The festive FAK E DATE

SOPHIE KINSELLA

don’t think of myself as a critical person. I really don’t. But I’ve been sitting in this meeting for half an hour now and I’ve had enough. Where’s the fun? Where’s the festive joy? Where’s the Christmas spirit?

It’s three days since a flier arrived through my door: Come along to the Neighbourhood Watch Christmas meeting! This is my first Christmas in Hurstwood Close, and I haven’t been to any Neighbourhood Watch meetings since I moved into my little ground-floor flat, so I didn’t really know what to expect, but I imagined we’d be talking carol singers and turkey deliveries and maybe organising a series of neighbourhood tree-trimming parties.

Instead, we’ve covered seasonal bicycle theft, burglary of Christmas presents and fraudulent Santas offering cheap iphone deals.

‘The problem with Christmas is that everyone lets down their guard,’ says the chairman, Leonard, who is 70-something and looks around the room with a forbidding frown.

Why does he have to be so gloomy? Christmas is about parties and mince pies

Iand romcoms on the Hallmark Channel, not burglary statistics.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ a resounding voice interrupts him, and in walks the new fair-haired guy from across the road. At once I give myself an inner high-five. This guy is quite new to Hurstwood Close. I’ve noticed him a few times in the street and I was secretly hoping he would come. ‘I’m Ted,’ he says. ‘But please don’t let me interrupt, I’ll learn all your names later.’ ‘Hello, Ted,’ says Leonard. ‘Please find a seat. To recap, Christmas is a time of thieving, burglary and fraud. Lock your windows, bolt your doors and be vigilant. Now, any other business?’ At once I shoot up my hand and he nods at me. ‘Yes?’

‘Christmas is also a time of joy, celebration and fun,’ I say brightly. ‘So, I had an idea. Shall we decorate all the lamp posts in the street with fairy lights?’

‘Nice idea,’ says Ted, smiling at me, and my heart skips a beat. He’s just so attractive, with his high cheekbones and his blue eyes, and his muscular–

‘That seems a very American idea,’ says Leonard disapprovingly. ‘Tacky.’

‘Not if it’s subtle,’ I say defensively. ‘It could be beautiful.’

‘How much would it cost?’ says Angus, who lives next door to me and is tall, dark and

brooding. Angus is exactly the same age as me to the day, as we discovered when I took delivery of one of his birthday presents. (A plant.) But apart from that, we have nothing in common. He’s the silent, deep-thinker type, whereas I like to chat. He works in robotics engineering, while I’m the least practical person in the world. Also, after a series of encounters with him on our respective doorsteps, I can safely say we disagree on a whole list of topics, including coffee, diet drinks, lawnmowers, cats and probably a hundred other things. ‘It doesn’t matter what it costs!’ I say. ‘It’s Christmas!’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,’ says Ted, looking into my eyes. ‘But I’m with you. Christmas is a time to lighten up a bit. Have some fun.’

‘I’m Louise,’ I say, smiling back. ‘Welcome to Hurstwood Close.’

‘Thanks! And apologies to all about the racket the other morning,’ he adds. ‘I leave for my job at 6am and my car alarm went off. I hope it won’t happen again.’

The meeting lasts another 20 minutes or so, during which time Leonard lectures us about telephone fraud and I exchange smiles with Ted while thinking, 6am. I can get up at 6am. Easily.

The next morning, I leave the house at six sharp while it’s still cold and dark, and lean against my garden gate, scrolling through my phone. When Ted appears out of his door across the street, I give what I hope is a convincing jump of surprise.

‘Oh, hi, Ted! I forgot you get up early!’ I exclaim, walking towards him. ‘How are you?’

‘Good, thanks. Are you normally leaving for work by now?’ he says curiously. ‘I haven’t seen you before.’

‘My regime depends on… stuff,’ I say vaguely. ‘Well, have a good day!’

‘You too, Louise.’ He smiles and my heart flips over. First, he remembered my name. Second, there’s definitely a spark between us. And third, this early start isn’t nearly as painful as I thought it would be.

The following few mornings, I get up at six, catch Ted leaving his house and have a little chat with him. He’s such a cheery neighbour, unlike Angus, who barely grunts a hello whenever we come across each other. But luckily, Angus is out of the picture. He’s a night owl – if I ever come home late I see lights on in his place – while Ted and I are definitely the early risers in the street now. It’s as if we’re in a special club.

It’s on the fifth morning that the miracle happens. As I open my front door, I see that my garden gate is all lit up with fairy lights.

‘Wow!’ I gasp, and hurry to examine them. The lights have been wound round the metalwork and taped in place and are twinkling magically through the morning darkness. A moment later, Ted comes out of his house and I greet him.

‘Look! Christmas decorations! Do you know anything about this?’

‘That would be telling.’ He winks, and

‘I’M SORRY, I DON’T KNOW YOUR NAME,’ SAYS TED, LOOKING INTO MY EYES

‘LOUISE, I HAVE SOMETHING A BIT STRANGE TO ASK YOU, ESPECIALLY AS WE’VE ONLY RECENTLY MET PROPERLY’

I feel a lift of joy. He obviously put up these lights to surprise me. He must feel the spark between us, too.

As though he can read my mind, Ted approaches me, his face serious.

‘Louise, I have something a bit strange to ask you,’ he says. ‘Especially as we’ve only recently met properly. But we get on so well, I think I can take a chance?’

I nod firmly. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Let me give you some context first,’ says Ted. ‘I work in insurance, in a big company. And one of my colleagues has been pursuing me romantically, to the extent that I’ve invented a fictitious “girlfriend”.’ He makes quotes with his fingers. ‘Now, it’s our office Christmas party on Saturday and I just know this woman will make a beeline for me, so I’ve started hinting that my girlfriend will be there. Only I don’t have one. So I wondered, would you play the part? I don’t have anyone else I can ask,’ he adds frankly. ‘I’m new in town. And if you’re appalled by the whole idea, please be honest.’

Appalled? How could I be appalled by a Christmas movie coming to life in my very own street? This is exactly what happened in A Christmas Fake Date in Manhattan and loads more Christmas romcoms. I’ve watched so many, I know how they go off by heart. The couple embark on ‘fake dating’ for some reason or other and they tell themselves it’s all acting – but guess what? They’re genuinely falling in love! As the movie finishes, they finally admit the truth to each other – then they kiss and snow starts to fall and it’s another happy ending.

And now it’s coming true! I’m in my own festive romcom with the gorgeous hunk from across the street! How did life turn out so well?

As I’m getting out my phone to swap numbers, Angus comes out of his front door. He eyes my phone, then looks at Ted and frowns. Always such a merry creature, Angus. (That was a joke.) ‘Morning,’ he says curtly, and I nod back.

‘Morning.’

‘You’re up early.’

‘Same to you,’ I retort. ‘You’re never normally up by this hour.

‘I have a train to catch,’ says Angus. ‘What’s your excuse?’ Again, he glances at Ted, his face glowering. He hasn’t guessed I’m stalking Ted, has he?

‘I’m looking at the fairy lights,’ I say defiantly, gesturing at my gate. ‘Aren’t they pretty?’

‘Waste of time, if you ask me,’ says Angus and I feel a prickle of antagonism.

‘Well, I love them!’ I beam at Ted, who laughs good naturedly.

‘I must get going,’ he says. ‘But Louise, thanks for agreeing to… what we were talking about. I’ll be in touch.’

‘Great!’ I say, fervently. ‘Can’t wait!’

I spend all of Saturday on a cloud of joy. Not only do I have a fake date with Ted tonight, but he’s carried on decorating the whole