A Desirable Residence - By Madeleine Wickham Page 0,54

letters at Piers and Alice, so that the pieces scattered all over the floor.

‘We’ve got stuff for mulled wine,’ said Piers. ‘And I’m going to light the fire.’ He dropped a kiss on Ginny’s shiny blond head. ‘Do you know how to make mulled wine? We bought cloves and stuff.’ Ginny looked up at Piers, and gave him a penitent smile.

‘That sounds lovely. I could do with some mulled wine. And I’m sorry, Alice, I haven’t even said hello to you yet. How are you?’

‘Alice helped me buy the cloves,’ said Piers.

‘And now she can help me make the mulled wine,’ said Duncan quickly. ‘I am the world’s leading expert on mulling, as you might be aware.’

‘And the world’s worst fire-maker,’ added Piers. ‘We know.’

Half an hour later, they resumed the game of Scrabble in front of the beginnings of a fire, armed with glasses of steaming, aromatic mulled wine.

‘Bloody hell!’ said Piers, as he took a sip. ‘What’s in this?’

‘About three bottles of brandy,’ giggled Alice. She and Duncan had already had several glasses, and she could feel herself getting drunk.

‘My go,’ said Duncan. He stared at the Scrabble board. ‘Oh bugger. I can’t do anything.’ He paused, scratched his head and took a few sips from his glass.

‘Is there such a word as X-Y-N-E?’ he said eventually. ‘Xyne. I’m sure it was in Shakespeare.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Ginny. She sat comfortably with her back against a chair, tilting her face to the glow of the flames. Piers’s fingers were linked with hers, and with every sip of mulled wine she could feel herself relaxing. ‘I think you’ve just made it up.’

‘Xyne,’ said Duncan musingly. ‘Xyne. Isn’t it a form of meditation? Xyne karma.’

‘Never heard of it,’ said Piers.

‘Philistine,’ retorted Duncan. He sighed hugely. ‘Oh well, I can’t go then.’

‘Of course you can,’ said Ginny. ‘What about Yen?’

‘Oh yes, I suppose that would do,’ said Duncan brightly. He looked at his pieces and put them down. ‘But I wanted to use my X. I’m sure Xyne’s a word. It’s very unfair.’ He looked severely at Alice. ‘What are you sniggering at?’

‘My go,’ said Ginny. She stared at her letters and took several sips of mulled wine. Then she giggled. ‘I’ve got one.’

‘D-I-C-K,’ read Duncan as she put the letters down. ‘Dick. You can’t have that. It’s a name.’

‘No it’s not!’ retorted Ginny. ‘It’s a thing.’ She gave a snort of laughter.

‘Is it?’ Duncan looked about with raised eyebrows. ‘Is it? Could you tell us what it is, please? I’ve never heard of it. And neither has Alice. Have you, Alice?’ He winked at Alice, who was still shaking with giggles. Ginny ignored him.

‘Piers, it’s your go.’

‘No, let Alice go first.’

Alice felt blissful. She was all warm and cosy and drunk, and surrounded by the beautifulest, coolest, funniest people she’d ever met. She controlled her giggles and stared at her row of letters. If only she could think of something funny to put. But as she gazed, her mind went blank. She couldn’t see a single word.

‘Let me have a look,’ said Duncan helpfully. He leaned over, and whistled. ‘Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. Crap-letter alert.’

‘Is there really nothing?’ said Ginny.

‘Completely, absolutely noth . . . Wait!’ Duncan’s voice rose to a squeal. ‘I’ve seen something.’ Slowly and ceremonially, he placed each of Alice’s letters down on the board in a row. Ginny read them out as they went down.

‘J-E-C-C-S – Duncan, is this really a word? – Q-B. Duncan!’

‘Jeccsqb,’ said Duncan confidently. ‘Come on, you’re not going to tell me you don’t know that one.’ He beamed at Alice, whose laughter was now uncontrollable. Her stomach hurt; she couldn’t speak. ‘Well done! You get a fifty-point bonus for using up all your letters. And another glass of mulled wine.’

Alice’s elated mood lasted all the way home. She bounded up the stairs to the flat, feeling euphoric and witty. She had never laughed so much in her life; even now, remembering some of the things Duncan had said made her erupt into a half-giggle. She burst into the sitting-room, a huge grin on her face, to find her parents watching television.

‘I’ve left some supper for you in the oven,’ said Liz. ‘Vegetable lasagne.’

‘Thanks,’ said Alice. Suddenly she felt very hungry. Piers and Ginny and Duncan often seemed to just drink, without having any food, and by the time she got home she was always ravenous.

She came back into the sitting-room and sat down, balancing her plate on her