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“You’re so melodramatic.” He rolls his eyes and holds up his hand as the person answers the call. “Yes, this is Mr Harvey from Harvey’s department store.”
He pauses before nodding. “Yes, well, anyway, I was hoping you had room for four people tonight. Usual seats.”
He taps his foot while there’s another pause and then sighs. “Fine. No problem.”
I shake my head and glower at him for raising their hopes only to be dashed so cruelly and as he places his phone back in his pocket, he appears annoyed. “Unfortunately, my usual seats aren’t available, so we’ll have to slum it in the dress circle instead.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I’m astonished and he sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. It was the best they could do.”
“Not the seats, you idiot.” Despite myself, I laugh incredulously. “You actually have usual seats. What are you, a closet Shrek fan?”
He grins. “No, I have seats reserved at most theatres in London. Usually for corporate purposes, and I reserve the best box. They keep them available for me, but tonight they are expecting Royalty so I must concede them.” I stare at him in shock as Angelina races over, carrying a huge, white, fluffy dog. “I love him. This is Snowy.”
Brad charges over with a light sabre and pretends to lance off Snowy’s head, causing Angelina to scream and burst out crying and by the time we have placated them and repositioned the toys on the shelves, I am emotionally drained.
To distract them, we head to the top floor and Robert arranges a table for us inside Cinderella’s carriage in the storybook themed restaurant, much to Brad’s disgust. He wanted to captain The Black Pearl instead, but there was already a family of five occupying that particular vessel.
As we order burgers, fries, and fizzy drinks, I vaguely wonder where my principles went. I always maintained that I would raise my own children on a vegan diet with strictly no e numbers allowed. Now I’m positively throwing them at these poor children in the vain hope of bringing a little pleasure to their lives and as I bite into my own godmother burger, I can definitely see the attraction.
In fact, I hate to admit it, but I am having the most wonderful time and it’s all down to one man, who is sitting beside Brad, deep in conversation about the intricacies of Star Wars, leaving me to talk Cinderella with Angelina.
* * *
After we’ve eaten,we waft around the store on a cloud of contentment as the harmonious hymns filter through our ears with the sounds of bells jingling, reminding us that Santa is on his way. The air is laced with Christmas scents of cinnamon, pine and orange segments. The perfumery is almost toxic as we glide through the rows and spray ourselves with designer luxury and as we head through womenswear, I longingly consider the finest cashmere, softest silk and designer leather bags, wishing I could afford just one of them.
Luckily, it’s late-night shopping and so we have just enough time to walk the brightly lit streets of London towards the theatre district, admiring the festive windows that we pass and dodging the hordes of shoppers ticking items off their lists as they scurry past us.
It strikes me that I have never enjoyed the build up to Christmas before. To be honest, I’ve never even noticed it, but this is so addictive. It’s making me want more and I say impulsively, “I wish I could decorate a tree and go carolling. Wouldn’t it be fun to involve the kids in that?”
“It would.” Robert appears thoughtful. “I’ve never been a fan of Christmas, as you know, but that’s probably because I’ve always been on my own.”
“What, you don’t go to your parents’ house on Christmas Day?”
“Do you?”
“Of course, if I’m not working.” I shrug. “Most of the time, I volunteer to escape the false merriment and endless unwrapping. However, with children around, I imagine it’s a lot more fun.”
“Don’t you see your sister, then?” He appears amazed at that, and I sigh. “Only if they’re visiting Mum and Dad. It’s tradition we pop round there for drinks on Christmas Eve. I know they go to Sally’s for Christmas dinner, but I always make my excuses because I can’t be bothered with it.”
“What do you think will happen this year? I mean, your parents are away and, well, um, so are your sister and brother-in-law.”
“I’m sure they’ll all be back by then and normal business will be resumed.” I say confidently but for some reason I’m not looking forward to that and to distract myself, ask, “What about you? What are your Christmases like?”
“I head over to my Grandparent’s house on Christmas Eve. Have a formal dinner with them and then drive home. The next day my parents host Christmas lunch and then I return home to work, mainly.”
“Do you have any other visitors?” I’m a little shocked at how cold it all sounds, and he shakes his head. “No. It’s just family, not that we get along, but we go through the motions.”
Suddenly, my own family seems more appealing but before I can delve a little deeper, we reach the theatre and even I experience a stirring of excitement as we step through its hallowed doors.
CHAPTER34
ROBERT
Ihave attended many shows in the West End, usually in my capacity as CEO of Harvey’s, while I wine and dine valuable customers and business associates. However, I can say, hands down, this is the best one I have ever seen, and it’s all because of who’s sitting beside me.
The children are ecstatic and laugh at even the smallest joke and their enraptured expressions make me smile. Their aunt is no different as she laughs and giggles along with them and casts many amused glances in my direction as she tries to share the joke with me. Occasionally, her hand finds mine at a particularly good point and I love how relaxed she is with me now. It’s almost as if we’re a proper family and it’s becoming the most important thing in my world to make them happy.
