‘Take them off,’ Claudia begged.
‘Yours or mine?’ he grinned.
‘Both.’
And so he did. And he was delicious. And she felt delicious. Their bodies slotted together like a padlock. That night they sweated, they laughed, they were serious, they had make-the-most-noise competitions and they learnt every inch of each other that they’d never got to learn before.
Basically, by the end, they were pretty gross.
For the first time in her life, Claudia woke up having actually accomplished that long sought after hairstyle, bed-head. She woke up late, after a relatively sleepless night, and the sun was streaming through the curtains. She sat up and looked in the mirror. Her reflection was flushed, confident, happy. She could hear Nick puttering about in the kitchen and she smiled at the pine needles still resting at the end of the bed.
‘Merry Christmas me,’ she whispered to herself.
Claudia stretched. Yep, she was ready for some hair of the dog. Also known as another dose of Nick. She cocooned herself in the duvet and padded to the door of the bedroom. She smelt bacon. That man was amazing.
Claudia opened the door, her eyes drifting around the flat which was scattered with decorations, glasses, cushions, and Nick’s jumper.
And that’s when her eyes fell on the kitchen, and the man who stood in her kitchen, and she realised who was nowhere to be seen.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked Seth.
Date Ten
Hummingbird Bakery, South Kensington
‘Where’s Nick?’ Claudia asked Seth, as if he might have chucked him out the window.
‘Why would I know? Was he here? Did he stay the night?’
‘Yes, he just …’ She didn’t want to tell him. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘About ten minutes. You don’t mind that I let myself in, do you? I had a few things to pick up, and thought I’d treat you to brekkie. Bacon sarnie?’
‘Of course I mind, you idiot,’ she mumbled, checking her phone. Where did Nick go? He wasn’t working today. Surely he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.
She had a text from him. ‘Mate,’ it started. Mate? Since when had he addressed her as ‘mate’, even before they were together?
‘Mate, I waited so long for her and it was so bad – I had to keep my eyes closed through most of it! I got out as fast as I could. We definitely need a night out with the ladies in the new year.’
When Christmas is over, the fun is past and the world greys, ready for a wet and wintry January, great lumps of snow dropping from rooftops. Claudia felt her heart falling in the same way.
The text wasn’t meant for her. But it was sure as hell about her. She felt sick.
With her hand over her mouth she read it again and again. This had to be a joke. She looked out of the window at the snowflakes floating by. At the quiet, pedestrian-free street. But if it was a joke, where was he? Where was the ‘just kidding’ text?
Her eyes welled with tears. Where was Nick?
‘Claud, do you want a bacon sarnie?’ Seth broke into her thoughts. She shook her head. The only thing she wanted was to not have read that message – for him not to have even sent it, to still be here, bound in this duvet with her, his warm skin on hers, smiling, laughing and making her feel like everything was perfect.
He had to keep his eyes closed? Who was he saying this to?
‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ asked Seth, materialising in front of her. She was statue-still, as hard and cold as granite, even when he wrapped her in his arms.
‘Get off,’ she choked.
‘Shh, I know you well enough to know when you’re upset. I know I’m a total dick and it breaks my heart that I’ve made you this sad over the past few weeks.’
‘This isn’t about you.’
‘Maybe not, but even if my apology can make a little bit of you feel better, it’s worth it, isn’t it?’
Our night was not ‘so bad’. It was really good; she wasn’t crazy.
‘Claud, I am sorry, you have no idea how sorry.’
Claudia took an enormous, snotty snuffle against Seth’s hoodie and buried her head further into the duvet. She felt him kiss her forehead and she looked up, startled.
‘What are you on about? Why are you here with me? Where’s your girlfriend?’
‘What girlfriend?’
‘Stop “what girlfriend”-ing me. The girl from the pub, the girl I saw you with at St Paul’s.’
‘You were at St Paul’s? Why didn’t you come and say hi?’
‘Why do you think, bell-end?’
