The Great Christmas Breakup

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The Great Christmas Breakup Page 14

by Fonteroy, Geraldine


  ‘But she and me, we’re like soul mates. Like Bony and Clyde.’

  ‘Don’t you mean Bonnie and Clyde?’

  In spite of himself, Hammertro grinned. ‘No, seexy momma, I don’t.

  *

  The Boxing Day Sales meant that the public transport system was stuffed with women intent on returning the awful gifts well-meaning men had bought them, and swapping them for something they actually wanted.

  Two hours later, I walked through the door of LollyBliss, only to find Lolly wasn’t there.

  Now’s your chance.

  ‘Where is she?’ I asked Lucinda, who was so frazzled that her usually perfect hair was slightly rumpled at the back.

  ‘Who knows? But it’s nearly eleven and I have the worst hangover. I can’t even add up straight.’

  Should I? Dare I?

  Then Lolly burst in with a bunch of Chocolato boxes.

  ‘Scar, hi! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I was worried about you, I thought I’d come and take you out for a coffee.’ I pointed at the boxes. ‘Fraternizing with the enemy? He hasn’t paid me, you know?’

  ‘They’re for me,’ Lucinda said, pulling open one of the gold-wrapped boxes and stuffing a couple of white chocolate bears into her mouth. ‘Lolly asked what I wanted for Christmas, and this is what I wanted.’

  Before I could reply, Lucinda leaned over and kissed Lolly full on the lips.

  ‘No,’ I said, unable to stop myself.

  Lolly grinned. ‘Who knew it?’

  ‘I only came to work here because I fancied her,’ Lucinda said, between mouthfuls of chocolate.

  ‘Amazing, congratulations you two!’

  ‘What’s with the chocolate?’ I whispered to Lolly, as we set off to have a good gossip.

  ‘Domestic bliss,’ she said, hugging me tightly. ‘And Carson told me all about his news too. Next year is going to be wonderful, Scar. I can feel it.’

  And for once, I didn’t disagree.

  *

  It didn’t take long for the gloss to wear off my new found appreciation of Cecily. My gift from the Teesons (‘we all chipped in, it was very expensive’) was an entire year’s membership to Weight Down.

  When the gift brought a tear to my eye, literally, no one spoke for a good five minutes. Then Cecily 2’s husband smacked his hand down on the coffee table.

  The glasses of beer jiggled festively.

  ‘This is so pathetic,’ Rufus exclaimed, the bald patch shining under the plastic, illuminated mistletoe. ‘When are you people going to learn how to be polite to poor Scarlet?’

  Utter and complete amazement oozed through the collective consciousness of the Teeson family.

  ‘Um, it’s okay,’ I said, because Carson was looking at me, imploringly, willing me to resolve the situation.

  ‘No, it isn’t!’ Rufus stood up. ‘I am sick of you,’ he waved an arm at his mother-in-law and wife, ‘being unjustifiably rude to poor Scarlet. She’s done nothing to deserve your contempt.’

  ‘What does contempt mean?’ asked Howie.

  ‘Dislike,’ J told him.

  ‘Does not,’ said Howie.

  ‘Does,’ said Jessie.

  ‘Shut up Rufus, no one cares what you think,’ Cecily 2 cackled, loudly of course.

  Rufus slowly and determinedly gathered his coat and keys.

  ‘Where in the fuck are you going?’ Cecily cried. ‘We haven’t had the microwave Christmas pudding yet!’

  ‘Back to Canada,’ Rufus told her. He glanced at Howie. ‘The boy can visit me in the holidays. I’ll send him a ticket.’

  ‘Don’t you dare leave this trailer park, Rufus Teeson,’ Cecily screamed, unable to comprehend her Christmas was being ruined.

  And all because of the evil gift she’d bought me.

  But Rufus simply shot her Cecily 2’s favorite hand gesture and without another word, was gone.

  ‘Well!’ exclaimed Cecily.

  ‘Fucker,’ yelled Cecily 2.

  After exactly one minute (I was clock watching, praying for some change in the time/space continuum), Cecily slapped her hands together, as if wiping off something sticky, and said, ‘Never mind, more turkey for us.’

  It was at that point that I decided to make Hammertro’s Christmas wish come true. The calendar had said to do something for someone else. Well, this was my good deed. Whether it would ultimately be good for my neighbor or sister-in-law (or me, for that matter), was a question I didn’t want to ask.

  I texted Hammertro.

  Cecily 2’s husband left her. Make your move!

  Look on the bright side, I told myself. If he moved in with Cecily 2 and Howie, I might have neighbors who didn’t composed 115 decibel rap tunes peppered with expletives. He couldn’t do that and Cecily 2 at the same time, could he?

  ‘Scarlet’s mother is coming to stay again in the new year,’ Carson said, changing the subject.

  ‘Really?’ Cecily said, jealously. ‘Does she have nice pins, then?’

  Trust Cecily to ask such an obtuse question. I hadn’t seen Mum’s legs since a holiday in Cornwall about twenty years ago.

  ‘Not sure.’

  ‘Is she fat like you?’ Cecily 2 asked, seemingly over the abandonment by her husband already.

  ‘She’s very thin,’ Carson told them.

  I grinned at him. Feeling guilty after inflicting so much trauma on Mum, the first thing we’d agreed to do when Carson got paid at the end of January was ship her back to NYC, to spend a lot longer with her grandchildren – and this time without the trauma of my financial and relationship woes to deal with.

  My phone pinged.

  Must be Hammertro.

  No.

  Lolly.

  Robert says he’ll pay.

  Nothing more. What did it mean?

  How come? I texted back.

  Lucinda’s dad is his banker. She marched down there and told him her daddy would cut off Chocolato’s line of credit if he didn’t.

  Unbelievable. Texting back I said we should meet for a debrief later that night.

  Can’t. Busy. :)

  Ah. I was so happy for Lolly and although I fully expected Lucinda’s father to be a man of influence, I had never imagined such influence to ever be of help to me.

  How strange life was.

  Suddenly, Howie asked his mother if he could eat the last four chocolate Santas off the tree.

  ‘No, you’ve had yours,’ said Cecily.

  ‘Yes,’ said Howie.

  ‘No,’ said Cecily 2.

  ‘Yes,’ said Howie.

  ‘No,’ said Cecily 2.

  ‘Enough!’ roared Carson, letting go of my hand and taking up Howie so that his legs were dangling. ‘Howie, if you persist in this behavior you will end up like them,’ he indicated his mother and sister, who sat together on the sofa, looking like rejects from Jeremy Kyle.

  ‘If you want to succeed and be a man, you need to say yes. Yes to good food, yes to education and,’ he turned to me, ‘yes to the right woman.’

  ‘You mean that?’ I asked Carson.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You are all I want. You always have been.’

  As we moved in for a soppy, cinema-style kiss, and J and Jessie started up a slow clap, Howie pulled at Carson’s sleeve.

  ‘Uncle Carson?’

  ‘Yes Howie?’

  ‘Do deep-fried Twix count as good food?’

  THE END

  Don’t forget to check out all the other Geraldine Fonteroy titles available online including:

  The Revenge Date

  and

  The Shoplifting Mothers’ Club.

 

 

 
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