Page 17 of A Merry Little Christmas
‘Oh. So you’re not seeing him at all today?’ asked Maddy, subtle as ever.
I swallowed. They were all looking at me with a sad expression, as if I couldn’t possibly be happy unless my boyfriend had devoted himself to making my day special. Which of course was absolutely ridiculous!
I forced a laugh. ‘It’s fine. Seriously. I mean, a birthday is just a day like any other day, really.’
Their doubtful faces were saying,Really?
So I rushed on, ‘Actually, we’re doing something at the weekend instead.’
‘Ooh, what?’ asked Ellie.
‘Erm... I’m not sure, actually. Caleb wants it to be a surprise.’
‘Nice.’ Jaz stuck up her thumb up in approval. ‘I like his style.’
‘How romantic,’ breathed Fen.
‘I really like Caleb,’ said Ellie. ‘You two are made for each other.’
‘Maybe he’s booked a gorgeous hotel for the night and you’ll dine by candlelight.’ Fen smiled and looked a little starry-eyed. ‘Rob did that once for my birthday and it was utterly swoony!’
My cheeks were aching now with smiling. I gave a little shrug. ‘Well, you never know. Anyway, I’m more interested in this fabulous tea party just now.’ I sat down at the head of the table and pulled my chair in decisively, my eyes sweeping over thearray of cakes that were laid out. ‘So . . . I need to know who made all these fabulous creations!’
My insides were rolling around nervously, but I was obviously better at lying than I thought because I’d apparently fooled everyone about my forthcoming ‘romantic weekend with Caleb’. Which wasn’t even a thing . . .
And at least I’d managed to change the subject!
Ellie was refilling our glasses and saying, ‘Okay, so as you all know we’re organising a Christmas market for charity. And Lottie here will be taking a stall and offering a selection of alternative Christmas cakes, which she’s brought along for you all to taste-test today.’
There were lots of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ which made Ellie chuckle. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. And there’s more, girls. Annalise has brought along some of the puddings she’s thinking of selling atherstall. So I think we’re in for quite a feast!’ She sat down and raised her glass to Lottie and Annalise and then to me, the birthday girl, and we all joined in the toast.
Lottie had made an amazing clementine and redcurrant almond cake, which got a hearty thumbs-up from everyone, as did her deliciously melt-in-the-mouth chocolate orange cake. She’d also made an incredible traybake in the shape of a Christmas tree, flavoured with white chocolate, cherries and mixed spice.
‘I’m definitely buying some of these,’ murmured Jaz, as she sampled one of Lottie’s mini mincemeat cakes. ‘They’re like mince pies, which I adore, but in cake form. Perfect combination.’
Annalise, our pudding queen, had also come up trumps.
She’d brought along a spiced ginger pudding with toffee sauce and a delicious Christmas crumble, which she served with double cream, filled with apples, cranberries and festive spices.
But the one that caused the most interest was her microwave Christmas-pudding-in-a-mug. ‘Just five minutes and you’ve got a Christmas pudding for one,’ she explained. ‘Perfect for if your other half doesn’t like the traditional pudding but you love it.’
I was still smiling gamely as I tried a spoonful along with everyone else. But that comment made my good cheer slip a little.
Also perfect for if you don’t actually have another half to spend Christmas with!
But now I was being paranoid.
OfcourseI’d be spending the festive season with Caleb. He’d put the Jingle Bell Forest in his diary, hadn’t he?
*****
The ballet was gorgeous, and I was so glad I’d said yes to Gran’s suggestion.
It was a performance of The Nutcracker, so wonderfully Christmassy, and knowing we were being collected at the door of the theatre by Dad later, I even managed to tempt Gran with a glass of sherry in the interval.
But as we stood and sipped our drinks in the cosy bar, surrounded by the throng of theatre-goers all dressed in their festive finery, she brought up a subject which so far I’d managed to steer her away from.
‘And how is the romance going?’ she asked, and I was aware of her shrewd, nut-brown eyes studying me.
