Make A Christmas Wish: A heartwarming, witty and magical festive treat

‘Hi,’ she said, shyly. ‘I made it then.’

‘So you did,’ said Adam, giving her a massive hug, which made her feel warm all over. ‘We don’t have to hang around too long if you don’t want to.’

Adam knew she had been feeling nervous about tonight. Maybe she’d get her wish and they could sneak out for a quiet dinner later.

‘What do you want to drink?’ he said. ‘There’s a free bar for the next hour or so.’

‘Double vodka and Coke, thanks,’ Emily said and Adam raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like her to drink spirits, let alone doubles, but she was feeling stupidly nervous and she needed some Dutch courage.

‘Party’s going well, I see,’ she said, nodding at a group of the sales team who were singing lustily and out of tune in a corner by the fire, while some of the younger staff looked like they might be up for some extracurricular activities in dark nooks and crannies. The mood was light and fun, and Emily tried to relax into it.

She sipped her drink and let the boys’ idle chatter flow over her. The boys were taking the mickey out of the MD, who was currently ogling his secretary, who though young enough to be his daughter was clearly loving the attention.

‘You jealous, Dave?’ Adam laughed. ‘I thought you were in there.’

Dave, according to Adam, was the office lothario.

‘I wish,’ said Dave. ‘She’s the one that got away.’

‘Glad someone’s immune to your charms,’ Adam laughed, ordering another round.

One drink led to another, and Emily’s mood started to shift. To her surprise she found she was having fun and wondering what she had worried about. Another couple of vodkas later, she was even flirting outrageously with Phil and Dave, who were great company. Even Marigold, Adam’s dragonlike PA – a brassy forty-something who acted about sixty – who had always been sniffy with Emily, had grudgingly wished her a merry Christmas.

Adam introduced Emily to the sales team, and before long, with a ‘Come on, Emily, be a sport,’ she found herself roped into a very raucous singalong of ‘Last Christmas’. It suddenly pulled her up short. Last Christmas things had been very different. Adam had been about to leave Livvy and then she’d died. Was it too soon for Emily to be taking her place? The thought made her feel anxious and sad. Deciding that the vodka wasn’t helping, next time she was at the bar Emily switched to red wine.

As she was returning from the bar to rejoin Adam and the boys, Emily felt a weird sensation, as though someone had punched her in the gut. Her glass of wine flew out of her hand, and spilled all over her, Phil and Dave. Bugger bugger bugger. Why on earth had she chosen to wear a cream dress?

‘What the —?’ Emily said, feeling very flustered. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that happened.’

Fortunately Phil and Dave laughed it off, but Emily went to the toilet to clean herself up feeling very unsettled. It had really felt as if someone had pushed her. Deliberately. Which was ridiculous.

‘You’re imagining things,’ she said sternly to herself, as she reapplied lipstick. ‘You’ve had too much to drink.’

Pulling herself together, she went back to the party, running the gauntlet past Marigold and her group of cronies. They all turned to look at Emily as she walked by, and this time she knew she wasn’t being paranoid.

She just caught Marigold mutter something like, ‘Look at her, bold as brass,’ and another woman say something about stepping in a dead woman’s shoes. Emily would normally have chosen to ignore them – what did she care what they thought of her? But she was still rattled about the spilled drink and she was tired of Marigold’s insinuations, and fed up of being judged by someone she barely knew.

So she turned round and stopped squarely in front of them, and said, ‘If you’ve got something to say, say it.’

They all looked embarrassed apart from Marigold, who said defiantly, ‘You didn’t take long to get your feet under the table. That poor woman has only been dead a year, and just look at you cosying up to Adam, when he’s vulnerable.’

‘That is none of your business,’ Emily said, furious with Marigold for prying where she had no right to, ‘and as for cosying up to Adam, we were good friends before Livvy died.’

‘Just good friends?’ Marigold cast a sly aside to her friends.

‘Oh go on, why don’t you come out and say it?’ Emily burst out, knowing exactly what Marigold was getting at. They had always been careful, but Adam had worried that Marigold suspected something. ‘You know you want to.’

‘Say what?’ Marigold looked innocent, which made Emily even more sure that she had known all along.

‘That you think Adam and I had an affair.’

There was a slightly stunned silence. Even Marigold looked awkward.

‘I didn’t say that,’ she protested.

‘But you bloody well thought it,’ Emily said. ‘And for your information, it’s true.’

