Cosy Christmas ✓

7 / baby it's cold outside

It was weird not to be heading straight out to see Posy after waking up and walking Duke, but on Christmas Eve, Connor was still at home at half past one with a cup of tea balanced on the arm of the sofa and his dog curled up by his side. Posy's friend had driven over to take her out for a drink in Farnleigh that morning, relieving him of his duties for the day, but he didn't feel all that relieved. It was wrong to have boiled the kettle in his own house, the second mug belonging to his sister rather than Posy, and he let out the sigh at the realisation that not only had she grown on him but she had spread her roots.

"Why so mopey?" Cass asked, poking her head round the door from the kitchen with a spatula in her hand. She had been working in there for a good forty-five minutes, preparing a chicken for lunch, which wasn't due to take place until three o'clock. "Have you forgotten what you used to do with your free time?" With a laugh, she shook her head, and returned to the kitchen, from where she called, "You could give me a hand."

Connor got to his feet, mug in his hand, and followed his sister through to the mess she had made in the room next door. The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it, bags and bowls and various foods scattered on every surface as she worked on making her version of a roast dinner, which seemed to consist mostly of vegetables and a chicken. "What needs doing?" he asked, watching as she tried to chop several carrots at once with a knife that wasn't quite big enough.

"I need some potatoes," she said, looking over her shoulder as she continued to cut, almost slicing off her finger. "I was going to roast some, and make mash too, so if you could grab them for me."

He pulled open the vegetable drawer in the cupboard, rifling through some questionable courgettes and old mushrooms to come up empty handed. "No potatoes here," he said. "Did you buy some?"

Cass frowned. She had been for a big shop the day before, buying everything for a decent dinner the day before Christmas, but one thing seemed to have missed the list. "I thought I did," she said. "Are there none in there?"

He shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. "Nope."

"Shit. Can you go and get some?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "On Christmas Eve? Cass, nowhere round here is open today. Don't we have any of those cook from frozen roasts in the freezer?"

She pulled a face of pure horror. "Christ, Con, what kind of heathen do you take me for? Frozen roast potatoes? No, we don't have any, and if we did then I wouldn't use them. Can you please just drive to the supermarket and get some? It's open today."

He grimaced, wracking his brains for any excuse he could fathom. The last thing he wanted to do was get in a car on Christmas Eve, especially when ever since midnight, the temperatures had slid towards freezing and eventually dipped below. The roads were treacherous, with every weather channel spreading the warning of black ice. "I'm supposed to go and get Posy at two thirty," he said.

"That's in an hour. It takes fifteen minutes to drive there; five minutes inside; fifteen minutes back. That makes, like, thirty-five minutes. Not sixty." She gave him a face of desperation. "Please, Con. I know you hate Christmas Eve and I know you hate driving and I know that you would rather do anything else than have a Christmassy lunch and go to a carol service but I need you to do this one thing for me, ok?"

"Ok," he said, slowly filling his lungs and letting the breath out in a long sigh. "Fine."

Cass instantly grinned at him and grabbed a floret of broccoli, slicing into the stalk. "Cheers. Thanks, Con. I promise I'll fill up the car next time I go out, and I will be lovely to your girlfriend."