THE SEVENTH DATE OF CHRISTMAS
•••••
Hiking and Hickeys
"Eurgh!" said Laura. "Rather you than me."
"Well," said Kate. "You know me, I love a bit of nature."
They were sitting at the back of the Blexford Manor tearooms. It was Laura's lunch break and Kate had walked up to meet her. The tearoom was almost deserted; one elderly couple shared an Eccles cake and a pot of tea at the other end of the room.
The sound of hammering and a good deal of shouting could be heard from the courtyard, where the Christmas market stalls were being constructed for tomorrow. Then the tearoom would be full. Blexford Manor's Christmas fair always pulled in a crowd.
Laura was wearing her uniform: a navy blue skirt and blazer with her name badge pinned on her lapel. Her hair was tied back into a loose but smart chignon. She cut quite a different figure from the harassed mother of two, with mad hair and sick down her top, who went by the same name the other three days of the week.
Laura bit lovingly into her toasted brie-and-cranberry panini.
"I swear to God I come to work for a break," she said. "I get my food made for me. And my coffee. And nobody pulls on my legs or bites my nipples."
Kate winced.
"I should hope not!"
Laura wasn't listening.
"I'm going to have to give up breastfeeding," she said. "Charley's teeth are like little needles. It's agony."
"Laura, you're putting me off my lunch," said Kate.
"Sorry," said Laura. She took another bite of her lunch and moaned with delight. "Maybe I should come back to work full time."
"You'd miss the kids too much," said Kate.
"Maybe," Laura mused. "So anyway, how come you're hiking? I thought you were down for laser tag on this one."
"I was," said Kate. "But I emailed the rep and she said that Oliver was down for laser tag too. So I swapped."
Laura pulled a sad face.
"But you really liked him," she said.
"But he's still hung up on Sarah," said Kate. "The whole idea is just way too complicated. And you have to admit it's a bit icky: me with Sarah's ex-fiancé."
"Love weaves its magic in mysterious ways," said Laura, fluttering her hands in front of Kate's as though she might pull a stream of colored hankies from her sleeve.
"Yeah, well, I think I'll leave this mystery alone," said Kate.
"Not even for a bit of fun?" said Laura, making obscene gestures with her hands. "It's been a while, Kate. He could brush away the cobwebs for you!"
"Laura, you have no boundaries at the dinner table."
Laura grinned.
"Have a baby," she said. "Have seventeen people looking up your vagina and see how many boundaries you have left."
The tearooms were in what was the original banqueting hall. The ornately painted ceiling was so high that even with dozens of heaters pushing out hot air, the warmth was lost in its vastness.
The Pear Tree Bakery used to supply the manor with bread and still did until the late nineties, when they found a cheaper supplier out of town, a big bread manufacturer that could churn out bulk quickly and cheaply. It was this loss of business that encouraged the Harrisons to retire.
With the recent resurgence of homegrown produce and cottage industry, Matt had been approached by the manor and asked if he had any products to sell regularly in their farm shop. Funny how things go around, thought Kate. Though she suspected Laura might have influenced their interest.
And so Matt had a stall at the Blexford Manor Christmas fair. He'd spent a week in the autumn preserving fruits in brandy, just as his mother had, and stinking up the whole café with his spicy tomato chutneys and chili jams. They would be sold beside Carla's Christmas gingerbread men and Evelyn's miniature boozy Christmas cakes. Kate was going to start making chocolate truffle gift bags as soon as she got home after lunch.
"So where are you hiking to and from?" asked Laura. "Have you been assigned a date?"
"Through and around Epping Forest," said Kate. "We're meeting at one of the visitor centers at ten a.m. on Sunday. And yes, I've been assigned a date."
Kate reached for her phone before her friend even asked and flipped through to the picture of her next date:
"Phil. Forty. Owns an independent extreme sports store," said Kate, handing her phone to Laura.
Laura looked at the picture and nodded sagely.
"This," said Laura, stabbing her finger at the photo. "This is the one."
Phil's profile picture was him leaned up against a surfboard. He had matted salt-sea-spray hair and a deep tan, and he wore a wetsuit and a smile that implied complete confidence in the way he looked.
"Well, he won't be wearing a wet suit on Sunday, that's for sure," said Kate. "The weather forecast is minus two that day."
"Like I said," said Laura. "Rather you than me."
Laura scrolled through Phil's particulars and read them out loud as if Kate hadn't seen them yet.
"Never been married," she said. "One child. Loves his dogs. Looking for someone special to share his hobbies with. Awww, he sounds lovely." Laura swooned. "Let's hope he wasn't engaged to any of your friends!"
Kate snatched the phone back from Laura.
"Heard from Dick yet?" Laura asked.
"No," said Kate. "I haven't heard from Richard yet. He was the hero of the hour, you know," Kate went on. "You could cut him some slack."
