No-one Ever Has Sex on Christmas Day

by Tracy Bloom

Genres: Humor & Satire; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

‘ Laugh-out-loud funny, emotional and festive… This is THE Christmas read of the year without a doubt. Absolutely loved it from beginning to end.’ Mum Reinvented A dream family Christmas or a total nightmare? Katy and Ben are about to find out... Katy’s been stuck in the office away from her family so she wants it all: snow (fake or real), the Michael Bublé Christmas album, whatever it takes. There’s only one thing missing as far as her husband Ben is concerned: another baby to complete their family. But Katy isn’t so sure she's ready yet… Ben may be playing the role of Master Elf in the pre-school nativity but he is struggling to master his own family life. With romantically-challenged friends, an ex who refuses to go away and Katy's mum's 64-year-old toy boy thrown into the mix, Christmas looks like it could be going off the rails… Never mind family planning, can Katy and Ben even plan to make it to the end of Christmas Day? From the no. 1 bestselling author of No-one Ever Has Sex on a Tuesday, this book will make you cry with laughter, and then book your flights abroad for the festive season. Perfect for fans of Marian Keyes, Sophie Kinsella and Milly Johnson. What readers are saying about No-one Ever Has Sex on Christmas Day : 'I absolutely loved it, I laughed my head off at so many parts it is soooo hilarious! ' Jessica's Book Biz ' Laugh-out-loud moments throughout... worth the read just for the giggles.' Carrie's Book Reviews ‘ Hilarious, I constantly laughed out loud… Great fun and highly recommended.’ Goodreads reviewer 'If you are looking for a light-hearted Christmas read with some laughs and a lot of fun, then this is definitely a book well worth reading!!' Stardust Book Reviews 'A great book full of lots of hilarious moments and tons of good old Christmas cringy events.' Goodreads reviewer ‘An enjoyable and fun read. It brings to life the stresses of family and life at the festive time of the year. The perfect read in the run up to Christmas.’ By the Letter Book Reviews 'A fun, crazy holiday read.' Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews 'I loved it!' Goodreads reviewer 'There are so many laugh-out-loud moments right the way throughout the book that keep you hooked and make the book so easy to read.' Jessica's Book Biz ‘I've had a goofy grin on my face for the whole of this book. I challenge you to not find something to smile or laugh about in almost every single chapter, it is just that funny and feel-good… I just can't explain how much I loved this book - so instead I’ll just suggest you read it for yourself!" Rachel’s Random Reads, 5 stars ‘Had me laughing out loud and gave me proper tears of laughter, definitely a book I’m recommending – 5 stars from me!! ’ Donna’s Book Blog, 5 stars ‘This really was a hysterical read, I doubt anyone could read it and NOT find it funny!’ Novel Gossip ‘ Full of laugh every minute pure joy, a perfect read for getting into the spirit of festive family fun.’ Books from Dusk till Dawn, 5 stars ‘I raced through this story, not wanting it to end…a hilarious and fast-paced read and I found myself laughing my head off so often! ’ On My Bookshelf, 5 stars ‘ This book was soooooo funny!... I was literally laughing out loud so much while reading.’ Steph and Chris’ Book Reviews, 5 stars ‘Tracy Bloom writes with so much spirit and she knows how to make you laugh… No-one Ever Has Sex on Christmas Day is a fun, light-hearted read that's perfect for the holidays.’ Carlene Inspired ‘ Had me in stitches… I felt so Christmassy after reading this book… now being added to my list of favourite authors!’ Goodreads reviewer

Release date: October 24, 2017

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 298

Sample

‘Tell me there isn’t an enormous inflatable reindeer on the front lawn,’ said Katy as she walked into the kitchen and dumped her laptop carrier on the floor.

‘There isn’t a five-foot-high inflatable reindeer on the front lawn,’ replied Ben without looking up from rifling through a clutch of plastic bags on the table.

Katy turned and left the room to go and check out the glowing backside of the wobbling reindeer leering at her through the lounge window. She went back into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge, praying that Ben had pre-empted her need for a Friday night, long-week-at-work glass of wine. He had. It didn’t look like the sort they usually drank, but she didn’t care. She needed alcohol if she was to be enthusiastic about being greeted by an inflatable grinning Rudolph ogling her from the darkness.

‘Do you like it?’ Ben asked, looking up.

She gulped the wine and screwed her face up. It didn’t taste good at all.

‘I love it,’ she lied. ‘I just wasn’t expecting to come home to something so big!’

‘And what about Santa on the roof? Is that too much, do you think?’

