“She’s a fan!” he said, genuinely surprised. “Come on, you know I can’t disappoint my public. But I want to be my real self with you.”

There was no doubt she was tempted. He looked so handsome in the light from the old-fashioned street lanterns, wolfish, as the snowflakes settled in his hair and on his expensive coat; a handsome man, when she hadn’t as much as kissed anyone in months . . .

He smiled at her, and for the first time she thought, That’s your real smile. He didn’t show all his teeth, just the incisors, so it was almost more of a wolfish snarl. And yet far more attractive than his real one.

“Isn’t this the point where you say, ‘Everything will be all right, I promise’?”

“Oh no, fuck that,” he said, suddenly sliding a cold hand around her waist. She gasped. “Everything will be very, very bad. Very.”

He leaned forward and she smelled his expensive aftershave and, underneath it, something more raw. Suddenly, despite herself, she felt a tug of want—a tug of wanting to throw all her cares to the wind. She had been so good, working so hard, getting on with Sofia, trying so hard . . . Couldn’t she just have this?

“Carmen?” Sofia’s voice came from inside the house.

Carmen and Blair looked at each other, caught on the doorstep.

“Shut the door—it’s freezing!”

Blair looked at her meaningfully. “Come on, then.”

“Carmen!”

Carmen blinked. The taxi he’d booked turned into the silent street, its light glowing a warm yellow. A black cab, a hotel room . . . She pushed herself unconsciously a little closer against him. His hand slid farther around her waist, possessively, confidently, and she tilted her head slowly upward, her lips getting closer and closer toward his, when—

SLAP!

The huge mound of snow went straight down their backs, down the back of her thin jumper, all over her hair. It was freezing, wet, and stung her.

“What?!”

And there was only the sound of giggling on the wind. Carmen looked up. To her surprise, Phoebe’s window was open and she and Jack could just be glimpsed, scraping snow off the window ledge.

“You were kissing!” shouted Phoebe.

“That’s disgusting!”

“We were not!” said Carmen, shocked but finding it funny too.

“Bloody brats,” said Blair, straightening up. “This is cashmere!”

“Um, so, good night,” said Carmen, the cold snow bringing her back to reality. “Go to bed, you monkeys, or no more Muppets!”

The giggling immediately ceased and the window slammed down.

He looked at her, confused. “You’re not coming? Seriously?”

“Am I getting into a cab with a man they’ve never met before in front of my tiny nieces and nephew?” said Carmen. “No.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Blair. He turned and headed for the cab.

“Bye then,” said Carmen.

She only got a grunt in return.