A Risky Business #SYTYCW15 #CarinaPress

Chapter Eighteen

It's nearly Christmas at Kate's – and there's cause for celebration ...

*Kate*

After just one more round of nagging from Kim, I booked myself an appointment to see the doctor. In fact, I had no choice really as she stood over me while I made the call and even wrote down the date, time and name of the doctor as I confirmed the details back to the receptionist.

"So that's 2.30pm on Monday 10th with Doctor Golding. That's great, thank you very much."

She was obviously going to make sure that I attended that appointment come hell or high water.

I put the phone down.

"Happy now?" I asked, ripping off the top sheet of the memo pad that Kim had written the details on and waving it at her.

"Yes," she said. "So that's next Monday?"

"Next Monday," I told her. "That was the soonest slot that they had available."

"Okay," she said. "Not long to wait then."

"No," I agreed. "Not long."

"Not long 'til what?" Damien came crashing through the front door, balancing a pile of files and folders, with his phone teetering precariously on top. "Who's going where, when, why? Is it exciting?"

I rescued his phone and took his keys from the keyhole where he had abandoned them. Left hanging on the outside of the front door may I add. Not very security conscious, considering!

"Nothing exciting," I told him, giving Kim a warning glance. "Just an appointment for next week. Girls stuff," I added. That should do it.

"Girls stuff?" he repeated. "Bloody hell, what's that meant to mean? No-one tells me anything anymore."

"Oh well, never mind," I said, reaching over to pinch his cheek playfully. "You'll get over it. Now, what are you doing home so early, and what's all that for?" I pointed at the small rainforest of paperwork that he brought home.

"This?" he winked, at Kim over my shoulder. "This paperwork ... and the exciting news that I came home early to share with you? Oh, you want to know about that do you? Well, I'm sorry, but I think you'll find that it's boys stuff ..."

"What is?" Kim and I chorused, but he was already disappearing off into the kitchen.

We scrambled to follow him, me tucking the piece of paper with the details of the doctors appointment safely away in the back pocket of my jeans.

He was sniffing the air again.

"Wow, that smells great. What do we have today?"

"Christmas cake!!!" Kim shouted at him, suddenly beside herself with excitement.

Damien beamed, seemingly all this festive cheer was contagious. But then his face fell.

"But I suppose we can't eat that today?"

"No you bloody can't, and anyway it's still got to be marzipanned, and iced," I scolded.

"And decorated!" added Kim.

"And decorated," I confirmed. "But ... we also have home-made sausage rolls."

"I love sausage rolls," he said, "and I'm starving!"

Kim and I looked at each other.

"How much do you love sausage rolls?" I asked him.

"Quite a lot," he replied, starting to look a bit concerned. "Why?"