Page 63 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“I’ll teach you,” said Matt. “Or you can take the money while I make the coffee. It’ll be good to have the company. And an extra pair of hands.”
Kate mulled it over.It might be nice, she thought. Weddings at the manor were a notoriously grand affair; she could stand to watch how the other half lived for a day. And there were worse ways to spend her days off than down by the sea. And it would be nice to be with Matt. He certainly never made for dull company; although there was always the risk that he might drive her crazy and she’d end up running him over with the trailer and leaving him for dead...
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
•••••
By five o’clock they had sold out of everything, so they flipped the shutters down over the hatch and locked up for the night. It took three trips to carry all the empty crates back to the van. The fair was officially open until six thirty p.m., but already it was beginning to wind down since the snow wasn’t letting up and people were anxious to get home.
It looked like a fairy-tale Christmas village in the dark. The carolers had packed up and left, and their joyous tones were replaced by a CD ofChristmas Hitsplaying over the PA and a cluster of battery-operated singing Santas on a stall near the stables.
“Looks like I’ll be up all night baking,” said Matt. He was sotransparent. “Good job I warned Evelyn and Carla to be on standby for more Christmas goodies.”
Kate knew what was coming.Don’t do it, she thought.Say no!She steeled herself to keep her resolve.
“I don’t suppose you could...”
“I’ve got a date tonight, remember?” said Kate. “And another one first thing tomorrow morning. I really haven’t got time. I’m sorry.”
Matt looked at her with big amber-flecked eyes and she felt instantly guilty.
“That’s all right,” he said. “It was worth a try.”
That made her feel even worse.
“Couldn’t Sarah help?” she asked.
“She’s staying at her mum’s tonight; the weather’s quite bad there, so she doesn’t want to drive home in the dark,” Matt replied.
“Look,” said Kate. “I’ll give you my truffle recipes.”
Matt screwed his face up and ran his hand through his hair.
“What if I get stuck?” he said.
“You won’t get stuck,” said Kate. “I’ll give you my ingredients as well and if you’re really stumped you can call me.”
Matt grinned.
“But only if you’rereallystumped,” she reiterated. “Don’t be calling me just to be a pain in the arse because you know I’m on a date.”
“As if I would,” said Matt, feigning a hurt expression.
“Shut up and drive me home,” said Kate.
•••••
With Matt loaded up with her foolproof truffle recipes and ingredients and on his way home, Kate began the task of getting ready for her date with Richard. She thought about wearing the tea dress she’d worn for their first ill-fated date, but she didn’t want to jinx it.
In the end she settled for a pair of tight dark blue Levi’s, a pair of biker boots—sexy and practical—and a bottle-green jumper with a gold-thread fleck running through it. Her hair was curly from having gone from damp to dry more times than she could mention that day, and so she swept it up and clipped it loosely, letting the shorter bits fall where they liked. A swish of lipstick, a hasty squirt of perfume, and she was off.
It was still snowing, but the roads were clear as she drove to Great Blexley. The Smugglers Arms was an old-fashioned pub. The walls retained their tobacco-yellow hue as a nod to the days when you could smoke in public houses. The velvet-covered chairs and sofas were threadbare on the seats and shiny at the backs, from years of greasy heads being rubbed against them. But the atmosphere was friendly, the landlord didn’t mind if you kept throwing more logs onto the fire, and they served the best hot roast beef sandwiches this side of London.
Kate nervously scanned the low-lit bar. It had occurred to her, as she pulled into the car park, that she didn’t really know anything about Richard, and she felt a sudden trepidation about meeting up with a perfect stranger outside the safety net of the Twelve Dates organization.
As if reading her mind, Laura had rung as she turned off the engine.
“Kate, are you there yet?” she asked.
