Page 67 of Five Gold Rings

‘I guess the only problem is my costume doesn’t really speak lowly-carpenter-Jesus’- dad, you know?’ I say, looking down at my suit.

‘Well, my niece is Mary and she’s not exactly a virgin, you know? We can get you changed. All you got to do is stand still and look nice. You both come with me.’

Eve puts a hand to my arm and looks at me. ‘We got time for this?’ she asks.

I pretend to look at my watch. I guess the longer we draw this out, the longer we can be together. I better go and get my Joseph on then.

SIXTEEN

Eve

I’m starting to think that it’s some sort of conspiracy that none of these ring deliveries have been simple drop-offs. Because it’s Christmas Day, and I’m stood in a vestry of a church trying to work out how to get Joe into an old curtain panel with arm and head holes cut out. Joe undoes his shirt and a row of children dressed as stars look up at him as he gets stuck. This does not feel simple.

‘This isn’t unnerving,’ he tells me. ‘Shall I leave the shirt on or off?’ he asks, draping it around his shoulders.

I pause, my eyebrows raised. I need to stop doing this, the staring, the general lusting – but he’s not making it easy. I focus on his face. I kissed you and made an absolute fool of myself yet still you stick around like the wonderful person you are. You bring me to my flat, watch me break down then come with me into my ex’s family Christmas to be the ultimate wing man. I understand that we are just friends but he’s making it hard for me to un-notice him. Even in the car ride over, everything he did had an effect, his hands on the steering wheel, the colour of his eyes, the way he was very polite and considerate at junctions. I need to de-crush from this man immediately. Now he’s standing in front of me, top off, and I want to lick him. That is not right, at all. Not at least in a church.

‘Ummm, maybe on? This is basically a fabric sample, you’d be flashing abs like a stripper. We don’t want to excite the old aunties, I don’t think that’s how the nativity works.’

‘Yeah, but on and it does look like Joseph has come straight from the office and thrown on a kaftan. Off it is.’

He takes it off and I avert my eyes for a second. I may be doing this too obviously because he sniggers under his breath.

'You literally saw my jingle bells two days ago. I believe you also flashed me drunken boobs.’

‘It’s different when it’s in a church,’ I explain, aware that my cheeks are flushing. I gather the smock so he can pull it down properly, but carefully as I can see that someone’s handstitched this quite precariously. I smooth down the material with my hands and bite my lip.

‘Don’t laugh at me,’ Joe says.

‘I’m not laughing, I’m…’ I hesitate.

‘There’s a business idea though, eh? A nativity with strippers.’

‘The Three Wise Men with their “gifts”,’ I add.

‘A shepherd with his big staff…’

I guffaw and immediately stop myself as those star children are still looking at us both closely. ‘Shouldn’t Joseph have a beard?’ I ask.

‘I have a five o’clock shadow? Maybe Joe had a go on the Gillette a few days before. Or do you have a kohl pencil, I could draw one on?’ he jokes. I slip my fingers under the elastic on his headdress and tuck strands of his hair around to make him look less seventies tennis player and more New Testament.

‘It’s Monty Python meets Aladdin,’ I say, stepping back to take the costume in fully.

‘You are hilarious.’

‘It’s why you love me,’ I reply.

And then silence. You don’t love me. This isn’t where this is going. I understand that. He looks me in the eye for a second. Or maybe. ‘Look, when this is all finished, when we’ve done the last ring… maybe after Christmas…’ I say.

But before I have time to finish my sentence, someone comes bounding over in a dressing gown, her hair in rollers. ‘Hold up, you’re the ring girl, Eve,’ she says to me. I recognise her instantly from the shop.

‘Faith!’ I say, embracing her. ‘This is Joe.’

She looks at Joe curiously. ‘Mama J, did you seriously ask the jeweller to step in for the nativity?’ Her eyes widen as she takes in how his smock gapes at the arms to reveal a fair bit.

‘Why not? He was willing. He’s my new saviour now. We can pay them in pepperpot and rum,’ Emmanuel’s mum says frankly.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says to Eve. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Did Emmanuel invite you?’ she jokes.