Page 60 of A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews
Mattie had been assigned Verity who was delighted with the 1960s edition ofPride and Prejudice(her favourite book) with a lurid cover typical of that era. Mattie didn’t think there was a single cookbook that she didn’t already own but when she opened her present, wrapped in plain brown paper, she was amazed to see that Secret Santa had managed to find her one: a 1953 edition of the legendary cookery writer, Elizabeth Craig’sCourt Favourites: Recipes from the Royal Kitchens, in its original dust jacket.
‘This is the best Secret Santa present ever,’ Mattie said, holding the book up to blank faces all round. ‘Elizabeth Craig. She was the Mary Berry of her day. My mincemeat for my mince pies is actually a variation on the mincemeat in her 1932 book,Cooking with Elizabeth Craig.’ The blank faces now had glazed-over eyes.
Except … Cuthbert, who was far too polite to look bored unless …
‘Are you my Secret Santa?’ Mattie asked him but he shook his head and Nina held up her own Secret Santa book, a collection of vintage saucy postcards, which Cuthbert had already confessed to buying (with Cynthia’s blessing).
‘Guess again,’ Verity suggested.
It wasn’t Sophie, who’d had Posy, nor Sam because Mattie doubted he even knew who Delia Smith was, much less Elizabeth Craig. Posy had got Tom and, hilariously, depending on your point of view, had bought him a copy ofThe Complete Memoirs of Casanova. Nina had got Sam and had bought him a book of hacks for the latest computer game he was obsessed with.
‘I give up then,’ Mattie said.
‘It was me!’
‘It’s Tom!’
Mattie and Tom turned to each other, which was a bit of a squeeze on the three-seater banquette, especially when Sam was quite the seat hogger.
‘Thank you!’ Mattie beamed at Tom, who blinked, then smiled back. ‘How did you know?’
‘If you will put your books in communal areas of our shared living space, then you’ll have to face the consequences,’ he said, oh so very loftily. Ah! Mattie was finally and genuinely forgiven for coming across his bound thesis, then blurting out the contents to all and sundry.
‘I love it. I’ll have to make you dinner from one of the recipes,’ Mattie said, as she started to flick through it, but Tom put his hand over hers to stop her progress.
‘Please don’t,’ he said. ‘I had a quick look before I wrapped it and all the recipes involve disgusting things like aspic. Do you hate me that much?’
‘You know, I hardly hate you at all these days.’
His hand was still resting on hers, his touch warm rather than hot and sweaty this time. His fingers twitched so it felt a little like a caress, and when he took his hand away, it felt a lot like a loss.
‘Wow, you two obviously don’t hate each other any more,’ Nina said. ‘I’d say get a room, but you have several rooms all to yourselves, and who even knows what you get up to in them?’
‘I said the same thing,’ Sam dared to point out because he obviously had a deathwish.
‘Oh, do shut up, the pair of you,’ Tom drawled but it lacked his usual acidity and Mattie, with all eyes upon her, could feel herself heating up.
‘It’s Christmas,’ she muttered. ‘We decided it was traditional to have a break in our hostilities. Like the British and German soldiers playing football in no-man’s land on Christmas Day during the First World War.’
‘Although that’s a touching story, it’s actually a bit of an urban myth,’ Tom began but he was shouted down and, eager to change the subject, Posy asked everyone what they were doing for Christmas.
‘Sebastian, Sam and I will be spending a peaceful Christmas together, our last as a trio, before the baby arrives,’ she said with a contented little sigh.
‘She lies,’ Sam added. ‘She actually expects Sebastian and I to get the nursery ready. He’s at IKEA now. She won’t even get someone in to do the painting!’
‘It’s more personal if you and Sebastian do it,’ Posy said. ‘When the baby comes, it will sleep in a room which has been lovingly decorated by its father and uncle. It’s very good energy, I read it in one of my baby books.’
‘The baby’s going to be barely sentient formonths,’ Sam argued rashly. His callous utterance was enough to have Posy’s eyes filling up with unshed tears.
‘So unkind,’ she said in a voice thick and throaty. ‘Talking about my child like it’s an alien from one of your sci-fi shows.’
Anyone else would have apologised. But Sam was a sixteen-year-old boy so he doubled down.
‘It can’t even see properly for the first three months,’ he insisted and Posy was sobbing now and everyone else was looking around at each other helplessly as they racked their brains for something to say that would make Posy stop crying and let the good times roll once more.
Mattie nudged Tom. ‘Can you think of anything to cheer her up?’ she mouthed but Tom pressed his lips together and shook his head.
Even Nina, usually ready with an overshare about her sex life or someone else’s, was looking as panicked as the rest of them.
