Let It Snow. Sue Moorcroft

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Let It Snow - Sue  Moorcroft


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phone.

      It was just after lunch on Friday and Lily was at her small workstation, pleasurably knee deep in plans for the Switzerland trip, a big mug of coffee at her elbow and Paramore providing a soundtrack to work to.

      She hadn’t heard from her sister since the argument in the car park of The Three Fishes on Monday. Although Lily hated the way things were over her inconvenient desire to know people with whom she shared DNA she’d made no attempt to communicate. Maybe it was guilt … or maybe it was hurt.

      She made her tone light and neutral. ‘As it happens, I have this evening off.’

      ‘Good!’ Zinnia sounded delighted. ‘You know that new club in Bettsbrough – the Ballarat? I know someone working in promotions who’s offered me tickets to the opening shindig tonight. A crowd on opening night will get pictures on all the online nightlife sites. The club’s super-posh and we probably won’t be able to afford to get in once it gets underway.’

      Lily hesitated. ‘Don’t you want to take George?’

      ‘No, I want to take you,’ Zinnia coaxed. ‘Let’s have a fab sisterly evening. I’m sorry for how I’ve been lately. I promise not to go on about family – any family – for the whole evening. As Bettsbrough’s so near your place, I thought I could stay over,’ she went on. ‘We can have a meal at The Three Fishes and then go on to Ballarat for free cocktails. We’ll take a taxi.’

      ‘Why’s it called the Ballarat?’ Lily played for time, wondering whether Zinnia intended to keep to the letter of her declaration about family or would find a way to work on Lily to leave the village anyway.

      ‘It’s the place in Australia the woman who owns it comes from,’ Zinnia said impatiently. ‘Please say yes, Lily. My treat.’

      She said the last so plaintively that Lily’s heart melted. ‘OK,’ she agreed, opting to take the handsome offer at face value: a chance for them to get back on better terms. ‘It sounds fun.’

      Zinnia whooped gleefully. ‘We’ll get really glammed up. What time shall I get to yours?’

      After they’d made arrangements Lily spent the rest of the afternoon working on the Switzerland trip, planning the minibus road route through England and France, researching the best motels for the overnight stop in each direction, formulating an estimate of costs for Eddie, Warwick and Alfie to discuss with their parents. The Middletones needed to support themselves so far as eating and drinking was concerned and Switzerland wasn’t cheap, even if travel and accommodation expenses were being picked up by British Country Foods. Because Acting Instrumental students were making up part of the contingent, the college was hiring the twelve-seater minibus to them at cost – though the insurance doubled that.

      In just over two weeks they’d be on their way! Lily felt a ball of excitement spin in her stomach as she happily conjured up visions of Christmas markets and processions and snow. Hopefully snow. She looked at the weather app on her phone. Schützenberg was about a thousand metres above sea level but there was no snow yet. In her imagination Swiss winters always meant glorious landscapes of thick, glistening snow looking so much like scenes from advent calendars that the shutters on chalets would pop open to reveal chocolates inside.

      She became so buried in her project that she barely left enough time to shower and had to pause in drying her hair to let Zinnia in when she knocked at the French doors. Wearing a big smile and carrying an overnight bag, Zinnia gave Lily a bear hug. ‘This is great! I’m so glad you agreed to come. Do you want me to finish your hair?’

      As Zinnia was obviously determined to embrace their sisterly love, Lily relaxed and let her wield the hairdryer, lifting her voice over its drone to update her on the Switzerland plans. Then they put on their make-up, making golf-ball eyes into the mirror while applying eyeliner and mascara. They rarely went clubbing together and it took Lily back to when they were teens living at home with Roma and Patsie. She enjoyed the fuzzy feeling it gave her.

      Zinnia unzipped her bag and shook out a fuchsia pink glittery asymmetrical sheath dress, boasting one sleeve and a mid-thigh hemline. ‘Ta dah!’

      ‘Wow. You meant it when you said “glammed up”.’ Lily caught the sleeve and let the sinuous, slightly scratchy material slither through her fingers.

      ‘So what have you got?’ demanded Zinnia, throwing open Lily’s wardrobe without ceremony. ‘How about this? This would look amazing.’

      Seeing that Zinnia was brandishing a short, sequinned topaz-blue number, Lily clutched her heart and laughed. ‘I haven’t worn it since Bar Barcelona party nights. It’s short.’

      ‘Perfect for tonight.’ Zinnia laid the shimmering garment on the bed. ‘It’s a par-tay.’

      As there was nothing else in her wardrobe anywhere near as glam as Zinnia’s slinky pink outfit, Lily thought she may as well give the blue dress a try and let Zinnia zip her into it. It clung to every curve under the heavy, shining sequins. She slipped her feet into black shoes. ‘Erm,’ she said doubtfully, gazing in the mirror at what seemed to be the entire length of her legs on show. She had to admit, though, that the dress was flattering. ‘It feels really, really short.’

      Zinnia emerged from wriggling into her own dress. It wasn’t as short as Lily’s but hugged her like a second skin. ‘You look gorgeous,’ she breathed. ‘You have to wear it. Opening night at a posh club. Get us!’ Before Lily could decide to try another outfit, Zinnia snatched up a tiny cross-body evening bag just big enough for a phone and a couple of credit cards and swung Lily around. ‘Come on, let’s go before they stop serving food at The Three Fishes. Do you think Carola might give us a lift down to the pub to save us staggering about in these heels?’

      Carola took the request as an opportunity to visit the pub herself as she wasn’t seeing Owen that night, and soon the three of them were standing at the bar with glasses of wine. Carola was drawn off into a conversation with Alexia, a woman Lily knew to be connected to the village coffee shop, the Angel Community Café, where Carola worked. Vita and Isaac were serving behind the bar.

      Although she felt pretty conspicuous at being dressed for a club in the work-day surroundings of The Three Fishes, Lily had to take off her coat and sling it over a bar stool or risk cooking in the warm pub interior. Isaac’s eyebrows vanished into his hair and he paused in refilling the ice bucket on the bar. ‘Glad rags tonight,’ he observed.

      Flushing, she explained about the tickets to the new, upscale nightclub and wanting a meal first. ‘If you have any tables,’ she added, glancing into the dining area.

      ‘No prob if you can wait a few minutes. My sister’s joining the staff tonight and she’s out the back doing the formalities with Tina. I’ll get her to clear tables as soon as they come out.’

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