Page 56 of A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews
‘Well, I’m very grateful because these days I’m a slave to my blood pressure. Now, can I have two pig-in-blanket rolls and a mince pie for afters?’
‘One pound in the tip jar for hot drinks is such a sensible solution,’ Verity said, after she’d finished queuing for almost half an hour so she could purchase a turkey and cranberry Scotch egg. ‘But honestly, Mattie, I’ve been running the numbers and you have to be out of pocket when you provide the catering for our events. Ingredients-only doesn’t cover the cost of your time or equipment and then there’s all the other times that you bring us buns and cakes for free. We’re going to have to come up with some kind of formal, financial agreement.’
‘You’re not going to toss me out on my ear when the lease is up for renewal?’
Verity looked at her in some concern. ‘No! Why on earth would we do that?’
‘Because I betrayed Tom’s secrets,’ Mattie reminded her in a small voice.
‘You did, and he’s been annoyingly tight-lipped about it ever since,’ Verity said, as she accepted the plate that Sophie passed across the counter to her. ‘I’m not one to pry but now the cat’s out of the bag, the least Tom could do is be a bit forthcoming about the cat. Lothario-ing? Our Tom? It doesn’t seem possible. Could you be a bit more specific?’
‘I’m not saying a word.’ Mattie assumed a virtuous expression. ‘All I will say that it’s exactly two weeks until Christmas and I have a queue out of the door and round the block, and you’re holding up that queue.’
Christmas was rushing closer at an alarming rate.
Each morning Posy very helpfully provided everyone with a text message to let them know how close they were to the big 25, the number of exclamation marks growing exponentially.
Mattie was now dreaming of pig-in-blanket rolls in her sleep. Never-ending sheets of puff pastry coming at her from all angles, which she had to bat away with her rolling pin.
Now she knew what people meant what they talked about being a victim of their own success. The pig-in-blanket rolls queue started forming each morning long before the tearooms opened. Meena had drafted in her most reliable friend, Geoffrey, from catering college to join the assembly line that Mattie had going in the upstairs kitchen, though Verity was still having conniptions about the environmental health implications.
It left Mattie free to use the tearoom kitchens for the hundreds and hundreds of mince pies, red velvet Christmas puddings and festive flavoured shortbreads, not to mention all the other items that she had to prepare.
Christmas shopping really gave people an appetite. They’d come into the tearooms frazzled and frustrated and by the time they left, their energy and good humour was restored.
‘Merry Christmas!’ they’d say as they left and Mattie, if she wasn’t slaving away in the kitchen, found that she was saying, ‘Merry Christmas!’ in reply.
She’d also noticed that the tearooms were looking a little more festive every day. At first she suspected that Nina had been sneaking in under cover of darkness to add to the veritable solar system of pink and silver stars hanging from the ceiling. But she also knew Nina would never do anything that involved overtime and Mattie couldn’t say for definite that the stars had multiplied.
‘Do you notice anything different about this place?’ she asked Tom when he came in for his coffee and croque missus, which had completely replaced the panini in his affections.
Tom glanced around the tearooms. Although it was only thirteen minutes past ten, every table was full and the queue was already out of the door. Even with the door open, the windows were steamed up with condensation from all the people.
‘It’s very busy in here for this early,’ he remarked. ‘We’re not this busy in the bookshop, and Posyisruing the day she agreed to the Mistletoe Booth. People are queuing around the shop to use it and we have to check their proof of purchase. Then after they’ve mauled each other under the mistletoe, they loiter about waiting for their photo to print out. Of course, Nina won’t have a word said against it.’ He glanced around the tearooms again. ‘Why do you have tiny Christmas trees on each table?’
‘I don’t!’ Mattie peered past Tom to see that on every table was a Christmas tree no bigger than a bottle of ketchup, twinkling with LED lights. ‘I do! How did they get there?’
‘How could you have forsaken me?’ Tom asked, a hand to his heart as if he were mortally wounded. ‘You’re a closet Christmas groupie.’
‘I still loathe Christmas,’ Mattie said with enough volume that several people in the queue looked at her in horror. ‘I have no idea where those Christmas trees appeared from.’
‘Pound shop,’ Sophie said, as she squeezed past Mattie so she could start stacking the dishwasher under the counter. ‘Grandpa said I could take the money out of the petty cash.’
‘That I did,’ Cuthbert agreed cheerfully as Mattie turned to stare at him in open-mouthed dismay.
‘Cuthbert! You know my feelings about Christmas,’ she hissed quietly so she wouldn’t alienate any more of her paying customers.
‘She’s not angry with you, she’s just very disappointed,’ Tom chimed in, fixing Cuthbert with a stern look. ‘As am I.’
‘I can live with your disappointment,’ Cuthbert said, leaning back so he could press play on his tape deck and fill the tearooms with the sound of Noddy Holder screaming, ‘It’s CHHHRRRRIIIIISSSTTTMMMMAAAASSSSSSS!’
‘And you haven’t even noticedthis,’ Sophie said, gesturing at the wall behind where one of Nina’s infernalJoyeux Noelbanners was pinned above the menu chalkboard. ‘We didn’t think you’d mind, what with it being in French and all.’
‘I do mind!’ Mattie protested but Cuthbert and Sophie shared a grin – they weren’t remotely bothered. Not only had they gone against Mattie’s express wishes but having a sparkly banner behind the counter was sure to be a breeding ground for all sorts of bacteria and germs.
‘I have to go,’ Tom said, looking at his old-fashioned watch instead of checking the time on his phone like a normal person. He held out his fist towards Mattie. ‘Stay strong. Keep the anti-Christmas faith.’
Mattie obligingly bumped Tom’s fist. ‘I’ll bring your croque missus through when it’s done.’
