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‘Leo, can you please give Maggie a cup of tea or something? She looks cross-eyed with the cold,’ Jasper remarks, expertly changing the subject.
However, that comment sends me into a strange panic. ‘Eyeballs are filled with liquid. Can they freeze? That can’t be good. Could they expand? That’s very near my brain.’
Leo looks over at me like I’m delirious and slightly mad. I hear frostbite can do that too, but I hear the echoes of laughter from Frank and Jasper and I sneer at the lot of them. The problem is we do this so well, the banter, the teasing, and none of us take it to heart because we know the friendships we have are more than that, and my heartstrings are royally tugged again to think that I’m about to change this dynamic forever. I look at all our faces on that screen.
‘Well, I know I may die and my eyeballs might explode but can I just say something?’ They all stop laughing to listen. ‘I wasn’t supposed to have a Christmas this year. I thought I was going to be alone but you all jumped in and gave a girl somewhere to be and it’s been a week to remember, it really has.’
Leo snuggles into me at this point as Jasper and Frank smile back at me.
‘So thank you, my wonderful tech lads. Thank you for looking out for me. Love you all.’ I do tear up at this point which makes me mildly relieved that my body still has the capacity to do so, but they don’t reply. I’m not sure Frank and Jasper thinkit appropriate given my current relationship status with Leo, but they nod.
‘Right, enough of this soppy shit. Go get in the warm,’ Jasper says to snap us out of the emotion. ‘Have a good one, kids.’
‘Merry Christmas, guys.’
‘Merry Christmas, boss.’
THIRTY
‘Now then. Pint of Northern Wit for me and she’ll have a…’
‘Gin and tonic,’ I tell the man behind the bar.
‘Sorry, love. We don’t do cocktails,’ the landlord tells me in a serious broad accent before breaking into a smile and a laugh. ‘I’m just playing with you. Hendricks? Gordon’s? Any sort of tonic?’
‘Surprise me.’
There is something so laidback and cosy about this Christmas up North. When we got back from our walk, we all engaged in saucepans of scented mulled wine, the most extraordinary cheeseboard I’ve ever seen and it was a late afternoon of board games and sitting by the fire, trying to wind the excitement down for the kids and listening to Uncle Rich serenade us with his singing and subsequent snoring. And once the house had settled and people were starting to snooze, it was time to take the rest of our Christmas Day to the Goldings’ local pub, The Crown. As I’m used to boozers in the city with sticky tables, gormless commuters and beer gardens overlooking train stations, there is something quaint and gorgeous about the low wooden beams decorated in garlands and fairy lights, thefragrant tree in the corner covered in red velvet bows, and the various tables and stools organised around the open fire. In the background, there’s some instrumental Christmas music and the buzz of the locals who’ve all dropped in to greet each other and share a jar. Leo turns to me and smiles, a look which is also proud, content, and I will admit to feeling the same.
‘As I live and breathe, King Leo!’ a voice suddenly bellows from the end of the bar.
We look down and quite bizarrely, it seems to be a Northern version of Santa at the end of the bar. Not just one of them, a small gang, all drinking and being merry. Their costumes vary in authenticity. One of them has made an effort with a fake belly and boots, another opts for a hat and red hoodie. Leo shakes his head at the one who shouted. ‘Bollocks.’
I give him the side-eye. ‘Are you not a fan of a collective of Santas then?’ I ask.
‘Just this collective. Are they coming over?’ he asks me, sipping at his pint.
I gaze over. ‘Yes.’
‘Double bollocks.’
I look on curiously as this sleigh of Santas approach to hug him, ruffling his hair and I’m instantly intrigued at why Leo is less impressed to have them around. ‘Big Leo, back from the city,’ says the one who initially shouted, patting his back heavily. ‘Season’s greetings to you, my friend. You didn’t tell us you were back?’
‘Literally rocked up last night.’
He nods then scans over to me, taking my hand. ‘A pleasure, completely.’ He kisses my hand and then lets it go, an especially cheeky grin to his face as Leo relents, realising he has to make some introductions.
‘Maggie, this is Stuart. He’s a mate. Of sorts. Stuart, this is…
‘Maggie the boss. Well then, come here, that deserves a hug,’ he says jubilantly, thinking I can’t tell he’s winking at hisfriend over my shoulder. I smile at Leo in shock to be getting such a warm welcome. ‘And “of sorts?” I’m insulted. We went to school together, thick as thieves. Actually, we all went to school together, played football…’
‘Went camping in the quarry?’ I enquire.
‘She already knows too much,’ Stuart laughs.
The selected Santas all wave and introduce themselves, taking a look at who Leo has brought back home and whispering amongst themselves.
‘Am I allowed to ask about the Santa thing here? It’s giving me stag-do vibes? Or have you all been part of a fun run?’
