Mistletoe Mansion (17 page)

‘Thank you, dear.’ Vivian took her coffee from me.

‘I’ll have one of Melissa’s lovely Macchiatos please,’ said Kate.

‘Got any green tea?’ said Saffron. ‘If not, I’ll have a black coffee, ta. Got to watch my figure – otherwise the men won’t, know what I mean?’ She smiled smugly. ‘Although I couldn’t do nothing so energetic as Melissa. All that sweat. Don’t you get bored of your own exercise DVD, babes?’

‘I’m with Saffron,’ said Denise. ‘And I couldn’t sit through all those manicures and hair appointments, either.’

‘I see it as my duty, as one of the national birdies,’ said Melissa, in a tight voice. ‘People expect me to look my best at all times.’

Vivian was on her feet, studying a portrait of the golfing wife.

‘It’s very brave to hang that up,’ said Saffron, innocently. ‘Was it drawn before you went on a diet?’

‘Just look how the artist’s captured Melissa’s fine bone structure and glossy hair,’ said Sandra firmly, as she passed by and winked at Melissa. ‘No amount of weight loss could achieve those two things.’

Saffron wrinkled her nose.

‘Kimmy, isn’t it?’ said Kate to me, as I tried to make my escape. ‘The cakes look delicious.’

‘Yes, maybe you could hand them around, Kimmy,’ said Melissa, in a measured voice. ‘
KimCake Ltd
’s products are very exclusive.’

‘Never understood people paying for fairy cakes,’ said Vivian.

Denise nodded. ‘Especially us mums. Having kids makes you your own expert on icing and sprinkles. And just because they cost the earth doesn’t mean they’re the best quality. We had a patient in the other day who’d ordered some fancy ones online. They’d taken a big bite and almost choked on a plastic twist tie.’

‘These are rather special though, and Christmas-themed,’ said Melissa, through gritted teeth. She glared at me.

‘Um yes,’ I stuttered, and gave them a tour of the two pretty stands. Kate clapped her hands when I mentioned the mincemeat cupcakes’ brandy buttercream icing. Vivian sniffed and said she’d try the Santa Colada, only because Denise was driving. Saffron, in between gazing at Melissa’s lush furnishing, interrogated me as to the number of grams of fat in each skinny Stollen and said I should really offer gluten-free, as that was a very trendy diet. Modest Denise said she’d try a cinnamon and spice muffin, as that was the least fancy. So I served their requests onto the delicate china plates and left the room. At least whilst they ate, it went quiet.

I mean, jeez! Friendly Wysteria Lane of Desperate Housewives it wasn’t! I’d always thought that being a celebrity meant people would like you, or at least pretend. But Saffron was obviously jealous, Denise unimpressed, Vivian competitive… Thank God for Kate. If anything could bond this mismatched bunch together, it would be eating cakes with the melt-in-mouth buttercream icing and kick of sugary sponge.

When I went back, Vivian was onto her second Santa Colada and Denise was asking Melissa if she could have a plain biscuit instead of another cake. Kate gave me the thumbs up and wiped some brandy buttercream icing from around her mouth. Saffron was playing with her healthier skinny Stollen, a tortured look on her face as she refused to let herself eat it. Melissa should have shared her tip about chewing it then spitting it out. But there was no need as Saffron finally put down her plate. Then she ran her hand over the expensive sofa.

‘Have to say, I am rather impressed, young lady,’ said Vivian to me and raised her cupcake, a popping candy fizzing noise coming from her mouth. ‘This Malibu icing is delicious and the dessicated coconut’s texture just sets off the richness.’

‘Same for the brandy buttercream icing,’ said Kate and licked her thumb. ‘Good thing I’m not driving home.’

‘Don’t know what’s wrong with simple flavours nowadays,’ muttered Denise. ‘Go to buy a chocolate bar and you have the choice of about ten versions. And it’s impossible to understand the list of ingredients. One of our patients has a nut allergy and is always coming in with Mick Jagger lips, after eating something that’s been cross-contaminated and not clearly labelled’

‘Kimmy has an impeccable record,’ said Melissa, in her velvet tones. ‘I was lucky to find her.’

‘Who else have you catered for, dear?’ asked Vivian.

‘Um, most of the national team,’ I said, with an air of confidence, despite crossing my fingers. ‘And some footballers.’

‘Really?’ Saffron sat upright. ‘That’s mental!’

Vivian shook her head and smiled, as if to say the young woman would eventually grow out of being impressed by celebritydom.

