Read Online The Christmas Spirit by Susan Buchanan - Free Book Online

time.’
    They sat down to eat their cake and drink their tea, both
hoping Stanley would go to the club and find some company.
    Meredith sat back down at her desk, fuming. Bloody girl, and flavour of the month over at the bakery .
She barely tasted her carrot cake; she was so wound up. Afterwards, she
remembered the array of delicious cakes in the bakery and resolved that
occasionally she would go herself. It would give Sophie time to fax something
or print off another report. She, Meredith, could get out of the office and
stretch her legs, choose one of the other cakes. She scarcely had time to
remember her own name most days, never mind spend ten minutes deliberating over
which cake to choose. She could have and perhaps should have sent one of her
other minions out to get her order, but the truth was, she hated delegating.
She only trusted Sophie to do things right. Meredith continued to batter the
keys on her laptop as if they were her mortal enemy until her receptionist
announced her final meeting of the day.
     

 
     
    Chapter Ten
     
     
    6th December
    Sophie felt terrible. Her whole body felt like it had gone
into shutdown. She could barely move yet that bitch, Meredith, had made it
quite clear she had better be there for the presentation today. She was much
worse than yesterday but she couldn’t afford to lose her job, so she dragged
herself out of bed, stood under a hot shower for a good twenty minutes and then
applied enough makeup so that she couldn’t be mistaken for someone in their
death throes.
    ‘I see you’ve graced us with your presence,’ Meredith said
sarcastically, turning on her heel, expecting Sophie to follow. Sophie shot
Meredith a look which could have killed her if she’d turned around.
    As Sophie took off her coat, Meredith barked instructions at
her. Generally Sophie was like a sponge and could absorb multiple details with
ease, but today she was fuzzy and her brain felt woolly. She had difficulty
just functioning, yet Meredith was doing her usual, rat-a-tatting orders at
her. She felt like telling her to f** * off , but
stopped herself just in time, but oh how satisfying it would be. If only she
didn’t need this job...
    Stanley stood outside the old folks’ home, unsure, now that
he was here, that he would be brave enough to go in. He was a shy man really,
and what if they were all nuts? What if it was full of people with mental
illness and degenerative diseases? Naturally he felt for them, but he wasn’t at
that stage. He didn’t want to go to use the toilet and find a woman sitting
with the door open and her pants around her ankles. His decision was soon made
for him as Cathy, the fundraiser, arrived behind him and said, ‘Here for the
club, are we? Good stuff. In you go, you’ll have a great time. Angus and George
will be there already, if I’m not mistaken; always the early birds.’
    Stanley stood, his mouth agape, then meekly preceded Cathy
into the building. She ushered him down a corridor until they entered a large,
airy room, with a vaulted ceiling. The building had originally been listed and
had previously belonged to the church. True enough, two men sat playing cards;
rummy.
    ‘This is Angus,’ Cathy said, indicating a portly gentleman
of around seventy wearing a heavy cable knit navy sweater and grey trousers.
    ‘Hello,’ Angus raised his hand in greeting, careful to
shield his cards from them all.
    ‘And this is George.’ Cathy pointed out the other man, who
wore an immaculate white shirt with a chocolate coloured waistcoat, and
trousers of a slightly lighter shade. The most notable feature about him was
his enormous handlebar moustache, which gave him the air of a sergeant major.
    ‘Nice to meet you.’ George shook his hand; such a firm grip,
Stanley noticed.
    ‘I’m Stanley,’ he almost whispered, then louder, ‘Stanley
Winters.’
    ‘Winters, is it? That’s a great name for now, with all this
snow.’ George let out a hearty laugh.
    Stanley smiled,