Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

Will you two give it a rest?’ complained Lola. ‘I’m starting to feel like a Relate counsellor. Here you go.’ She dumped a copy of theYellow Pages in front of Gabe. ‘Find a picture agency and give them a ring.’

‘How do I know which one to choose?’

‘That one.’ Leaning over Gabe’s shoulder, Sally pointed to a small box advert for the Carter Agency.

Gabe twisted round to look at her. ‘Why?’

‘I know Colin Carter. He’s married to my friend Janey. That’s how I know about picture agencies,’ said Sally. ‘Colin’s a good bloke and he wouldn’t rip you off. I can give him a ring now if you like, tell him what you’ve got.’

‘Great! Gabe passed her his phone.

But Sally hadn’t completely forgiven him yet. As she began keying in the number she said crisply, ‘Not that you deserve it. I can’t imagine why I’m being so kind to you when you’re always so horrible to me.’

Chapter 23

The photographs appeared in the Daily Mirror two days later. They were also sold to newspapers and magazines all over the world. Colin Carter had just phoned Gabe and told him that he had a good eye for a picture; if he came up with any more photos he should be sure to give him a call.

It was Christmas Eve and without ever having considered it, Gabe now found himself with the possibility of a brand new career as a member of the paparazzi.

He gazed at the newspapers spread out on the coffee table in front of him and frowned. ‘I couldn’t do it. Everyone hates the paparazzi.’

‘It might be fun. All those celebs,’ Lola said encouragingly. ‘All that fresh air.’

Gabe hesitated. He really didn’t want to go back to being a chartered surveyor. ‘But you know what I’m like. I wouldn’t recognise half the people I was supposed to be photographing.’

‘God, listen to you: Sally emerged from her room, her arms loaded with gift-wrapped presents.

‘You old fogey! You don’t say photographing, you say papping.’ Never one to pass up the opportunity to have a dig, she said gleefully, ‘You’ll be playing records next, on your wind-up gramophone, whilst puffing away on a Woodbine.’

Gabe rolled his eyes. ‘Are you off? Don’t let us keep you.’

‘Oh, are you leaving now?’ Lola jumped up; it was seven in the evening and each of them was heading home to spend Christmas day with their families. ‘Are you getting a cab to Barnes? Give everyone my love.’ Well, Dougie. She didn’t want Adele appropriating any of it; more to the point, couldn’t imagine Adele wanting any of her love.

No, I’m catching the tube to Doug’s then we’re going in his car. If you like,’ Sally told Gabe,

‘you can borrow my magazines and start learning who everyone is.’

‘Maybe next week. I’m not spending Christmas doing homework.’

Doug lived in Kensington. ‘You can’t carry all those presents on the tube by yourself,’ said Lola.

‘Why don’t I give you a hand? Kensington’s practically on the way to Streatham.’

Sally frowned. ‘But you’ve got loads of stuff to carry too.’

‘Less than you have. Wouldn’t it be easier for me to help you?’

‘OK, better idea,’ said Sally, ‘how about if I give Doug a call and ask him to come and pick me up. I’ll just say I’ve got too many bags.’ She paused, looked at the expression on Lola’s face.

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem fair on him ...’

‘But he won’t mind!’

Lola looked doubtful. ‘He might say he doesn’t.’

‘Well, I don’t get this.’ Sally shook her head, baffled. ‘I thought you’d have liked the idea of Doug coming over. Don’t say you’ve gone off him.’

Gabe grinned at her. ‘Are you serious? Try turning it around.The reason Lola doesn’t want your brother driving over is because ... hmm, let me think, she’d far rather see where he lives and have a good look around his flat. Because she’s nosy.’

‘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.’