Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
"What did the Policeman say to the stomach?" She smiled delightfully.
"I don't know, Mum, what did the Policeman say to the stomach?" Harry threw a sideways glance at Nikki, who had been struggling for the past few hours to not laugh at his ridiculous jumper, and the reindeer antlers Mrs C had insisted he wore.
"You're under a vest!"
"That's rubbish," The look of irritation that spread across his face was the last straw for her, and she couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Nikki doesn't seem to think so," He turned to look at his best friend, who was clutching her stomach, laughing, with tears rolling down her face. "Are you ok, dear?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Nikki coughed, trying to bring her fit to an end. Harry's phone rang.
"Leo," He said, before answering. "Hi,"
"Hello. I'm really sorry, but we won't be able to come over. Janet doesn't think it's safe driving in the snow, and she thinks it might get even heavier and we'll never get home. She's probably right,"
"Snow?"
"Yes, snow, have you not looked outside?"
"Apparently not,"
"Well, enjoy the rest of your day,"
"You too Leo,"
"Tell your Mum we're very sorry,"
"Don't worry about it, she'll understand,"
"Thanks. Bye, Harry,"
"Bye," He hung up.
"What did he want?"
"They won't be able to come after all, too much snow,"
"Snow?" Nikki shot up out of her seat, running out of the window-less dining room into the kitchen. "HARRY, HAVE YOU GOT ANY WELLIES?"
Lonely this Christmas
He'd considered going to Leo and Janet's, they seemed like they genuinely wanted him there when they suggested over dinner; but he thought he might feel a little out of place at the big family gathering they were planning. From what he could gather, Janet's siblings and their offspring were coming, and of course, it was little Tom's first Christmas – Harry couldn't help thinking that they'd want to fuss over their son, not deal with their depressed colleague.
He politely declined their offer – making up something about staying with an Uncle. Nikki hadn't believed him, but she'd managed to stay quiet about it to Leo, thankfully.
Which was how he'd ended up sat alone; staring at the tiny fibre-optic tree he'd bought last minute from B&Q, a pathetic attempt at festivity. At one point, he'd thought about venturing up into the loft at his empty childhood home, to hunt down the various large boxes of decorations that were usually brought down every year; in the end, he never did. Mum would have been really angry. She liked making a big deal of Christmas.
He took a drink from his bottle, before focusing his attention back onto the TV. He didn't stay focused for long. The doorbell rang.
Reluctantly, he pulled himself up and made his way towards the door; which looked bare, lacking any wreath. He hadn't expected the Chinese to arrive so quickly.
He stood dumbfounded.
"I brought wine," She held the plastic carrier bag up. "And 'It's a Wonderful Life',"
"I thought you were with Mark and his family?"
"Clearly not,"
"You didn't have to cancel your date to come watch films with me," Secretly, he'd never been so glad to see her in his life.
"I figured nobody should be alone on Christmas,"
"Do you know how cliché that is?"
"Are you going to let me in?"
Happy Xmas (War is Over)
He looked out of the window, happy to have a break from entertaining Tom. He loved his godson very much, and he couldn't deny that he was possibly the cutest child he'd ever seen, but he was incredibly draining.
"Slacking off?" Janet asked, handing him a glass of wine.
"I'll get back to duties soon enough,"
"Good. We only invited you so you could babysit him whilst we had fun, anyway,"
"Nice to know," He smiled at her, and then returned his gaze to the drizzle outside the window.
"Thinking about her?"
"Who?"
"Nikki," He stayed silent. "You should just say sorry,"
"I'm not entirely sure what I'm apologizing for,"
"Acting like a royal arse," He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "Don't deny it. Now, either you tell her why you did it – aka, you're jealous of her having a long-term boyfriend who poses a threat to the, frankly incredibly frustrating, sexual tension thing you've got going on,"
"I am not..."
"Or, you just apologize and begin acting like a real best friend, instead of a jilted lover,"
"Janet, I'm..."
"It's Christmas, Harry, be nice." She patted his shoulder affectionately, before leaving him.
He stared at his phone for a long time before actually pressing the green button.
"Hello?"
"Erm...hi,"
"What do you want Harry?"
"I..." He considered the two options Janet had given him. "I'm sorry," Chicken.
"For?"
"Being a horrible friend,"
"Oh,"
"Christmas truce?" There was silence; he crossed his fingers in desperation.
"Truce,"
All I Want for Christmas is You
"Better or worse than Mark's?"
"Come on, Harry," She moaned.
"What? It's a fair question,"
"Asking me whether I prefer spending Christmas with my friends and fiancée, or with my fiancée's family, is a fair question?"
"Yes,"
"You're an idiot,"
"Ok," He grinned; he was far too drunk to have been left alone with her. "Better or worse?"
"The same,"
"That's a lie,"
"No it's not,"
"Ok," He grinned again. "Did you prefer Christmas with me and my Mum or Christmas with him and his?"
