The Twelve Dates of Christmas (8 page)

Oh no, what was her body doing …

She curtsied. What a loser. Greg let out a light laugh.

‘Brilliant to meet you.’ He shook her hand warmly. ‘Nick’s told me all about you,’ Greg said, giving Nick a pointed look, who studied his beer bottle intently. ‘I hear you used to do ballet.’

Claudia nodded. This was it. She really should say something. ‘Yes, a
long
time ago …’
SELL YOURSELF
. ‘But it feels like yesterday, and sometimes I still do, and I work at Edurné’s, just around the corner, and I still feel so involved in the world of ballet and dance.’ Stop it, this wasn’t an interview. Or was it?

‘So you’re pretty familiar with the people, you get on with them?’

I do now
. ‘Yes, absolutely, loads of them shop at Edurné’s. They’re like my family,’ she exaggerated.

‘Do you think they’d tell you things, open up to you?’

Claudia touched her hand on her heart. They were
such
a close-knit bunch. ‘I think they would.’

‘You’re okay with late nights, early mornings?’

‘Love them both! Who wouldn’t want to dance the night away every night?’

‘And I’m sure you’ve learnt a lot about the behind-the-scenes work from Nick.’

‘Oh yes, I think it’s really important to know exactly what goes into a production, even if you’re spending most of your time on the stage.’

‘And you like writing, taking photos?’

‘Erm, yes, they’re occasional hobbies of mine. Do you?’ she asked politely.

Greg shook his head. ‘Not really, but you seem lovely. Nick, you’re bouncing around like a kangaroo. Do you want to ask her?’

‘Claud.’ Nick stepped in front of her. ‘I’ve been talking with Greg because there’s a lot coming up for the ballet in the next year. The tour, the local performances, the new show.’ Claudia’s heart raced like a runaway train. ‘And Greg mentioned that he needed an extra someone.’

GET ON WITH IT!
Claudia’s mind screamed at Nick, a blasé, interested smile fixed on her face. She could kill him and his big intros sometimes.
Make me a ballerina
, she willed with all her heart.

‘Greg wants someone to put together a book – a year behind the scenes at the Royal Ballet. Like a coffee-table book with some history, lots of photos, how a production is put together, that kind of thing. To be published by a real publisher.’

What?

Nick continued, ‘And I told him how much you’re still involved in the business and you still love ballet.’

WHAT?

‘So we wondered if you’d do this book? Tell the story from backstage?’

Claudia froze, her face mirroring the look of glee on Nick’s, masking the huge operation going on beneath the surface of composing her features so they didn’t fall into a look of utter disappointment.

They didn’t want her to be a ballerina.

Of course
they didn’t want her to be a ballerina.

They wanted her to be a groupie. To write about them, photograph them, from backstage. To be the outsider she knew she was, but she’d fooled herself into thinking she wasn’t.

‘Surprise!’ beamed Nick.

‘Thank you very much,’ she said, her voice stilted like a Stepford Wife’s.

‘What do you think?’ Nick asked, like a child giving a Christmas present. He was so excited about this, his big secret. He’d worked hard to open up this opportunity for her.

She
was the fool with the idiotic dreams and stupid, unrealistic fantasies.

A tidal wave of disappointment nearly lifted her off her feet. She took a big gulp of her snowball, using the glass to hide her wobbling chin.
Don’t be such a massive cry-baby
, she desperately willed herself.
They didn’t know what you’d been hoping for
.

None of this was Nick’s fault. None of it was anyone’s fault but her own.

‘Well, if you’re sure you don’t want me to play the Sugar Plum Fairy …’ She erupted into shrill laughter. She wanted them to think she was joking, but also say ‘My, we hadn’t thought of that, what a fantastic idea!’ But of course they didn’t; they just smiled and waited for her answer.

‘Claudia, what do you think?’ asked Nick again.

‘I think it sounds like a lovely opportunity … Greg, may I think about it?’

Greg smiled, nodded and patted her warmly on the shoulder before heading off into the crowd.

Nick turned to her like an excited puppy. ‘Do you want to do it?’

‘That’s a bit forward!’ Claudia forced another laugh, trying to turn an awkward moment into some
Carry On
humour.

