I can’t believe it. How are we here already?
It’s New Year’s Eve, and while being forty-something has its challenges, today is one of its pluses. When I was younger, I always felt so much pressure to go out and find the best party and have the most fun. It was FOMO times a hundred. But now those days are long gone. Now I’ve got JOMO and I’m just as happy staying in with a good movie and a bottle of wine. Thrilled, actually.
But no, this year I have an invitation to a party!
‘Well, it’s not really a party as such,’ I explain to Cricket, as we peruse the cheese counter of her local deli. ‘It’s just my friends Max and Michelle cooking a curry and having everyone over.’
‘Sounds like the perfect New Year’s Eve.’ She pauses to focus on a ripe brie. ‘Do you think I could try a sliver?’ she asks the sales assistant.
‘It’s a triple-cream from the Loire Valley.’ He passes her a piece.
Cricket looks to be in raptures. ‘Marvellous. One of those, please.’
‘So who’s this woman that’s invited you tonight?’
On the way over to the deli, Cricket has been telling me about a New Year’s Eve dinner party she’s been invited to, and how ‘everyone always takes something sweet, but I think a good ripe cheese says a lot about a person’.
‘She’s my upstairs neighbour. A widow like me.’
‘Wow, that’s great – well, you know what I mean,’ I add quickly, but she laughs.
‘It seems there are a lot of us about,’ she nods. ‘Oh, and can I have some of that delicious quince jelly?’ she says to the assistant.
‘Who else is going?’
‘I’m not sure. I think she has quite a lot of friends. She’s a bit younger than me.’ She hands over her credit card. ‘She did mention she was inviting a man who lost his wife last year. She thinks we’ll have a lot in common. He used to be an actor.’
A look passes between us.
‘I’m not interested. I’m happy being single.’
‘You never know.’
She pulls a face. ‘I don’t want to see some old man in his underpants.’
The assistant hands her a bag with her purchases and a receipt.
‘Wonderful, thank you.’
‘Monty was an old man in his underpants,’ I point out, as we leave the deli.
‘True,’ she nods, then smiles. ‘But he was my old man.’
I’ve invited Edward tonight. He just got back from skiing this afternoon and hadn’t got anything planned. ‘I was just going to stay in with a curry,’ he said, with no mention of the girl he’s been seeing.
‘Perfect, that’s exactly what we’re doing,’ I replied, and so he got in the shower.
We take Arthur along too. We can’t leave him at home because of the fireworks, plus it wouldn’t be the same celebrating without him. Michelle has promised to lock the cat in the bedroom.
‘It’ll be fun,’ she says cheerfully. ‘And it means we all finally get to meet this mysterious landlord of yours.’
‘No pressure then,’ says Edward, as we knock on their door. He’s made his special stuffed olives and looks unusually self-conscious.
‘None at all,’ I grin, as it’s opened by Max wearing a chef’s hat and an apron.
‘Hello! Come in, come in, don’t want you freezing to death.’ He wafts us inside. ‘Not like some, eh?’ he laughs, winking at Edward while I deeply regret telling him about the Battle of the Thermostat.
The rest of the gang have already arrived. Fiona and David have left their children with the nanny while Holly and Adam have found a babysitter. ‘It’s a date night,’ she informs me, as I give her a hug. ‘The counsellor says it’s important to remember what we liked about each other in the beginning.’
‘And is it working?’
She looks across at Adam. He’s with Freddy, who’s showing him something on his phone.
‘I think so.’ She watches him, her expression one of fondness. ‘I don’t think I want to kill him any more.’
‘Great news, Nell!’
We’re interrupted by Max, who charges over to top up our glasses before returning to the stove, where two vats of something delicious are bubbling. ‘About the flat – Michelle told me. Well done.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ I smile.
‘So how’s it going to feel losing your lodger?’ asks David, looking across at Edward, who’s been deep in conversation with Michelle about some new environmentally friendly nappies.
