The Perfect Christmas (4 page)

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Authors: Kate Forster

BOOK: The Perfect Christmas
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They passed a small bookstore and Zoe stopped. ‘Can we pop in here for a minute; there’s a new children’s book I want to read that DreamWorks are adapting. I want to see if there are any roles for my clients.’

‘Sure,’ said Maggie. Wandering about the bookstore, Maggie wondered when the last time she had read a book was. She didn’t have time with Elliot’s health needs, her career and Will’s demanding nature.

She looked at the bestseller section and picked up a few books, reading the back of them and then putting them back on the shelf. She didn’t want to read crime or medieval fantasy and, just as she was about to give up on finding something that appealed to her, she saw a book called The Art of Love.

‘You gonna get that?’ Zoe asked, her own book in her hand.

‘Yes, I will,’ said Maggie as she took it to the counter. She needed a book about love and hope and everything wonderful, she decided. It might just make her see her marriage through new eyes and give her some ideas on how to save it when she returned home.

***

Back at the hotel, Zoe disappeared to her bedroom, no doubt to check her phone, thought Maggie. Since Zoe had kept her promise, she wouldn’t bring it up this time, she decided. So she kicked off her boots and curled up on the sofa, pulling a soft angora rug over her legs. She opened her book and started to read.

‘Maggie, do you want to go downstairs to the afternoon tea that Holly booked? We need to leave now.’ Zoe’s voice woke Maggie from her sleep, the book falling off her chest when she sat up.

‘I was asleep?’ she asked, trying to wake up.

‘Yep,’ laughed Zoe, ‘With your mouth open.’

‘I never nap during the day,’ said Maggie as she stretched. ‘Okay, give me a minute to wake up and get changed.’

Maggie went into her room, and emerged ten minutes later in a red cashmere knit, black pants, and loafers.

‘Let’s go,’ she said, as she picked up her bag.

Zoe shook her head at Maggie. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she said.

‘Do what?’ Maggie pressed the button to call the elevator.

‘Take ten minutes and come out looking like you’ve spent all day with a stylist and a team of hair and make-up artists,’ said Zoe.

Maggie laughed, ‘It’s years of practice and watching other people do my hair and make-up and copying them.’

The elevator opened, and Maggie saw Jack at the front desk, talking on the phone.

She gave a wave and he waved back.

‘What did I say to you?’ warned Zoe as they arrived at The Promenade restaurant.

A waitress swiftly had them settled in overstuffed armchairs and was offering them an assortment of teas.

Settling on a pot of Assam tea, Maggie sat back and looked at the cake stands of pastries and sandwiches.

‘I can’t eat any of this,’ she groaned.

‘You can you know,’ said Zoe. ‘One afternoon tea isn’t going to make any difference.’

Maggie sighed, ‘Except to my head.’

‘I thought you were going to enjoy all that London had to offer,’ said Zoe crossly.

‘I am, just not the high tea,’ Maggie said, as her eyes followed a plate of cakes that was being walked past them.

Zoe leaned forward, ‘Listen, I left my phone here today when we went out, the least you can do is eat a goddamned scone.’

Maggie frowned for a moment, and then tilted her head at Zoe.

‘How about we make a deal?’ she said, sitting forward.

‘Okay?’ said Zoe carefully.

‘I will stop obsessing about food if you let me try and get Holly and Jack together.’

She leaned back in her chair triumphantly.

‘You’re a pain in the arse,’ said Zoe, as the waitress carefully placed a silver teapot between them.

‘So we have a deal?’

Zoe nodded and Maggie looked up at the waitress. ‘Bring us all the calorie-laden items you have.’

The girl smiled. ‘Of course, Ms Hall.’

Soon their table was laden with scones and clotted cream, tiny sandwiches, French pastries, meringues and more.

‘I haven’t had a sandwich since what feels like 1997,’ said Maggie as she shoved another chicken sandwich into her mouth.

Zoe put a generous dollop of jam and then cream onto a scone. ‘Tell me, what are your plans to get Jack and Holly to finally realise their love for each other?’

Maggie poured them more tea. ‘I actually don’t have a plan, that’s why I need your help. You’re the one with the strategy skills.’

Zoe nearly choked on her scone. After she had recovered, she took a sip of tea.

‘I manage careers, not relationships,’ she said.

‘Come on, help me out here,’ said Maggie. ‘I mean, I’m good at seeing what they need but executing it isn’t my forte, hence the state of my own love life right now.’

Zoe took another mouthful of her scone and chewed thoughtfully.

‘We need to get them in a place that’s super-romantic, but with an element of surprise.’