Though she was ruined inside, she couldn’t spoil his night. So she did the sensible thing and grabbed another two cocktails from a passing tray. She handed one to Nick and glued on a big grin.

‘I’m going to have a really good think about it. It sounds really good; thanks for thinking of me, Nick.’ She clunked her glass against his.

‘But do you think you might? You could put together a whole book, just you, and you get to work with me and Penny.’

‘Yes, lovely, it’s a brilliant opportunity. Lovely, yes …’

‘Do you mind that I waited until now to ask you? I just really wanted you and Greg to meet first, and for you to spend a bit of time around the company, who are fun and they really like you – I know you’ve found it a bit weird before.’

‘Yep, you planned it all very well.’

‘Did you guess what it was? Did you have any idea?’

‘I had absolutely no idea. This is definitely a big surprise.’

‘A good surprise?’

She pressed her lips together and nodded, willing him to stop talking for two minutes.

Penny materialised, tumbling into the two of them. ‘HAS HE TOLD YOU THE SECRET?’ she bellowed. ‘IS HE REALLY A WOMAN?’

‘It’s better than that,’ Nick said. ‘Tell her, Claud.’

‘Nick and Greg have asked me to put together a book. About the Royal Ballet. From backstage.’ Did she sound excited? Grateful? Or like a petulant misery-guts?

‘A book? Pleeeeease put me on every page.’

‘She’s going to dedicate it to me, though,’ Nick laughed. ‘
To Nick – my hot date turned hot recruitment consultant.
’

Claudia chuckled along with them, swigged down the rest of the cocktail and swayed. How many had she had? Who cares? She had to get out of this chaotic head of hers.

Nick wrapped an arm around her and squashed her into him. ‘Right, now that’s out the way, let’s celebrate properly. MERRY CHRISTMAS!’ he boomed across the room.

‘MERRY CHRISTMAS!’ she boomed back, and a delighted Nick kissed her on the top of the head and led her back to the dance floor.

Claudia toppled off the low table, landing in a giggling heap in Nick’s arms. Her dance-off rival, Penny, raised her arms above her head and whooped.

The party was in full swing, and Claudia had eagerly suppressed the anticlimax of the big reveal. So things would stay as they were. She’d carry on working in the shop. Same old. She’d experienced twenty-four hours of a reignited dream, but now it was back to reality. And right now, her reality was Christmas party, cocktails and new people.

She loved these people. She would friend them all on Facebook.

Nick was tipsy himself, a dopey smile plastered on his face. ‘I like that you’re happy,’ he shouted in her ear.

‘What?’ Claudia leaned closer.

‘I LIKE THAT YOU’RE HAPPY.’

‘How could I not be happy? I’m a freeeeeeeee woman!’ Claudia shimmied to the festive music, loose in Nick’s arms.

She felt blissfully comfortable with Nick. Had she ever felt this comfortable with Seth? Had he ever encouraged her to dance with him? No. Seth Shmeth.

‘Seth Shmeth,’ she said to Nick.

‘What?’ he ducked his head down to her level. Laughing, Claudia dragged him by the hand to the balcony.

Claudia sighed a happy sigh and tucked herself into Nick’s arms against the cold breeze, her cheek resting on his chest. ‘You smell nice,’ she slurred.

Nick laughed softly. Claudia looked up. ‘Mistletoe!’ she cried, spying a plump bunch hanging over the doorway. Nick followed her gaze. A little voice interrupted her drunken haze.
Don’t say it
.

‘Let’s snog – it is Christmas,’ she burbled.

What did I
just
tell you?

Nick chuckled. ‘We can’t do that, I’d be taking advantage, you drunken old hag.’

Claudia moved closer, matching his breathing. It was deeper than hers. She watched his mouth.

They were so close she could smell the mulled wine on his lips. His breath fluttered against her eyelashes.

She wanted to do this. She knew it was a silly, friendship-rocking thing to do, but she wanted it. She wanted him. And she could feel it; he wanted her too. Something had shifted between them and there was no going back.

She dragged her gaze away from his lips, up his face and into his eyes. He was looking at her; scared, happy, confused.

Claudia tilted her chin and brought her lips to within an inch of his.

A thought flitted by:
I don’t know who you are to me any more
.

Claudia moved forward.
I want this
.

Nick moved back.

He dropped his arms. She rocked on her heels. No …

‘Claudia,’ Nick whispered.

