Still steaming from my shower, my hair turbaned into a towel, I examine the two dresses I brought with me. I’m not sure how formal the Threesome are with dinner, so I packed choices.

I hold them up to Ryan. “Which dress do you think I should wear? Christmas red with sparkly bits, or classic ‘little black dress’?”

“Not the red,” says Ryan. “That satin will show every mark.”

“Why should it get marked? We're only having dinner.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, tugging off his boots and smiling away from me. “I’m going for my shower.”

?

Mmmm…

Standing in front of the mirror, I switch on the hair-drier, brushing through my long locks, easing them to lie as I want, slightly covering my left cheek.

Ryan comes up close behind me. Taking me by the shoulders, he presses lips to the cheek, then in the mirror, his eyes meet mine. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious about it. It barely shows. And in any case, you are still a beautiful woman; the most beautiful I know.”

“I… I still prefer to cover it if I can,” I stutter. I angle my face to the mirror, tracing a fingertip down the jagged red scar down the side of my face.

After my time in hospital, my months invalided, all my other injuries healed, but this…

An extra layer of foundation…

And some blusher…

Then no-one will see it…

*****

“Dinner is served!” James’ voice reverberates from the kitchen.

We head for the dining room. Out in the hall, Charlotte and Mitch descend the stairs, Mitch carrying Cara.

Mitch looks amazing. In a dress of jade, her hair is set in an elaborately up-style and at her neck she wears the silver and emerald necklace. The matching combs glint green against her copper-red hair.

Charlotte looks equally good. Although she still has much of her ‘pregnant shape’, the gown she wears emphasises her height and her much-expanded bosom but drapes smoothly over her expanded stomach.

Michael and Larry enter together, wearing their sweaters in a kind of protective fraternity, Rudolph side by side with the penguin, each refusing to meet each other’s eyes. Charlotte and Mitch exchange giggles as their men sit beside them.

Richard and Beth join us, she leaning on his arm, waddling a bit as he guides her to sit next to Charlotte. But Beth too, for all her advanced pregnancy, looks spectacular, in a dress chosen to make the best of her inflated stomach and bosom.

Michael aims a finger at Richard. “If you think you’re getting away with the suit and shirt, you’re mistaken. If the rest of us have to dress like idiots, so do you.”

Mitch turns to him, her voice all innocence. “Idiots, Michael?”

He turns to her, bowing elaborately. “My apologies, Mitch. If the rest of us have to meet your high sartorial standards, so does Richard.” He turns back to Beth’s elegantly dressed husband. “Go and change.”

James enters carrying a platter of smoked salmon, bedded on a green salad and dressed with sliced lemons.

Richard demurs, smirking…. “The meal’s arrived. If I take the time to change, the food will be cold.”

Michael takes on a quite untypical heartless tone. “Smoked salmon doesn’t go cold. Neither does melon. We’ll wait.”

James, Rudolph staring out from his chest, sets down the platter. “I’ll be back in in a sec with the soup. It’s just under the grill now.”

Hope lights up Richard’s face but Michael interrupts, “Just hold the soup for five minutes will you, James. Richard wants to change into something more appropriate. We don’t want his starter to go cold.”

James measures the billionaire’s perfectly cut, hand-stitched suit with his eye and his face stone-walls. “Yes, quite right. We’ll wait for you, Richard.”

Next to me Ryan, in his silk shirt and tie, lets out a slow release of air.

“Just realising what a narrow escape you had?” I murmur.

He scratches his nose and sniffs. “Mmmph…”

a satisfied chuckle and vanishes from the dining room. Five

then takes his place,

his face almost as

bottle. “Red or white,

“Red for me, please.”

moves around the table,

“Larry, French onion soup, melon or smoked

shifts his

He’s always watching her…

for me,” he says, accepting the platter, radiating good humour as he serves himself a generous helping, squeezing lemon juice over the

beside him, looks down sidelong at his plate, her mouth twisting. “I don’t know how you

protest but Larry, eyes crinkling, drawls, “Mitch is sensitive to anything

slices at his melon. “You’ve visited Scandinavia, Larry?

or another. In fact…” His eye crosses the table to Richard’s sweater, then he twists

then props her chin on

Over there, they call him Jultomten. Or just

staring at her father as though

ever visited her as a

Or him?

visits the house on Christmas Eve to meet the children. So…” He stabs at another slice

sackful of gifts, knocks on the door and asks, ‘Are there any good children here? Of course, all the kids say, ‘Yes’. So, then he’ll sit them on his knee…” Larry shifts to a fake and slightly comic Swedish accent… “So, Inga… You have

hospitality, so the parents will give him a slice of cake

says Mitch, her face

does…” He grins and takes another swig of

to get

Or… actually, genuinely, relaxing?

you might call professional Father Christmases. The parents book them beforehand, tell them a bit about

cradles his glass in paired hands. “I’m beginning to see where this

Eve, by the end of the afternoon, he’s visited twenty houses, handed out twenty sets of gifts, eaten twenty slices

throwing out a finger at him…” … and drunk twenty shots

Eve night, it’s not that uncommon to visit the town centre in Sweden to find two dozen Father Christmases, complete with red outfit, beards and boots, completely pissed,

Mitch gets a

have you ever been to Sweden, Mitch?”

no. But Larry took me to Finland a lot

“Really? That sounds marvellous.”

Larry. “It was marvellous, yes.” She speaks slowly. “One of the best weeks I’ve ever had. That was at Christmas

her glass. “But you

It only had a couple of chairs and those were outside on the street. There must have been two feet of snow, but they did a hot salmon soup. The temperature was way below zero,

eyes slide sidelong to the tall, fair-haired man next to her, and her fingers curl

very still, watching her

great. But

If I am not much mistaken...” He hesitates, glances at Charlotte,

him, then down to her plate. Blinking, she sips at her

are soft and his mouth twitches as he looks between Charlotte and Mitch. “I worked it out. Not at the time obviously…” His voice turns dry… “… I was missing certain crucial information then. It was only much later

and Michael

I missing something?”

you

shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not for me to speak

she has when she’s not happy about something. “Whatever it is, it sounds important.” Her words shift to a hiss. “You can’t just leave it like that.” In her arms, Cara whimpers and fusses. Larry winces and looks

Wishing he’d not spoken?

have private

mind. It’s just a bit…

he turns, aiming his words at Charlotte. “Twenty-six years ago, I

grow round. “Why did you

heaven. “It was Christmas.

her and at first, meals-wise, she stayed with what was familiar; porridge and fruit for breakfast. That kind of thing. But after a few days of playing safe, she decided to get adventurous

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