by Tracy Bloom
Katy sighed. She loved Daniel. He was her closest friend and ally at the Butler & Calder Advertising Agency, but he also drove her crackers. She clicked on to the calendar on her screen and searched out the name of her next appointment.
‘He’s a potential new German client, which is a bit strange to be honest. I’m hoping it won’t take long.’
‘Oh, what’s his name?’ asked Daniel.
‘It’s…’ Katy hesitated. ‘It looks like Wunorse Openslae.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Really?’ A big grin now spread across his face. ‘What did you say his name was again?’
‘Wunorse Openslae,’ replied Katy. Daniel was laughing properly now, and she had no idea why. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Guten Tag,’ said Daniel, leaping off the sofa and bending forward to shake Katy’s hand while speaking in a very bad foreign accent from nowhere identifiable. ‘So good to meet you. My name is Wunorse Openslae, ya? As in Jingle Bells, ya? Oh what fun it is to ride in a Wunorse Openslae. Or so all the boys say, ya?’ Daniel collapsed back down on the sofa in fits of laughter.
Katy waited for a few moments to decide if she was annoyed and decided that actually seeing the funny side of Daniel and his badly timed and inappropriate jokes was just easier.
‘I thought it was weird that a client was coming from Germany. Should have known it was you.’ She sighed then got up and joined him on the sofa.
‘Well it’s the only way of getting any time with you these days. You are so bloody important it’s like getting an audience with the Queen!’
‘We’re here to work, Daniel.’
‘I know, more’s the pity. But I have come with two very important work issues to discuss.’
‘Right,’ said Katy, nodding. She assumed it was the state of the current campaign they were working on for a health-food brand. As creative director for the agency, Daniel had final say on any advertising concepts that were to be presented to a client. She’d heard he wasn’t keen on the suggestion of Nigella Lawson to front the campaign, but she knew that the client really wanted her. She was going to have a tough time convincing Daniel but as head of account services, that was her job – mainly to keep the peace between him and their clients. She was all ready to tell him for the millionth time that the clients paid his wages, so they were allowed to have an opinion, when Daniel came out with a whole other work issue.
‘So this year’s Christmas tree in reception… I’m thinking a stack of tractor tyres, reducing in size to form the general shape of a Christmas tree, sprayed brilliant white with maybe just a hint, a smidgeon of glitter. Too much and the effect will be ruined. Thoughts?’
Katy looked at her watch. She didn’t have time for this.
‘Fine,’ she said.
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘But where do I get the tractor tyres?’
‘For God’s sake, that’s not my problem! If you want to vent your creative genius by building a Christmas tree out of tractor tyres, you’ll have to do it yourself. Anything else?’
‘You’re no fun any more.’
‘Just because I won’t do the graft and find your tractor tyres while you take all the glory when it’s finished. And I mean all the glory.’
‘Fine, I’ll do it without your help. Now what about the shambles that is the office Christmas party?’
‘I can’t even remember what we’re supposed to be doing,’ said Katy.
‘You do – of course you do. Do you not read my emails headed, “Why the fuck are we going to Christmas Party Land?”’
‘No, I delete them.’
‘What if I’m saying something important?’
‘I very much doubt you are.’
‘But it makes me want to cry. Seriously. Have you read the information? It’s like a big huge party thing with hundreds of other people.’
‘Heaven forbid you mix with people outside of the advertising world.’
‘I think it’s my worst nightmare. The amount of synthetic fabrics, cheap aftershave and hairspray alone is enough to make me want to heave. And what’s Luca going to think? For the first time in my entire life I have a boyfriend at Christmas. A proper, committed, live-in boyfriend at that. Did I mention that he’s Italian?’
‘Many, many times.’
‘He’s a sophisticated Italian. For his works party the firm is taking everyone to Paris for the weekend. Where do I get to take him? Some draughty conference hall in the middle of Leeds! He seriously could leave me because of this. I’m ashamed, Katy. Ashamed.’
‘You are such a snob. You never know, you might enjoy it.’