"He did nothing more than any decent person would have," said Laura. "I'll call him Richard when he actually follows up on the lost date of Christmas. Until then," she said, using her finger to swipe some spilled cranberry sauce from her plate into her mouth, "he's a Dick."
Laura went back to work and Kate ambled back down the quiet roads toward home. The grass verges were still covered in snow, and with the day's cold clear sky it seemed unlikely they'd be thawing anytime soon.
She pulled her bobble hat down further over her ears. She was looking forward to the hike. She hadn't been to Epping Forest in years. And there was much less pressure to make conversation on a hike. She'd take her camera with her and if things were really dire, she'd bury herself in finding images for her mood boards and Phil would be none the wiser of her indifference toward him.
Her phone rang. It was a number she didn't recognize. She almost dismissed the call but curiosity got the better of her.
"Hello, Kate?" said a deep husky voice.
"Speaking," said Kate.
"It's Richard."
Kate's stomach leaped. In your face, Laura!
"Oh," said Kate, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. "Hi!"
"Sorry it's taken me so long to get in touch," said Richard. "Turns out I hadn't left my phone at the club. It was nicked. I had to have a temporary phone for a couple of days and, well, I won't bore you with the details, you know how it is. Anyway, I'm calling to see if I can take you on that first date."
"Yes," said Kate. She didn't want to seem too keen, even though she felt like she wanted to climb down the phone and give him a good sniff. "Yes, you can."
"Great!" said Richard. "My treat. Do you know the Smugglers Arms in Great Blexley?"
They agreed to meet the following night outside the pub. Before she went home, Kate dropped in to see Evelyn to ask if the Sex Kittens could help Sarah's school with their costumes.
"Well, of course we will!" said Evelyn. "I don't know why she didn't ask me herself, silly girl."
"I don't think it occurred to her ask," said Kate.
"That's what you get from living in the Big Town," said Evelyn. "Big-town mentality! Every man's an island!"
Evelyn continued to vocalize her opinions on the failings of living in the Big Town while Kate puttered about the shop, gathering the ingredients she'd need for making truffles.
"Baking for Matt again?" asked Evelyn as Kate laid her shopping by the till.
"As always," said Kate.
"What would he do without you?" Evelyn mused.
"Find another mug to do it, I should think," said Kate.
•••••
Tiny bubbles began to ripple beneath the surface of the double cream in the milk pan. Kate kept a steady eye on it, waiting for the first wave of a rolling boil. Laid out across the work surface were three deep glass bowls, each half filled with chopped dark chocolate.
Thick white bubbles broke the surface and began to rise up the pan. Kate whipped it off the heat and gently poured the hot cream over the chocolate in the first bowl. She gave it a moment and then gently stirred the mixture together, slowly and carefully, the dark chocolate melting into the pale cream in rich hickory stripes.
When the hot ganache mixture was fully combined, Kate dropped in some softened butter and two generous tablespoons of brandy and stirred again until she had a smooth glossy texture. The aroma was more than she could bear; her mouth watered. Luckily, she was prepared. She grabbed the extra bar from the cupboard, tore away the foil, and snapped off a glistening dark umber chunk of chocolate, making mmmm sounds to herself as it melted on her tongue.
She set the bowl aside to cool. When the ganache set, Kate would scoop out teaspoons of the mixture and roll it into balls before dipping each one in chopped hazelnuts or cocoa.
Her mind kept drifting to her impending date with Richard. Though it went against her every feminist impulse, Kate found the idea of such a devoted father an appealing trait in a man. She had to keep reminding herself not to discount Phil, her hiking date for Sunday, just because some guy had made her ovaries swoon.
She washed the milk pan and poured in another tub of cream, ready to begin the process again. She would do the next batch with raspberry liqueur. She had some dried raspberries to toss them in when they were ready: delicate little buds of velvet puce. The last batch would be half cocoa and half icing-sugar-dusted whiskey truffles. She just had to make sure she got more in the bags than in her mouth. Not easy.
The phone rang as she set the fresh pan on the stove. It was Matt.
"Hi!" she said. "I'm up to my eyes in truffles for the market."
"Oh," said Matt. "Great. Yeah."
"You all right?" asked Kate.
Silence on the other end. She could hear him breathing. She sensed his hesitation. It wasn't like Matt to be indecisive. Not with her anyway. He was usually bold to the point of rude.
"Come on!" she said. "Spit it out."
"Did anything happen at the Dates with Mates night?" Matt asked.
Kate swallowed.
"Like what?" she asked brightly.
"I don't know," said Matt. "Just. I don't know."
"You'll need to be more specific," Kate said. Sarah had expressly asked her not to mention anything about Oliver to Matt, and she wasn't about to break her confidence. But at the same time, if Sarah had folded and told Matt of her own volition, then Kate needed to know before she denied all knowledge.
"It's just," said Matt. "These last few days. Sarah's been a bit ... well, distant. And I wondered if you'd maybe said anything to her?"
Kate swirled the cream in the pan and set it back down on the heat.
"Like?" she asked.