‘I’m holding a hen night for my big sis this Friday,’ continued Saffron. ‘We’re having a buffet – you know, finger food, like on those frozen food supermarket adverts. You could give me your card. It’s not too late, is it? I’m thinking pink and glittery with her name on, and all the better if you have a recipe that’s low-cal… I saw one in Starchat last month for chocolate fudge cupcakes. They done a list of all the celebs eating healthy at the moment. Gluten-free cupcakes are the latest must-have,’ she said and shook back her bouffant blonde hair, as if she’d just made some important announcement.

Blimey. She sounded just like me yakking to Adam about the latest celebrity gossip. I passed her one of my, ahem, business cards – they were tucked in the pocket at the front of my apron.

‘It’s my niece’s seventh birthday in a few weeks,’ said Kate. ‘I’d love a boxful to take along, if you could theme them around Disney Princesses.’

‘Um… of course.’ I handed out another paper slip, successfully containing my excitement until I got back to the kitchen. Adam would be well impressed with this.

‘Open a bottle of champagne, will you, darling,’ said Melissa, as she appeared right behind me. ‘Everything okay?’

She’d caught me jumping on the spot, clapping my hands.

‘Just a bit of cramp.’ I grabbed a bottle out of the fridge, whilst she put some glasses on a tray.

‘I think these ladies need loosening up a bit before I bring out the Botox.’ Melissa grinned.

I carried the filled glasses through and Melissa encouraged them all to have at least a few sips.

‘Far too early in the day for me,’ said Denise and put down her glass.

‘Never too early, as far as I’m concerned,’ joked Kate.

‘So tell us, dear,’ said Vivian to Melissa, in a booming voice (maybe I’d overdone the Malibu). ‘Which charity are we supporting? How much would you like us to contribute for every cake we eat – or…’ she eyed the remaining Santa Coladas, ‘… buy to take home?’

Melissa cleared her throat. ‘You’ve probably been wondering who Sandra is, to-ing and fro-ing in her white coat.’ She nodded towards the conservatory at the end of the room, where the nail lady had just finished setting up.

‘I assumed she was your cleaner,’ said Denise. ‘We’d already met the gardener. It must be nice to have so much help.’

‘No. I mean I do have a cleaner but it’s her day off. Sandra’s… well perhaps she should explain.’

‘Is she a nurse?’ said Saffron. ‘You trying to help her raise money for new hospital equipment?’

Melissa waved to Sandra, who made her way past the gold birdcage and over to the plum sofa and chairs where the guests sat. I stood in the doorway, ready to bolt to the kitchen for more champagne if required.

‘Um, this isn’t exactly a charity fundraiser,’ said Melissa and beamed. ‘I thought I’d do all of you hardworking wives a favour instead. Sandra?’

The tiny woman gave a warm smile. ‘Good morning, ladies. I’m the answer to your prayers. Ever looked in the mirror and wondered who that was looking back? Ever bought a new outfit, had your hair done, and still felt inadequate? From behind her back she drew out her hand, her long red-nailed fingers grasping a needle. ‘Botox, ladies,’ she said. ‘It’s the easiest way to get the face that reflects the real you.’ She jerked her head towards Melissa’s portrait. ‘By the time I’ve finished with you, you could look almost as glamorous as the lovely Mrs Winsford.’

Smugly, Melissa folded her arms. This was her
pièce de résistance
. Er, yes, resistance, all right. Denise’s eyebrows knotted across so far they almost became one. Kate and Vivian’s mouths fell open.

‘Botox?’ they gasped, in horror.

Chapter 13

‘You’ve got to be joking, Melissa. You brought me all this way under false pretences so that someone could inject a toxin into my face?’ Denise shook her head. ‘This isn’t as exciting as it might seem,’ she said to Saffron, who had sat bolt upright, eyes all sparkly.

‘Toxin’s a misleading word,’ said Sandra. She went over to Denise and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘And we all enjoy a few glasses of wine, but that’s not supposed to do your liver any good – what’s the difference? We can do it right here if you like. Just lean back and relax, deep breaths…’

Saffron glanced at the other ladies and her shoulders sagged. ‘Um, of course. Denise is right,’ she said and shook back her hair. ‘Anyway, who’s to say all of us need it, know what I mean?’

‘And even if we do,’ interrupted Vivian, ‘it’s cost me a lot of air miles and packets of Silk Cut getting my wrinkles. That’s quite an investment. Who wants to see the face of a twenty year old on the body of a gran?’

‘Might be a few sessions before we could knock that many years off you,’ muttered Sandra and brandished the needle.

‘It’s only a bit of fun,’ said Melissa. ‘Kate… You’re up for it?’

‘Sorry, hon, but how will I tell the kids off, if I can’t even frown?’

