Page 99 of Last Christmas in London

Megan shrugged. ‘He’s at his parents and then he’s coming to get Alfie, so he won’t be there.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Where’s he taking you?’

‘He said he was going to surprise me.’ I tried not to grin too hard. ‘But to meet him on the South Bank, near Foyles.’

‘Ooh, sexy location.’ Josh winked in the rear-view mirror, before primping himself. How someone could look good with a hangover was beyond me, but he made it work. I, however, was reminded of my hangover as Megan put her foot down again.

‘Oh, Jesus! Take the wheel.’

Chapter 30

Thankfully, my hangover was nothing a few paracetamols and a lot of water couldn’t fix. Not to mention Josh and Megan, when they worked as a team. Josh did wonders beating my face with all the make-up at his disposal, and Megan found a pink turtleneck, skinny black jeans, and a silver pair of Doc Martens I’d once asked her to look after – when I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase – which she’d never returned. I guess sisterly theft had its benefits.

To stay warm in the Christmassy weather, I borrowed a woollen hat with a signature bobble.

‘The finishing touch,’ Megan said, layering her prized Burberry scarf around my neck. ‘Perfect. Now go. And have fun.’

‘What about you two?’ I suddenly realised I was leaving them alone on Boxing Day, with only a box of Denise’s delicious picky bits for tea.

‘Girl dinner!’ Josh chorused, wrapping an arm around Megan’s shoulder and Megan gripped his hand.

‘Maybe a glass of Shiraz.’

Josh sucked his teeth. ‘Oof! Too soon.’

I was prompt for my arrival at the South Bank, after getting an over-priced taxi I definitely could not expense.

I hadn’t even checked in on Pim over Christmas, but she hadn’t reached out to me, unlike Elijah, so she had at least decided to respect my boundaries over the festive period. For which I was very grateful.

Not many revellers remained in the city, now that the big day had passed.

Across the water I could see the lights of St St Paul’s Cathedral still lit for all the evening services, leading up to midnight mass and carols.

The London Eye continued to circle in the sky, lit up in blues and purples as tourists and Londoners gathered for the perfect Christmas view of the city. It was a good night for it, chilly but clear. Not a cloud in sight in the night sky, only the lights of passing aeroplanes and the reflections of the city across the rolling Thames.

I found a bench to sit on, exhaling with surprise at the cold iron as I sat, playing with my sleeves while I waited.

‘Watching the world go by?’ Simon asked from behind me a few moments later. I didn’t turn immediately, just smiled.

‘I thought I would get that last Christmas memory,’ I said to him, finally turning as he sat down beside me. In surprise, I laughed. He was wearing a suit, with a skinny black tie and a plain but smart black scarf. He crossed his arms playfully as I took him in. ‘What are you wearing?’

He scrunched his face up in jest, acting as if his wearing a suit was completely normal.

‘I thought I would go all out, seeing as it’s Boxing Day.’

‘Well…’ I was a little lost for words. It was a bit of a shock, especially given that I was sitting in a cosy turtleneck-and-jeans combo but, God, he looked handsome. Kind of like a James-Bond-just-finished-fighting-a-guy-on-a-speedboat fantasy, with his windswept hair and slightly red face from the brisk air.

‘Sorry I missed you on Christmas Eve,’ he said, adjusting his scarf.

I shook my head and took his hand in mine confidently. It was surprisingly warm, as if he had just moved it from above a fire or from holding a cup of mulled wine. Maybe the flask was about to make a reappearance.

‘Don’t be sorry, I understand,’ I said softly, hoping the weight of my words would land properly. ‘I didn’t realise your mum had passed so close to Christmas.’

Simon inhaled quickly, his voice a little quieter. ‘Yeah,’ he said, almost distantly, like he wasn’t quite sure how to talk about it. ‘Christmas is always a challenge after something like that.’

I nodded. It wasn’t the kind of pain that could be fixed with words. Not when the holidays were supposed to be about joy and togetherness. ‘After anything like that,’ I muttered, trying to keep my own feelings at bay. ‘I think more about my mum at Christmas than any time of year. Not her birthday, not her passing, not even my birthday.’

Simon’s breath caught. ‘There’s something about Christ-mas,’ he agreed, his his tone thoughtful. ‘It’s like… it brings everything up. Like it makes the emptiness stand out more.’

I didn’t say anything, I just found myself shrugging. ‘No one should be alone at Christmas.’