‘Is that why?’ Sally turned to Lola, surprised. Lola shrugged evasively; Gabe knew her too well.
‘Might be.’
‘For heaven’s sake! Why didn’t you just say so, then? What am I, a mind-reader?’ Sally rolled her eyes. ‘Get your coat on and let’s go.’
Lola didn’t need to be asked twice. Since sobbing all over Dougie the other evening he’d been occupying her thoughts even more than before. He’d been so nice to her and being back in his arms — albeit briefly — had felt so right. She’d been dreaming about those arms. And for the first time she’d seriously begun to wonder if it might be possible to win Dougie back.
Doug lived in the ground floor flat of a huge Victorian pillar-fronted house in Onslow Gardens.
If Lola thought she’d done pretty well for herself property-wise, his flat was several rungs further up the ladder. Then again, he was a management consultant with a super-successful company he’d built up from scratch; it had to pay well.
‘Phew, here we are,’ panted Sally, climbing the white marble steps and ringing the bell with her shoulder.
‘I’m feeling so Christmassy! Wouldn’t it be great if it could start to snow now?’ Lola hugged the bags of presents and felt her stomach tighten with excitement. For so many years she’d felt this way about the thought of seeing Father Christmas; now she was feeling it at the prospect of seeing Dougie again.
What’s more, she’d watched Love, Actually enough times to know that magical things could happen on Christmas Eve. Her cheeks were glowing and her hair was fetchingly tousled. She was wearing her favourite white fluffy scarf. And her mouth was slicked with a subtle but sparkly Guerlain lipstick that looked like pink frost and tasted delicious. If Doug wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss her, she could guarantee he wouldn’t be disappointed.
‘Come on, come on, hurry up,’ Sally urged through chattering teeth.
Well, he wouldn’t be disappointed if only he’d come and open the door. Checking for CCTV
cameras, Lola suppressed the less than welcome thought that Doug could have seen her on his doorstep and was now pretending to be out. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Had he never watched Love, Actually? Didn’t he know how romantic Christmas Eve could be, if only he’d relax into it, let bygones be bygones, and just let fate take its natural course?
Then the front door opened and there he was, barefoot and wearing a blue and white striped shirt over frayed jeans. Unable to help herself, Lola took a quick intake of breath and began to cough as the ice-cold air hit the back of her throat. One day, one day, she’d learn to be elegant and in control.
‘Bloody hell, about time too,’ Sally complained, bustling past him. ‘It’s freezing out there.’
‘OK, two things. It’s not even eight o’clock yet. I said to come over at nine.’
‘You said eight.’
‘Nine. Definitely nine.’
‘Oh well, never mind. I’m early!’
‘And secondly,’ Doug’s dark eyes narrowed, ‘what’s Lola doing here? Because I’m fairly sure our mother hasn’t invited her to spend Christmas Day with us.’
Lola’s heart sank. So he hadn’t ever watched Love, Actually.
‘Don’t be sarcastic. Lola’s here because she’s doing me a favour,’ said Sally. ‘I had too much stuff to carry so she offered to help me out.’
‘See? I’m a nice person really.’ Lola beamed hopefully. ‘And don’t panic, I’m on my way to my mum’s. I just saw that Sal was struggling with all her parcels so I said I’d lend her a hand getting them here.’
‘Fine. I’ll take them off you, shall I?’ Having seized the bags containing the presents, Doug stepped back. ‘There we go. Thanks. Have a good Christmas.’
He was a man. He probably only watched testosterone-fuelled, action-packed films like Mission: Impossible and The Great Escape.
‘Don’t be so rude,’ Sally exclaimed. ‘Honestly, I’m so ashamed of you sometimes. I was going to ring earlier and ask you to come and pick me up, but Lola said I mustn’t do that, you were far too busy and important to have time to drive over to us, and that she really didn’t mind struggling onto the tube and fighting through the crowds and trudging through the streets ...’
Lola cleared her throat; Sally was getting carried away now
‘Anyway, the least you can do is invite her in for a drink to say thank you.’
Doug gave her a long-suffering look, then turned and said, ‘Lola, thank you for helping my sister. Won’t you come in for a drink?’
‘Doug, that’s so kind of you.’ Checking her watch, Lola broke into a delighted smile. ‘I shouldn’t really, but ... oh, go on then. You’ve twisted my arm!’
The living room was blissfully warm, L-shaped and comfortably furnished. Lola, greedily taking in every detail, noted that Doug — thank God — was neither as chaotically untidy as his sister nor as obsessively neat as Gabe. Charcoal-grey curtains hung at the long sash windows, contrasting with the deep crimson walls. There were magazines beside the sofa, DVDs next to the TV, a dark blue sweater left hanging over the back of a chair, various prints and paintings on the walls, two discarded wine glasses on the coffee table .. .
Oh, and a blonde in the kitchen doorway. Now there was an accessory she could have happily done without.
‘Hi,’ said the blonde.
‘Hi.’ Lola felt as if she’d just stepped into a lift that wasn’t there.
‘Well, well, this is a surprise.’ Sally, never backward in coming forward, said, ‘Who are you?’
‘This is Isabel. A friend of mine.’ The way Doug moved towards her was oddly protective, almost as if he was