There was a huge gasp, and her words came out louder than Emily intended. ‘For all you nasty-minded gossip mongers out there, yes, Adam and I had an affair last year. For your information he was about to leave Livvy. And then she died. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.’

At that moment there was a lull in the chatter at the bar, and Emily’s words carried across the cavernous silence which suddenly fell in the room.

She looked across to Adam, who was standing holding his pint, horrified. Dear God, what on earth had she done?

Chapter Three (#ulink_93de0906-8eb9-523b-bc8d-8b3f945e89ad)

Adam

The blood drains from my face as I hear Emily’s declaration. Phil and Dave look shocked. They knew little bits of my life, and that things weren’t always happy with Livvy, but they didn’t know about Emily. I hadn’t told anyone. Years of treading a fine line at home had left me unable to communicate with even good mates about what was really going on. Besides, how do you admit to anyone your marriage isn’t working any more? That you dread going home for fear of what you will find? That you are watching your wife drinking herself into an early grave and are powerless to stop it? That you’re sleeping in separate beds and barely talking? I had kept my problems to myself for so long, it was difficult to know where to begin. Besides, there was always the hope that things would get better, and we could go back to the way it was. And then I met Emily, and she blew me away. Suddenly I had found someone who made me happy again, someone I could laugh with, someone who wasn’t permanently angry with me. I didn’t know how to tell anyone all that, so I had told nobody. But now everyone I work with is staring at me and they all know I cheated on my wife. My now dead wife.

After a few stunned moments, someone behind the bar puts the jukebox on, and everyone goes back to chatting as if nothing has happened. I guess, as this is a Christmas party, there are already other more scandalous things happening in the corners of the room.

‘You kept that quiet,’ Phil says accusingly.

‘Sorry,’ I say, ‘it wasn’t an easy thing to confess. Things at home weren’t exactly brilliant.’

‘Blimey,’ says Phil. ‘I really hadn’t had you figured for the playing-away-from-home type, that’s more Dave’s style.’

Dave grinned ruefully; as the survivor of two failed marriages and innumerable affairs himself, he struggles to deal with commitment.

‘I’m not,’ I say, ‘really I’m not. It’s just – things were difficult, really difficult, and Emily just came along …’

‘You don’t have to explain to us,’ says Dave, patting me on the back. ‘Good for you, mate. Emily’s great. Don’t listen to the gossips. What do they know?’

‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘I appreciate it.’

I can see Emily is standing looking slightly dazed by what has happened. I have to get her out of here.

‘Time to go I think,’ I say firmly, grabbing her by the arm, and steering her towards the cloakroom. Emily is staggering all over the place. Shit, what’s got into her? She never normally drinks this much. She knows I hate it.

‘Adam, I’m so sorry,’ she says. She looks a little shocked, as if she’s not quite sure what happened.

Neither am I, but if I wanted to stay here any longer, I’ve changed my mind. It was a bad idea to come. A bad idea to bring Emily. For whatever reason, Livvy had a strong support team in my office, and still has. None of them know what she was really like. They just saw the happy family, admired how together we were despite the problems with Joe, and were shocked and stunned by what had happened to her. Everyone was great after Livvy died, but I know they all think Emily’s on the scene suspiciously soon. I wish they’d leave their suspicions and nastiness to themselves.

And now I’m cross with Emily for coming. For getting drunk. For ruining the evening. It’s unfair of me I know, but for the first time I feel a prickle of anger that Emily isn’t Livvy. Despite everything that went wrong between us, what happened to Livvy wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to be married to her any more, but neither did I want this. Since she died I’ve been in limbo: missing her, grieving for her, trying to be strong for Joe, treading water with Emily, feeling guilty that she makes me so happy, not sure I deserve this second chance. It’s not Emily’s fault, or anyone else’s. It just is.

The fresh air seems to sober Emily up a little. Immediately she’s remorseful in the way that drunks always are, and for a moment I’m so reminded of Livvy I feel sick. She says, ‘I’m sorry, Adam. I drank far too much. I hope I haven’t made a fool of you at work. I was just so nervous, and then I spilled my drink and I heard Marigold gossiping about me and …’ She looks at me with genuine regret, and I realize, of course, she’s not Livvy. This is the first time I’ve ever seen Emily get drunk. She likes to enjoy herself, certainly, and one of the great things about her is we can have a good time without alcohol being involved – when I think of Livvy, even in our early days our nights out always included drink. I probably shouldn’t have taken Emily to the party. It was too soon. That’s the problem: everything’s too damned soon.

I take her into my arms and hold her tight.