Page 75 of It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas
‘Oh, I see. Yeah, I was just saying to Tom about how much this place has changed since I was last here.’
‘Ah, another Spaghetti Tree fan, eh?’
‘Ha – not sure that’s the word I’d choose.’
Tom helped me out of my coat and handed it to Mateo along with his. Tom was wearing slim-fitting indigo jeans and a dark red shirt buttoned right to the top, which complemented his colouring – and his long, narrow physique – perfectly.
Mateo continued talking as he stowed them away in a small cupboard. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, Tom, but one of our servers has called in sick tonight so we’re a bit rushed off our feet. It’s a good job you didn’t come alone as I’m not going to be able to talk as much as I’d like.’
‘No worries, Mally and I always seem to find plenty to chat about.’ Tom’s eyes glinted with sincerity as he glanced at me.
‘Ah, it must’ve been fate, eh?’ Mateo winked at me before leading us to the only empty table in the far corner of the room, adjacent to the largest and most majestic tin-can tree of them all.
‘Here you go, the best table in the house for you, Tom.’ He shook out our napkins and draped them across our laps once we’d taken our seats. ‘So, as you know tonight it’s our winter warmer set tapas menu. Take a look at the dishes on the blackboard and if there’s anything you don’t fancy just let us know, and we can replace it with something else. But other than that we’ll just bring the dishes out as and when they’re ready if that’s okay?’
‘Sounds amazing. Mally, all good?’
My stomach rumbled as I briefly glanced at the menu over Tom’s shoulder. Half the words were in Spanish, but the dishes I could understand – roast Cornish scallops, crab and lobster croquettes, quail’s eggs and piquillo peppers – sounded divine. I was ravenous, having only eaten that toast at Jo’s and a bowl of cereal over the course of the day.
‘A conveyor belt of incredible food? I reckon I can handle that, yeah!’
‘Perfecto. And a jug of the house crangria?’
Crangria?Had I heard that right? ‘Sorry, the house what?’
‘Oh my God, Mally, you’re in for a treat,’ Tom said. ‘One of the things that Tapas Den is renowned for is their house sangria, and the winter cranberry version is incredible. Christmas isn’t Christmas around here without crangria. Fancy trying it?’
‘Hard yes.’
Mateo bowed theatrically to acknowledge the order. ‘Perfect. I’ll get a jug right over to you and will let the kitchen know you’re all set for some appetisers. Enjoy!’
I relaxed back into my chair, smoothing out the ochre napkin to ensure it covered as much of my dress as possible – if I made it through the meal without an oil-based blob ending up on it, it’d be a Christmas miracle.
‘What a lovely bloke,’ I said. ‘How long have you worked with him?’
‘Tapas Den was the first account I was given responsibility for after my apprenticeship ended. So that would’ve been about – shit! – eighteen years ago already. We’ve been with him from the very start. You look great, by the way. The colour of your dress is an exact match for your eyes.’
Mally, breathe, I thought.Accept the compliment normally. Return the compliment normally.
‘Ah, cheers! I used B&Q’s colour-match system. You look very nice too, by the way.’
Oh well.
‘Ha, thanks. I shaved and everything!’ He ran a hand across his smooth, enticing chin.
‘I noticed!’ I tapped a finger on my own jawline to mirror the location of his nano-wound.
‘Yeah, classic, eh? I should’ve known better than to shave when I was nervous.’
I was about to express surprise about his nervousness when Mateo placed a terracotta dish full of the plumpest, Kermit-green olives I’d ever seen on the table and glugged a generous amount of the mysterious crangria into each of our glasses from a matching terracotta jug.
He patted Tom’s shoulder twice as he departed.
‘Cheers, Mally.’
‘Cheers, Tom.’
We tapped our glasses together and I took a sip of the festive cocktail, which was bursting with fresh cranberries and chunks of orange in among what tasted like red wine, Prosecco and some kind of spiced rum. It was delicious. But I made a mental note to keep an eye on my lips during the course of the night, since red wine had a tendency to stain my mouth so it resembled a deep portal into an unknown world.
