Mistletoe and Mayhem: A cosy, chaotic Christmas read!. Catherine Ferguson
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Название: Mistletoe and Mayhem: A cosy, chaotic Christmas read!
Автор: Catherine Ferguson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежный юмор
isbn: 9780008142223
isbn:
She enquires casually, as if she’s really not that interested, but I have a nasty feeling she’s about to start lecturing me on her Frontal Lobe Theory.
I laugh, hoping to distract her. ‘Ooh, call the police! Because he’s obviously a psychopath. A very healthy one, mind you.’
‘Hannibal Lecter was a bit of a gourmet.’
‘What?’
‘And that slime he makes you drink …’ She mimes throwing up.
‘It’s not slime, it’s vitamins. And he doesn’t make me drink it!’ I plonk my plate on the table. ‘Honestly, Barb, it’s not a crime to be healthy. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Didn’t you know?’
‘An apple a day can keep anyone away,’ she says darkly. ‘If you throw it hard enough.’
As a rule, Barb’s a really good judge of character. So her aversion to Nathan is a little bit worrying. But then, she doesn’t know him like I do.
Plus I think she might be a little bit jealous of our relationship. It’s eight months since she split with Frank and she hasn’t been on any dates since.
She’s also clearly spent far too much time analysing their relationship and trying to work out why it failed.
The result is her Frontal Lobe Theory.
‘Frontal lobes,’ she’ll say with a confident wink and a double-tap of her forehead. ‘For a lasting relationship, never trust the heart. It’s logic that counts.’
I can’t help thinking it’s all just a reaction to the tempestuous nature of her relationship with Frank, but I just humour her. I mean, it’s not as if I’m a great expert on relationships.
It was apparently lust at first sight for Barb and Frank. They were in and out of love more times than a cuckoo on a malfunctioning clock. So I suppose it’s understandable she might want to try a different approach next time.
I personally feel that for tediousness, her Frontal Lobe Theory is right up there with being stuck at home all day waiting for a fridge to be delivered.
Later, during the Corrie adverts, I bring up the subject of promotion and instantly, Barb says, ‘Fab. Go for it. I’ve always thought you were wasting your talents.’
‘Really?’
‘Er, ye-es!’ She gives me a look that says, Do you really need me to answer that?
Over the weekend, I keep thinking about it and, by Sunday night, I’ve come to a decision.
Tomorrow morning, at work, I’m going to talk to Marla and tell her I’m seriously interested in applying for the job of office manager.
I wake up on Monday morning, all jittery and excited at the thought of talking to my boss about the promotion.
It sounds weird, but I feel a little bit guilty having made such a big life decision without talking to Nathan about it. Not that he won’t be supportive because I know he will be. I’ve missed him while he’s been away. He did brilliantly in the Iron Man Challenge and I can’t wait to see him tonight.
And actually, now that there’s no pressure on me, I’ve realised I’m even missing my regular runs with him. So I’ve come to another decision this weekend. I’m going to sign up for the Great Brig Run. Nathan and I can train together. He’ll be really chuffed.
I arrive at work, feeling sick with nerves.
I’m just about to pick up the phone to ask Marla if I can have a word, when it rings. It’s actually Marla’s secretary asking if I can pop in and see her.
Happily, I close my spreadsheet and head upstairs. I’m not sure what she wants to talk to me about but it certainly seems fortuitous. Like it’s meant to be.
I sit on a chair outside her office, taking deep breaths, and Marla’s secretary, Angie, peers at me over her glasses when she thinks I’m not looking, then whips back to her computer screen when I turn in her direction.
The breath flutters in my throat. Angie probably knows Marla would like me to fill Sandra’s shoes. But obviously she can’t say anything.
My insides start whirling about like a clothes dryer on a windy day.
Oh my God.
It’s really happening.
I’ve been in a bad place for a long time, weighed down by such a heavy burden of guilt, thinking I didn’t deserve to be happy.
But just recently, I’ve started to feel that my life is changing and maybe – just maybe – it’s time to leave the past behind me.
Everything feels lighter and full of hope.
I’m in a loving, supportive relationship. And I’ve finally begun to believe I might actually deserve this promotion.
Plus, of course, the headache of Christmas is all sorted, thanks to lovely Nathan giving us the run of his flat.
A warm feeling spreads through me.
Everything’s going to be all right.
Marla calls me in and motions for me to sit down.
‘Great minds think alike,’ I say cheerfully.
She’s sifting through a file on her desk, her lips compressed as if she’s lost something.
She looks up in confusion. ‘Sorry?’
I smile. ‘Well, I was about to make an appointment to come and chat with you, actually. About Sandra’s job?’
‘Oh.’ She links her hands in front of her on the desk and stares down at them.
Her reaction is not what I was expecting. Maybe they’ve already found someone to fill Sandra’s post.
I’m surprised by how disappointed this makes me feel.
But something else is sure to come up …
Marla taps the table with her nail, still not looking at me, and my insides shift uneasily. Why has she called me in here?
At last, she takes a big breath and looks up.
‘Lola, I’ve got some bad news.’
I hold my breath, not liking the sad way she’s looking at me.
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