him!’

  ‘He’s – ’

  ‘Busy. I know.’

  ‘Why does everyone have it in for him?’

  ‘We don’t. But the fact that several people have made the same observation should tell you something.’

  I shuffled some papers and made a point of looking busy and efficient. Bernice got the hint.

  ‘It’s just because we care about you Kate.’

  I nodded, which was just about all I could do.

  ***

  Janey was sat on her yoga mat next to me, eating a yoghurt whilst I looked at her upside down from my current full bridge position. The yoga teacher had been giving her various suitable exercises to do during her pregnancy but it seemed that tonight Janey was disinclined to do many of them.

  ‘I’m going to be the size of a house,’ she whispered, opening the lid of another yoghurt which squirted me right in the eye as the seal broke.

  ‘Oh sorry!’ Janey dabbed at my ever reddening face with a tissue.

  The teacher released us from the position and I shuffled on my mat to get ready for the cool down exercises. Janey wiggled herself around and stretched her legs out in front of her. It seemed only the men had got the height in her family. She moved her toes back and forth in a half-hearted attempt at doing something resembling what we were there for.

  ‘Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘Look at that woman’s arse. How is that even possible? It makes Kylie’s backside look…well, like mine!’

  She had a point. The woman’s backside was bloody perfect and the fact that I was stuck right b
ehind her was doing absolutely nothing for my ego.

  ‘You’re not going to be the size of a house. You’re pregnant, for goodness’ sake. There’s another human being inside you!’

  Janey was still focusing on the woman in front of me. ‘Do you think she spends all day doing squats or just won the arse lottery?’

  Laughter burst from me in the middle of a deep breath in and we got a look from the instructor that told us we were heading for the naughty step.

  ‘Stop it,’ I whispered. ‘You’re getting me into trouble.’

  ‘Ah, a bit of trouble can be good for you.’

  I glanced over and Janey winked.

  ‘I don’t have time for trouble.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Absolutely so. Now shush and lie down for a few minutes. The rest will do you good.’

  Janey pulled a face at me but did as she was told. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift. A hand touching mine pulled me back. I rolled my head to see Janey. She squeezed my fingers and smiled, her eyes remaining closed.

  ‘You’ve a kind soul Katie girl.’

  I returned the finger squeeze and then resumed concentrating on my breathing, pushing out all the thoughts and memories that were threatening to invade.

  ***

  As I stood on my client’s driveway waiting, yet again, I was seriously reconsidering my declaration to Bernice the other day that I didn’t entirely dislike Michael O’Farrell as much as I had done initially. I’d texted and got no answer and when I called a quarter of an hour later, his phone had gone straight to voicemail. I’d already waited over half an hour and had absolutely no inclination to waste any more time. I couldn’t believe that he’d done it again!

  Picking up my bag, I began marching back towards the pavement when the sound of a motorbike getting closer made me pause. But only for a moment. I didn’t have time to be messed about. He’d have to reschedule this time. The bike swung onto the parking area and Michael was off it quicker than he had been before, pulling his helmet from his head as he walked towards me. I watched for a moment and frowned.

  ‘Katie I’m so sorry! I know you’re probably mad as stink with me, but I swear to God, this time – ’