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brENDA

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I know we’ve got until Friday before the Secret Santa presents are unwrapped but considering who I have to buy for, I am keen to make an early start. Assuming the game remains secretive, no one will know that I am shopping for the boss’s present, but that doesn’t mean I can relax and just buy anything. I need to do my best and put some thought and care into it, just in case someone finds out.

If I have to buy Mariah something, it has to be good.

But what can I buy her? She’s the woman who already has everything. The handsome husband, the flashy job title and presumably, given what she earns here, a big house full of all the things she’s ever wanted to buy. How am I supposed to get her something that she wants and on a budget of only ￡10? It seems like an impossible task. She probably spends that much on her morning latte from some fancy café in the city, so how can I buy her a gift that will make her smile?

I have no idea, which is why I’m going to spend my lunch hour today shopping.

I leave my desk and head for the elevator, only pausing to tell Kirsty that I have a few errands to run, and she doesn’t enquire any further, probably because she is in the middle of processing a pile of reports for a meeting this afternoon. I decided not to tell her that I was going out to get a head-start on the Secret Santa shopping because she would probably laugh and mock me for taking it so seriously. But she wouldn’t do that if she knew the name I had drawn out, though she can’t know because nobody can know.

The rules of the game must be preserved.

As I’m buying for the boss, that’s more important than ever.

I ride the elevator down to ground level then step out onto the magnificent marble floor of the reception area. When I do, I see the giant Christmas tree in all its glory only a few feet away from me, the red and white decorations looking splendid but the base of the tree currently bare.

There are no wrapped presents beneath it yet.

But there will be soon...

I smile at the receptionist before I step outside and instantly feel the cold December air on my face. Fortunately, it’s the only part of my body that is exposed to the cool conditions because the rest of me is wrapped up appropriately for the current climate. I have my coat, my scarf, my hat and my gloves – everything a person needs when venturing outside in England at this time of year.

As I make my way along the busy streets, I pass hundreds of other people out on their lunch break, as well as tourists in the city, seeing sights or shopping for souvenirs. I’m envious of the tourists – their afternoon will surely be more interesting than mine – but it’s not their fault they’re on vacation and I’m not. Besides, I’ll get some time off soon. The office closes for a week over Christmas, so I can relax then. But the thought of it soon sends a shiver down my spine that isn’t caused by the weather I’m currently enduring. Instead, it’s caused by the reminder that, for me, this Christmas is going to be a lonely one.

This is going to be my first Christmas without Paul, the man I loved and the man I was engaged to marry before he sadly passed away in a car accident last January. His death hit me hard, and it continues to churn away at my insides whenever I think about him. Despite the period after Christmas typically being one for renewal, I know that in the new year, the first thing I’ll have to endure is the anniversary of his death. But I try to remember the good times, like how he made me laugh, the holidays we shared together and, of course, last Christmas, which was the day he proposed to me during our short trip to New York.

I was stunned to discover that my present from Paul last year, on top of the whirlwind visit to NYC, was a sparkling engagement ring, but I couldn’t say yes quickly enough, and once that ring was on my finger, I was proud to wear it daily. I can’t see the ring now because it’s hidden beneath the glove on my left hand, but it is on there, and while I might remove it one day, I’m not ready for that day yet.

What would Paul have bought me for Christmas this year? What would I have bought for him? It doesn’t matter. The reality is that we’ll never exchange gifts again. But I do have someone to buy for this year.

I need to find my boss a present.

So what is it going to be?

I’m considering everything, from a box of chocolates to a book. Maybe I can find a discounted paperback in a bookstore sale somewhere. But are those good ideas? Does Mariah eat chocolate? Her slim figure suggests not. As for books, does a woman as busy as her have time to read? Or will whatever novel I buy her be tossed into a drawer in her desk as she tuts and comments to her husband about her disappointing present?

I need to give this more thought, and as I walk down the street, I’m hoping I might see something that sparks my imagination. But while I do see something, it doesn’t help me decide what present to buy for Mariah. It does involve her, though. That’s because I see her husband, also my boss, walking parallel to me on the other side of the road.

I’d recognise that fine head of hair, the confident gait and the smart winter coat anywhere. Michael really is a good-looking man, and I feel a pang of envy that Mariah will be waking up next to him on Christmas morning. I’d prefer my Paul, but Michael certainly would do if I was being picky. But as I watch him, I see that he is not alone. He’s walking alongside Nat, short for Natalie, our head of Finance, and it makes sense because I know the pair were attending a meeting together this morning with a client. But the meeting must be over now, so why are they walking in the opposite direction to the office?

The street is incredibly busy, but I keep pace with them, my eyes on their bodies despite pedestrians and cars passing between us, and that’s how I see the pair eventually stop outside a grand hotel, the kind with a butler on the door who can offer assistance with any luggage. But Michael and Nat don’t have any luggage; they only have each other, so they are able to walk up the steps to the hotel and approach the doors with ease. Such ease, in fact, that just before the butler opens the door for them to allow them inside, I see Michael place his hand on the small of Nat’s back.

Perhaps he is just being gentlemanly and guiding her inside, prompting her to go first. It could be an innocent touch, right? But then his hand lowers, and all innocence is lost.

Is Nat comfortable with her boss putting his hand where he has just put it, on the back of her skirt, a place that it surely doesn’t belong? But as she turns her head and smiles, I would say she isn’t just comfortable but was almost expecting it.

I watch as the pair disappear inside the hotel, the sight of the two of them so intimately close still burnt into my memory.

Something is clearly going on between them, and the question is - is it just inappropriate flirting and affection? Or is it a full-blown affair?

I don’t know.

I’d bet Mariah doesn’t know either.

Suddenly, I realise what her gift needs to be this Christmas, although it’s hardly a gift in the traditional sense. It will be given with her best interests at heart, though.

I need to tell her what her husband is up to behind her back.

If I make it a part of the game, I can do it anonymously, and while it’s not quite what I had in mind for a secret gift, this affair does qualify as a secret.

Or at least it does until I expose it.