Holly and the Faux Man (A Magical Festive Novella)

Chapter Nine

Once again, Holly couldn't look away as her own family prepared to discuss her behind her back. It was somehow both fascinating and terrifying at the same time - a little like watching a David Attenborough wildlife documentary. Except hopefully, they wouldn't tear her limb from limb like animals, literally or metaphorically.

But the next words out of her mother's mouth really surprised her.

"I think we should throw Holly a birthday party this year."

What?

"We used to offer to do that every year," her brother said. "And she always said no."

"Why did you always say no?" Noel whispered in her ear.

"I don't want them to make a fuss," Holly said slowly. To be honest, she'd never thought they were serious about offering to throw her a party. She'd assumed she was an afterthought, that they'd rather just not bother. And she'd somehow turned those assumptions into belief over the years, truly believing that no one really cared about her birthday.

"I think Christmas is a hard time of year for her," Holly's dad said then. "She was never quite as excited about it after Alexandra passed away."

"She used to love it." Holly's mother sounded wistful. "But she just kind of . . . Switched off after mum died. Remember that presentation she did in school?"

Holly's dad laughed ruefully. "How could I ever forget? We had so many parents furious with us! We were practically social pariahs until Holly finished primary school."

"Ah well, the kids had to find out eventually," her granda chuckled. "Maybe Holly actually did all those families a favour?"

"I don't think they saw it that way," her mum sighed. "Anyway, she's just seemed really down recently, and I think it would be nice to . . . Spoil her a bit, whether she likes it or not. I've always felt bad that her birthday is the day after Christmas."

"It's not like you could have crossed your legs and held her in until January," Holly's brother joked, and Holly groaned in tandem with the rest of her family on the TV screen.

"Bloody Alan," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Which, she realised, were full of tears once again.

Simon ran into the room at this point. "What's going on?" He asked excitedly. "Are we waiting for Santa?"

Karen, Alan's wife, shook her head with a smile. "We're talking about having a birthday party for your aunt Holly," she told him. "Do you want to help?"

"Yes, please!" Simon said happily. "I love Aunt Holly."

And Holly's somewhat frozen heart melted like snow in the sunshine.

The scene paused suddenly, and Holly glanced over at Noel, realising he'd stopped it. "It sounds like they planned to surprise you," he explained. "So we should probably stop watching, don't you think? Anyway, I think we've already got what we needed from this."

"You do?" Holly asked.

"You've thought your family didn't care about your birthday all this time; that they were more consumed with Christmas, right? But in actual fact, they were trying to get through to you for years."

"Yeah," she nodded, wiping her eyes again. "I've been a bit of an idiot, haven't I?"

"Well, yes," Noel confirmed. "But sometimes we can't see the wood for the trees. And this leads us to the next item on the agenda."

There was only Love left, Holly realised.

"I think we might need a top-up for this," she muttered, reaching to pick up both of their mugs. "Booze is probably the only way to make my love life entertaining."

"You might be surprised!" Noel's knowing voice drifted after her as she returned to the kitchen. She turned the heat up on the hob to warm the wine left in the pot, taking a deep breath.

She really didn't know what to expect from the Love section of the Sprigg-stick. Already, she'd been surprised and mortified and saddened by some of the clips she'd been subjected to. There had been memories she'd repressed and revelations she hadn't expected. She was scared of what Love could potentially reveal for her.

As she waited for the wine to do its thing, she cast her mind back over her somewhat sketchy romantic history. Her first kiss, age 14, with Eric Masters. He hadn't quite mastered his kissing technique, and she ended up with his saliva over most of the lower half of her face. "I really hope he improved eventually," she muttered under her breath.

Then there was her first boyfriend when she was 15. She and Richard Brown had lasted a grand total of ten days before he decided he preferred Melanie Brooks. Colin Lennon, the boy she lost her virginity to at the age of 17, hadn't been much better, dumping her shortly after they'd done the deed. The sex had been terrible, too, awkward and bumpy.

She really didn't want to have to re-live that particular 30 seconds on film. Especially with Noel beside her, witnessing it too.

And then there was Harry, her most recent ex. They'd been together for two and a half years; then he'd cheated on her with the barmaid from the pub he frequented way too often. She didn't especially want to revisit those memories either.

"I really don't think we should watch this part," she announced, as she returned to the living room with their drinks. "I don't feel like any good can come of it."

Noel shook his head. "Everything on this Sprigg-stick appears to be here for a reason," he told her. "I don't think you can leave this section out. You don't get to pick and choose."

Holly frowned. "My love life - or lack thereof - has been an absolute crock of shit forever, and I don't see that changing. You're the only action of any sorts I've had in ten months!" Her scowl deepened. "And you don't want me either, so the trend of guys humping and dumping me continues," she added, under her breath.

"Don't be like that, Holly," Noel said softly. "You know it's not about that. You need to look at the bigger picture. It's right there in front of you. Literally." And he pointed at the TV.

Holly tutted and turned to face the screen, squinting quizzically at small thumbnails of love related memories. Weird.

She'd expected to see the faces of Eric, Richard, Colin, and Harry. Instead, only one other face appeared, apart from her own.

And it belonged to Ben Nicholas.