I laughed, thinking she was joking. Then I realized she was not joking in the slightest. ‘No way,’ I said. ‘Uh-uh.’
‘Oh go on, it’ll be brilliant. Think how much Ed will love it. Hell-o Miss December!’
I giggled. ‘It would be quite funny,’ I agreed, imagining Ed’s face when he reached that page. ‘And actually . . .’ I paused, remembering a certain conversation we’d had one memorable night in particular. ‘The very first time we got together, we . . . Well, if I do this, it’ll be a bit of a private joke, put it like that. I think he’ll get the reference.’
‘Shall I take that as a yes, then? Good for you, Evie. Get your kit off and let’s do this. He’ll be the happiest man alive on Christmas Day.’
‘I must be mad,’ I said, ‘but what the hell. You’re on.’
Giggling like idiots, we assembled my Miss December pose. In homage to the night Ed and I first kissed (and the rest, cough cough), for the purposes of the photo, I was going to be starkers apart from a chef’s apron, a cheeky smile and a string of red tinsel around my neck. Classy or what? ‘Oh, and these,’ Amber said, reappearing from where she’d been rummaging around upstairs. She shoved a pair of reindeer antlers on top of my head and stood back, giving me a critical once-over. ‘Perfect,’ she pronounced, grinning.
I stood in front of the café counter, under the gold and red ‘Merry Christmas’ banner, pouting, winking and blowing kisses as Amber snapped a series of photos.
‘These are awesome,’ Amber said. ‘Honey, you’re a natural. If you ever fall on hard times, I’m sure there’s a soft-porn film with your name on it somewhere.’
I threw a wooden spoon at her. ‘Oh, shut up. Are we done?’
‘We are totally done. Brilliant. Come and have a look and choose which one you like best.’
Not all the photos were amazing – I looked self-conscious and awkward in the first bunch, and the kiss-blowing ones weren’t exactly the sexbomb Marilyn Monroe look I’d intended, more a case of fish lips and squinting. The next few had a side-boob problem that I did not want in print, thank you very much. Just as I was starting to have my doubts about the whole idea (Kate Moss had nothing to worry about), Amber flicked to the next image: one of me laughing out loud, mouth open, nose wrinkled, eyes sparkly. Not a sexbomb, not a supermodel, just me having a laugh.
‘This one,’ we both said at once.
Decision made, we found a digital print website, uploaded all twelve photos and chose the style of calendar. According to the website, today was the last day that they were accepting Christmas orders so I paid five pounds extra for the express delivery, just to be on the safe side. Then we were home and dry, job done.
‘High five,’ I said as the confirmation email popped up. ‘Thank you so much. Couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Dude, you are totally welcome,’ Amber replied. ‘And guess what, I haven’t thought about David all day. I haven’t even checked my phone for texts. Do you think that means I’m cured?’
‘Almost definitely,’ I told her, although I knew neither of us believed it. I went to get dressed again, feeling very cheerful. My present for Ed was sorted at last – and what was more, I was certain that he would love it. Now all I needed to do was wave goodbye to our guests, then put my feet up and really enjoy our perfect romantic Christmas. No problem.
Chapter Six
Ed and Jake came back from their surfing trip late in the afternoon, just as Amber was sliding a casserole dish of boeuf bourguignon into the oven. It was dark outside and the café was lit by the fairy lights on the tree, and both men sniffed appreciatively as they walked in.
‘And what have you two been up to today?’ Ed asked, bending his head to kiss me, his face cold and his hair still smelling faintly of the sea. ‘Apart from cooking something that smells fantastic, that is.’
Amber and I exchanged a look. ‘Would you believe me if I said stripping off for a naked session in the café?’ she teased, arching an eyebrow.
‘I’d very much like to believe that, yes,’ Jake said, his eyes lighting up at once. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘A s if we’d do something like that.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Amber said, winking. ‘Of course we wouldn’t.’
Ed looked quizzically at me and I had to shrug and feign ignorance, all the while trying my hardest not to laugh. If only he knew. ‘Tomorrow,’ I said, changing the subject, ‘we really must get on with the recipe book, by the way, Ed. I know we’re too late to get it printed up for Christmas now, but it can be a happy new year present instead, if we finish it in the next few days. What do you think?’