‘Oh Christ, Nick,’ Matt says, turning on the living room light. ‘This place looks like a bomb went off.’
‘It did,’ I reply, wincing at the harsh light now drilling into my eyeballs. ‘A big Angela-shaped one. She’s embarrassed by me; can you believe it? She’s quite mean. Why didn’t you tell me she was mean?’
I see Matt scan the untidy room, the table covered in open takeaway containers and empty beer cans stacked in a tower. He turns to the woman beside him, who has the same puzzled yet disgusted look that Angela had earlier.
‘Leanne, babe, my room’s second on the left. Give me a minute, yeah?’
She nods and retreats into the hall, while Matt takes a seat beside me. He smells like fresh air and lager.
‘Are you supposed to take that Santa outfit home?’ he asks softly, picking a noodle from the furry trim. I shrug.
‘Fuck knows. To be honest, I forgot I had it on. There’s a beard kicking around here somewhere if you want a shot?’
‘Should I ask how your day was? Are you watching. . .Home Alone?’
‘Yup. Christmas marathon on the movie channel. No idea where the remote is. My day was fucking awful; honestly, you have no idea. I’ve been sneezed on, shouted at by a Spanish elf, kicked, screamed at and Angela’s dumped me.’
Matt makes a yikes face. ‘Jeez, sorry, Nick.’
‘Annnd,’ I continue, ‘I lied to a little boy. This sweet little dude with a dead dad and a sad mum and I’ve ruined his Christmas.’
I glance at the television in time to see Kevin being reunited with his idiot parents. I hurl a spring roll at the screen. Sure, Kevin is a brat, but he deserves better.
‘It’s all bullshit!’ I yell. ‘In real life, social services would have been called. Alfie’s hot mum will never have a happy reunion. There are no happy endings!’
‘Who the hell is Alfie?’
I lift my last spring roll, but Matt intercepts it and takes the polystyrene container away from me before I can throw anything else.
‘I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, fella,’ he says, nudging me. ‘Get some shut-eye and we’ll talk in the morning.’
He walks over to the door and switches off the light again.
‘I’m here for you, buddy, but you need to get a grip. Remote’s on top of the telly.’
Matt closes the door and joins his date while I continue swigging on my beer. I smile as I seeScroogedis on next. At last, a film I can relate to.
Chapter Six
‘Ugh. How can anyone live like that? He still has food stuck to his face!’
As I slowly open my eyes, I hear a mumbled reply from Matt about me having a hard time, followed by the sound of the door slamming shut. God, what time is it? I feel rough.
‘She seems nice,’ I say as Matt joins me in the living room. ‘I love the smell of contempt in the morning.’
‘I’ve made you a coffee,’ he replies. ‘Budge up.’
Matt plonks down beside me, placing a strong, almost tarry-looking coffee on the table. I must have fallen asleep with the television on, asMiracle on 34th Streetis almost at the end.
Matt remains quiet as I come to, undoubtedly wanting to kick me up the arse for scaring off his date, but knowing that at this moment, it’s pointless. I’m a mess; my life is a mess. As I watch the little girl wax lyrical about the magic of Christmas, I think about Alfie and his mum. I shouldn’t have given the kid false hope. What am I supposed to do? Snap my fingers and bring his dad back? Magic up a new Prince Charming?
‘I believe. . . I believe. . . it’s silly, but I believe. . .’
I sit bolt upright on the couch as the little girl on screen makes her Christmas affirmations. Maybe there is something I can do.
‘Matt, you’ve put it about a bit, yeah?’
He stops sipping his coffee and narrows his eyes.