‘Enjoy it? Are you real? It’s themed, Katy. Themed! You know even the mention of the word makes me come out in a rash. And not only is it themed, listen to this.’ He got out his smartphone, tapped it and then started to read. ‘This year the exciting sounds and rituals of Africa come to Christmas Party Land with its Zulu Sundance Extravaganza.’ He paused with his mouth hanging open in awe. ‘It’s theme is Africa? What’s that all about? What the hell has Africa got to do with Christmas? I just don’t get it, and quite frankly, heads should roll for this.’
‘Wasn’t there a vote on what we should do and this came out top?’
‘Exactly. Everyone who voted to celebrate Christmas sweating along with the masses to bongo drums should be sacked.’
‘Well, you have to go. You know what Andrew said. Three-line whip on all management attending the Christmas party unless there are extenuating circumstances.’
‘I might break my leg on purpose.’
‘Go ahead,’ replied Katy.
‘Thanks,’ said Daniel. ‘You’re supposed to be cheering me up. Quite frankly, the thought of this party is totally ruining my Christmas.’
‘Well, join the club. My mum rang last week from Spain to tell me she’s left Dad.’
‘You are kidding me?’
‘And she’s moved in with her boyfriend, who’s nearly ten years younger than her, and they’re both coming over to spend Christmas with us. Dancing to bongo drums rather than Slade at the Christmas party is the least of my worries. Boom,’ finished Katy, pretending to drop a mic at Daniel’s feet.
Daniel stared at her for a moment.
‘You do know that if they play Slade I could not, will not, over my dead body in fact, ever dance to that annoying mosquito of a song that crawls out of the woodwork every year,’ he stated.
Katy considered punching him, but she decided to ignore his despair regarding Christmas music and continue to press on him her own festive woes.
‘I’m dreading it,’ she said, suddenly finding herself on the verge of tears. ‘And I’m angry. She’s never been that keen to spend Christmas with us before and now, just because she’s got herself a new man, she wants to do the whole happy-family thing.’
‘You could say no,’ said Daniel.
‘I’ve thought about it, believe me. But she’s my mum and Millie’s granny. I can’t say we don’t want her near us at Christmas. How mean would that be? And Millie thinks she’s amazing. Must be the Smarties she drip-feeds her. We’ll just have to grin and bear it.’
‘And what about this guy she’s met?’
Katy shrugged. ‘We’re doing a Skype with him on Friday so we can “meet” him before he infiltrates our home and our family.’
‘Presumably he’s already infiltrated your mum?’
‘Daniel! Please don’t say things like that. She’s seventy-three.’
‘And how old is…?’
‘Carlos? Sixty-four apparently.’
‘He’s Spanish! She’s pulled a Spanish guy at seventy-three? My God, that’s impressive. I mean I know I managed it at twenty-three, one long hot summer in Madrid, but that only happened after I plied him with an enormous amount of sangria. How exactly did she do it? How pissed did she have to get him?’
‘I don’t know. I doubt alcohol was involved.’
‘Alcohol is always involved, Katy. You find me someone who can
not attribute their relationship in some part to alcohol and I will find you a Brit who is able to communicate their emotions while sober.’
‘Well, she tells me they met at church in the choir.’
Daniel narrowed his eyes as he processed this latest piece of information.
‘It’s a lovely story, really a lovely story. It will melt hearts during the best man’s speech at their wedding, but I guarantee they first locked lips after one too many sherries, you ask her.’
‘I’m not asking her.’
‘Ask Carlos then. When you Skype him.’
‘I can’t ask him that.’
‘You can. He’s shagging your mother – you can ask him what the hell you like.’
‘Daniel!’
‘What? Pure companionship, is it? You believe that if you want to, and while you’re at it, why don’t you write to Santa Claus and ask him for a boob job. You look like you could do with a lift!’
Katy decided to ignore the insult. If she responded to every jibe Daniel threw at her she would never have time for anything else. ‘I don’t need to know about that side of their relationship,’ she told him.
‘Well, you soon will because they’ll be doing it under your roof.’
Katy gasped. ‘They wouldn’t, would they?’