Maggie was nodding. ‘Yes, okay, where?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Zoe, shaking her head.

‘I’ll ask Holly,’ said Maggie.

‘You can’t just ask her: Hey, where do you want to meet the man you wish you were swinging hands with?’

‘No, but I can ask for you,’ said Maggie.

‘What?’

‘I’m going to tell her you’re meeting someone and it needs to be Christmassy, beautiful and romantic.’

‘Why can’t it be you?’ Zoe said.

‘Because I’m married, you dimwit.’

Maggie ate another sandwich and then looked at Zoe’s half of a scone on her plate. ‘Do you want that?’

‘Help yourself,’ said Zoe and Maggie snatched it off the plate.

Upstairs, Maggie called Holly from the suite.

‘Holly, I need your help,’ said Maggie.

‘Of course, what can I do?’

‘Zoe is meeting an old flame tomorrow. I’d love them to do something romantic, unexpected and Christmassy, do you have any ideas?’

Holly paused. ‘I do, but it might not be for everyone. I mean, I’d like to do it, but maybe I’m too sentimental about Christmas.’

‘What’s your idea?’ asked Maggie gleefully.

As Holly launched into her perfect romantic Christmas Eve, Maggie gestured to Zoe, who was now standing in the doorway of her room.

‘That sounds amazing! Can you organize that at such late notice? Christmas Eve is tomorrow.’

When Holly assured her it wasn’t a problem, and Maggie had hung up the phone, she jumped up and down.

‘It’s so perfect, I can’t even believe it,’ she said.

‘What did she say?’ asked Zoe.

‘The midnight carols service at St Paul’s Cathedral.’

Maggie gave a fist pump and then put her hand up to accept a high-five from Zoe. But Zoe’s hands were by her side.

‘Is Holly even working?’ asked Zoe. ‘And how can Jack go to the cathedral if he’s supposed to be working?’

Maggie waved her hand. ‘Details, mere details,’ she said, but she sat on the bed with a slightly defeated thud.

Zoe sank down next to her and the two women sat together, wrapped in thought.

Then Zoe snapped her fingers. ‘I think I might just have a plan.’

***

Later that evening, when they were heading downstairs to be driven to Regent Street to see the Christmas lights, Maggie cornered Jack while he was speaking to a bellboy.

‘Excuse me, Mr Frost,’ she said and he turned to her.

‘Good evening, Ms Hall, how can I help you?’ he asked and she noticed how nice his smile was.

‘I wanted to say what a lovely time we’re having and how we’ll be sorry to see you leave,’ she said, ‘What time is your last shift?’

Jack smiled, ‘I finish at eleven tomorrow night,’ he said.

‘Home in time for Christmas then,’ she said brightly.

‘Oh no, my family live in Cornwall. I will hopefully head down there early on Christmas Day,’ he said.

‘Lovely,’ said Maggie genuinely. ‘Holly has done a wonderful job looking after us,’ she added. ‘She really is so special and kind.’

Jack’s face lit up. ‘I’m so glad you see that, I think she is one of the best people here. Actually, she left an envelope for you in reception.’

He briskly walked to the front desk, took something from behind it and handed it to her.

‘Thank you,’ she said and headed out to the car where Zoe was waiting.

‘Thank god for this coat,’ Maggie said as she pulled the soft cashmere around her and did up her seat belt. ‘It’s freezing out there.’

‘So I spoke to Holly, she’s working tomorrow night. It’s the start of her night shift,’ Zoe said.

‘And Jack finishes at eleven,’ added Maggie. ‘Oh it’s all so exciting.’

She opened the envelope and pulled out the tickets to the carols, with a note from Holly.

‘The best seats in the house, or cathedral, as it were,’ Maggie read aloud.

They laughed until the sound of a ringing phone interrupted them.

‘Is that your phone?’ Maggie yelled.

‘No,’ said Zoe, looking panicked.

‘It is so,’ said Maggie and she put out her hand. ‘Hand it over.’

‘What? No!’ said Zoe, clutching her handbag to her chest.

‘Hand it over now, woman,’ said Maggie and Zoe reluctantly opened her handbag.

Maggie put her gloved hand inside, pulled it out and turned it off. Then she placed it in her own handbag.

‘You get this back when we return to LA,’ she said.

‘Are you serious?’ asked Zoe.

‘Deadly,’ said Maggie.

Zoe rolled her eyes but Maggie ignored her as they were driven through the beautiful Christmas lights of London.