I’d told him earlier about my offer being accepted; he couldn’t have been more pleased for me.
‘Well, I’m not going to miss the heating bills,’ he grins at me now, and I smile.
‘Can all the men live together, please,’ suggests Fiona, appearing from the loo. ‘Honestly, he’s the same as David. Let them all shiver together.’
‘Just because you’re having hot flushes, darling, doesn’t mean we all have to,’ says David, and Fiona bats him affectionately.
‘Bet you’re going to miss her,’ she says loyally.
‘Yes,’ he nods. ‘Arthur will too.’
‘The flat’s only a bus ride away,’ I say quickly. ‘We can still go for walks and I can look after him while you’re at work.’
‘I think Adam and I need to get some tips from you,’ grins Holly, and Adam looks up.
‘Oh, I don’t know, we’re not doing so badly, are we?’
I watch as a smile passes between them.
‘Well, I think it’s brilliant,’ says Michelle. ‘You’d better do a big housewarming and invite us all.’
‘I don’t think you’ll all squash in.’
‘It’s amazing what you can do. Who would think six of us could fit in this tiny house?’
‘Small house, big life,’ cries Max, waving a dhal-covered wooden spoon. ‘Though if I get this new job I’m interviewing for, we could have a slightly less small house.’
‘How many interviews so far?’ asks David.
‘Six. Just one more to go.’
‘I got engaged after fewer dates,’ says Edward, then frowns. ‘Though actually, maybe that’s not a good comparison, considering I’m now divorced.’
‘So, are you seeing anyone?’ asks Fiona, spotting an opportunity to sweep in.
Uh-oh. I glance at her, but she’s steadfastly refusing to look at me. When Edward and I first walked in together she gave me A Look, and when she got me on my own demanded why I hadn’t mentioned how handsome he is.
‘No.’ He shakes his head.
I feel a jolt of surprise. No? Fiona glances across at me. She does her Big Eyes, the ones that she always thinks are subtle and no one else can notice, and of course everyone always notices.
‘I thought Nell mentioned you had a date . . . or something.’
I suddenly get very busy helping Max with the rice.
‘Oh, I had dinner with some friends,’ he smiles. ‘They tried to set me up . . .’
I can tell he’s trying to tail off, but Fiona is having none of it.
‘So, what happened?’
Bowls. We need bowls.
‘She was perfectly lovely but not for me . . . or me for her, I imagine.’
So that’s it. There is no other girl.
‘Oh, I don’t know, you seem quite a catch—’
‘Food’s ready,’ I interrupt loudly, ‘who wants poppadums?’
The Indian food is amazing. Max is quite the chef; we have chana masala and a delicious spicy dhal, and there’s a chicken tikka masala for the meat eaters. Plus all those delicious chutneys and lime pickles and raita that you scoop up with the leftover poppadum, even though you feel like you can’t possibly eat another thing.
Afterwards, we clear away the tables and Max puts on his New Year’s Eve playlist, and we dance around to Prince and wonder for the millionth time how someone as talented as him can be gone. We say this about David Bowie and Tom Petty and George Michael, and the children ask us who we are talking about and look at us as if we are silly old people. Because I suppose we are. Silly old people.
Then we cram ourselves into the living room, where we turn on the TV to watch Jools Holland’s Hootenanny and wait for the firework display over the Houses of Parliament, and now we’re counting down to the New Year: twenty, nineteen, eighteen –
But Adam’s started the countdown at the wrong time and it’s actually: three, two, one.
And now we’re all kissing and hugging and wishing each other Happy New Year, and the fireworks are exploding over Big Ben on the TV screen, and Adam has his arms wrapped around Holly, and Fiona is collapsing with David onto the sofa and spilling her drink, and Max is disappearing into the kitchen to get a cloth and warm up a bottle while Michelle is helping herself to another tequila.
And Edward is kissing me and I’m wondering why it took us so long.