Page 88 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
Kate stood and followed the rep through a concealed door in the paneling, down a cramped corridor, and into a small, brightly lit office.The rep motioned for Kate to sit and Kate did so, plonking herself down hard in one of the chairs at the paper-strewn desk.
“This relates to what we were talking about earlier,” said the rep. “We need your help.”
“Mine?” said Kate. “What with?”
“You see, most of the people who’ve signed up are genuine, like you,” said the rep. “But there is a certain element who have formed a TwelveShagsof Christmas betting ring.”
“Jim?” said Kate.
“Among others,” said the rep. “We’ve been expelling the culprits as we discover them, but Jim has been hard to pin down. We can’t take action until we have evidence and so far, all of Jim’s dates have left with him willingly.”
“Where do I sign?” said Kate. “He told me himself he had money riding on this.”
The rep smiled and opened the laptop on the desk.
“If you could submit a complaint form, we can expel him from the Twelve Dates and any other forums across the Lightning Strikes website,” said the rep.
“What about the woman outside?” Kate asked. “She seems too drunk to make good decisions.”
“I’ve already called her a cab and the barman is going to make sure she gets in the car alone,” said the rep. “The second you submit your form we can exclude Jim from the restaurant.”
Kate was already filling in the complaint form.
“He is going to be so pissed,” said Kate. She smiled broadly. “I wonder how much money he’s got riding on getting afull house?”
“The last I heard,” said the rep, “the jackpot was up to five grand. Each participant has to put two hundred pounds in the pot to join, and then they can bet more depending on how confident they are.”
“Jim seemed pretty confident,” said Kate. “I reckon he’s bet himself high.”
“We can only hope.” The rep smiled.
Kate waited until Jim had been removed from the restaurant and been seen entering a taxialonebefore slipping back out through the paneled door and out of the restaurant.
She grabbed herself a coffee from a late-night coffeehouse and sat outside beneath an awning heater and watched the theatergoers hurrying by after the evening performances and the tourists meandering along with spirits and cameras high.
She called Evelyn.
“What’s wrong?” said Evelyn, ever astute. “Is everything all right?”
“Not really,” said Kate.
She gave Evelyn a brief account of the evening’s events.
“Get yourself over here,” said Evelyn. “You know where we are, don’t you?”
“New Covent Garden market,” said Kate.
“That’s the place,” said Evelyn. “I’m getting ready to haggle with tree sellers! Call me when you arrive and I’ll direct you to where we are.”
Kate couldn’t be bothered with the hassle of the tube, so she hailed a taxi and spent a small fortune on the ride to the gigantic marketplace. The market didn’t open till midnight, but Evelyn would have made sure Patrick got them there at least an hour before it opened, so as to get a good parking spot and so that she was first in when the doors opened.
The taxi dropped her off near the fruit and veg entrance at eleven forty-five p.m. Traders had already begun to queue. It was going to be a busy night. Kate guessed there’d be a big rush on sprouts.
She called Evelyn.
“Where are you?” asked Evelyn.
“I’m at the entrance,” said Kate.
