Page 72 of Last Christmas in London

‘Afternoon, Miss Frost,’ Tony, the doorman, greeted as I approached.

‘Hey, Tony. How busy is the bar today?’ I asked, thinking that a little privacy wouldn’t be a bad thing.

‘Neither are open just yet.’

‘Ah, of course.’ Just as I had hoped. ‘Would anyone mind if I took a quick call from the American Bar? I’d rather not do it in Pim’s suite.’

Tony shook his head. ‘Francesco’s on today. You know he won’t mind.’

Francesco was the bartender responsible for making Pim’s wicked highballs whenever she needed a sensory-depriving nightcap to help her sleep. That worked in my favour.

‘Perfect! Thanks, Tony!’ I said, pulling out my phone as I slipped inside the world-famous bar. The space was dimly lit, cosy even when empty, and the mirrored walls reflected the quiet grandeur of it all. The door was unlocked, and I entered, spotting Francesco at once.

‘Tony gave me the heads-up,’ he said from behind the bar, motioning to the walkie-talkie in his apron. ‘Go ahead and take your phone call.’

I grinned. ‘You’re a gem.’

Settling in, I took a seat near the door, to avoid disrupting Francesco’s set-up for the day. Finding my phone under my many wintry layers, I pulled up FaceTime and tapped on Denise’s name.

It rang twice before Bob’s face appeared on the screen.

‘Evie, my girl!’ he bellowed, his voice booming through the bar.

‘Bob! I was calling Denise – I didn’t expect you to pick up?’

‘She’s currently lying under the Christmas tree.’

He was so matter-of-fact it threw me off my train of thought.

‘Lying under it?’

He nodded, completely unfazed. ‘She wanted to get to the radiator but reckoned the tree was too heavy to move, so she crawled under it instead.’

‘Isn’t that going to make the clothes more crumpled?’

Bob’s mouth opened, ready to agree, but Denise’s slightly strained voice rang out in the background. ‘It’ll be fine!’

Bob rolled his eyes. ‘What’s up, love? What can we do for you?’

I hesitated, my thumb tracing the edge of my phone.

‘How’s Megan?’

Bob’s expression softened. ‘She’s all right. She’s back in London now.’

That made me pause. ‘Oh!’ I’d assumed she’d stay in Kent through Christmas, maybe even to avoid me. But now she was back in the city? Did that mean she’d decided to cut me off completely?

Bob must have seen the worry flash across my face, because he quickly added, ‘Don’t panic – she went back with Alex.’

I sat up straighter. ‘Wait. So… they’re back together?’ That didn’t seem to marry up with what Alex was saying to me on the phone.

‘Don’t ask me, love. I know nothing,’ Bob said, shaking his head cluelessly. Or at least, pretending to be clueless. He gave the distinct impression of a man trying to bury his head in the sand.

‘Okay, okay,’ Denise’s voice got louder with each word. ‘I’m done. Give it here.’

‘I was talking to Evie!’ Bob whined in mock protest.

‘Away with you. That tea won’t make itself.’ Denise smiled as she came into view, her cheeks puffy and red from exertion. ‘Hello, love.’