‘What Santa?’

‘Santa on the roof. Didn’t you see it? It’s taken me all afternoon.’

Katy took another gulp of wine then went outside again to inspect what further festive carnage Ben had inflicted on their home.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Ben, coming up behind her. ‘What happened? You’re supposed to see Santa on the chimney next to a flashing Merry Christmas. Perhaps the fuse has gone.’ He headed back into the house, disappearing to a place Katy knew she would never understand nor want to understand.

‘Have they come back on yet?’ he shouted from the cupboard under the stairs twenty minutes later. Katy got up out of the kitchen chair, where she had managed to get past her dislike of the wine and drink the whole glass. Outside, the Santa remained in bleak darkness, and she returned with the news to a crestfallen Ben.

‘I’ll have to get someone round tomorrow to help me sort it out,’ he said. ‘It can’t have overloaded the system already. I’ve got a load more to go up yet.’

‘What do you mean more?’ said Katy, pouring herself another glass of disgusting wine.

‘Of course there’s more. It’s Christmas!’

‘But… but…’ She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to burst his festive bubble. She loved the fact that Ben had a childlike level of enthusiasm about decorating their new home for Christmas. It must be the eight-year age gap between the two of them that made him so much more excitable about these things, she thought. It was just a shame that their taste levels were somewhat different. Katy would have gone for a minimal look, probably consisting of white-only sparkling lights, whereas Ben’s creation looked set to rival a Las Vegas casino.

‘Can we afford all this?’ she asked. ‘I thought we were supposed to be on a budget now that we’ve moved house?’

‘Oh, don’t worry. It was all dead cheap. I got it from that discount warehouse place in town. I got all this stuff too – look, cost virtually nothing.’

Katy watched as Ben started to pull out reams of cheap shiny paraphernalia from the carrier bags on the table.

‘One hundred baubles for less than a Starbucks coffee,’ he proudly showed her.

Katy thought about the gorgeous Harvey Nichols’ pack of a dozen tree ornaments she’d bought a few years ago that had cost more than her party dress.

‘And a sign. Every house needs a sign.’ A cheeky elf now grinned back at her, holding a flag, which read ‘Santa, Please Stop Here’. ‘We’ve never had a sign before, have we? Not in the flat. You need a garden for a sign and now we have a garden.’

Katy nodded. It had taken a while. Nearly three years of looking and saving and sales falling through until Katy’s promotion and subsequent pay rise had allowed them to think bigger and better. They had finally secured their dream home of a delightful house in a leafy suburb of Leeds, with a garden where you could put a sign up for Santa. Katy wasn’t sure whether the sign was for Ben’s benefit or their three-year-old daughter, Millie.

‘Aaaaaaaaand,’ continued Ben, ‘the best Christmas bargain of all time…’ Katy closed her eyes – she didn’t dare look. ‘Not one, not two, not three, but four chocolate advent calendars all for the knock-down price of just one pound.’

‘A pound!’

‘Yeah, four for a pound! What a find.’

Katy thought she might vomit.

‘You don’t look impressed,’ said Ben, frowning.

‘Can you imagine how bad that chocolate is going to taste if they’re selling four for a pound?’

Ben shrugged. ‘It’s not really about the chocolate, is it? It’s about opening the door.’

Katy looked at Ben in shock. ‘I thought you understood kids… and women for that matter. It’s always about the chocolate! Or to be more precise, it’s always about the chocolate and the once-a-year opportunity to be allowed to eat it at 7 a.m.’

Ben looked down, frowning at the four calendars. Katy wondered if it was the right time to tell him she already had a Lindt calendar stashed away in the back of a cupboard, along with a Star Wars one for him and a My Little Pony one for Millie.

‘It might taste all right,’ he said dejectedly. ‘I mean, you’re drinking the wine I got there. That must taste great given how quick you’re downing it.’

‘What!’ gasped Katy, almost spitting out her latest mouthful. ‘This is from the discount warehouse? No wonder it tastes terrible.’

‘Why are you drinking it then? I tried it earlier and had to chuck it away. I have to say I’m impressed at how hardcore you are, necking that stuff. Tastes like paint stripper.’

‘You could have warned me.’

‘Funnier to watch you screwing your nose up! You sure you’re not an alcoholic?’

‘You’re enough to drive me to becoming one,’ she said, getting up and chucking the rest of it away.

‘You couldn’t live without me and you know that,’ he said, laughing to himself.