‘Ha – I love it when your fishwife mouth comes out.’
‘You don’t love anything about me.’
‘That’s not true.’ Seth caught her eye. ‘There’s a heck of a lot I still love about you. Your face,’ – he ran his fingers over it – ‘your body.’
‘It was so bad …’
‘Your dancing.’
‘I got out as fast as I could …’
‘Your heart. I’ve missed everything about you, and I don’t want to miss anything else. Have you missed me?’
She didn’t miss Seth, not any more. But she missed the numbness. Adventure wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and in that moment she would give anything to be back living her flatlining life, because then she wouldn’t hurt. And for that reason she nodded.
Claudia sank towards Seth in defeat. He nudged her face up with his nose and smiled that smile for her again. He drew closer.
Seth kissed her and she responded like she was kissing Nick goodbye. Pain collided with confusion, heartache, familiarity and emptiness. Nick couldn’t wait to go for a night out with his mate and find a new lady. The chapter was closed.
But she didn’t want to kiss Seth; it didn’t feel like it once had.
The door slammed and she jumped, pulling away from Seth and spinning around. Nick had come back?
No one. ‘Shh, it was the wind. Sorry, I left it open to air the flat from the bacon smoke.’ Seth tried to pull her back in to him. What a silly girl to jump at the chance of seeing the man who couldn’t wait to get away from her.
She shrugged out of Seth’s arms and wrapped the duvet tighter around her. She didn’t want him to see her naked again; she still had Nick on her skin. She sank onto the sofa, curling her legs under her so she looked like an igloo. ‘Did you bring those?’ she asked, spying some Starbucks cups.
‘Yep.’ Seth handed her one.
She sniffed: gingerbread. She never gave Seth credit for paying attention in the same way she had for Nick. He surprised her sometimes.
‘If we got back together—’ Seth began.
‘We’re not getting back together. You have a girlfriend. Or at least some chick who thinks she’s your girlfriend.’
‘She’s not … I was trying to be her boyfriend. I realised what a penis I’d been to you and was trying to mend my ways. I thought I could build something with her, treat her well, take her on dates, and then in a way I’d have you back, or at least someone like you.’
‘She’s nothing like me.’
‘Exactly. It didn’t work. I was really bored on that date.’
‘That’s because you get bored on dates. You did the same with me, which is why we never went anywhere.’
‘No, it was her. It was because she wasn’t you.’ Seth reached out to stroke Claudia’s foot, like she loved, but she moved it away. Nick had touched that foot. ‘Claud, we had five years together, don’t chuck it away. I can’t bear the thought of not being with you.’
‘This was your choice.’ Her head swam. Nick dominated her thoughts, but Seth’s words were pick-axing their way through.
‘It was a stupid choice. Come on sweetheart, it’s an easy decision. We already have this whole life together, this home, plans for the future. We could go on the California road trip we’ve been on about for ages. Let’s do it this summer. This Easter.’
‘That’s not what I want any more.�
�
Seth moved closer, searching her with his eyes. They’d sat on this very sofa together many times, ignoring who was beside them to focus on the worlds of the characters on the TV.
‘Can I have one more chance?’
‘No.’
‘Please? I could come to the wedding?’
‘No.’ Nick would be at the wedding.
‘Will you think about it? I’d like to show you I’m there for you and your friends. I want to wish Emma and Ellie a happy ever after.’
‘My friends hate you, you wouldn’t be welcome.’
‘They hate me?’
‘They have to, they’re my friends,’ Claudia shrugged.
‘Do you hate me?’
‘I did. In waves. Now I’m just … over you.’
Seth stood up, giving her another one of his famous smiles. ‘You can’t be over me in three weeks; I’m not giving up yet. Just think about it. If you decide you want us to head down to Surrey together tomorrow, I’m all yours.’
He plonked one bacon sandwich down in front of her with a wink and walked out of their flat munching the other.
Claudia’s home was very quiet.
