Mistletoe Mansion. Samantha Tonge

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 never shout.’

      ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘He even made some rude comment about my lentil cutlets. I mean, what decade is he in? No one makes vegetarian food like that anymore. I wouldn’t have minded if he’d criticised my bean burritos or tofu chow mein. He said at least now he could enjoy a guilt-free turkey dinner at Christmas.’ She nodded at my luggage. ‘Please tell me you’ve not moved out. Have you two had one of your disagreements?’

      ‘What do you mean?’ A lump returned to my throat.

      ‘Remember he gave you the silent treatment after your last trip to the salon?’

      I’d forgotten that. He thought twenty pounds was a lot to pay for fifteen minutes eyebrow threading.

      ‘And he didn’t come out to the pub last weekend for that festive quiz.’

      Nope. He was sulking because I’d turned down an interview for a permanent cleaning job.

      ‘Do you think my head’s stuck in the clouds?’ I asked, voice choked up. ‘Adam more or less said I’d treated his flat like a holiday camp.’ I could count on Jess to be straight with me. She’d always tell you if your bum did look big or your new haircut sucked. I pulled the lid off the Tupperware box. Sugar was great for low moods. A bloody good cake could sort out any problem.

      ‘You’re a… a….’ She sneezed and blew her nose – into a handkerchief, of course. Even tissues made from recycled paper, originally made from sustainable forests, were too environmentally unfriendly for her. ‘You’re a daydreamer, Kimmy; a romantic. No doubt about that. And who can blame you. Let’s face it, your mum hasn’t always–’

      ‘She’s done her best,’ I said and bit my lip.

      ‘I don’t know why you still defend her,’ Jess muttered and shook her head. She took a cake from the box. ‘Whereas Adam, I guess he just looks to his parents. Marriage, mortgage and kids; the daily grind paying off…’ She bit into the sponge and chewed for a moment – the only person I knew who could simultaneously munch on food and gum. ‘Face it, Kimmy: you two have less in common now – you’ve got different priorities and have grown apart.’

      ‘But you and me still get on, even though I hate gardening and you’d rather stare at a blank screen than follow Beyoncé on Twitter.’ I took a large bite of cake too.

      ‘But I’m not planning my future around you.’ She smiled. ‘No offence.’

      ‘You’d be better suited for him,’ I mumbled. Jess even had a savings account.

      She shook her head. ‘Have you forgotten the argument we had about recycling?’

      Jess sorted through all her rubbish, composted her peelings and washed out her tins. Adam said multi-coloured wheelie bins cost the government too much money and that they’d be better off investing it in nuclear energy.

      Jess popped the last mouthful of cupcake into her mouth. ‘Really yummy,’ she said. ‘I trust it was suitable for vegetarians?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Love that orange buttercream icing.’

      ‘It’s made with actual orange zest, instead of essence, which means…’ I smiled. ‘Ingredient geek alert. Ignore me.’

      ‘Shame you used paper cases. They contribute towards the decimation of rainforests.’ She opened her rucksack and tugged out a copy of the Luton News. ‘Is there anyone else we can stay with?’ Her mouth drooped at the corners. ‘It doesn’t get much worse than being homeless for Christmas. Plus I’ve got to get myself sorted for work tomorrow. The last thing I need, on top of this, is to lose my job. Maybe we can find a flat?’

      ‘This late in the day?’ I said. ‘Have we even got enough for a deposit?’

      ‘It won’t do any harm to look through the paper. In these arctic temperatures, I for one don’t want to spend tonight on the street.’ She pointed to a splat of congealed sick on the pavement. ‘That mess reminds me, I threw up just before I left Ryan’s. Last night I had a take-away veggie burger – it must have been contaminated with meat. So, I’m a bit peckish now.’

      I jerked my head towards the White Horse. ‘What we need is a shot of caffeine. I might even splash out on a packet of crisps, seeing as I no longer have to justify my every financial transaction to Mr Stingy Purse Strings.’

      Jess gazed at me. ‘Chin up, Kimmy,’ she said, softly. ‘Come on. I’ll treat you to a cheese toastie and chips.’

      I gave a wry smile and nodded. We stood up, ready to haul our luggage to the pedestrian crossing. But then I stopped dead. What was that, stuck to the glass front of the estate agent’s? Leaving Jess to drag over my case, I carried the tree and cake box over to the window. СКАЧАТЬ