All I Want for Christmas: a hilarious and heart-warming romance Read online

  ‘Pleasure,’ she replies, with a smile. ‘Have a good night, Nick.’

  I wish her the same and begin my walk home, hoping that she doesn’t see me as some creepy bastard whose main purpose in life is to hang around kids. Sarah has every right to decide who looks after her son, but Jesus, lady, I’m trying to fulfil your child’s Christmas wish here. Give me a chance!

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Coffee and tea in the cupboard above the cooker. Help yourself to whatever you can find.’

  ‘No problem,’ I answer, while I finish setting up my PS4. ‘Just go and have fun. Everything’s under control here.’

  Sarah asks Alfie to run and get his slippers from his room, while Matt hovers around with his hands in his pockets. I can tell he’s both excited and still a little nervous. The only time Matt ever gets nervous is when he’s invested in something going well.

  ‘Bedtime is eight at the latest and he needs supervision with his teeth, or he’ll just wet the toothbrush and pretend he’s done them,’ she says, pulling on her coat. She’s wearing a black dress with cut-out bits on the shoulders. I have no idea what you’d call it, other than hot. I’m almost relieved she’s put her coat on.

  ‘Matt does the same, don’t worry.’

  ‘And my neighbour Mrs Grainger is in the flat above. Number seventy-six. She’s old, but sharp as a tack, so if you run into any emergencies . . .’

  ‘Gotcha.’

  She smiles before looking up the hall to make sure Alfie is out of earshot.

  ‘If he’s not happy for whatever reason, call me and I’ll come right home. Doesn’t matter what it is. I mean, he should be fine, but—’

  Alfie runs back in wearing his Spiderman slippers and bounces on to the couch.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I reply, softly. ‘I’ll take good care of him. I promise.’

  ‘OK. Great,’ she replies, exhaling. ‘I really am grateful you’re doing this. Give Mum a kiss, Alfie, and be good for Nick!’

  ‘I will, Mum,’ he assures her. ‘We’re going to play Just Dance! Nick downloaded it for me!’

  She kisses him on the head and with one last hesitant glance around the flat, she leaves for dinner with Matt.

  ‘You ready to show me your best dance moves?’ I ask.

  ‘Ready, steady, goooooo!’ he replies, leaping off the couch. I press play and the first dance battle begins.

  By 8pm I’m fucking exhausted, and Alfie has been crowned Dance Champion of the Entire World. His words, not mine. I sit on the side of the bath and watch him brush his teeth while he stands on a little stool so he can see the mirror. Sarah’s bathroom is colourful and cosy, with baby blue walls and boat-shaped bath stencils. It’s far more fun than our bathroom at home. You can tell she’s decorated her house with Alfie in mind and it makes me smile. I also noticed a picture in the living room of her and her husband, holding baby Alfie. She looked unbelievably happy. I can see why Alfie would want that back.

  ‘Time for bed, mate,’ I say, as he dries his mouth.

  ‘Do I have to?’

  I nod. ‘I’m afraid so. Besides, you wouldn’t want your mum to get angry at me, would you? She’ll never let me babysit you again! And I need a chance to steal back the dance trophy from you.’

  He chuckles. ‘OK . . . but can I have a story?’

  ‘You bet,’ I reply. ‘That’s the most important part of bedtime.’

  I follow Alfie to his room, which is exactly how I imagined it. Compact and comfortable, with matching Marvel curtains and bedspread. Scattered around are various Pokémon cards, toys and a giant stuffed dog perched at the end of his bed.

  ‘Wow, who is this?’ I ask, picking it up. ‘I’ve never seen such a big dog.’

  ‘Max,’ he replies, climbing into bed. ‘Mum says that one day we can get a real dog, but we’re not allowed pets here.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I reply. ‘So . . . which book are we reading tonight?’

  Alfie leans over and picks up a book from his little bedside table. ‘This one. It’s my favourite. Mum always does funny voices.’

  I sit beside him as he snuggles down and hands me the book. ‘Mud Cake and Magic,’ I read aloud. ‘I like it already.’

  Early one morning, with eyes all bloodshot

  A witch stared into her empty black pot.

