Page 53 of Five Gold Rings

Gabriel sighs and pouts to hear me say it out loud, and I puff my cheeks out hoping it may contain some of my emotion. ‘Oh mate, I’m sorry. I know how much you liked her.’

‘It is what it is. It was a stupid crush and I just need to move on.’

‘But you did the decent thing, I guess. Her loss. Completely,’ he says, offering me a pastry. I bite into it and for a moment all that sugar and cinnamon soothes my soul. ‘So you’ve been up for how long?’

‘Long enough to know Santa didn’t come.’

‘Bastard. I shall write a letter of complaint. We’re the best people I know. And long enough to have washed her dress?’ Gabriel tells me, pointing to her green dress hanging off our kitchen doorframe.

‘Yeah, she stripped out of that at the front door. It has seen things it shouldn’t have, that dress.’

So have I. Eve was drunker than she thought last night. After the kiss, she fell asleep standing up, so I had to stumble-carry her to my car. When she got through my front door, she then dropped her dress to the floor. In any other scene, a removal of garments in this fashion would be a precursor to high romance. But no, instead she stood there in her bra and knickers, told me she was boiling but then crawled up the stairs, like a cat. She may have even miaowed. And because I’m some mug who still pined after her but had some modicum of practicality and respectability about his person, I took her upstairs. I tried to protect her modesty, I made sure she was safe, tucked up in my bed and I washed her dress before the drink stains had a chance to ruin it completely. On a wool cycle as it says on the label because my mother and sisters trained me well.

‘Here, maybe this will cheer you up,’ he tells me, getting a gift from the sideboard in the living room and placing it in front of me. For a person who spends his life sewing, stitching and bandaging humans, his wrapping looks like he had a physical fight with the Sellotape. ‘Merry Christmas, matey.’

‘Gabe,’ I say, patting his back firmly. I slide my finger under the brown reindeer paper, grateful for a friend who still loves me, who’s trying to save this day for me. The gift reveals itself. It’s a hoodie. On the front, a cup of coffee and the words HOT CUP OF JOE. I hold it up, shaking my head and smiling.

‘Well, it made me laugh. There’s also a Nando’s card in there and I expect you to share…’

‘Well, if we’re doing this now…’ I say, heading to a kitchen cupboard and then back to the living room. ‘Here,’ I say, handing over my holly-patterned wrapped box.

Gabriel’s eyes light up because he knows how much I love him and that he loves a kitchen appliance. He slips his fingers under the wrapping paper until the gift reveals itself.

‘YOU GOT ME AN AIR FRYER!’ he squeaks, clapping his hands.

‘Yes.’ I wonder when Gabriel got to this point in his life. He pulls it out of the box, thumbing through the manual, bouncing with joy. It’s a pick-me-up at least to see him so happy.

‘So did you get all your rings delivered?’ he asks.

‘Only three. Two more to go then we can part ways.’

‘And then you can go and enjoy your Christmas. Get all your stuff in the car today and head off when you’re done with your rings. Be with family. Before you know it, it’ll be the New Year and you can have a fresh start.’

‘I was thinking that. Maybe I’ll quit Caspar & Sons and just look for something new.’

Gabriel heads into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. ‘Or, you know, just maybe you could come back to medicine?’ He pops his head around the door to check if I’ve heard that, hoping he hasn’t overstepped especially as it’s Christmas Day.

‘Maybe,’ I say reluctantly.

‘I don’t want to push it. I know you had a hard time with your dad, but it’s been a while now…’

I am silent and suspect Gabriel knows that maybe he’s drawn out this conversation a little too long. He does this every so often to test the waters, to the point where I wonder if my sisters have had a hand. But the fact is, I had to stop medical school. My dad got diagnosed with cancer and I had to put family first and help look after him. I saw medicine and the frailty of life in all its glory, close-up, and the reality was sobering, tiring. It made me put my life on hold for a small moment to take that in.

‘And hey, I just miss a work buddy who had my back and would buy me coffee and hug me in the lift,’ Gabriel tells me, trying to pick me up.

‘We did hug a lot in that lift. More than men should…’

‘No such thing. Your hugs would get me through the night shifts and make up for all the nurses who shouted at me. I love you, man.’

‘I love you, too. Your buns are exceptional.’

‘I know.’

I laugh and watch as he pushes another one in my direction.

‘Merry Christmas.’ A voice suddenly comes from the living room doorway, and Eve appears wearing her Christmas pyjamas we bought two nights ago. She looks up at me sheepishly and we share a moment to quietly relive what happened last night. ‘You’re not wearing your pyjamas.’

‘Oh, I prefer a robe for Christmas Day itself,’ I explain. The truth is, I wasn’t sure if we should match anymore. ‘Merry Christmas,’ I say, getting up from my chair and going to hug her. There is some awkwardness there but mostly because she looks so fragile, which is a kinder way of saying she looks part drowned cat and part possessed doll.