She stood up, very much alone, with the snow still drifting silently past her window. She didn’t know where to start. Did she throw away the discarded mince pies? Did she wash out the glasses with the Baileys and wine mixture? Did she pick up the Christmas tree decorations? Or did she go straight in, knife to the heart, and strip the sheets off her bed?
She bent down and ran her hand over the pine needles that lay like confetti over her floor. The weight of Nick’s betrayal was something she couldn’t even begin to get her head around at the moment.
As she looked around her, at everything that defined her, she finally understood. She thought she’d built her life around Seth, but she hadn’t. She’d built her life around Nick.
His latest text message was cold.
‘Let’s just pretend last night never happened’.
She stared at the screen for some time. She’d expected some kind of a ‘this was a mistake’ conversation, since he’d made his feelings pretty clear, albeit accidently, but there was no sugar coating on this. Did he think he was doing her a favour by not beating about the bush?
‘Good idea,’ she typed back sadly. ‘I was glad you’d left this morning’.
She reminded herself that it wouldn’t hurt him – though would maybe dent his pride – but she was only acquiescing to his feelings.
Her phone tinkled. She sparked with hope that it could be an explanation, something a bit more personal.
‘If you need a booty call again, you’ve always got plenty of other men on the go. Don’t call me.’
Ouch. Her soul hurt. Conclusive proof from two ends of the spectrum that no good can come of sex, whether she was having it lots or arguing about having none of it.
She typed back, ‘As if I would. You didn’t exactly rock my world.’
The wedding was going to be horrible. What if Nick met one of these new ladies there? It would be beyond awkward if he was snogging some bridesmaid up against the photo booth while she stood on her own, watching. Because she’d totally watch; she wouldn’t be able to help herself.
What a stupid girl to think she was lucky enough to recover from one failed relationship by immediately having a brighter, better one. She’d given everything over to hope and it had left her cold and discarded in the real world.
Perhaps giving Seth another chance wasn’t a bad idea, because maybe Nick would see them together and regret how he’d treated her. Was it worth a try? What would she really be gaining here? Nick didn’t like her – he’d made it pretty clear that she was a mistake – and did she want to get back with someone that heartless?
Maybe not, but she wanted to spite him, to make him feel as replaceable as he’d made her feel.
She dialled Seth’s number. ‘This is such a bad idea,’ she muttered as it rang.
‘Claud!’
‘Come to the wedding,’ Claudia said with little emotion.
‘Seriously?’ Seth sounded like he couldn’t believe his luck.
‘Yes. Last chance, don’t be a dick. We leave tomorrow. And we’re not back together.’
Claudia was furious. With herself for kissing Seth and inviting him to the wedding. With Nick for playing her like a fool. And with all the Sellotape in the world for curling up like a fortune-telling fish every time she tried to stick it to the wrapping paper.
How dare he laugh about her bedroom skills behind her back? Nick, always so funny, always had to make a joke.
How dare he – the other he – cook bacon in her kitchen when she was all naked and vulnerable and then trick her into smooching his stupid face?
Boys were crap, like crappy Sellotape.
‘That’ll have to do I’m afraid, Dad,’ Claudia said to the simple square picture frame that more closely resembled a deflated football by the time she’d finished her awful wrapping. ‘DAMNATION!’ She yelled at the photo of the two of them she’d forgotten to put in the frame.
She got up and snorted angrily. Right. There were three more days to go on her chocolate advent calendar, but she scoffed the lot. In your face, Christmas.
She paced about her flat like an angry bull.
She wasn’t grateful to Nick. Yes, he’d shown her a wonderful couple of weeks and said some lovely things, but whether it was to satisfy his own curiosity or because he thought he was such a hunk and he was doing a favour by offering his services, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t grateful. She didn’t need saving. He should have just left her alone. Should she text him again?
Yes, she should.
‘The minute I split up with Seth you swooped in. From now on, leave me alone. You’ve always been too overbearing.’
