A Christmas Tail: A heart-warming Christmas romance. Cressida McLaughlin

without coats, Cat’s arms goose-pimpling in protest.

      Cat raised her hand to knock and the door swung inwards. ‘Oh, Cat!’ Jessica squealed. ‘And Cat’s friends! So glad you could make it. Please come in.’ Cat heard Polly gasp, and silently agreed that Jessica was a gasp-worthy sight. She was wearing a short black Stella McCartney cutout halterneck dress, with nude side panels that accentuated her curves. She had thick silver bangles on both arms, sky-high black heels and enough smoky eye make-up to reproduce a Lowry painting. Cat thought Jessica was probably in her mid-thirties, a woman whose life was dedicated to food, and yet she looked as though she was about to steal the show at a red-carpet event. ‘Cat,’ Jessica said, ‘you don’t know how much I appreciate you coming – all of you. Come and join in the fun!’

      ‘This is Polly, and this is Joe.’ Jessica greeted them enthusiastically, drawing them into perfumed hugs, kissing Joe’s cheeks three times. They stepped over the threshold into the wide hallway and were approached by a waiter with a tray of full champagne flutes.

      Cat took one, looked at the figures moving, chatting and laughing, and felt fear close around her. What did she think she was doing? Nobody would care that she was a dog walker – nobody would care what her name was. She was not a high-flyer in Fairhaven, or even Fairview. She’d only been here a few months, spending her days getting muddy and walking round the park. She took a sip of champagne, then another, as she, Polly and Joe stepped amongst the throngs of people. She reached out to take Joe’s elbow, but Jessica swooped in, a long, bare arm around his shoulder, and dragged him off in the opposite direction.

      ‘Ohmygosh,’ Polly said, ‘this is incredible. I knew she was famous, and sociable, but this is crazy-glamorous. I’m not sure my Oasis number cuts it.’

      ‘You look beautiful,’ Cat assured her. ‘But it’s pretty frightening, isn’t it?’ She did a full, slow turn, and her eyes came to rest on a sofa, just visible through a doorway. ‘Elsie!’ She waved, took Polly’s hand and strode across the room. Her friend was already holding court, soaking up the local gossip from those around her.

      ‘Hello, ladies,’ Elsie said, raising her glass to them. ‘I’ve been getting acquainted with your chums.’

      Cat dropped to her knees. Valentino was sitting next to Elsie, Coco and Dior taking up the other cushions, their front paws on the arms of the sofa, their curiosity clear. Cat stroked them. Dior nuzzled his nose into Cat’s neck and Coco, his ear folded down like a jaunty fedora, let out a delighted bark.

      ‘They clearly love you,’ Elsie said.

      ‘They’re so beautiful.’ Polly lifted Dior up, cuddling the Westie against her.

      ‘For once, Cat,’ Elsie chided, ‘be careful of your dress. It’s exquisite, and wouldn’t be enhanced by dog hairs, or fewer beautiful beads.’

      ‘No,’ Cat sighed. She kissed the top of Valentino’s head and stood up. ‘I’m going to get another drink. Does anyone want one?’ Elsie and Polly nodded and Cat sought out one of the waistcoat-clad waiters. She spotted Joe across the room, talking to a woman wearing a leopard-print dress. She was touching him constantly, his arm, his shoulder, but Joe looked relaxed, laughing at what she was saying, one hand in his pocket. Cat felt a shiver of surprise and resisted the urge to interrupt them. How had he managed to do that? He was a hermit, a wallower by his own admission, though it was true that, this evening, he looked every inch the eligible bachelor.

      Cat turned to the waiter. ‘Could I take three of these for my friends, please?’

      ‘Of course.’

      Cat carefully lifted the glasses, balancing them in her fingers.

      ‘Not that bad a party, is it?’

      ‘What, I – no, they’re – oh, hello.’ She grinned, because it was the only thing that her brain could manage when faced with Mark, stylish and dangerous-looking in a Tom Ford black suit and black shirt, his dark hair impossibly shiny.

      ‘Great dress.’

      ‘Th-thank you,’ she managed. ‘I’ll just take these…’ Suddenly Polly was alongside her, prising two of the glasses out of her hands. Cat gave Polly a look and tried to tilt her head imperceptibly towards Mark. Polly returned her look, knowingly, and turned to introduce herself.

      ‘Hello, I’m Polly. You must be Mark.’

      ‘Why must I?’

      Polly did a goldfish impression. ‘S-sorry?’

      ‘How do you know I’m Mark? I haven’t met you before, have I?’

      Polly turned her goldfish from Mark to Cat and back again.

      Cat closed her eyes. ‘I may have mentioned the squirrel incident to Polly. Polly, meet Mark. Mark, this is Polly – friend and housemate, and the other half of Pooch Promenade.’

      ‘Though I haven’t really done anything yet,’ Polly added.

      ‘Lovely to meet you,’ he said. ‘I’m flattered that Cat described me well enough for you to recognize me.’

      ‘I told her you were tall, dark and overconfident.’

      Mark tipped his head on one side, considering, then nodded his approval. ‘Sounds about right. Good party so far?’

      ‘Seems so. Jessica doesn’t do things by halves, does she?’ Cat couldn’t help it. Every time she was faced with Mark, her resolve went out of the window. Her subconscious seemed intent on discovering his relationship status.

      ‘Seems not.’ He perused the room, then gave them a quick smile. ‘There’s someone I need to talk to – I’ll catch up with you later.’

      ‘Oooh,’ Polly said as soon as he was out of earshot, ‘he’s a bit of all right.’

      ‘Did you see how smug his chin was?’

      Polly laughed. ‘He’s not unsure of himself. But I can see why you were intrigued – it can’t be every day that you’re approached by a man who’s quite so…arresting. Why don’t you just ask him? Ask him if he’s with Jessica, or someone else, or if he’s single?’

      ‘But you’ve seen what he’s like – he wouldn’t let me live it down if I asked him out and he turned out to be with Jessica, or married, or gay.’

      ‘Not over something like that, surely. He must have emotions just like everyone else. And if he’s going to be that cruel, then he’s not worth it anyway.’

      ‘I just…’ Cat sighed. ‘I can’t do anything unless I know that he’s not with Jessica. She’s already a client, he lives five doors away – it would be too awkward. Like you said, Pol, I have to put my business first.’

      ‘If I were you I’d try and make room for him as well.’

      It was so unlike Polly that it shocked Cat into laughter. ‘You’re mad!’

      ‘I’m coming round to your way of thinking,’ she said. ‘Find out if he’s with Jessica and then, if not, go for it. Honestly, Cat, I can’t remember the last time I saw someone that good-looking in real life.’

      ‘He’s got a smug chin and razor-sharp observation. I don’t stand a chance.’

      ‘You’re underestimating yourself, Cat Palmer. I say throw caution to the wind – it’s a party after all.’

      Polly clinked her glass, and Cat felt as though she’d been given approval from the person whose opinion she cared about most. Sadly, she wasn’t sure she had the guts to go through with it. Maybe more champagne would help…

      The champagne kept coming, and the waiters circled with trays of tiny, exotic canapés: smoked salmon and horseradish, mushroom and halloumi, strawberry and balsamic vinegar. They were tasty, but not filling, and Cat had begun to feel light-headed. Polly was having an in-depth conversation with an older woman about horses, and as Cat knew nothing beyond