Page 28 of A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say you were an Eeyore,’ Pippa said. ‘You’re more of a Piglet.’
‘I just have a very low tolerance for the things I have a low tolerance of.’
‘But you get to choose your mood,’ Pippa said. ‘I choose to be happy, therefore I am happy. I find it helps to write ten things I’m grateful for in my gratitude journal every day.’ She put down her compact mirror so she could fix Mattie with an even, non-judgemental look. ‘Are you writing down ten things each morning that you’re grateful for in the gratitude journal I got you last Christmas?’
‘Yeah, kind of.’ Mattie squirmed under Pippa’s non-judgemental look. It had been known to even defeat Sebastian. ‘I’ve maybe ended up writing recipes in it, but then again, I’m always grateful for a new recipe.’
‘And you’re no longer writing down lists of your enemies and how you’re going to exact revenge on them, so I think we can put a tick in the progress box,’ Pippa said, and she took Mattie’s hand so she could raise it in the air. ‘Yay you! So, these guys that are throwing the party, are any of them viable?’
The last man Pippa had dated had been a holistic, vegan personal trainer who had done wonders for her abdominal muscles but ‘left my emotional needs begging for a good workout.’
Mattie sighed. ‘Unless you like top bants, and we both know that you don’t, then I’d say that they’re distinctly non-viable.’
Pippa’s face fell a little. Mattie could see her struggling to choose happy. It took from Arnos Grove to Cockfosters before Pippa was able to produce a passable smile that showed off her even, white teeth. ‘Well, it’s always good to meet new people, and I did a Boxfit class this morning, so I can consume lots of empty calories, by which I mean that I’m going to get quite drunk.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Mattie said as they got off the train and followed the exit signs. ‘I didn’t do any form of exercise this morning but I still intend to get quite drunk.’
If she wanted to catch Tom in action then she had to be stealthy and she also had to be unrecognisable. Tom didn’t even know that she was coming to the party, as he’d left the flat a good hour before Mattie and hadn’t said that he’d see her later. In fact, he said, ‘I’ll be back late unless I’m suddenly taken ill, so do please remember our new house rule. Voluminous dressing gowns at all times.’
Now Mattie pulled a black woolly hat and scarf from her bag and by the time she’d put them on and made the necessary adjustments, only her eyes were visible.
‘Isn’t this meant to be a house party? Aren’t you going to be too hot?’ Pippa asked as they came out of the station. ‘All in black too. You know, we receive what we put out to the world. That’s why I’ve worn something sparkly.’ She unbuttoned her coat just enough to give Mattie a glimpse of something silvery and sequinned. ‘Well, that and because it’s a Christmas party.’
‘Ialwayswear black,’ Mattie said, consulting Google Maps on her phone.
‘You didn’talwaysused to wear black.’ Pippa gave Mattie a sideways look, which Mattie ignored. ‘Before Paris, you sometimes wore all different colours.’
‘I did a lot of things before Paris that I don’t do now,’ Mattie all but growled. ‘We have to take this road on the left.’
‘Remember, you choose your mood,’ Pippa chirped. ‘Anyway, how do you know these boys who are throwing this party?’
Mattie hadn’t quite got round to explaining that. She decided to go for the simplest and vaguest of explanations. ‘Oh, they’re friends of Tom’s.’
‘Tom! You haven’t said much about Tom, even though he’s the first man you’ve lived with since—’
Mattie shook her head so wildly that the bobble on her woolly hat felt as if it were about to launch into space. ‘I’m notlivingwith Tom. I’m sharing living space with him. It’s an entirely different vibe.’
‘Tom has many layers,’ Pippa said thoughtfully. ‘Pretends not to be a team player – he’s quite a challenge in a brainstorm – and yet I think secretly he’d lay down his life for Happy Ever After. You know what I always say, loyalty is royalty.’
‘Yes, he does have many layers,’ Mattie said. She was dying to tell someone that Tom had spent four years analysing romantic fiction. The enormity of her secret weighed heavy on her and Pippa was an impartial third party. If you told Pippa a secret, she’d take it to the grave with her. Mattie suspected that Pippa’s principles were so strong that she’d even withstand waterboarding. She’d make a brilliant spy. But there was the small and not at all impartial fact that she worked for Posy’s husband, so Mattie decided it was best not to share. ‘More layers than a millefeuille.’
‘Quite good looking too,’ Pippa said matter-of-factly, as if Tom’s alleged good looks were a given and not up for debate. ‘Is this the place?’
They were standing in front of a typical 1930s semi-detached house, like all the other 1930s semi-detached houses they’d passed on the walk from the station. But 23 Hazeldene Avenue wasn’t in such pristine condition as its neighbours. Its privet hedge needed urgent trimming, there were no net curtains in the windows and with all the lights on, it was possible to see that said windows could do with a good clean. And whereas their neighbours had really embraced the festive season with Christmas trees twinkling behind aforementioned net curtains and flashing fairy lights strewn all over the exterior of their houses (number 27 even had a light-up Santa Claus and sleigh on their roof), the Banter Boys had made do with a straggly strand of tinsel hanging over the open front door.
So this was where Tom used to live? Another piece of the puzzle that didn’t match any of the other pieces.
They squeezed through a clutch of people creating a bottleneck in the hall until they came to a kitchen, which was also full of people, and had last been kitted out sometime in the 1980s. ‘Wow,’ Pippa breathed. ‘I never knew there were so many different shades of beige.’
Mattie cast a professional eye over the cooker, as she automatically did every time she was invited into someone else’s home. ‘That hob hasn’t been cleaned since Queen Victoria was on the throne.’
‘Victoria? I haven’t seen her in ages,’ said a woman in workout gear who was standing with her friend, also in workout gear, by a sink which also hadn’t known the touch of a J-cloth and some Cif for decades, by the looks of it. ‘How is she?’
‘She’s doing great,’ Mattie said, because that was the easiest option. ‘So, are you enjoying the party?’
‘Not really. Be warned, there’s sprigs of mistletoe where you least expect them, with some loser primed to jump out and try to kiss you, so we’re going quite soon,’ the woman said. ‘To a singles’ spinning class in Kings Cross.’
‘I love spin classes,’ Pippa said with all the fervour of someone who got off on high-impact cardio. ‘I wondered why you were wearing workout gear. Are those Lululemon pants?’