She stared at her phone, waiting for a reply.
Still waiting …
She didn’t mean he should leave her alone yet. Only after he’d texted back, to apologise or something.
Was her text too cruel? He hadn’t technically swooped in, no more than she’d let him. But then she remembered I got out as fast as I could and her stomach flipped.
Claudia went and got herself a cup of tea, then checked her phone again. She switched it off and on. She took the battery out and put it back in. She painstakingly covered it with a tower of every single sofa cushion, waited exactly sixty seconds, then slowly removed them one at a time.
Still nothing.
Claudia needed some time alone. It had been a busy month, full of activities, people, well-wishers, to-do lists and, for better or worse, dates. And it would continue to be busy; tomorrow Penny wanted to meet for a cupcake and a coffee, then Claudia was driving home for the Christmas holidays with Seth in tow, then the following day was Christmas Eve: wedding day.
But this afternoon Claudia had to herself. And with her head swimming with tarnished memories of amazing sex, and the looming feeling that she’d somehow made an awful mistake, or two, she had to get out and walk off some of her nervous energy.
She dressed in all of her favourite winter garments at once: her woolly polka-dot tights, an overly expensive black knitted dress she’d bought at a Hobbs sale because it was as soft and fuzzy as a cat and made her feel like Kate Middleton, her Christmas-tree earrings, and her big Paddington Bear duffel coat.
The sky was bruised, like her heart, and even in the early afternoon it was already twilight. The lampposts created pools of amber on the still-thick snow and the wet tarmac of the Mall. Claudia walked to the front of Buckingham Palace and looked through the towering black and gold iron gates, the metal ice-cold and wet through her gloves.
‘You don’t have these problems, do you ma’am?’ she whispered up at the imposing off-white building, with its famous balcony, her teeth chattering. ‘You could send a man to the Tower if he crossed you.’
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ breathed a woman with a strong American accent and a camera the size of Claudia’s head. ‘Do you l
ive here?’
‘Here? Um, no, this is the Queen’s house.’
‘I mean in London, honey.’
‘In that case, yes, I live here, but I sure wish I lived here.’ She pointed a glove through the railings.
‘You’re lucky to live in this city at Christmas, there’s so much tradition and culture. Why, I feel like I’m in a Dickens novel most of the time.’
‘I know that feeling. Are you having a good trip?’
‘I just love it. We arrived two days ago and are here until after New Year’s. Do you have any must-dos, as a local?’
Claudia thought about it. Last Christmas she would have been stumped after ‘I hear ice-skating is fun’, but this year she’d done much more. ‘Have you been up the Shard? It’s spectacular to see London in all this snow.’ She smiled. That was a good date. Thank you, Billy.
The American woman nodded. ‘We were thinking of doing that sometime next week – hopefully the snow will hold until then. We went to that Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park, but I didn’t like that much – a bit too fun-fair for me.’
‘I didn’t like it much either, I had a horrible date there and I threw up. Not my best Christmas experience.’ Claudia chuckled. Ah, Eddie, it seems like a lifetime ago that you were bleeding on my face. ‘A traditional British pub might be right up your street. There’s a lovely one on the South Bank called the King’s Inn, it’s all log fires and good roast dinners.’
‘Perfect, thank you! Any other tips?’
‘Well, if you can find any carol concerts at St Paul’s Cathedral, it’s just … magical,’ said Claudia sadly.
‘Talking of magical, we’re going to the Royal Opera House tonight to see The Nutcracker. Have you been?’ The woman’s cheeks were glacé-cherry red with excitement, a merry flash of colour among the grey and off-white scenery. ‘I just love the ballet.’
Have I been? ‘Yes, my friend is a ballet dancer, actually. Look out for her; she’s the short girl in the red and white dress in the opening scene. And my other, um, friend built the sets. He works backstage.’ And he’s buff and sexy and I love him – in some way – and he thinks I’m crap in bed.
The Twelve Dates of Christmas Page 17