Chapter 26
IZZY
‘Two more sleeps until Santa comes!’
‘Hello, Mo.’ From the muffled sound of music in the background, I guess Mo is calling from a bar somewhere.
‘God, you sound like the ghost of Christmas dreary, deary.’
‘I feel... ’
‘Bah humbug?’
‘Actually, I feel a little bit icky. I wonder if I’m coming down with something.’
‘No, I refuse to believe that. You’re just wallowing.’ Sure, so my sore head and general fatigue is all in my imagination. But, then again, I haven’t been sleeping well recently. ‘You should’ve come out,’ he adds, his almost demand pretty strident. ‘Uncle Mo always knows how to get your party started.’
‘Uncle Mo bats for the wrong team to start my party. Did you forget?’
‘Uncle Mo remembers clearly. You have neither the bat nor the balls for my team, but meant champagne, my fabulous flame dame. Champagne always cheers you up.’
‘No, you cheer me up.’ While we’re drinking champagne, usually. ‘It’s just that I’m not in the mood and I think I’d be horrible company. Anyway,’ I add with a little forced lightness in my tone, ‘I’m having a party on my own right now.’ I look down at the little wooden cheeseboard I’d picked up this afternoon in Waitrose. I haven’t yet booked any cooking classes, but I’ve started to buy food to store in the fridge. It looks quite nice sitting alongside my night cream.
‘It doesn’t sound like a very lively party.’
‘That’s because it’s a very grown-up sort of party. I’m having a cheese and wine party for one.’
Mo’s laughter trills down the line. ‘It’s barely ten yet. Why don’t you grab an Uber and meet us in Soho?’
‘Because I’m in my pyjamas. And I’m in a bad mood.’ Bad mood sounds better than sad mood, so I’ll stick with that.
‘The Scotsman?’
‘The Scotsman,’ I agree in a heavy tone.
‘Why just you just pull up your big girl knickers and call him?’
‘I would—I had every intention to. I was going to call him lots and lots and bug the bejesus out of him, because I know we could be good together.’ Despite his morose reservations. ‘But he didn’t even call to see if I got back okay. Not a word or a text, not even a note by carrier pigeon. So why should I bother?’
‘Well, because you’re bothered. And you’re going to allow it to spoil Christmas if you don’t do something about it soon. And I refuse to have you in my house Christmas Morning pining like a teenager over a boy band member.’
‘That’s not fair.’ He’s far too rugged and manly to be in boy band.
‘I’ve got two days,’ I reply. ‘Two days to plot his demise.’
‘I’m also not bailing you out over Christmas either. Buck up, buttercup! Go get your man ... or something.’
‘You’re just saying that because you fancy men in kilts.’
‘True, darling, true. I think it’s the easy access. Bend them over and off you go!’
‘Nothing to do with you fancying Will?’
‘Now there’s a lost cause. Can’t make the straight one’s gay, no matter how hard you try. Except for those dipping into the waters bromosexual wise, and Will was never going to be into that. He’s too big a fan of the vagina.’
‘You’d think being a gynaecologist would be enough to put him off for life.’
‘Well, apparently not.’ His deep sigh sounds down the line. ‘Be daring, Izzy. Make the first move. What’s the worst that can happen?’
