Last Christmas

Chapter One

‘I can’t wait for Christmas!’ Mimi’s excited voice filled the small office as she dangled mistletoe from the sprinkler system on the ceiling.

I grimaced, taking in the clump of sickly-looking leaves and dusty berries. ‘Um, not so sure that complies with health and safety.’

‘Pah, health and safety.’ Mimi waved a hand, almost toppling off the pile of folders she was perched on. ‘That can’t ruin the Christmas spirit!’

‘No, but a broken leg can,’ I said wryly, helping her down. The last thing my tiny recruitment business needed was a disability claim.

‘Okay, okay, boss.’ Mimi plopped onto a chair, then yanked open a window on her advent calendar, neatly inserting a chocolate into her mouth. ‘Yum. Only one more week until the big day. How are you celebrating, Lucy?’

‘Oh, you know, the usual.’ I shoved a pile of CVs her way. ‘Can you finish calling these candidates before you head home?’

As Mimi’s chipper tone rang through the space, I slumped over my computer screen, willing away thoughts of Christmas. With an assistant who’d appointed herself Santa’s little helper, it was almost impossible. Besides the daily countdown, she’d slathered our one-room office with festive decorations, from a blinking tree to fake poinsettias to a blow-up Santa that frightened me each time I turned on the lights in the morning. Our tiny space looked like Christmas had caught the stomach flu, spewing its contents everywhere.

I wished Christmas would get the stomach flu and take a break this winter. After last year, all I wanted was to bury myself in work and forget the occasion even existed. In fact, that was exactly what I’d planned. I’d grab a bottle or three, order an Indian takeaway with curry so hot it burned my mouth, and finish my accounts. Hopefully the pain, boredom and/or drunkenness would blot out the day.

‘Right!’ Mimi removed her headset with a flourish. ‘I’m done.’ She wound a colourful scarf around her neck, then checked her reflection in the full-length mirror she’d installed in the corner, claiming ninety-nine percent of success in the workplace was looking like you meant it. I shook my head – even the shiny surface was adorned with reindeer and snowman stickers. It’d take ages to peel those off . . . or were they still there from last year?

Watching Mimi slather on sparkly eyeliner, memories of one year ago filtered into my mind. With only a week to Christmas, I’d been in fits of excitement, even giving Mimi a run for her money. I’d helped deck the office with glee, but all the twinkly lights and silver decorations hadn’t come close to how I felt inside. In exactly seven days, I was going to be engaged. And not just to any old run-of-the-mill fiancé: I’d be engaged to Robert, my childhood sweetheart and the man I’d loved ever since he chucked me into a muddy puddle in Year Four. The knowledge had made my heart beat faster than the Little Drummer Boy’s rum-pum-pum-pum.

Tears sprang to my eyes now and I angrily shook my head. For God’s sake, twelve months had passed since that disastrous day. Time to move on . . . or, at least, try everything possible to forget. This season, I’d have such an un-Christmassy Christmas even Santa himself would be put off the festive spirit.

‘Okay, I’m ready to party!’ Mimi perched a pair of antlers on her curly head. They jiggled and danced as she shrugged on her coat. ‘Wanna come? It’s Christmas karaoke.’

As if! I’d rather ingest pine needles than listen to punters belt out tuneless carols, although I did have the perfect song to sing. Wham’s Last Christmas would suit me to a tee. In fact, I’d had it on repeat for months until my downstairs neighbour retaliated by blasting Guns N’ Roses each time I played the tune, and my landlady started offering to cleanse my aura of ‘any residual trauma’. I’m ashamed to admit I almost took her up on it.

‘No, no. I have lots to finish up here.’ Truthfully, though, work had slowed to a dribble. I could probably close the office over Christmastime, but then what would I do?

‘All right. See you tomorrow. Good night.’

‘Night.’

Mimi thumped down the stairs, and the office fell silent except for the humming light outside advertising the kebab shop below. I stood and stretched, fury filling me as my eyes landed on blow-up Santa’s smug smile.

‘Think you’re clever, don’t you?’ I flicked his chin with my finger, noting with satisfaction how he reared back. ‘But if you were really so clever, you would have made my wish last Christmas come true. But no. Oh, no. Instead, you had to go and mess it up royally, didn’t you? What have I ever done to you, Santa? What—’

‘Um . . .’

I turned, mouth falling open in horror at Mimi in the doorway.

‘I forgot my phone,’ she said, slowly edging towards the desk like I was a psycho who could turn on her any minute. Not that I blamed her – I had been talking to a blow-up doll.

‘I was just . . . ’ My voice trailed off as I realized there was no way to explain my actions.

‘It’s okay. Look, I got it.’ She held up her mobile. ‘So, um, I’ll be going now. And maybe it’s time you did, too. Get out of here and have a rest or something.’

‘Yes, yes, I think you might be right.’ I avoided her eyes, my cheeks flushing as I tidied the desk then put on my coat. ‘You have a fun time. Good night.’

Her footsteps sounded on the stairs. Sighing, I shut down my computer, turned off the light, and stood in the middle of the darkened room. Had I really just been telling off Santa? It would have been funny if it wasn’t so tragic.

I peered into the street below, resolve flooding through me. If ever I’d doubted my holiday strategy, my little chat with Santa had made it even clearer: I had to escape from all things festive before Christmas did me in.