Page 12

There were only two of us today; everyone else had cried off for one reason or another. But that was just how things were on the run-up to Christmas, everyone busy dashing around buying presents, wrapping presents, buying Christmas food, eating the food too early, and then having to buy more food to replace what they’d eaten.

I didn’t have to worry about any of that. I didn’t have any family to buy presents for and no expectations from anyone regarding keeping special food in the house now that I was single again.

But I certainly didn’t begrudge others partaking in all the Christmas shenanigans. I wasn’t bitter about it or feeling lonely.

Okay, maybe I was possibly a little bit lonely, because it had been a long time since I’d spent Christmas alone. Despite not having family, I had pretty much always had either a girlfriend to spend it with or on the rare occasion I was single for Christmas, friends. But now all my friends had children, so I had declined their offers to go and stay for Christmas. I didn’t want to intrude.

My swim buddy, Greg, and I had eased into the water in our wet suits after breaking the ice. The freezing water coated me in tingling, invigorating cold, and it was as if all my senses turned up a notch and I became hyperaware of my surroundings. The stillness in the air around us, the smooth lap of water as we swam a little farther into the loch, the proud jut of the hills bordering the shoreline, and the breeze rustling through the trees on the bank and causing the branches to flutter ever so gently. The rising winter sun cast streaks of pinks and orange over the puffs of clouds in the sky, making them glow with an almost ethereal light.

Greg checked his watch. “Two more minutes?”

“Sounds good.”

We were always careful regarding how much time we spent in the water, according to temperature. Greg and I were a similar build and of similar experience and we usually matched our timings.

As we turned to swim back to shore, something from my thought processes a minute before struck me. I had pretty much always had a girlfriend, ever since I’d left home at age eighteen. Was that because I was subconsciously filling the gap in my life that family should have occupied? Was I scared to be alone?

Shit. This was all very deep for eight o’clock in the morning.

We reached shore and stripped off our wet suits, patting the moisture from our skin with our towels and getting our dry robes on before we sat inside our windbreak, where I poured some hot coffee for both of us from the thermos.

Greg sipped his gratefully. “That was a great session. Shame the others missed it.”

“I know,” I said, warming my hands on my mug. “But everyone’s got so much going on at this time of year.” I shot him a smile. “Surprised you even made it, mate. Thought I’d be swimming alone this morning.”

He shook his head. “No way. I wouldn’t let you go in alone.” He reached over to slap my shoulder. “Gotta look out for my swim buddy, haven’t I?”

“Well, I appreciate it.” I took a sip of the hot coffee. Nice and strong. The effects of the caffeine combined well with the invigoration of the cold water, and I allowed myself to sink into the endorphin rush for a moment.

Greg cleared his throat. “Speaking of being alone . . .”

Uh-oh. I knew where this was going.

He scratched his forehead under his woolly hat. “Lynn and I were wondering. Would you like to join us for dinner on Christmas Day? We’d love to have you.”

I shook my head. “That’s a really nice offer. But I’m fine on my own.” I smiled. “You don’t want a random bachelor in your midst during your day as a family.”

Greg frowned, shrugging his shoulders. “ ’Course we do. Our kids are older now. Rob will be back from uni and more interested in catching up with old friends. There’s a bit of a reunion coming up for his sixth-​form class at some point over the holidays. And Maisie will just be Snapchatting her friends all day.” He grinned. “Lynn and I would be glad of a bit of conversation rather than the usual grunts we get from the kids.”

I eyed the earnest expression on his face. He was a good friend, and Lynn was a very kind woman. “I’ll have a think about it.”

A look of genuine delight crossed his face and I felt bad that my “I’ll think about it” actually meant “I’ll think about it and still say no.”

“Anyway,” I said, looking for a change of subject to escape my guilt. “What’s been happening with you this week?”

Greg updated me on the latest car he was fixing up. A mechanic by trade, he liked to buy them at auction, get them roadworthy, and sell them.

“What about you?” Greg asked. “What’ve you been up to?”

I swirled the dregs of coffee in my cup. “I’ve entered that Christmas lights competition.”

Greg’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Didn’t realize you were into all that.”

Most people made that sort of assumption about me, even my friends. Quiet guy, bit grumpy. Ergo probably a grinch. “Yeah. It’s something that . . . was a bit of a family tradition as a kid.”

Greg nodded, staying quiet. He knew about my past, but like most of my friends didn’t ask much about it because they were worried it would upset me. I think probably also because they were worried it would upset them too.

“Anyway,” I said, itching to save his discomfort. “I pissed off my neighbor across the street.”