Last Christmas

Chapter Two

 I clattered down the narrow stairs, trying not to inhale oniony fumes drifting from the shop below. Outside, the air was fresh and crisp, and I breathed it in. What to do now? Dread filled me at the thought of returning to my small studio flat. There was barely enough room for my queen-sized bed, now also functioning as a sofa/ dining-room table/ ironing board, and I’d yet to decorate the stark white walls. The place felt like an upscale mental institution, which – given I’d started talking to blow-up dolls – was probably the best place for me.

Maybe a walk would clear my head. Living only a few doors from the office meant my typical journey to and from work covered all of one-hundred metres. The commute was enviable but it certainly wasn’t helping my backside, which seemed to be expanding on a weekly basis. Robert used to say he liked my curves, but now my curves had merged into one rotund lump.

Heaving a sigh, I trudged down Borough High Street towards the river. No matter how low I felt – or how pissed off at Santa – the peaceful flow of the Thames calmed my spirit. I’d spent practically all of last winter and spring pacing up and down the riverside walkway, asking myself over and over how I could have been so wrong.

 I trailed a hand along the railing as I passed the Millennium Bridge and Tate Modern, then weaved between trees sparkling with tiny blue lights. Music drifted through the air and I squinted, making out the silhouettes of people thronging the walkway in front of the Royal Festival Hall. Oh God, was that tune Jingle Bells? It was! My heart dropped as the smell of roasted nuts and mulled wine assaulted my nostrils. A Christmas market was in full swing, pine booths plying upscale holiday paraphernalia as far as the eye could see. God, could I not get away from the festive season for one bloody evening?

I half-closed my eyes to block out the merriment as best I could and picked up the pace, determined not to let any Christmas tat – artisan or not – protrude into my consciousness. The music and buzz of the crowd faded after a few minutes as I neared the safe (Christmas-free) zone and I urged my legs faster and faster—

‘Oof!’ A solid body knocked the air from my lungs, and my lids flew open. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .’ My jaw dropped as I met the eyes of the person I’d collided with. It wasn’t a random stranger. It was someone I knew all too well – a man I knew better than anyone.

‘Lucy!’ Robert seemed as stunned as me.

My lips worked, but I couldn’t form words. This was the first time I’d seen him in almost a year, and although he looked exactly the same – thick blond hair, dark eyebrows that seemed out of place, and generous lips – there was something different about his face.

‘Hey, babe. What do you think of this one?’ A tall slim brunette appeared at Robert’s side, laughing as she tugged down the side of a furry hat. She took his arm, then turned towards me. ‘Hello.’

‘Hi.’ Oh God, how I wished a tsunami would magically sweep down the Thames, taking me with it. It was bad enough to encounter Robert again, but to encounter Robert with another woman?

‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Robbie?’ She flashed me a dazzling smile with teeth so white and straight they almost didn’t look real. Suddenly I was conscious of the gap between my front teeth, one I hated but Robert always claimed to love.

I waited for Robert’s usual scowl whenever anyone dared call him ‘Robbie’. Instead, he nodded, cheeks flushing. ‘Um, sure. Greta, this is Lucy. Lucy, Greta. Lucy and I have known each other for ages.’

That was one way of putting it, I thought. I watched Greta’s face for recognition of who I was, but her friendly gaze remained unchanged. ‘Nice to meet you, Lucy,’ she beamed. ‘Right, I’d better go return this hat before they think I’ve stolen it!’ As she lifted the hat from her head, something flashed on her finger. My heart went into lockdown as I took in the large, princess-cut diamond ring on her left hand.