Love Me Till Christmas

The doorbell rang. Max barked. Damn! Jules could do without visitors. Come on, woman! It's probably that delivery arriving early. You'll open the door, and there will be nothing there but a cardboard box sitting forlornly on the doorstep. Her inner voice was probably right. And even if the delivery driver was waiting for a signature, he wasn't going to care about the red-faced woman who was scrawling her name on that mobile device they all had now. She dried her eyes and walked into the hall. But when she opened the front door, there was no parcel on the mat. Instead, a friendly face smiled at her.

'Lisa! I thought you weren't coming home until next week?'

'Nick's shoot finished on time, and I was itching to get back to London. Are you okay?' Lisa looked concerned.

'Sort of.' Jules ushered her in.

'That's a no then. Tell your Auntie Lisa all about it.'

'How long have you got?' Jules asked as she led Lisa into the kitchen.

'Nick's got a meeting, but he said he'd be back before six, and Pete's put off our songwriting session to next week, so the rest of the afternoon if it's that serious.'

'I've got to get ready for parents' evening. And there's no solution to this particular problem, so it won't take long. I've just been feeling sorry for myself, that's all. I'll put the kettle on.' Jules busied herself with making tea. 'Before we get on to my woes, why did you pop over? I assume you haven't got spy cameras to spot when I'm upset.'

'No, though Brad would happily have our entire house wired up. He's paranoid now that Nick's not living behind a ten-foot wall.'

'There hasn't been any trouble, has there?'

'No. But no one's realised he's living here permanently yet.'

'House hunting again then?'

'Possibly. But not before Christmas, which brings me on to why I'm here. I'm after a favour. Are you going to be around over the holidays to keep an eye on our house?'

'Sadly, yes. I'll be all on my own. Just me and this charming mutt.' She looked down at Max, who was sitting at her feet looking adoringly at her, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

Lisa leaned down to stroke him. 'Poor Max. He can't help looking like that.'

'I know. Only Martin could pick the ugliest dog in Battersea, then bugger off with his personal assistant. If I'm going to be looking for a new man, a more attractive dog would've been helpful. I can picture myself strolling up Primrose Hill with a Saluki, its blonde hair flowing in the wind. And men's heads are turning, thinking "Who is that beauty?" Then, wondering about the dog too,' she laughed.

'You might get the pity vote. I mean, look at those soulful eyes. Who could resist those?'

'Apparently, quite a lot of people. He was in the dogs home for three months before Martin picked him out. I'm sure that creased forehead, stubby nose and grey whiskers subconsciously reminded him of the view in the bathroom mirror every morning.'

'Martin's not that rough-looking.'

'You haven't seen him emerge from under a duvet naked and wrinkled from lying face down on the pillow all night.'

'No.' Lisa didn't look like she was enjoying visualising that.

'Not all of us get to sleep next to film stars.'

'Nick doesn't look like a film star first thing in the morning either. Well, Godzilla may be.'

Max turned his attention to Lisa, presumably hoping that she might give him a biscuit from the plate that Jules had just put on the table.

'Have a seat,' Jules said before sitting down opposite Lisa. 'I do love Max. I'm just pissed off with Martin for finally giving in to the boys' demands for a dog when he knew he had no intention of living here for much longer. They'll be off on their gap year travels next autumn, leaving me as Max's sole carer.'

'Perhaps he thought Max would be a comfort to you when he had the balls to leave.'

'Don't talk about Martin's balls. I have a horrible feeling that he'd still be here now if the contents of those beauties hadn't got that floosie Tamara with child.' She looked down at Max. 'At least you're an improvement on Martin. Your breath doesn't reek of stale coffee, and you don't snore as loudly.'

Max took that as a cue to jump onto the bench to sit next to her. He fixed his gaze on the plate.

'He's got better table manners, too. Martin would've helped himself to a couple of biscuits already. At least you wait. Good boy.' Jules passed Max a biscuit. He gently took it in his mouth and jumped to the floor, where he proceeded to chew it, dropping more crumbs on the floor than he managed to eat.

'Why is he such a messy eater?' Lisa asked.

'Because he's only got three teeth left. And that dodgy tongue doesn't help. It's amazing he gets any food to go in the right direction at all. Anyway, to get back to your initial question, what do you need me to do over Christmas?'

'Nick's whisking us all off to a mansion in the Cotswolds for the week, so if you could keep an eye on Number 39 while we're away, that would be fabulous. And water the plants a couple of times. I'll put them all in the kitchen so you don't have to traipse around the entire house with a watering can.'

'I can manage that. It will probably be the highlight of my day!'

'No plans then?'

'Nope. The boys have accepted Martin's invitation to go skiing with him and his mistress.'

'For the whole of Christmas?' Lisa sounded horrified.

'And New Year. Tamara's parents own a lodge in St Moritz, so they've invited our beloved sons to join them for the entire school holidays. I won't get to see Tom and Will at all.'

'And the boys are alright with that?'

'They're a chip off the old block, aren't they? If I hadn't pushed them out of my own vagina, I might have believed Martin had had them cloned. No one's considered my feelings at all.'