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I pretend to not have heard a thing but keep my eyes glued on my book. I do feel for the matriarchs at this time of year, holding the season together with sheer will, grit and multipacks of Sellotape. She looks up at the departures boards, to her watch and then looks around Waterloo at the shops behind us.
‘Kids, up you get, we need to get a final gift for Aunty Bloody Betty.’
I smile, I hope that’s her official name. Hate her.
‘Can’t we stay here?’ The eldest boy groans, looking around at their collection of rucksacks and trolley bags.
‘No, you must endure this torture too. We can buy snacks. Up. Now,’ she tells them, signalling with her hands as they all trundle towards Marks & Spencer with their luggage. ‘Remind me to get a sodding gift bag,’ she tells them.
I only occasionally come to Waterloo in the week when it’s a commuter haven and people look at departures boards and then sprint towards gates with desperate, competitive looks in their faces as they race home for the evening. Today is a Sunday and the vibe is different. Families wrapped up in hats and gloves are getting off trains and strolling towards days out, people are laden with luggage headed home for Christmas, trying to balance gifts on trolley bags. To the centre of the station is a giant tree around which all the action unfolds, twinkling merrily as people stop to take the occasional selfie. A couple stops in front of me to do just that, smiling and loved up, and I think about the events of last night, the long conversation with Leo after the wedding, reliving laughs, words, moments.
‘Afternoon, boss…’ I hear a voice say behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I smile and stand up, reaching out to hug Jasper but also getting my phone out. We’re by this big tree, we must. ‘Comeon, get in for a selfie. Let’s get fucking festive,’ I joke. I take the picture then go to check it, seeing that Jasper has pulled a face.
‘So beautiful.’
‘I know. I’m like a Da Vinci painting. You are early,’ a pleasantly chipper Jasper tells me as he drags a duffel bag with him, rucksack on his shoulder and balancing two coffees in his hands. ‘A hazelnut latte for the lady,’ he tells me.
‘Jasper! Thank you,’ I say mildly surprised. I mean, he knows my coffee order because we’ve been colleagues for years but this feels like a kindly way to start this little trip of ours. He also looks different, smarter. It’s a blue jeans, Fair Isle jumper and peacoat look. His bright trainers being the only way I’d recognise him otherwise. ‘And I’m always early, you should already know this about me.’
He smiles. ‘I bought snacks too, they’re in the bag. I got a selection of savoury and sweet and healthy and alcohol. They did a Christmas gin and tonic in a luridly red tin. We have two each,’ he tells me proudly. ‘Did we need anything else?’
To be fair, I’m still digesting last night’s dinner but I nod, applauding his initiative. ‘Nope, are you sorted for gifts?’ I ask, thinking about that poor woman trying to pick out wine with her three kids.
‘I am good. Your tip on the cashmere was excellent. All my aunts will now match too. I’m ready,’ he tells me, waving his ticket in the air. I copy him, laughing. There’s an excitement in Jasper’s eyes that you rarely see, whether that’s because he’s going home or because it’s that time of year. I’m glad to see it as I thought he might be a cynic when it comes to the festive. ‘Then we’ve been given a platform, let’s get through the gates and get the good seats because I’m not sitting all the way to Winchester with someone’s fetid armpit in my face.’ There, that’s the Jasper I know.
I stand up, walking alongside him as he sips at his coffee.
‘So, tell me about last night,’ he says, nudgingme.
I pretend to sip at my coffee, wondering what he means. The wedding or the fact that I spent the evening weaving through the streets of London, chatting to Leo. The Leo that we work with. And not just that. He made sure I was safe, that I was alright. He booked me an Uber with someone called Jesus. A Jesus who didn’t laugh when I told him it was his birthday in a few days. Apparently, his birthday’s in March.
‘Did Frank’s eyebrows calm down?’ he continues. Oh, he’s talking about the wedding. That’s fine. We can do that. ‘They did. It was a good evening. I got to meet the family. And the mother.’
‘Did she breathe fire?’ Jasper asks, chuckling.
‘Of the very worst sort but I’m good with flames,’ I tell him.
‘That’s because you’re a designated fire chief for our building,’ Jasper informs me.
‘This is true. But it wasn’t all bad. I met a lovely friend of his called Norah and there was a gorgeous, festive feast. I ate cranberry and lychee macarons with gold stuff on the top. I felt very swish.’
Jasper smiles. ‘Then all good. I laughed a little too hard at Frank’s eyebrows, I hope he forgives me for that.’
I shake my head but the fact is, out of the four of us, Jasper and Frank have been friends the longest. The two of them made that basement their nest and fully made that department operational at least two years before I came along. Before Leo came. I bite my lip to even think about Leo. But Jasper and Frank are two of the same people. They both like the same video games, they know each other’s Five Guys orders (don’t you dare give Jasper lettuce) and they talk in that same shortened code where you know they can almost read each other’s minds. It’s the best bromance I know. Frank will almost certainly forgive him for laughing at his eyebrows. He’ll just laugh at something about him to return the favour.
‘Here,’ I show him my phone. ‘Here’s a selfie of us at dinner.’
‘You look so pretty?’ he says, sounding surprised. I won’t be offended.
‘I do occasionally scrub up for social events. It’s when I’m in the basement and there’s no daylight and I’m around you buffoons I don’t see the need.’
‘And did you do anything afterwards?’ Jasper asks, an eyebrow raised.
‘After the wedding? Oh no…I went home…’ I hope Jasper can’t read the blush in my face to know that actually I spent quite a bit of time on the phone with Leo afterwards. The Leo I sit opposite with the dimples and the nice smile and, I now know, the excellent phone skills.
He laughs as we go through the gates, pulling our bags behind us. ‘Did you meet the sisters? Aren’t they awful?’