‘What have I done to deserve you?’ She walked over and put her arms around him. She knew she must have done something really good at some point. She dreaded to think what her life would be like if she hadn’t met Ben. She wouldn’t have Millie for a start – their funny, brilliant, gorgeous daughter. And she wouldn’t have her career. It had been Ben’s idea for Katy to go back to the job she loved in advertising while he stayed at home to look after Millie. Sure, it had made sense, as she earned a lot more than he could as a secondary school PE teacher but even so, it took a special kind of man to swap traditional roles like that. He was back at work now, working at Millie’s preschool as a teaching assistant. He said he enjoyed it, but it was still a compromise, Katy knew. It made everyone’s life easier that he had hours that fitted in with Millie, even if it wasn’t the most exciting job in the world. Still, her compromise was that she worked long hours in order to keep them in the lifestyle they were accustomed to. It worked both ways, she figured.

‘I’m so excited about our first Christmas in this house,’ said Ben, folding his arms round her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be so brilliant. I mean, we couldn’t have had a reindeer that size on the balcony at the flat, could we?’

She grinned. He wasn’t wrong. Let him have as many reindeers on the lawn as he wanted. Katy wanted Ben to enjoy their new house as much as she did. She might have been paying the mortgage, but he was bringing up their child. They both deserved it.

‘I love it here,’ said Ben, looking down at her. ‘I’m half-expecting someone to come and rip it all away from us, it’s so great.’

‘Of course they won’t, silly,’ said Katy. ‘We’ve earned this,’ she added, casting her eyes round the room.

‘And…’ continued Ben, barely listening, he was so full of excitement and emotion, ‘we even have a chimney. I have never spent Christmas in a house with a chimney – do you know that? And now we have a Santa on the chimney that lights up. Well, it will… one day.’

‘I’m glad that a chimney has made your Christmas,’ said Katy, allowing her head to rest on his chest. He smelt of oranges and cinnamon. ‘Did you buy Christmas potpourri?’ she asked.

‘Is that what it is?’ said Ben. ‘It was free with a box of crackers. I thought you must put it on the fire or something.’ Katy buried her head in his chest, not trusting herself to comment. ‘Speaking of which, come and take a look at this.’ He grabbed her hand and dragged her through the kitchen and the hall and into the lounge. She gasped as she walked in. ‘Me and the Millster did it,’ said Ben, squeezing her hand. ‘Well, I did the fire, of course. Can’t have a three-year-old handling matches, can we?’ He laughed, and Katy knew that he had most definitely allowed Millie to play with the matches.

There were no lights on in the room, just a warm yellow glow coming from the roaring fire in the grate and the sparkle of tiny white fairy lights strung across the ornate mantelpiece. It was magical. It was the reason why she had fallen in love with the house. It was everything their designer flat in the centre of the city wasn’t – it had character, it was quirky, and it had plaster ceiling roses for goodness’ sake. It was a home. More than that, it was a family home. The flat had suited her well in her single days, but Ben moving in and then the arrival of Millie had made it a squeeze. They’d been more than ready to relinquish the convenience of bars and restaurants within spitting distance for the quieter pace of the suburbs. It had taken a while to find this house, but this was why it had been worth the wait: the perfect Christmas tableau right before her eyes.

‘Millie put us all a stocking up,’ Ben pointed out.

Katy looked at each of the three bright red stockings pinned to the mantelpiece, despite the fact it wasn’t even December yet.

‘I told her it was too early,’ said Ben, ‘but she insisted. She so takes after you.’

‘Well-organised?’

‘Bloody stubborn! She even made me put a carrot out for Rudolph – look. Apparently he visits the really good kids early. If I take it away she’ll think he’s been and not left her anything, but if I leave it she’ll think she’s not one of the good kids. What do I do about that? More lies I’ll have to think up and remember. Christmas is packed full of lies, have you noticed? I think I’m going to have to keep a Christmas lies diary just to keep track of myself.’

‘What if she finds the diary?’

‘Christ, what was I thinking? You’re right.’

‘She can’t read, Ben.’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said, tilting his head to one side. ‘Panic over.’

‘I love it,’ Katy told him.

‘What?’

‘The fire, the lights, the stockings… it’s beautiful.’

‘We have another stocking,’ said Ben, picking a spare one up from off the back of the settee.

‘Was it four for a pound?’

‘No, ten pounds actually. Me and Millie came to a decision that stockings were a sound investment for years to come and so splashed out a little and well… maybe… you know… next year we might need four stockings to go above the fireplace?’

Katy turned sharply to look at him.

‘Because we said, didn’t we, that once we moved, we’d get on it.’ He looked serious for a moment. A rare occurrence. ‘Start trying for another one, now we’ve got the room?’