  I gasp. ‘A witch? Alfie, is this story going to give me nightmares? I don’t have a Max at home to protect me – only Matt and he’s even scared of spiders.’

  He laughs. ‘No, silly, she’s not a bad witch, you’ll see.’

  ‘Frog’s coming to tea, I’ll make a surprise

  But what does a frog eat, other than flies?’

  Scabby the cat looked up from his bed

  And with one eye open, he grumpily said:

  ‘You cannot cook, and your baking is tragic

  If I were you, I’d try and use magic.’

  ‘This cat is a bit of a grouch.’ I laugh. ‘I think I like him.’

  As I continue reading, Alfie gets very involved, knowing every word by heart and laughing at my attempts to sound like a witch, a cat and eventually a frog. I’m quite proud of myself: for someone who’s never babysat before, I’m killing it.

  So next time a witch asks you to tea

  It’s probably best to say ‘thank you’ and ‘please’.

  It’s never advised to make the mistake

  Of being unkind while eating her cake.

  ‘Wow, that frog wasn’t very . . .’

  I look down and see that Alfie has fallen fast asleep, his little face smooshed into his pillow. I close his book and place it on his table before positioning Max back at the end of his bed to watch over him. I envy his ability to fall asleep so quickly.

  Sarah arrives back at 10.30pm, while Matt waits for me outside in the taxi.

  ‘How was he?’ she asks, peeking her head around his door. ‘Any problems?’

  ‘He was brilliant,’ I reply. ‘We played, we read about a frog’s birthday party, he showed me where you hide the good biscuits – I think it was a roaring success.’

  Her face lights up. ‘God, I’m so pleased! I can’t thank you enough. I usually pay Bianca ten pounds an hour if that’s—’

  ‘Jesus, don’t pay me,’ I respond. ‘It’ll cheapen the whole experience. Besides, I probably ate my wages in Kit Kats anyway.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Pretty sure; you had an entire tin of Kit Kats before I arrived. I didn’t even know they came in tins . . .’

  ‘No, stupid. About the money.’

  I nod, making my way to the front door. ‘Totally. It was either this or sitting alone watching Real Housewives, and there are only so many episodes I can watch before I start resenting that I have to work for a living, when really, I’m much prettier than Heather. Anyway, I’d better shoot if the taxi is waiting. I don’t want Matt to start talking about politics and annoy the driver.’

  Part of me wants to stay. I feel at home here surrounded by Sarah’s quirky artwork and interesting little knick-knacks. I just want to chill out, drink wine and chat shit. She has that effect on me.

  ‘Night, Sarah,’ I say, lifting my PlayStation bag.

  ‘Night, Nick, and thanks again.’

  I zip up my hoodie and rush down to the taxi, where I see Matt in the back, his face illuminated by his phone.

  ‘Alright,’ he says as I climb in, ‘you survived then?’

  ‘Piece of piss,’ I reply. ‘He’s no bother . . . and you?’

  He smiles and shows me a selfie they took together at the restaurant.

  ‘Yeah, we had fun. And you didn’t burn her house down or anything, so I’ve probably earned bonus points.’

  ‘I’m glad it’s working out, man.’

  He puts his phone away and glances up at her window as we d
rive off. ‘Me too, and it’s really nice taking it slow for a change. Normally, I’d be inviting her back to ours already. Not that I haven’t thought about it but—’

  ‘Can you stop off at this petrol station, please?’ I yell at the driver, cutting Matt off. I don’t need to hear that when I haven’t had sex in five months. It feels like a lifetime; I can barely walk past the underwear window displays in Marks and Spencer without getting a semi. I nip into the garage and buy some crisps and a sandwich I don’t really want before returning to the taxi. I’ll save them for lunch tomorrow.

  I finally crawl into bed at midnight and as usual, my mind is racing. However, among the typical bullshit, there’s one image that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake – and it’s Sarah in that black dress.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Ice skating is romantic, right?’