‘Why not? It is Christmas after all. Aphrodisiacs a plenty. Champagne, Buck’s Fizz, Terry’s Chocolate Orange, you name it. That warm fuzzy glow you get from Christmas, well, it’s enough to put anyone in the mood, isn’t it?’
‘She wouldn’t dare.’
‘She’s in love.’
‘This is way worse than I thought!’ said Katy, getting up and pacing the room. ‘What am I going to do? Poor Ben. He’s already distraught that my family is going to ruin this perfect Christmas he’s had lined up. He’s so excited that we’re finally in a house rather than the flat and that Millie is utterly hyper about Santa coming. I went home to find an inflatable glowing reindeer on the lawn on Friday.’
‘Oh please. Tell me he isn’t going down that route.’
‘I’m afraid so, but only because he wants to make it all as exciting as possible for Millie. They both went out and fed it this morning.’
‘Words escape me.’
‘He was just really looking forward to us having a proper family Christmas in our proper house and now…’
‘Your mother shagging upstairs will put a damper on it.’
‘Just a bit.’
‘Big surprise present on Christmas Day will cheer him up. What does he want?’
Katy stopped in her tracks and looked at Daniel.
‘All he wants for Christmas is a baby,’ she stated.
‘Wow! Not much then. And you? Is that what you want for Christmas?’
Katy looked away, catching sight of the picture of Ben and Millie on her desk. ‘I think so.’
‘I think so? Not an overwhelmingly positive answer for such a big question.’
‘No. I do want another baby, I really do. And I owe him one after all. An uncomplicated one. It was all such a mess when Millie was born. He missed out on all the excitement and the build-up, didn’t he?’
‘Well if you will sleep with your ex as well as your boyfriend when you could get pregnant, what do you expect?’
Katy sighed. ‘You don’t need to remind me, Daniel. I know it’s all in the past, but I feel like it would really put a seal on it. You know – if we had another child. I owe him that.’
‘What’s all this owing business?’ said Daniel, throwing his arms out in wonder. ‘You shouldn’t have a baby because you owe it to someone. I mean, a baby is for life and not just for Christmas, you know.’
Katy sighed again. ‘I know. I do want another baby, but there’s just a tiny niggle of doubt. But that’s normal, right? I mean, we’ve just started to get our life back a bit. We’ve finally moved and Millie’s getting more independent by the day. She’s loving preschool, especially as her dad works there.’ She paused. ‘But the thought of going back to nappies again and night feeds, well, it’s kind of terrifying,’ she told him. ‘But that must be how everyone feels. I’m surprised anyone goes through it again having done it once, aren’t you?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ replied Daniel. ‘Reproduction is not one of my specialist subjects.’
‘The thing is, last time I had no choice, did I? I got pregnant by accident so I had none of this deciding whether or not I really wanted a child, I just got on with it. Now I can decide, well, suddenly it feels like a huge responsibility.’
‘Do you have to decide now?’
Katy nodded. ‘We always talked about doing it once we moved, when we had the room, but that took so much longer than expected. And I’m forty and…’
‘I know,’ said Daniel, literally clapping his hands together in glee. ‘It was the most fun watching you go through that.’
‘Well, in reproduction terms I’m pushing it. I’m old to be having a baby already. It’s now or never.’
‘Fuck, this is heavy stuff! Can we go back to talking about the African-themed Christmas party?’
They were interrupted before Daniel got the chance to distract Katy from her trauma by listing all the possible reasons why the party was going to be a disaster.
‘Ah, here you are,’ said Andrew, the MD, striding in without knocking. ‘I thought you were supposed to be in a meeting with Wunorse Openslae? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’
Katy glanced at Daniel, who stuffed his hand in his mouth.
‘He cancelled,’ said Katy quickly. ‘What did you need me for?’
‘Well, I’ve just got off the phone with the MD of Boomerang Airlines, a man by the name of Cooper White. He’s starting up a new budget airline in Australia. He’s seen our work on easyfly.com and he wants to come and talk to us next week.’
