It’s the office Christmas party. Cheap booze is flowing, the lights are dimmed and tinny music blasts out of a rubbish stereo. Chris’s hair is gelled around reindeer antlers. Amy’s foot is caught in some photocopier cable. Martin is waving about an inflatable penis decorated with tinsel. And Janet is dancing alone, her husband dead, presumed murdered… by her.
When Janet offers to spend Christmas Day, the anniversary of my own partner’s death, with me, I find myself wondering what she wants. And why do I accept? A chilling novella. |