  I wipe the Guinness froth from my lip and furrow my brow. We’re at the local pub – our weekly Sunday afternoon ritual. It started with rugby season at uni, but we never really stopped, even after we moved to London. When we both worked at Kensington Fox, we didn’t see much of each other in the evenings, so our Sundays were pretty sacred. Granted, Matt now has to buy both rounds, and I have to sprint to the grotto for our 2pm opening, but it’s still the highlight of my week.

  Our pub conversations have gotten decidedly more Mills & Boon since Matt started dating Sarah. Gone are the days of who shagged who at the union karaoke night or complaining about Harriet using a fork to chip off whatever monstrosity she had accidentally fused to one of Matt’s decent non-stick frying pans.

  ‘Ice skating? Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Well, unless you’re Tonya Harding.’

  ‘I mean for a date. It’s romantic, isn’t it? Classy.’

  ‘Yep. Totally. Nothing screams romance quite like public humiliation and a bruised arse.’

  He frowns. ‘But you see it all the time in movies. Couples holding hands while they skate, kids playing, catching the other person, snow falling and all that shit—’

  ‘Matt, if you want to take me ice skating, just ask. This is getting embarrassing.’

  ‘Shut up. I just don’t want to suggest it to Sarah if it’s a lame idea. I suggested bowling last week and she wasn’t particularly keen.’

  I smirk. ‘Probably because she’s not twelve.’

  ‘I just wanted to find something that Alfie could do with us—’

  ‘Look, I’m sure she’ll like this idea, and unlike me, you can actually skate, so there’s that . . . just don’t do all that fancy speed skating crap. It’s very unnerving.’

  ‘Noted,’ he replies, pulling out his phone. ‘Though my parents will be very disappointed that all those summers in ice hockey camp are going to waste. I’ll see what she says.’

  I sit quietly while he texts Sarah, briefly imagining a life where your parents could afford to send you to summer camp. My mum could barely afford to send me to swimming lessons.

  Once finished, he puts his phone on the table and takes a sip of his drink. ‘Sarah says hi.’

  ‘Nice. Is she up for frozen water and sharp blades whizzing past her small child?’

  ‘She is indeed,’ he replies, happily. ‘We’re going Saturday night. And you’re coming with us.’

  ‘No chance.’ I laugh. ‘You can flutter those lashes at me all you like, the answer is no.’

  ‘Oh, come on! It’ll be fun,’ he persists. ‘After all the help I’ve given you this year, chucking on some skates is the least you can do.’

  ‘Actually, the least I could do is Amazon Prime and a calzone.’

  ‘I’m taking that as a yes, then.’

  ‘Fine,’ I concede as his increasingly annoying little face grins back at me. ‘You know, I’ve never seen you put this much effort in with any other woman.’

  ‘She’s not just any other woman though.’ He takes a sip of his pint. ‘I haven’t felt this way about anyone since . . . well, you know . . . and it’s all down to you.’

  ‘It is, isn’t it? I’m like the hero you never knew you needed.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that—’

  ‘Your knight in shining loafers.’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘I’m trying to say thank you here! You’re a good friend, Nick. Though technically you’re my knight in scuffed Nikes. You definitely can’t pull off loafers.’

  I laugh and hold my hands up. ‘Alright! Seriously though, I’m really happy it’s working out with Sarah.’

  ‘Cheers, mate.’

  ‘But if for some reason it doesn’t stick, I think I should choose all your future girlfriends. I obviously have a knack for this shit.’

  He nods but the look on his face tells me that my services might not be required for a very long time, if ever again.

  ‘This is a horrible idea,’ I tell Matt for the third time as we reach Hyde Park. ‘Couldn’t you have just taken her to the cinema like a normal, unimaginative boyfriend? Or sit in and watch TV?’

  ‘It’ll be fun. We’ll grab a hot dog, do some skating—’

  ‘You know I’m shit at skating. My balance is questionable on dry land at the best of times. I’m going to look like fucking Bambi.’

  ‘You’ll be fine; stop being such a pussy. It’s ice skating, not tightrope walking, no one cares what you look like. There’s Sarah and Alfie, hurry up.’

  I curse him under my breath as we approach them, plastering on a smile so that Alfie doesn’t see just how unhappy I am with this entire situation. The last time I went ice skating was on a school trip in 1999 and I fell so often I was forced to go around the rink holding the teacher’s hand. That’s enough ice-based humiliation to last a lifetime.