‘From Australia? Bit of a long way to come, isn’t it?’
‘Apparently he’s over here on business and saw our campaign. Can you muster up a pitch document by next Monday?’
Katy gulped. There went her weekend.
‘Is he seriously a potential client? We can’t service a client in Australia, can we?’ she asked hopefully.
‘I think you’ll find we can,’ said Daniel, leaping up. ‘Bondi Beach, here we come!’ He raised his hands to his sides as though surfing. Andrew glared at him. ‘I didn’t just do that, did I?’ he asked, sitting down again.
‘He owns an airline,’ Andrew continued. ‘If he thinks we can handle a client on the other side of the world, who am I to argue? Just give him the talk, hey? No harm in that. We’ll worry about how we manage it if we get the business. Oh, and just watch Daniel around him, will you? I’ve seen his picture on their website. He’s very good-looking.’
‘Rude!’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘I’m very happily settled with Luca, I’ll have you know. He’s Italian.’
Katy sighed. ‘I suppose we could dig out the old pitch documents we used for easyfly.com,’ she said, thinking of the enormous amount of work a pitch took. It wasn’t as easy as Andrew made it sound.
‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to it, shall I?’
‘We were discussing Katy’s mother’s sex life and the gloom that is Christmas,’ said Daniel.
Andrew nodded. ‘Excellent. As you were.’
‘What was his name?’ asked Daniel, leaping up and taking a seat behind Katy’s computer and starting to tap away at the keyboard as soon as Andrew had gone. ‘Cooper, was it? Boomerang Airlines?’
‘I don’t care what his bloody name is. He just ruined my weekend. I can’t believe Andrew landed a pitch on us just like that. And just before Christmas.’
But Daniel wasn’t listening. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, looking up at Katy seconds later. ‘Will you just look at this fine specimen of a man? Neither of us would mind finding this one in our stockings, believe me.’
Chapter Five
Matthew hummed the Chris Rea classic ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ as he got out of his ca
r and stepped towards the front door. It had just been on the radio, and it reminded him that it was one of his favourite festive songs. Whenever he heard it he pictured himself driving through the Canadian Rockies in a blizzard, dodging stray moose and countless obstacles in his efforts to get home to the bosom of his loving family for the festive season. He envisaged the perfectly decorated tree twinkling in the window like a beacon of light to welcome him. He pictured his wife waiting for him at the door as he drew up, the relief and joy written all over her face that he had made it home safe. Countless children would be running around the hall in excitement at the arrival of their adored Daddy. He would hug and kiss every single one of them as they all screamed his name – such was their happiness that they were all together. Then they would make him sit down in the rocking chair and all scrabble to sit on his knee and cuddle and kiss him and tell him all about how perfect it was to be in this family at Christmas time.
He put his key in the door, noticing the elegant wreath that had been placed underneath the knocker. He smiled to himself. Christmas was coming. He couldn’t wait. With three-year-old twins, a two-year-old and another baby due, it was going to be heaven on earth.
Stepping into the hall he was greeted by Rebecca lying on the floor in just her pants, screaming at the top of her voice, while George, her twin brother, hit her repeatedly over the head with a potty.
‘Stop it now, George!’ shouted Matthew, grabbing the potty, which felt suspiciously damp. ‘What are you doing to your sister?’ George stared back at him, indignant, and then ran off. Matthew picked up the still-screaming Rebecca and carried her into the kitchen. There should be at least two other sensible adults in the house on hand to defuse the constant ticking time bomb that was their twins’ relationship. There was no-one in the kitchen. He bounced Rebecca up and down, humming to try to soothe her as he re-entered the hallway. There he found Lena, the nanny, letting herself through the stair gate at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Good evening, Lena,’ said Matthew. He cleared his throat. Despite the fact she had been with them for nearly two years, and despite the fact he was very well aware that they couldn’t live without her, he never got past the awkwardness of sharing their home with the hired help. He tried to avoid going all Downton Abbey and adopting a Hugh Bonneville, avuncular and yet commanding stance, but he was actually the only role model around to deal with this situation.