Page 25 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
At that moment Matt leaned too far and the ladder tipped up onto one foot. Kate grabbed it and steadied it.
“And help,” she added.
Together and without incident they managed to run the icicle lights underneath the roof of the café and attach a jolly Santa and sleigh to the roof itself. By the time they’d finished, Kate’s fingers were numb with cold.
“Just stand out here for one more minute while I go in and turn them on,” said Matt. “And then I’ll make us a hot chocolate.”
Kate waited, blowing into her hands while Matt disappeared into the blacked-out café. A moment later the outside was illuminated by hundreds of glittering icicle threads, swaying gracefully like jellyfish tentacles. Above them, the jolly Santa’s cheeks glowed poppy red; Kate expected him to take off from the roof at any moment with a whoosh and aHo Ho Ho!
Matt came out to join Kate, and they both stood admiring their handiwork in the silent village square.
“Come on,” said Matt, after a minute. “I’ve got the milk on the stove.”
Kate followed Matt through the unlit café and into the kitchen. There was something hopeful, expectant almost, about the café at night, empty and dark as it was, as though it were only sleeping, waiting for the morning to bring it to life again.
The only lights on in the kitchen were the ones above the hob, where Matt stood, heaping cocoa and sugar into the saucepan of milk, stirring it furiously with a small balloon whisk.
Matt turned to the kitchen island and poured the cocoa into the waiting mugs. He handed one of them to Kate.
“Sex Kitten special?” he asked, motioning to her jumper.
“How did you guess?” said Kate. “One of Petula’s beauties. I think this was two Christmases ago.”
“What’s this year’s like?” asked Matt.
“I don’t know,” said Kate. “She’s being cagey about it.”
Kate blew on her drink and took a sip.
“Ooh, that’s good,” she said. “Touch of cinnamon?”
Matt nodded, pleased.
“Cinnamon stick,” he said. “Added to the pan while the milk’s still cold.”
Kate mmmm’d appreciatively.
“So how did the date go?” asked Matt.
“It was perfect,” said Kate.
“Perfect?” said Matt. “That’s a strong word.”
“He would have been a strong contender,” said Kate.
“But?”
“But I won’t be seeing him again.”
“Don’t want to talk about it?” asked Matt.
“Not really,” said Kate.
They sat quietly for a little while, thawing out over cocoa.
“Remember when we used to sneak in here after Mum had shut the shop and make ice cream sundaes?” said Matt.
“And when we used to steal the pain au chocolats from the cooling racks,” said Kate.