  Alfie waves enthusiastically, obviously having the best time before we’ve even begun. I smile as I notice that both Sarah and Alfie are wearing matching monkey hats; it’s rather charming.

  ‘That was good timing,’ Sarah says, leaning in to kiss Matt. ‘We’ve just arrived. I think half of London is here already. Doesn’t it look amazing though?’

  She’s right. The park is brightly lit as far as the eye can see, and buzzing with fairground rides, markets, food stalls and, of course, the ice rink. Just hundreds of people with weapons for shoes, sliding dangerously close to each other. Fricking magical. My stomach drops at the thought of it. I’d rather bungee jump off the side of the big wheel.

  ‘Have you been skating before, Alfie?’ Matt asks as we stroll through the fairy light walkway.

  ‘Yes,’ he replies, swinging his mum’s hand. ‘We went to Buckingham Palace. Mum fell a lot.’

  ‘Alexandra Palace,’ Sarah corrects. ‘But the other part is entirely true. I was frequently horizontal. Thankfully, his friend’s mum was there to take over while I stuck to the side.’

  ‘Looks like you and Nick will have something in common then,’ Matt replies, laughing. God, he’s such a dick sometimes.

  Sarah turns around to face me. ‘You can’t skate either?’

  I shake my head. ‘Like a newborn calf,’ I inform her. ‘Luckily, Matt is proficient in both skating and taking the piss out of me.’

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ she replies. ‘I thought I was going to be the only one looking like a halfwit. We can clamber around together, while this pair show us how it’s done. Give Alfie one of those little penguin Zimmer frame things and he’s off like a shot.’

  Knowing that I might not be the only loser out there, I suddenly start to feel better. If Sarah is willing to make a tit of herself, then so am I.

  As the speakers blast out some obscure disco track from the eighties, we place our shoes in a locker before strapping ourselves into our boots and attempting to stand upright. It’s been over twenty years since I last put a pair of these on, but I haven’t forgotten how awkward they make me feel. Sarah wobbles beside Matt before grabbing his arm. He may not be twirling her around in the ai
r exactly, but it’s pretty romantic all the same.

  Alfie, unsteady and swaying, stomps towards the edge of the rink, desperate to get on the ice, while Sarah yells for him to slow down and wait. He’s a hundred times more fearless than me, which is rather embarrassing. I need to get a grip here. Literally.

  I finally hobble out on to the ice and immediately grab the side to steady myself. Under the twinkling canopy, ‘Dancing Queen’ blasts from the sound system, almost drowned out by the skaters who are having a whale of a time. I spot my first faller. Then another, and finally another who takes her mate down with her. They both sit on the ice, laughing too much to successfully get up.

  Alfie has nabbed a penguin and is skating happily beside Matt, while Sarah props up the barrier beside me.

  ‘Matt’s really good, isn’t he?’ she remarks as he skates backwards, helping a rosy-faced Alfie along.

  ‘Yeah, he’s been skating for years,’ I reply as her eyes follow them around the rink. ‘Listen, don’t feel you have to stay here with me. Go and join them.’

  She nods. ‘I will in a minute. Once my feet start moving in the same direction.’

  I tentatively let go for a moment but regret it instantly. I start to laugh from frustration and/or paralysing fear.

  ‘GAH! This is ridiculous,’ I exclaim. ‘I abseiled down a fucking building at uni! Why is this so daunting?’

  Sarah starts to laugh too. ‘I have no idea. It’s like, I know what falling feels like, I’ve done it before . . . there’s no big mystery here . . . look, that guy just tumbled and he’s about five years away from a nursing home. God, I’m such a wuss.’

  Matt and Alfie disappear into the crowd, leaving us to battle our fears alone. Sarah is the first one to break.

  ‘Right. Let’s just go for it.’

  I grimace. ‘What? Like just go? Skate? Out there?’

  ‘Yep. Balls to the wall. Arse to the floor. What’s the worst that can happen?’

  ‘People point and laugh at us and then we end up on YouTube where more people will point and—’