Page 26 of Last Christmas in London

‘Excuse me, don’t you have an assistant?’

Josh rolled his eyes. ‘I have three. But they don’t work for me, they’re my co-workers, not my slaves.’

‘Your minions, basically.’

‘I prefer Christmas elves.’

‘Of course you do,’ I said, snuggling into a blanket as Josh pressed ‘Play’ on the screen selection and the movie began.

‘I think I’m just going to have to ignore Pim—’

‘Like she ignores you,’ Josh cut in.

‘And just interview the applicants myself. I’ve got a few lined up this week.’

‘Good plan. Take the initiative and screw Pim! Or, better yet, hire someone truly awful as the ultimate revenge of a disgruntled employee.’

‘But I’m not disgruntled,’ I corrected. ‘I’m only leaving because a great job opportunity has come up.’

He rolled his eyes again, and pressed ‘Pause’ before Tim Allen had finished giving his terrible speech at the Christmas party.

‘Look, if you’re not disgruntled, you should be. She took you away from your family.’

The word ‘family’ stung, pulling at the ever-present ache of being an orphan. I fought to keep my expression neutral.

Josh noticed. ‘Okay, she took you away from your friends, then – who are like family. She underpays you, never praises you at all, and then treats you like you have two brain cells when really you’re the brains of her whole operation.’

‘Hardly. She has that freelance publicist sometimes.’

‘Whom you deal with, not her.’

It was true – I did most of the talking on Pim’s behalf. After eight years of handling her schedule, her bills, and even her well-being, from her laundry to her prescriptions, I knew her better than she knew herself.

‘She’ll fall apart when you leave, no matter who you hire,’ Josh said. I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. ‘And not because you’d sabotage her. You’re too decent for that – I’d do it, but you wouldn’t. The irony is she won’t realise what she’s lost until you’re gone. Funny how people never appreciate what they have until it’s gone.’

‘A bit like Scott Calvin in The Santa Clause 3.’

‘I thought we agreed never to acknowledge The Santa Clause 3.’

‘I know, I know. But the lesson was so perfect it had to be brought out for that moment.’

‘C’est vrai,’ Josh said, glancing at me with an almost mischievous smile.

‘Oh, you speak French now, do you?’

‘Didn’t I tell you Zach’s learning French?’

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to get into a discussion about his life with a married man.

‘No, you didn’t.’ I kept my tone flat, not encouraging any more details.

‘Well, he is,’ Josh said quietly, pressing ‘Play’ on the movie again.

We fell into a comfortable silence for a time, watching Scott Calvin’s antics: burning the turkey, taking his son to Denny’s, failing miserably at bedtime stories, and then the loud clatter.

‘What would you do if you heard Santa on your roof at night?’ Josh asked, casually brushing mince-pie crumbs off his trousers onto the floor.

‘Probably call the hotel manager,’ I replied, making him laugh as he remembered my transient living situation.