Under The Mistletoe: Mistletoe Mansion / The Mince Pie Mix-Up / Baby It's Cold Outside. Kerry Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ patted my hand. ‘Not as much laughter as there used to be. Just silence. My Bill and me used to argue a lot. Now that’s the sign of a healthy marriage. Better out than in, me dearie, that’s what I always say. But don’t you worry. Men often take a while to work out what’s best for them. He’s in for a shock as to how much he’ll miss you.’

      ‘Cupcake?’ I gave her a proper smile and took off the Tupperware lid.

      Eyes shining behind pink-rimmed glasses, she lifted one out. ‘It’ll take a lot to improve on the walnut and fig ones you made last week. Those beauties have kept me as regular as a cuckoo clock.’

      ‘Thought they would.’ I winked and put back the lid. Jess would be outside any minute. I kissed the old lady goodbye and went down the stairs. When I got back to the bench, Adam was pacing up and down.

      ‘I’d better get going.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Where will you stay tonight?

      ‘Um… Jess’s.’ I sniffed and lifted my head into the air. ‘You needn’t worry about me. I can manage.’

      He held out his hand.

      I slipped my hand into his and squeezed it tight.

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘The key. I may as well have it back.’

      ‘But there’s no going back from that,’ I spluttered, the inside of my chest cold again. ‘Come on, Adam. This isn’t you. Work’s been demanding, lately. Perhaps you’re suffering from stress. It’s only a couple of weeks before Christmas, for heaven’s sake!’

      ‘Are you blind, babe?’ he said. ‘You haven’t seen this coming? Is this all really such a surprise?’

      My throat hurt again, as if I’d eaten too much buttercream icing and had a bad case of acid reflux.

      ‘Just ring your mum, Kimmy. Ask if you can kip on the floor – she might surprise you and say yes. You can’t stay at Jess’s forever and we both know you’ll never get a flat without proof of a regular income.’

      ‘You’ve got to be joking. Her latest man’s got three Alsatians. They have the sofa now.’ Mum made it quite clear, as soon as I got a job at Best Buns, that I was to move out, permanently; find out for myself that life was hard. As if I didn’t know that already.

      As Adam strode away, my stomach cramped but I held back more tears. Life had thrown crap at me before – I’d survived, and I’d survive now too. That was the best and worst thing about getting older – each tough experience taught you how to cope with the next. I mean, one minute I’d been shooting into Melissa Winsford’s ninth hole, the next I was well and truly lost in the rough…

      I sat down and almost dropped the box of cupcakes. Outside the White Horse, over the road, a young couple walked along in scarves and hats, hugging each other tightly. Adam never held my hand anymore and would rather Chelsea football club be relegated than us snog in public. I used to slip soppy notes in his lunch box until he complained that they stuck to his sandwiches. Perhaps this break-up had been waiting in the shadows for a while.

      It’s funny how the things that attract you to someone eventually lose their shine – like the way he threw an arm over me during his sleep; how he insisted on using teabags twice. And I knew my liking for bowls of potpourri drove him crazy. I’d become a fan of them since living above a chip shop. It was my first flat. Dirt cheap. It had to be, on my wages from Best Buns.

      From the left, a flash of red caught my eye – Jess’s bobbed hair. Despite her small frame, she stood out in her tribal print duffle coat and maroon jeans. Jess didn’t use peroxide, hated fake tan and wore old women’s comfy shoes – in theory, we were a total mismatch. She didn’t watch my fave shows like The Apprentice and Keeping Up With The Kardashians, nor did she use whitening toothpaste. Yet at school we’d both bonded through a deep hatred of sport. Except I was the lucky one, with a mum always happy to write me a letter to get out of netball or swimming; anything for a bit of peace, so that she could get back to her fags and daytime telly. It was only when I met Adam that I got into fitness DVDs. Not that he minded my squishy bits – he liked my “soft curves”. It was my idea to battle my muffin top. You see, I often imagined what Adam and I would look like together, posing in one of my celebrity magazines. If I could just tone up we wouldn’t look half bad. We’d be the next Brangelina – the papers would call us Kimadam, perhaps. I shook myself and waved in Jess’s direction.

      ‘Kimmy?’ Jess hurried towards me, eyes goggling at the Christmas tree. She carried a massive rucksack. ‘Why are you sitting outside here with all this stuff?’

      ‘And what about you, with that rucksack? I said, brightly.

      ‘You first.’ She slipped the khaki bag to the ground and sat down.

      ‘No, you,’ I said, graciously delaying my dramatic announcement that Adam had brutally (okay, slight exaggeration) chucked me out. Plus I need a few more minutes to stem any tears that still threatened. I patted her arm. ‘Looks like you and Ryan have fallen out big time. Brothers… Who needs them, eh?’

      She bit her thumbnail.

      ‘What’s happened?’ I said.

      ‘He called me a neat-freak; said it was worse than living with our mum.’ Her chin wobbled.

      ‘Ungrateful bastard!’ I said, for one nanosecond forgetting Adam. ‘You’ve transformed his house! Has he forgotten that his previous lodgers liked cheese and had tails?’

      She offered me a stick of gum and I shook my head. Jess had taken up the habit about a month ago.

      ‘Guess I should have knocked, before going into his bedroom this morning,’ she said.

      ‘Huh?’

      Her cheeks tinged pink and instantly clashed with her hair – and her red nose. Poor Jess always seemed to have a cold through the winter months, plus hayfever in the summer – not the best allergy for someone who worked with plants. ‘This morning, it being the weekend, I thought I’d do him a favour and tidy his room.’

      ‘That was a bit keen.’

      ‘I know, but I had this overpowering urge to clean.’

      ‘Was he still asleep?’

      ‘No. He, um, had company.’

      ‘Jess!’ My hand flew over my mouth. ‘Was she pretty?’

      ‘Boobs like grapefruits and a dead neat Brazilian.’

      I caught her eye and we both giggled.

      ‘So, I was wondering…’ Jess glanced across at my case. ‘Any, erm, chance I can crash at yours? You should have heard Ryan. Apparently it’s been a nightmare for him, living with his kid sister, ever since Mum and Dad retired to Spain. He says he owes it to our parents to see that I’m all right, but that I cramp his style and he’s sick of not having a private life.’

      ‘What a cheek! I bet he’s already struggling to work out the washing machine.’

      ‘I shouted at him,’ muttered Jess. ‘Told him he was a joke and no other woman would ever move into his hovel.’

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