Katy said nothing, just gazed at the extra stocking. They’d been so busy, what with the move and work being crazy as usual, she hadn’t been thinking about extending their family. Ben hadn’t said anything for ages either so she half-thought he’d gone off the idea. Understandable. Being a stay-at-home parent is enough to put anyone off kids. But clearly it had been on his mind, even if he hadn’t talked about it. He’d been waiting for his moment; he’d bought the stocking.

‘And you are getting on a bit,’ he added. ‘We need to get a shift on or else you’ll be past it.’

‘Oh, thanks a bunch!’ she said, punching him in the arm. It was true; her clock was ticking faster by the minute. She’d turned forty that year so she was already leaving it late. Plenty of time for Ben of course, but maybe that’s what you got when you married a younger man – a constant reminder that your body will start to wear out way before his would.

‘And it would be nice to, you know, plan it this time. Have the full getting-pregnant experience,’ he said, shrugging.

He said it as casually as if he’d missed the trailers before watching a movie, but Katy knew exactly what he meant. He may have sounded flippant, but he was gently reminding her of what she’d denied him when she got pregnant with Millie. Her pregnancy had come unplanned and early in their relationship. A shock to both of them – and on top of that it had taken some time to dispel confusion over who might be the father, as Katy had had a misguided and much regretted one-night stand with a childhood sweetheart around the time of conception. Fortunately they had got past it, and there was no disputing the fact that Millie’s auburn locks were directly descended from Ben’s ginger mop. Katy’s first pregnancy had not been a time of joy and harmony, and she still felt guilty about what she’d put Ben through to this day. She looked down at the fourth stocking, absent-mindedly stroking it.

‘Why don’t we start practising now?’ said Ben gently. ‘Millie’s fast asleep, and I bought scented candles. They normally get you going.’

‘Four for a pound?’ asked Katy, smiling.

He nodded. ‘Norway Spruce flavoured.’

She smiled again. The cheap wine had made her feel light-headed, so she allowed herself to be led across the lounge towards the stairs.

She’d just put her left foot on the bottom step when the phone rang.

Ben gripped Katy’s hand hard. They both paused on the stairs, neither saying a word as the phone continued to ring insistently. Ben prayed it didn’t wake Millie. He was about to have sex with his wife, Millie demanding another read of The Tiger Who Came to Tea would crush any man’s libido. The ringing stopped, and he heaved a sigh of relief until the answerphone kicked in. He glanced at Katy as they both stood frozen on the stairs, fearing any movement would spark the collapse of their entire evening.

‘Hello, peeps. You are through to Ben, Katy and Millie. Say hello, Millie.’

‘Hello.’

‘We are currently partaking in a killer dolls’ tea party, so please leave us a message so we can forget to call you back. Bye.’

Katy suppressed a giggle.

‘Hi, love, are you there?’ came a woman’s voice immediately recognisable as Katy’s mum.

‘Of course we aren’t here,’ hissed Ben. ‘Or else we would answer the bloody phone.’

‘But we are here,’ hissed back Katy.

Oh yeah, thought Ben. But he wasn’t worried. Katy and her mum weren’t that close. Rita lived in Spain, and usually Katy avoided speaking to her if she could, so there was no chance of her disrupting their ongoing journey to the bedroom.

‘I really need to speak to you, Katy. Could you call me back as soon as you can? Unless your dad has already called you. I guess he might have done, but I need to give you my side of the story. He’ll have blamed it all on me – I know he will – but he needs to take some responsibility. As I keep telling him, you don’t walk out on over forty years of marriage for no…’

‘Hello, Mum. Mum, it’s me. What’s happened? What are you talking about?’ Katy had lunged for the phone and had already slid to the floor, clutching the receiver. Ben knew the night wasn’t going to go quite as he’d hoped.

He wandered back down the hall and into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. He picked himself a cold beer from the fridge then went into the lounge and slumped down on the sofa. He turned on the TV and found some football, resting his head on the spare Christmas stocking left on the sofa arm.

He had no idea how long he’d been asleep when Katy shook him awake, her eyes red and her cheeks flushed. The logs in the grate had burnt down to embers, and the lights across the mantelpiece had switched to an upbeat flashing mode, incongruous with the sombre face in front of him. He pulled himself up to allow Katy room to slump beside him.

‘So what’s happened?’ he asked, slapping his cheeks to try to wake himself up.

‘My mother’s a floozy is what’s happened.’

