Page 3 of A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews
‘You should have mentioned it more forcefully,’ Posy said, shifting on the banquette to find a more comfortable position. ‘There’s so much to do. We haven’t put up any tinsel or even done a display of books that would make wonderful Christmas presents.’ She wrung her hands. ‘Mattie! Why haven’t you started selling mince pies? You’re normally much more organised than this.’
Mattie prided herself on her organisational skills but she refused to rise to the bait. She was not going to flap. ‘I already have my Christmas bakes planned, which will come into effect on December first and not a day before. Not everyone wants Christmas rammed down their throats as soon as the clocks go back.’
‘Pret A Manger have been selling their Christmas sandwiches for weeks, M&S too,’ Tom said, and he should know, because heneverbought his lunch from the tearooms. If he had, he’d have found it particularly delicious and filling and he wouldn’t have to hog the cheesy chips like he was currently doing.
Mattie firmed her lips. She wasn’t going to flap. Nope. Even though Tom always made her want to flap and hiss like an angry cat.
‘Well, Waterstones have hadtheirChristmas promotions in place forweeks,’ she countered. Tom lifted his glass of wine as if to say ‘Touché’ but it had a detrimental effect on Posy who moaned as if she was in pain and clutched her bump as if an alien were about to burst out of it.
‘We need to have a Christmas brainstorm. NOW,’ she proclaimed in a shrill voice.
‘I thought thiswasa Christmas brainstorm?’ Mattie said, because Posy loved a brainstorm almost as much as she loved Sebastian, tote bags with book quotes on them and romantic novels.
‘It’s more of a pre-Christmas-brainstorm brainstorm,’ Tom explained helpfully as he refused to relinquish his grip on the bowl of cheesy chips, moving it out of Mattie’s reach when she tried to make a grab for it. ‘Oi, get your own.’
‘December first is plenty of time to launch all our Christmas plans,’ Verity said firmly, prying the bowl from Tom’s hand and moving it back towards Mattie. ‘And I hate to play the vicar’s-daughter card, but technically you shouldn’t put up Christmas decorations until Christmas Eve, and alsotechnically, we shouldn’t really have a Christmas brainstorm without Nina. NinalovesChristmas.’
‘Oh, I miss Nina!’ Posy exclaimed and the first tear began its slow descent down her right cheek.
‘Everyone misses Nina,’ Mattie said softly, because when Posy was having a maudlin moment it was best not to make any loud noises. ‘But she’ll be back soon, right? She was only meant to have been gone six months, and she left in May, and it’s almost the end of November.’
Nina was a dearly beloved but absent member of the Happy Ever After family because she was currently road-tripping across the United States with her boyfriend, Noah, while working on the shop’s marketing remotely. She was the perfect, exuberant foil for quiet Verity, panicky Posy and Tom. Dour, sarcastic, up-himself Tom.
‘Well, I hope she comes back before I give birth,’ Posy lamented. ‘I would like to go on maternity leave before I actually start my contractions. Ugh! Contractions! Honestly, this pregnancy lark is one catastrophe after another. Have I mentioned my swollen ankles? Anyway, what are we going to do about Christmas? There’s so much to sort out and no time at all! We’re screwed. So very screwed.’
‘Not screwed. Christmas bakes are locked down and ready to go,’ Mattie said a little desperately. She wasn’t a big fan of Christmas and all these histrionics about the run-up to December twenty-fifth were giving her a leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘Anyway, how long does it take to pin up a bit of tinsel?’
‘We’re going to have to do a bit more than pin up tinsel,’ Posy said, the tears now a steady stream. Tom inched down the banquette to distance himself from a sobbing woman, a look of pure dread on his normally quite lofty-looking face.
‘Help!’ he mouthed at Mattie and Verity. Mattie shrugged and Verity sighed, then leaned forward.
‘I was going to wait … But, well, no time like the present, and there doesn’t seem any point in delaying the news, does there, not if we’re about to start opening late every night, and it’s not a big deal, really just a medium-sized deal.’ Verity’s ramble had stemmed Posy’s tears and she was now looking quite stricken. Even Tom seemed to realise that this warranted putting down the bowl of cheesy chips.
‘Oh my God, are you resigning?’ he asked, which was what Posy had suspected too, if the devastated expression on her face was anything to go by.
‘No! Don’t be silly. Why would I resign?’ Verity asked in bewilderment. ‘What a weird conclusion to come to. Although … I suppose in a way I am resigning.’
‘Please, Very, my blood pressure can’t take many shocks,’ Posy moaned.
‘Christ, spit it out, Very, or kill me now,’ Tom snapped and for once, Mattie found herself in agreement. Verity looked up to the heavens. ‘I’m resigning …’ She paused and there was a collective intake of breath which made Mattie suspect that Verity was enjoying this a little bit too much, ‘… from my tenancy of the flat above the shop. Though I do feel rather validated that you were all terrified I was leaving Happy Ever After. It’s nice to know I’m wanted.’
‘For one awful second I thought I’d have to do the VAT returns on my own and my whole life flashed before my eyes,’ Mattie said and Posy reached across the table, with some difficulty, to clink her glass in solidarity.
‘You and me both,’ she said, then turned her woeful face to Verity. ‘When are you moving out? The new year?’
‘Well, a bit sooner than that. If we start extended opening hours, which will mean opening on a Sunday, then I guess it will have to be … well, the day after tomorrow, if that’s OK,’ Verity said apologetically. ‘I could leave it until the new year, but Johnny has had one of those boiling-water taps installed so I can have instant tea, and he’s had a new window seat put in my favourite reading nook, it’s very comfy, and I spend all my time round his anyway … Oh! Yeah, I would be moving in with Johnny,’ she added, as though there had been any question.
Johnny was Verity’s beloved. A posh architect, who, much like Darcy in Verity’s favourite bookPride and Prejudice,with his ‘very fine grounds at Pemberley’, had a five-bedroom house in Canonbury and no one to share it with. Until now.
‘Oh! Very! Why didn’t you say something earlier?’ Posy exclaimed, grabbing Verity’s hand. ‘Let’s look at the ring! Oh … no ring.’
‘Because we’re not actually engaged. Just living together.’
‘Living in sin,’ Tom intoned, his hands in the prayer position, now that he’d eaten every single last cheesy chip without any thought for anyone else. ‘And you a vicar’s daughter, too.’
‘You know, Tom, that’s Nina’s line, you can’t really pull it off,’ Verity said. ‘And also, hello, welcome to the twenty-first century.’
Mattie was delighted for Verity, she really was. Even if living with a man was her idea of hell. She tried to smile happily and sincerely while she wondered what would be an acceptable period of time to pass before she could ask, plead, even beg Posy to be allowed to …