"That Christmas with your Mum was lovely, Harry," For a minute she felt sorry for him – the layers of pain and loneliness in his eyes made her question whether she could have been a better friend to him. But he was the one who'd pushed her away, acting like a 3 year old at every given opportunity. She used to think maybe he was jealous of Mark because he wanted something more from her, something that Mark stopped him getting. But she'd since realised she was wrong. She'd abandoned Mark and came to his doorstep on Christmas. Was that not invitation enough to make his move? It clearly wasn't her he needed.
"But which was lovelier?"
"Shut up,"
He did what she commanded – for a little while anyway.
"Did you get what you asked for?"
"What?" She found herself wishing the cold that prevented her from going out in the snow with the rest of them would magically heal itself.
"Did Santa bring what you asked for?"
"Yes, Harry,"
"Aren't you gunna ask me?"
"Did Santa bring you what you asked for, Harry?" She repeated, monotonously.
"Nope,"
"Poor you,"
"Aren't you going to ask what I wanted?"
"What did you want, Harry?"
He leant in, and she couldn't help but scrunch her nose up at the smell of wine that radiated off him. His lips grazed hers for no longer than second.
"You," He gulped, failing to understand why she suddenly became rigid.
"You had your chance 2 years ago,"
"That was my chance?"
"Yes,"
"That was a rubbish chance!"
"You didn't take it,"
"What if I wanted to? What if I was too scared then?"
"Hey, Nikki," Someone called from another part of the house. She looked up at him, resisting the temptation to touch his quivering lips. "Niks, where are you?"
"Coming!" She called, wiping a singular tear from her eye and tearing herself away from him before anymore damage could be done.
Last Christmas
He'd declined Leo and Janet. Last year had been a disaster, and he had a feeling that, knowing his luck, history would probably repeat itself.
This year, he'd tried a little harder with the decorations in his flat. He'd had to clean out the house once it had finally sold, and he'd eventually found the boxes up in the loft – china Santa's that had once been pride of place on the mantelpiece had been left to collect dust. He hadn't themed his tree – something which would have made her happy, he thought. He'd themed their tree red and gold the first, and only, year he'd be allowed to be in charge of decorating – she'd said it looked like it belonged in a department store, and promptly removed every bauble, and replaced them with the random ornaments they'd each collected over the years.
He smiled at the sight of his junior school star sour dough creation, hanging from one of the branches.
This year, also, he'd decided not to think about Nikki. He knew resolutions were meant for New Year's, but last year he'd been too drunk to make any, and long ago he'd realised things always seemed worse with Nikki at Christmas. Something about the festive season led him to embark on various stupid acts. Stupid acts that this year were even more likely to occur, now they were both single.
He also resolved not to get drunk. Well, not too drunk. There was nothing good about getting drunk alone, and, through experience, there was very little good about getting drunk with others.
When his house phone rang, he ignored it, and let the answer machine kick in.
"I thought you'd be at home," Great, so much for that resolution. Although, it wasn't really his fault – he hadn't asked her to call. "I guess you're with Leo and Janet," Ha, fooled you, he though triumphantly. "I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. So...err...well, Merry Christmas," The machine cut off with a resounding bleep.
He settled back into his sofa; then the phone rang again. He cursed. He just wanted to watch 'The Royle Family' and then sleep. Was it too much to ask?
He let the machine answer for him, again.
"That was a lie," He wondered why she hadn't thought of ringing his mobile. "I was thinking about this year...and us...as friends...our friendship being ruined and...then I was thinking about last Christmas, and what you said...well, what you did. I...I wondered if that was my chance. My only chance." She paused for a long time. "I just wanted to ask you that. And if it was...my only chance, I mean...I...I wanted to ask if I could have a second one, and I thought maybe..." The machine cut off.
He brushed it aside. She was lonely – everybody got lonely at Christmas. She was left with only him to turn to – he was bottom of the heap, and she was desperate.
The phone rang again. By this point, he struggled to find a logical reason for not picking up the phone and simply having a conversation with her – it would probably be a lot more helpful. But, stubborn as he was, he let the machine do the work for him.
"Stupid time limit. Harry, I'm sorry. For messing things up and hurting you. Not that you're free of blame, of course – you hardly picked the right time to finally tell me. But I...I didn't mean to break your heart," He laughed bitterly – she didn't just break it, she trampled on it, and squished it to a pulp. "I just wanted to know if it was my chance." She mumbled her last words, and the sound of the end of the message rung around his flat again.
Why did she always get under his skin?
He tried to revert his attention back to Barbara and Jim.
He failed.
He sighed, standing up from his comfortable lounging place, and began to search for his coat.
Sometimes, a man just has to swallow his pride.
And anyway, he told himself, nobody should be alone on Christmas.
Then he told himself off for being so cliché.
Merry Christmas everyone!