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“You’ll never get off your back if he uses all these,” Tara said.
“Oh yes, I will. I’ll be on top for some.”
The doorbell rang, and Kati ran, hoping Andrew had come back early to surprise her. Skidding to a stop on the throw rug inside the door, she was hesitant to open it. If it were Andrew, her surprise would be spoilt. Since it was obvious to whomever it was that someone was home with all the lights on, she answered.
“Hello,” a man in a Santa Claus suit said. “I’m looking for Andrew.”
Kati laughed. “You must have heard he’s been a good boy and come to bring him a gift.”
The guy had a nice chuckle. “I’m Bob, a friend of his.”
Santa Claus Bob. I should thank him for the handcuffs. She bit back a grin.
“Sorry, but I didn’t think about how I was dressed.” His face was red from either cold or embarrassment. “I’m the jolly old fellow at Bright’s Department Store. It seems I’ve seen you before.”
“Kati. I work in cosmetics. Glad to meet you, Bob.”
“I’ve heard about you,” he said.
She expected him to go ‘Ho, ho, ho’. But he just grinned.
“Likewise. Andrew is in Chicago. But do come in and have something to drink. My friend Tara and I are having Chablis.”
Bob helped with the favours while imbibing with them and laughing a lot. Kati confessed what she was up to and made him promise not to tell. He and Tara really hit it off, and he asked her if she’d like to go out the next night. She had to go to work at eleven and he had to work until nine, but she invited him over to her place. Good. Now Kati didn’t need to feel so guilty about staying with Andrew. And with luck, the two would get together on Christmas Eve when Tara was off, or spend the day together before her shift began on the night of the 25th.
* * * *
Kati had set the goose to soaking in brine in a big pot she found in Andrew’s kitchen. She’d gagged while taking out the entrails but made it through the process. Tomorrow, she’d stuff fruit inside its cavity and do the other things directed in the recipe.
Br
ussels sprouts in butter sauce lay in the freezer alongside mashed potatoes. She’d bought jellied cranberry sauce in a can and ready-to-bake rolls. Following Tara’s advice, she’d taken the easy way except for the goose and Christmas Pudding. She’d have preferred to make all the dishes herself so they’d be authentic, but Tara insisted she not get in over her head. And Kati admitted she’d been right.
She lined up the twenty-one ingredients for the dessert on the kitchen counter and sighed. It had been tough figuring out where to find beef suet. And stoned raisins? Did that mean they were drunk? She’d been too embarrassed to ask at the supermarket. Brandy went into the recipe anyway, so let the raisins soak that up. She’d bought regular ones. Same with Barbados sugar. What in the hell did it matter where sugar came from? She should have done her grocery shopping on the internet.
Andrew had phoned her every night, and he was finishing work this morning and coming in on an afternoon flight. He’d be home by suppertime. “I can’t wait to see you, Kati,” he’d said, and she’d hugged those words to her heart.
She had mulled wine and biscuits ready for his arrival. And she’d ordered those oysters on the half shell again. Whether or not they were an aphrodisiac when digested, their slippery feel as they slid over the tongue and down the throat was suggestive. Kati smiled at the thought of Andrew’s cock coasting across her tongue.
They were dining light tonight because she still had so much to prepare. Anyway, food wasn’t foremost on the late evening menu. They had better things to think about and do.
Dinner was eaten midday on Christmas in England, so Kati had to prepare everything possible in advance in order to have the meal ready on time. Thank heaven, Christmas Pudding could be made ahead. That would be one thing out of the way. Looking at the recipe again, she thought it might take half the night to fix. She’d never dreamed any one dish could consist of so many ingredients.
Every time they’d talked, Andrew had said he missed her, and she loved hearing it. She’d missed him, too, but the joy of executing his surprise kept her busy and in good spirits. She’d bought him a few small gifts—a sweater the colour of his eyes, a wool scarf and a Father Christmas figurine—but the dinner and decorations would be his main present.
She’d made a centrepiece with British crackers, holly and candles. Tomorrow, she’d put it out, set the table with her Spode and put crackers at each setting. She’d bought a green wreath and tied some to it. And she’d bought mistletoe with red berries to grace every doorway. They could kiss their way to bed. With all that smooching, they’d be lucky to make it all the way without lying down for a quickie on the way. They were so damned hot for each other.
In a moment of frivolity, she’d replaced the bulbs in all the lamps with red ones and draped silver tinsel from the chandeliers and hung stockings on the fireplace. Would he be surprised when he walked in!
Kati wiped the perspiration from her face. She’d put everything in the Christmas Pudding, but it didn’t look like it was the right consistency. Had she left out something or put in too much of another item? By the time she’d mixed it all together, she couldn’t tell. Currants, sultanas, raisins, sugar, beef suet, breadcrumbs, ground almonds, blanched almonds, mixed candied peel, chopped apple, flour, lemon and lime zest, stout, eggs, ground mixed spice, nutmeg, cinnamon, salt, brandy. And a partridge in a pear tree. It was an absolutely dizzying mix.
Now, she was supposed to add brandy. She took a little sip before adding the two tablespoonfuls. Mmm. Not bad. It tasted much better than the stout did. Although both were a teeny-weeny bit strong.
‘Pour the mixture into a greased, three-and-a-half pint pudding basin and cover with a double layer of greased, greaseproof paper or aluminium foil—pleated in the middle to allow for expansion.’
Ohmigod. What is a pudding basin? She must have missed that detail before, concentrating only on the ingredients. Those for washing were the only ones she was familiar with.
She greased a big piece of foil. What the hell. She took another slug of brandy which tasted even better than the first. Or maybe her tongue was a little bit numb. She tried another slug. Hmm.