***

The next morning, Zoe and Maggie went to more stores, buying more gifts for themselves and each other. They lunched in Soho, and hit up Topshop and Zara. Maggie was barely recognisable in her woolen hat ‒ that or the shoppers were too frantic in their bid to find the perfect last-minute gift to notice.

Either way, it was a great day. Not once did Maggie start to feel depressed about Will, instead she bought presents: books on Alfred Hitchcock for Elliot and a set of tiny silver dessert spoons for Zoe.

‘Are you nearly done?’ asked Zoe as they wandered around Liberty.

‘One more thing,’ said Maggie as she picked up a beautiful pad of handmade paper and matching envelopes.

‘They have a calligraphy service here for Christmas cards, I want to get something done,’ said Maggie mysteriously.

Zoe followed her to the table, where a woman was writing with a set of pens that looked like something from times gone by.

‘Excuse me, I know you’re busy but could you possibly fit in a little letter, it’s a Christmas surprise for two people who need to be together but circumstance has divided them and their love.’

Maggie felt Zoe nudge her, but she ignored the jab in the ribs.

‘How can I say no to a request like that? And at Christmas?’ the woman asked with happy smile. She pushed a notepad and pen in front of Maggie, ‘Write down what you want to say and I will do it right away.’

Maggie picked up the pen and looked at Zoe. ‘Meet me at St Paul’s Cathedral at midnight,’ she said and pulled the tickets from her bag. ‘Pew three, left aisle, last two seats on the end. What else should I write?’

Zoe thought for a moment, ‘Say something about how it’s a matter of life and death. Otherwise he might not come.’

‘Now who’s being dramatic?’ scoffed Maggie. ‘No, let’s write, “It’s a matter of love and bravery and I have had one for a long time but the other is just for Christmas Eve.’”

‘Perfect,’ said Zoe, ‘Who knew you were such a wordsmith?’

Maggie shrugged, wrote it all down and pushed the pad back to the woman.

‘Give me fifteen minutes,’ said the woman.

Zoe and Maggie wandered about the store again.

‘Do you think it will work?’ Zoe asked.

‘I hope so,’ said Maggie, as she tried on a purple top hat. She took it off and put it on Zoe’s head.

‘Sometimes you just have to put it all out there, top hat and all,’ she said as she tapped the top of the hat.

***

Back at the hotel, Maggie and Zoe stole through the foyer, giggling as they saw Jack talking to a guest at the front desk.

‘God, we’re like kids,’ said Zoe, as they got into the elevator.

‘This is much more fun than when we were kids,’ said Maggie, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sadly, you’re right,’ Zoe sighed.

Inside the suite, Maggie pulled out the tickets and the beautifully written letter on the red handmade paper.

‘You’re more meticulous than me, so you fold them and put it all in the envelope.’

Zoe took the items and carefully folded them on the table, then slipped them into the envelope reading Att: Mr Jack Frost.

‘Okay, what now?’

‘Now we wait,’ said Maggie, walking to the lounge and picking up her book.

‘Is that it?’ Zoe asked. ‘I thought we’d have more clandestine work to do.’

‘That will come, now shut up and let me read my book.’

Zoe sighed and went into her bedroom. Maggie counted under her breath. ‘One, two, three.’

‘Where’s my laptop? Someone’s stolen my laptop,’ Zoe cried from the bedroom.

‘No one has stolen it,’ said Maggie, not looking up from her book.

‘Then where is it?’ Zoe was now standing in front of Maggie, her hands on her hips.

‘It’s somewhere safe, you’ll get it back on the plane,’ she answered.

‘You’re a pain in my butt,’ said Zoe as she stomped away.

‘You’ll thank me when you don’t die of a work-related stroke,’ Maggie called to Zoe’s retreating figure.

The sun set and Maggie settled in, ordering her and Zoe room service; treating herself to a steak, fries and wine, loving the freedom of being able to order what she normally only dreamed about.

When she knocked on Zoe’s door, she didn’t hear anything.

‘Stop sulking,’ she said and she opened the door to see Zoe fast asleep on the bed.

She looked so peaceful, Maggie thought, and she draped an angora rug from the armchair over her.

‘Oh, hey,’ Zoe murmured. ‘What time is it?’

‘Seven,’ said Maggie. ‘I’ve ordered dinner if you want it, should be up in half an hour.’

She closed the door behind her and smiled to herself.

It wasn’t that Maggie had hidden the laptop or confiscated the phone because she needed undivided attention. She worried about how much Zoe worked. The woman was always ‘on’, always thinking about her clients and their business, to the point of exhaustion. A daytime nap could only be a good thing, she thought.

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