Ben had nowhere to go with this information. If he agreed, he was doomed. If he disagreed, he was doomed. To be honest, the news wasn’t too great a shock. Despite being in her seventies, Katy’s mum had always petrified him. She made no attempt to hide that she was envious of Katy managing to snag herself a toy boy. She was the only person who actually called him a toy boy, and she said it in such a way that it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. It was also true, as Katy remarked many times, that despite all Katy’s quite sizeable achievements in her career, her mother wasn’t the slightest bit interested or proud. She was, however, very impressed that her daughter had married a handsome, athletic younger man, even if Ben did his utmost to dispel the myth he was the dream husband whenever in her company.

‘Oh, how come?’ he managed to ask casually.

‘She’s left Dad.’

‘Right.’ Ben scrutinised Katy. Still his path through this conversation wasn’t obvious. Should he side with Katy’s dad, Dennis, who for years had found the only way of dealing with his full-on wife was to pretty much ignore her? Or with Katy’s mum, who should have cut her losses years ago and left him to live the life she wanted rather than moan about being trapped by her inattentive husband?

‘Big decision at their age.’ Ben nodded, deciding to stay neutral. ‘How are they both doing?’

‘Oh, Mother’s like a… like a… like a dog on heat.’

This thought made Ben feel nauseous. Who would have guessed that it wasn’t going to be a small child stopping him from sleeping with his wife that night but the thought of his mother-in-law panting?

‘She’s got a boyfriend!’ exclaimed Katy, looking up at him wide-eyed.

‘Really?’ He tried to look surprised despite the fact that he knew the only way Rita would ever have left Dennis was if she’d found someone prepared to take her on. The fact that there was someone prepared to fulfil such a task did surprise him. Her addiction to appalling karaoke renditions was surely enough to make any man run a mile. ‘Who is he?’ he asked, trying to stop the note of wonder creeping into his voice.

‘He’s Spanish, owns a bar. She met him at church.’

‘Church!’

‘Yeah. She joined the choir.’

‘Jesus! A choir? In a church?’

‘It’s all very confusing,’ said Katy, shaking her head.

‘You’re telling me. No choir needs Rita, especially one in a church. Her voice is enough to frighten the Holy Ghost away.’

‘She says she loves him. She says she never loved Dad like she loves Carlos. She says she wishes she’d met him before she met Dad, so she’d never have to have lived through her miserable marriage.’

Fortunately Ben realised that this was the moment to put his arm round her. And perhaps turn off the flashing fairy lights over the mantelpiece.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, when he sat back down again. ‘That can’t be good to hear.’

‘She never mentioned me,’ said Katy, her head leaning on his shoulder. ‘She never said that if she hadn’t met Dad then she wouldn’t have had me.’

Ben put his other arm around her. He wracked his brains for the right thing to say to a daughter whose mother had repeatedly failed to show any gratitude for her existence. Words failed him. He squeezed her hard.

‘He’s only sixty-four,’ sniffed Katy.

‘Who is?’

‘Carlos.’

‘So she finally got her toy boy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know she’s always been jealous of you snagging yourself this young thing,’ said Ben, smiling and indicating his body.

‘You think she’s left Dad to compete with me?’

Ben shrugged. ‘Who knows? She was always going on about me being your toy boy, wasn’t she? Do you think she’s going through a midlife crisis?’

‘She’s in her seventies, Ben!’

‘What do you call it in your seventies?’

‘Should know better is what you call it.’

‘How’s your dad doing?’

‘She says he’s devastated.’

‘Really?’ replied Ben. Somehow he suspected Dennis might have even helped her pack.

‘She says he keeps calling her, begging her to come back.’

He was most likely ringing her to ask how to use the washing machine when he ran out of clean clothes, Ben was tempted to say.

‘I tried to call him, but there was no answer.’

He’ll be down the bar with his expat mates and a big grin on his face, thought Ben. Katy was looking far into the distance, clearly in shock at the news. He squeezed her shoulders, again wracking his brains for words of wisdom to break her out of this sorrow. He wanted to tell her it was no big deal. He wanted to tell her that, in his opinion, this had been a long time coming and they would probably both be happier apart. He wanted to say they were both grown-ups and Katy had to let them get on with it, just as they had let her get on with her life. He wanted to say she hardly ever saw them anyway so the impact on their lives was going to be virtually zero. Two Christmas cards rather than one would probably the biggest change they’d see.

‘They’re coming for Christmas,’ Katy said, reaching for a tissue.

‘What! Who is?’

‘Mum and Carlos.’

‘What! You have to be kidd. . .