‘One of our patients had too much and it spread,’ said Denise, flinching as Sandra raised her needle. ‘It gave her temporary facial paralysis. Her cheek muscles were so badly affected, she couldn’t eat properly for weeks.’

‘She lost weight as well, then?’ said Melissa. ‘Bonus! Come on, ladies. It’s my treat and doesn’t hurt a bit. I mean, not that I’d know, but so I’m told.’ Her cheeks tinged pink.

‘Just relax,’ said Sandra to the doctor’s receptionist. ‘You’ll hardly feel a thing.’

Denise’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you even properly trained? I don’t fancy placing my face in the hands of a nail technician.’

‘Like you’ve got a lot to lose,’ muttered Melissa.

‘I’ve been treating Mrs Wins… um, I mean, lots of clients, successfully for months,’ said Sandra.

Saffron did a poor job of suppressing a smile. ‘Wow, Melissa, babes, so the rumours are true. You must be even older than I thought if Botox is your best bud.’

‘You look great on it, hon,’ said Kate in a loud voice. ‘I guess it’s just not for everyone. But…’ she glared at the others. ‘It was very generous of you to think of us.’

Denise grabbed her rucksack and stood up. ‘Speak for yourself, Kate. I’m a busy working woman with a family to look after. If this isn’t for charity, then I’m wasting my time.’

‘And I don’t want to end up with lips like obese caterpillars,’ said Saffron. ‘No one would ever kiss me again.’

‘It’s collagen that does that,’ I said.

‘Whatever,’ she replied airily and picked up her handbag.

‘It was just… I thought you’d be pleased,’ said Melissa, eyes looking all shiny. ‘Your average woman doesn’t get the chance to go to a Botox party.’

‘Are you calling us average?’ said Saffron, drawn-on eyebrows arched.

‘Botox parties are for people with too much money, if you ask me,’ said Vivian. ‘Or too little sense. Whereas we all live in the real world…’ She flicked some crumbs off her silk blouse and wavering slightly, stood up. As she walked past, she patted my arm. ‘I’ll get your number. Those Santa Coladas would be a huge hit at my Bridge Club.’

I smiled but didn’t feel like jumping quite so high as before because Melissa’s shoulders slumped as her guests left. Sandra was back in the conservatory, shaking her head as she packed away her stuff.

‘Ring you later,’ said Kate to Melissa, and mouthed “sorry” before following on the heels of Saffron who, with a flounce of her frilly dress, teetered out of the room.

‘What went wrong?’ Melissa sank onto the plum sofa. She swilled back a mouthful of champagne and asked me to fetch another bottle and a glass for myself. By the time I got back, she was ready for a second glass.

‘Here,’ I said and passed her one of the rich mincemeat cupcakes. ‘This’ll make you feel better.’

‘Whatever do you mean? The morning was a success. They enjoyed the food. I’m sure they thought me very generous.’ But her mouth downturned and she took a huge bite. ‘Sod the calories. Take one yourself. At least we know how to enjoy ourselves. Saffron hardly ate one mouthful. And as for Denise… She’s always got some medical horror story to tell.’

I took one of the dark chocolate logs before sitting next to her, on the sofa. Who would believe I was sipping champagne in Jonny Winsford’s house? I felt another Facebook status announcement coming on: “Champers to celebrate as business is booming.”

‘Do you want me to stay for a while, Melissa?’ said Sandra in a soft voice as she stopped by us, holding her case. She’d taken off her coat to reveal a pastel skirt and smart magnolia blouse. ‘Don’t you worry about those ladies. They wouldn’t know a favour if it pinched them on the bottom.’

‘No. Honestly. But perhaps you could come round later in the week to do my nails. Your cheque…’ Melissa muttered, words slightly slurring now.

‘Don’t worry, dear.’ Sandra squeezed Melissa’s shoulder. ‘We’ll sort that out next time. I’ll show myself out.’ She disappeared into the hallway and the front door opened and closed.

‘She seems nice,’ I said.

Melissa topped up our glasses. ‘My manicure sessions are a godsend. Sandra always has really good advice. She’s shown me this facial exercise routine that’s supposed to produce results better than a facelift. And once I opened a bottle of champagne for lunch whilst she was here to celebrate sales of my DVD. I’d forgotten I was supposed to drive to meet Jonny in Harpenden for some fundraiser. Sandra insisted on giving me a lift there and wouldn’t let me order a taxi.’ She took a large sip. ‘What a wasted opportunity. Those women don’t know how to make the best of themselves.’ Her words were less velvety and strands of hair had slipped out of her chignon. ‘And we never got to try your savoury nibbles. I’ll keep them if you like. Jonny’s agent’s visiting tonight.’