Free The Christmas Party by Carole Matthews Page A

about everything. It seems to have worked out OK.’
    Lance’s personal assistant, Veronica, had co-ordinated the whole thing and whichever company she’d drafted in to pull it together had done an amazing job. Even Tyler, who was a take-it-or-leave-it kind of man when it came to Christmas, couldn’t fail to be impressed.
    Every public room in this substantial stately home had been decorated with ornate Christmas trees – they were virtually the size of the ones in Trafalgar Square. God only knew what they’d cost. There was an enormous marquee on the back where dinner would be served. Someone had gone to town on that too. It was billowing with white fabric like a ship in full sail, and there were so many Christmas trees that it looked like a bloody winter wonderland or something. Afterwards there was entertainment. A casino was set up in one room and there was the obligatory band and a disco. Who knew what other delights awaited them before the evening ended.
    ‘It reminds me of our wedding,’ Tyler said. Kirsten had gone all out for that too.
    ‘I think our wedding was a little more tasteful than this,’ she said, nose wrinkled.
    What a day that had been. Everyone said it was the wedding of the year. Kirsten was happy, excited. Sadly, it was probably the last time he’d seen her like that.
    He looked at his wife. She was still very beautiful, no doubt. He liked having her on his arm. Heads turned when she walked into the room. Usually other men’s. He was proud of that. After all, he’d coveted her when she was on someone else’s arm. And who wouldn’t want a wife who looked like Kirsten? He’d already clocked the wives of his colleagues and they were mostly dumpy women squashed into dresses that were too tight and too young for them. Kirsten was class.
    It was just a shame that he never felt as if she was on his side now. Her sideways glances at him were always disapproving, her mouth tightly pursed. She didn’t seem to know how to have fun any more. He couldn’t remember when she’d last thrown back her head and laughed out loud. In the early days, when they were first together, they’d laughed a lot. Hadn’t they? When had that all started to go wrong? Kirsten had everything she ever wanted and more. Now she’d told him that they needed to work on their relationship, and that was something that men – him at the top of the list – avoided at all costs.
    ‘The rest of the coaches must have arrived.’ Tyler nodded towards the main door, where the Fossil Oil staff were arriving in droves. Transport had been laid on to take them from the offices out to the Wadestone estate. It was clear that they were, even at this early stage in the proceedings, all high on festive and other kinds of spirits.
    This anteroom where they were being served welcoming champagne and canapés was exquisite, full of towering marble pillars and ornate gilt mirrors.
    ‘Oh yes.’ Tyler took a canapé from a passing tray. ‘I can definitely see myself living somewhere like this.’ One day, when
he
was the one officially running Fossil Oil. ‘Look lively,’ he said to Kirsten. ‘Lance and Melissa are here.’
    ‘Deep joy,’ she muttered. ‘Is he sober?’
    Tyler sighed. ‘It’s early yet. I can only hope so.’
    He also wished, fervently, that the evening wouldn’t be too tricky. He was playing with fire there, that was for sure. How on earth had he got himself embroiled in an affair with Melissa Harvey? It had seemed like a good idea at the time; now he thought it might have been an uncustomary lack of judgement.
    A waiter breezed past him carrying a tray of champagne and he grabbed two glasses. He passed one to Kirsten.
    ‘I’m driving tonight,’ she reminded him.
    ‘Don’t. Let’s stay over,’ he cajoled. ‘Or get a cab.’
    ‘I don’t know. I like to be in my own bed.’
    ‘Then have just one.’ He pressed the glass into her hand. ‘A little one. By the time you’ve eaten a turkey dinner, there’ll