She stepped back, widening the space between them. What had she done? What had he done?

‘Claudia,’ he said, stepping forward.

She moved further along the balcony. Nick looked injured. Well so he should.

‘You did it again?’ she accused, watching pain slice through his features. They were both transported back to that teenage night as they stood at opposite ends of the balcony.

‘You’re drunk, it shouldn’t be like this.’ Nick looked so sad.

Claudia couldn’t comfort him. She was humiliated. She really wasn’t sexy and exciting. She was an idiot. All night, she’d been an idiot. ‘I’m going to leave. I’m going home,’ she choked, pushing past him and heading for the door. He tried to hold her hand but she ripped it away as if it burned.

‘Please don’t go,’ he begged. She turned away from him. ‘I’ll take you home.’

She shook her head, hiding her shamed face. ‘Please, just leave me on my own.’

She could sense him hesitating behind her. His voice cracked. ‘I’ll get Penny to take you home.’

Claudia met his eye. ‘If you have any shred of care, don’t tell her what happened.’

He looked stung. What could they say to each other? Claudia turned from him again, her face in her hands.

A minute later she heard him walk through the door, away from her.

Claudia miserably crunched her way through the burnt bacon Penny had served up for breakfast.

Rejection, rejection, rejection. Kirstie and Phil should make a new show. It could star Claudia putting herself in a series of situations with men, each more outstandingly embarrassing than the last, and at the end she’d have to decide who she wanted to be dumped by first.

She felt like a prize idiot.

‘I feel like a prize idiot,’ she told Penny.

Penny snapped a piece of bacon in half. ‘Why? So you got a bit pissed at a Christmas party. Join the club.’

Penny and Claudia had been nursing their immense hangovers with salty food for half an hour now, but it was barely helping either of them.

Claudia carefully made her way over to the sink, filling two glasses with water and plopping Berocca tablets into each. She handed a fizzing glass of the neon-orange liquid to Penny and slumped back to her seat.

Penny turned her grey face away from the drink. ‘I’m so glad we left when we did; good call. I don’t think our bodies could have taken any more snowballs.’

Claudia grunted and rested her cheek on the breakfast bar. She hadn’t mentioned a word about Nick.

‘Nick looked like he was having a great time,’ Penny said, dipping her bacon in the drink to moisten it up.

Claudia grunted again.

‘He was pretty worried about you at the end, though – face like death when he came to find me. Well, face like ours right now, to be honest. I laughed my head off for a full three minutes when I first saw him, I was like, “
Maaaaan, you look so rough!
” Maybe Nick was just wasted too, and the hangover kicked in early.’

Hearing his name made Claudia’s insides shrink in shame. She was so humiliated. She had to change the subject.

Penny got in there first. ‘Oh!’ she cried, and immediately cringed at the noise of her own voice. ‘So what are you going to do about the job? Are you going to come and work with me? Please say yes, please say yes.’ She sounded as excited as she could muster when feeling this ill.

Dammit! Another confusing thing to block up Claudia’s head. She lifted her face from the counter-top.

‘I don’t know; it sounds a bit shit.’ She spat out the last word with more venom that she intended. It didn’t sound
shit
– a little part of her acknowledged that it sounded quite good – she just
felt
shit about the whole thing. Why the hell had she talked herself into thinking she’d be asked to be a ballerina again?

‘You don’t want to do it? But you’re so bored at the shop—’

‘It’s not like this would be any better. Both aren’t actually doing what I want to do.’

‘What
do
you want to do?’

The question hovered about in the kitchen. Claudia felt too embarrassed to say she wanted to dance again, even to Penny. When someone you love already has the job of your dreams it’s pretty mortifying to admit how much you envy them. Penny’s eyes were drooping anyway. Claudia knew she could move on without answering the question.

‘I think I’ll go home today,’ she declared.

‘You don’t have to leave, I like having you here.’

‘I like it, too. I couldn’t have got through this last week without you.’ She really couldn’t have, and the thought of going back to her flat filled her with dread. But she had to, so moaning wasn’t allowed.

‘Don’t say sweet things because I’ll throw up on your face,’ Penny mumbled with a smile.

‘I need to go back, have a sort out, be a grown-up. I can’t wear your underwear for ever.’