‘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 preparing to defend an innocent gazelle from a couple of boisterous lion cubs. ‘Isabel, this is my sister Sally.’ In throwaway fashion he then added, ‘And her friend Lola!
Just to make crystal clear to everyone in the room how completely unimportant she was, how utterly irrelevant to his life.
To compound it, Isabel smiled widely and said, ‘Sally. I’ve heard all about you. Doug’s always talking about you!’
‘Is he? He’s kept very quiet about you.’ Sally unwound her lime-green scarf, flung aside her handbag and plonked herself down on the sofa. ‘So, how long have you two known each other?’
‘Glass of red?’ Evidently keen to be rid of her ASAP, Doug appeared in front of Lola with the open bottle and a clean glass.
Talk about brisk. What could she ask for that would spin things out a bit longer?
‘Actually, I’d love a coffee.’
‘Well, we’ve known each other for ages.’ Across the room, Isabel flipped back her ironed blonde hair and sat down cosily next to Sally. ‘We work together,’ she confided. ‘But we’ve only recently become ... you know, closer.’
It hadn’t been love at first sight then. That was something to be grateful for. Although it would be nice if she could have been a bit less pretty.
‘I was seeing someone else,’ Isabel went on, ‘but we broke up. After that, Doug and I just ended up getting together.’
Lola looked at Doug, sending him a telepathic message: we could do that, you and me .. .
‘Coffee.’ Doug’s tone was brusque; he didn’t appear to be telepathic. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make it.’
‘Actually I’ll come with you.’ Lola flashed him a sunny smile. ‘Then I can make sure you don’t palm me off with instant!
As she followed Doug into the kitchen, Isabel was saying cheerily, ‘... and I’m going down to Brighton tonight, to stay with my parents. That’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it? Mind you, I’m going to miss Doug! I can’t wait to see what he’s bought me. He wouldn’t let me open it tonight.’
The kitchen was nice, black and white and boasting, among other items, a huge chrome Dualit toaster.
‘Still keen on toast, then,’ said Lola.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Inspecting the cupboards. What happened to the Pot Noodles? You used to love Pot Noodles.’
Exasperated, Doug said, ‘When I was seventeen.’
‘I bet you still secretly like them. Once a Pot Noodler, always a Pot Noodler.’ Lola carried on opening and closing drawers and cupboards; finding a secret stash of Hot’n’Spicys would bring her so much joy. ‘I bet you put on a hat and dark glasses, sneak off to some supermarket miles away, praying you won’t bump into anyone you know, and buy up trolley loads at a time. And then you have to smuggle them back to Kensington — imagine the shame if the neighbours found out!’
‘Will you stop riffling through my cupboards?’
‘Why, am I getting warm?’
‘Here, just take your coffee.’ Having sunk the plunger on the cafetière in record time, Doug shoved a small cup into her hands.
Lola peered into the cup. ‘Bit weak.’
‘Too bad. Shall we head back through?’
‘What did you buy Isabel for Christmas?’
Doug looked exasperated. ‘I’m not telling you that.’
Sally, whose eavesdropping skills were second to none, said, ‘You’re not telling her what?’
when they returned to the living room.
‘I was wondering what he’d bought you for Christmas,’ said Lola, ‘that’s all.’
‘Anything’s fine by me.’ Sally beamed at Doug. ‘So long as he’s kept the receipt.’
‘Oh poor Dougie! I wouldn’t dream of taking back anything he bought me,’ trilled Isabel.
‘Whatever it was:
‘Remember when we bought each other the same CD? Parklife,’ Lola fondly reminisced without thinking. ‘God, we used to play that album non-stop. I can still remember the words to every song.’
‘Hang on, you mean you and Doug bought each other the same CD?’ Isabel looked confused.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise ...’
Lola shrugged and managed a smile that was both carefree and tinged with regret; it seemed a bit mean to announce that Dougie had been her first love.
‘Oh yes,’ Sally said helpfully. ‘They were boyfriend and girlfriend.’
‘That was a long time ago,’ Doug cut in. ‘Back in the days when I still ate Pot Noodles. As I was just explaining to Lola,’ he added pointedly, ‘our tastes change over the years.’
Isabel let out a high-pitched shriek of laughter. ‘You used to like Pot Noodles? Oh my God!’
Lola was extremely fond of Pot Noodles and felt as protective as a new mother whenever anyone made fun of them. She said evenly, ‘I like Pot Noodles. They’re brilliant. Chicken and Mushroom’s my favourite.’
Chapter 24
’How are things going with Gabe?’ In order to spare Isabel’s blushes, Doug swiftly changed the subject.
‘Hideous.’ Sally shuddered. ‘Talk about pernickety. He’s so gay, just won’t admit it.’
‘He’s not gay.’ Lola hadn’t yet managed to convince Sally but she kept saying it anyway. ‘If Gabe was gay, he’d be gay. He’s Jack Lemmon, you’re Walter Matthau and you drive him insane, that’s all it is. Some people leave tea bags in the kitchen sink,’ she told Doug, because there were times when you couldn’t help feeling sorry for Gabe. ‘Yesterday your sister left hers on the coffee table.’
Sally shrugged. Not on purpose. Only because I hadn’t realised it was still in my mug.’
Lola had been making her coffee last as long as possible. Finally she was down to the lukewarm grounds.
‘Finished? Good.’ Doug whisked away her cup, clearly keen to see the back of her.
Which – and here was her optimism rushing to the fore again – could mean that her presence was disturbing him in a good way.
‘Could I use your bathroom before I. go?’ It was freezing out there; even Doug couldn’t banish her and her bursting bladder to the vagaries of the great outdoors, surely?
Although he looked as if he’d quite like to.
‘Out in the hall. Second door on the left.’
It was actually a tricky exercise, walking the length of the living room in a natural manner, super-aware of Dougie’s eyes upon her. What was he really thinking? Was he mentally comparing her with Isabel? Come to that, how did she compare with Isabel? Her rival – the rival she hadn’t known existed before now – was a cool sleek blonde with high-maintenance hair and a hint of the ice princess about her. She was probably more classically beautiful but was she as much fun? Pretty was all very well but Lola felt she might have the edge when it came to character. She was the playful spaniel whereas Isabel was more of a pampered feline; Isabel was Grace Kelly while she was Doris Day; Isabel had the kind of high-pitched laugh that could easily start to get on a man’s nerves after a—
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