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Authors: Nicola May
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it.
‘And good evening to you too, dear friend.’ Evie managed a smile. ‘It’s this bloody cold. I need medicine.’
‘Lucky they’ve got it here then.’ Bea pointed to the sweet brown syrup sloshing around in her friend’s glass.
‘Anyone would think I was a freak, liking sherry.’
‘Or maybe eighty-five.’ Bea winked at the barman, who gave her a wry smile. She had always had a penchant for men much younger than herself. And Evie only wished she could have half the man-eating qualities as her friend.
They both laughed.
‘Well, at least you’re smiling,’ Evie said to her friend.
‘I can’t believe the dick, to be honest.’
‘Tell me about it, Bea. But the sad thing is, I wasn’t surprised really.’
‘Yeah, I know. It hasn’t been a bed of roses, but I did think you’d work it through. How are you feeling after sleeping on it, anyway?’
‘Hmm. Well, I cried when he told me last night, but I haven’t cried since. If I’m true to myself I think I lost that loving feeling weeks ago. We were rarely having sex, and when we did I could tell his mind was elsewhere. I guess I didn’t want to face the fact that I had another failed relationship on my hands.’
‘Oh, Evie.’
‘And I’ve literally got no money. Well, apart from a month’s pay and the money Darren the Dickhead left for me for rent. Most of which I intend to spend over Christmas to drown my sorrows.’
‘I’m here for you, you know that.’
‘I could always sell my camera.’
‘You, my friend, are so not doing that. You know how much you love your photography – it keeps you sane. And there is work out there. In fact, I’m going to make sure we get you a new job and a new knob before January’s out.’
Evie nearly spat her sherry out. ‘What are you like? That is hilarious. But look at me: thirty-two and single on Christmas Eve. Unemployed and living in rented accommodation I can’t afford. I mean, it can’t get much worse, can it?’
‘Oh, I’m sure it could.’ A deep voice broke in between them.
‘Sorry?’ Bea made a questioning face at the stranger now in front of them.
‘It could get worse if you wanted it to.’
The interloper was around six foot, in his early forties, had blue eyes with crinkly lines around them, a wide-mouthed smile, cropped dark hair and a small heart-shaped birthmark on his cheek. He noticed Evie staring at it.
‘It has been more of a talking point rather than an avoidance point with the ladies, I’ve found.’ His crinkly eyes were endearing and Evie felt herself turn as red as the Christmas lights flashing behind the bar.
‘I… er…’
He laughed. ‘I’m Greg and I’m slightly drunk, hence the bold interruption.’
‘I’m Evie, also slightly drunk, and this is Bea, soon to be as drunk as the both of us. And what did you mean about it could get worse? I’ve just been jilted. I need my mood lightening, thanks.’
‘Well, it could get worse because rather than be sat in a cosy house with plentiful alcohol and your roast turkey tomorrow, you could come and help me at the homeless shelter I manage. We’re a man down.’
‘And what makes you think that I’m such a saddo that I wouldn’t have plans on Christmas Day?’
‘These big flappy ears of mine, which couldn’t help hearing about your tale of woe, that’s what. But I’m not completely heartless: I am truly sorry to hear about your predicament.’ He placed his hand on Evie’s shoulder gently.
‘Well unfortunately for you,’ she said, ‘I do have plans actually.’
Bea took in Greg’s handsome features and calm demeanour. He would be a perfect distraction for her pretty friend. And actually, she could tell already that Evie was quite taken with him.
‘You don’t any more, Evie. There’s no room at my dining table from this very minute. My… er… Auntie Flo’s turkey has just escaped from the kitchen. She and Uncle Pete are having to come to me now.’
‘Great!’ Evie and Greg uttered
‘And good evening to you too, dear friend.’ Evie managed a smile. ‘It’s this bloody cold. I need medicine.’
‘Lucky they’ve got it here then.’ Bea pointed to the sweet brown syrup sloshing around in her friend’s glass.
‘Anyone would think I was a freak, liking sherry.’
‘Or maybe eighty-five.’ Bea winked at the barman, who gave her a wry smile. She had always had a penchant for men much younger than herself. And Evie only wished she could have half the man-eating qualities as her friend.
They both laughed.
‘Well, at least you’re smiling,’ Evie said to her friend.
‘I can’t believe the dick, to be honest.’
‘Tell me about it, Bea. But the sad thing is, I wasn’t surprised really.’
‘Yeah, I know. It hasn’t been a bed of roses, but I did think you’d work it through. How are you feeling after sleeping on it, anyway?’
‘Hmm. Well, I cried when he told me last night, but I haven’t cried since. If I’m true to myself I think I lost that loving feeling weeks ago. We were rarely having sex, and when we did I could tell his mind was elsewhere. I guess I didn’t want to face the fact that I had another failed relationship on my hands.’
‘Oh, Evie.’
‘And I’ve literally got no money. Well, apart from a month’s pay and the money Darren the Dickhead left for me for rent. Most of which I intend to spend over Christmas to drown my sorrows.’
‘I’m here for you, you know that.’
‘I could always sell my camera.’
‘You, my friend, are so not doing that. You know how much you love your photography – it keeps you sane. And there is work out there. In fact, I’m going to make sure we get you a new job and a new knob before January’s out.’
Evie nearly spat her sherry out. ‘What are you like? That is hilarious. But look at me: thirty-two and single on Christmas Eve. Unemployed and living in rented accommodation I can’t afford. I mean, it can’t get much worse, can it?’
‘Oh, I’m sure it could.’ A deep voice broke in between them.
‘Sorry?’ Bea made a questioning face at the stranger now in front of them.
‘It could get worse if you wanted it to.’
The interloper was around six foot, in his early forties, had blue eyes with crinkly lines around them, a wide-mouthed smile, cropped dark hair and a small heart-shaped birthmark on his cheek. He noticed Evie staring at it.
‘It has been more of a talking point rather than an avoidance point with the ladies, I’ve found.’ His crinkly eyes were endearing and Evie felt herself turn as red as the Christmas lights flashing behind the bar.
‘I… er…’
He laughed. ‘I’m Greg and I’m slightly drunk, hence the bold interruption.’
‘I’m Evie, also slightly drunk, and this is Bea, soon to be as drunk as the both of us. And what did you mean about it could get worse? I’ve just been jilted. I need my mood lightening, thanks.’
‘Well, it could get worse because rather than be sat in a cosy house with plentiful alcohol and your roast turkey tomorrow, you could come and help me at the homeless shelter I manage. We’re a man down.’
‘And what makes you think that I’m such a saddo that I wouldn’t have plans on Christmas Day?’
‘These big flappy ears of mine, which couldn’t help hearing about your tale of woe, that’s what. But I’m not completely heartless: I am truly sorry to hear about your predicament.’ He placed his hand on Evie’s shoulder gently.
‘Well unfortunately for you,’ she said, ‘I do have plans actually.’
Bea took in Greg’s handsome features and calm demeanour. He would be a perfect distraction for her pretty friend. And actually, she could tell already that Evie was quite taken with him.
‘You don’t any more, Evie. There’s no room at my dining table from this very minute. My… er… Auntie Flo’s turkey has just escaped from the kitchen. She and Uncle Pete are having to come to me now.’
‘Great!’ Evie and Greg uttered
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