‘Bye ...’ He waits until the car moves off before loping off into the house without looking back. Well, OK, that’s it, I guess.
The ensuing surge of emotion at his nonchalance hits me by surprise, and I give myself a strong talking-to as we head towards the entranceway. My heart feels like it’s being stabbed with a fondue fork. Making small talk with Allan while fighting back tears isn’t easy either. My replies either come out as guinea pig grunts, or I give erratic head nods. It’s the longest hour of my life.
At the station, Allan hands me my bag. ‘It’s been so great to spend time with you, Holly. And I hope you’re all right about that TikTok nonsense. Just put it out of your mind. We certainly have.’ He gives me one of his famous bear hugs as a parting gesture.
I swallow hard so I don’t burst into tears and do another erratic head nod against his chest.
‘Hopefully, we see you when we pop down to Edinburgh in the new year for a visit,’ he says.
‘Sounds awesome! Thanks so much for the lift, Allan!’ I guinea pig squeal, and Crumpet and I trot off into the station as fast as our legs can carry us.
Inside, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. It’s over. The weirdest Christmas I’ve ever had in my life is finally over! Maybe next year, I will go to London. Christmas with my foster family is awful, but at least it’s predictably awful.
When I arrive back at my flat after the four-hour train journey, it’s dark as night even though it’s only early afternoon. I flick on the lights and stand in the lounge with my bag, feeling disorientated. Crumpet runs around, sniffing all the furniture. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I do the human version of reacquainting with my home: unpacking.
The flat still shows signs of my hurried departure before Christmas. There’s a mess of clothing on my bed from the flurry of last-minute packing. An upturned water glass on the kitchen counter reminds me of rehydrating madly after the night of tequila drinking. Thankfully, the horror of the TikTok has faded at last, and I’m praying I don’t have any blowback from it. The last thing I need now is to get fired, especially after I managed to get a love life, then somehow lost it.
Crumpet pads past and dips his head to lap from the water bowl I’ve just filled. The green tinsel bow on his collar glistens, and I know I should remove it, but I can’t make myself. Bailey put it there, and it’s my only reminder of him.
Why did it all go so wrong?
Just because I asked what was going on?
I obviously opened a can of worms with my question, but it was still the right decision to clarify things. I’m glad I did. At least I know there’s not going to be anus,so I’m saved from waiting around and hoping.
It’s an effort, but I force myself to visit the local Tesco and buy some groceries, a few things to tide me over until I’m in a better state of mind to order a larger shop. I walk around the store like I’m an alien dropped in from another planet. But once I’ve heated up some tomato soup, buttered some toast, and turned on the telly, I start to feel human again. After a few good nights’ sleep, I’m sure I’ll be back to normal in no time.
But that night, I have a dream or, should I say, a vision because it’s so real. Bailey and I are in the tree house, and we’re sitting in the rattan chairs. I’m telling him how I’m stuck in a rut and don’t know what to do. Bailey’s wearing those ridiculous elf ears and appears to be listening intently. With a serene expression on his face, he smiles and says, ‘Holly, you can do anything you put your mind to. We believe in you.’
I wake with a start, hollow despair in the pit of my stomach, knowing I’m never going to see him again. Why couldn’t I just go with the flow and keep my big mouth shut? Now he’s probably lying in bed with his arms around Andrea after an evening of birthday cake and whisky nightcaps. I cry myself back to sleep with bitter tears of self-loathing.
However, in the morning, I feel better. Crumpet jumps up on my bed and snuggles in. I breathe deeply. I’m OK. Everything’s OK. No one’s died. Perhaps Bailey and I weren’t meant to be together, but there’s a lesson I can take away from the dream. There are people out there willing to believe in me, even when I am at my worst. Maybe I can turn the TikTok experience around and have something good come out of it? Make lemonade out of lemons, as they say? Suddenly, an idea pops into my brain. I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Later that day
I adjust my phone to make sure I’m in frame. I’m wearing the black dress with batwing sleeves from the party to remind people of who I am. The account name I’ve set up is @UnjollyHolly.
This is my third attempt at recording a TikTok, and I’m beginning to wish I had some tequila stashed in the cupboard for Dutch courage. But no, I have to do this sober, or no one’s going to take me seriously. I just need to relax and be myself.
Pushing the round red ‘record’ button, I straighten my shoulders and smile. ‘Hey, so you may have seen my anti-Christmas rant, which has been doing the rounds on TikTok. I just want to come on and say yes, I hate the commercialism of Christmas. But even more, I hate what we’re doing to the planet. I’m a project manager who’s been working on a sustainability initiative with a local Edinburgh hotel, so I thought it would be cool to give some insights into that. For instance, did you know the duvet inner I was sitting on in that video is made from recycled plastic bottles? How crazy is that? There are more eco-friendly changes happening around the city too, some of which may surprise you. So stay tuned!’
With a shaking finger, I press the ‘stop recording’ button. Whoa, I think that’s the one. I watch it back, and it’s fine. Casual, relaxed, not too frowny. There’s something to be said for being in control and not wearing a shower cap or wielding a hairdryer. Eat your heart out, Greta Thunberg.
I should probably get the OK from Lewis before I talk more about what they’re doing. But I can’t foresee a problem. I’m not muscling in on his personal foodie vids. His hotel is going to get exposure, and well ... he owes me.
Even if I don’t get loads of followers, views, or comments, it just feels good to be doing something positive and be known for something other than a grinch. I don’t want to be remembered for that.
As I’m a new account, TikTok gives my video a special push to start me off. Within an hour, I’m up to 500 views, ten likes, twelve followers, and three comments:
Climate change sux! Eggnog is the worst!
Just followed! Love your vibe.
You're raw and real and I relate so much!
Harmony washes over me. People are responding and resonating in a good way. I’m not a social pariah. This could actually be fun.
Another comment pops up:
