Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

Anthony reached for my hand with a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘It’s okay.’ I looked at his kind eyes and was unable to imagine him taking advantage of anyone’s trust. ‘Anyway, I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I feel so ashamed of myself for being taken in by him like that.’ I picked up my knife and fork again as Anthony removed his hand from mine. ‘Suffice to say, it is not a genius manoeuvre to string people along like that and leave them feeling duped.’

‘Is that how you feel? Duped?’

‘Pretty much. And used and stupid. When I finished with him he said he didn’t want to leave it like that and that he’d phone me and we’d talk everything through. And guess what? He didn’t phone. So, even though I said the words “It’s over”, I still feel like he had the last laugh by making me wait for a phone call that never came. It’s like he’s play-acting all the time. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a lie.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about him. This must be very boring for you.’

‘Not at all. It’s my fault, after all. I did ask you about him.’

‘That’s true.’ I smiled at him. ‘What about you then? How did your last relationship end?’

He looked startled for a moment. ‘Oh, err, with me leaving, I expect. That’s usually how they end.’

‘Were you living together?’

‘Oh God, no. Nothing like that. Like I said, I just like to move around.’

‘Does that have to mean leaving everything behind, though? Like you said before about me and Patrick, London isn’t the end of the earth, so if you’re staying in the UK, surely it’s easy enough to carry on seeing someone?’

‘Not if you work all the time, it isn’t.’

‘But didn’t we already discuss that your colleague John is happily married?’

He laughed. ‘I suppose I’ve never met anyone I wanted to keep in touch with like that.’

‘Does that mean you’ve never been in love?’

He cleared his throat and shrugged. ‘Define love.’

I gaped at him. ‘You’ve never been in love? How old are you? Thirty-five?’

He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Thereabouts.’

‘How have you managed to get to thirty-five and not fall in love? Are you a robot or something?’

Laughing, he put his knife and fork together on his plate before pushing it away. ‘I don’t want to fall in love. I generally leave before it gets to that stage. Love is time-consuming and painful.’

‘It’s also wonderful and exhilarating and joyful.’

‘Says the woman who’s had her heart broken.’

‘But I will love again.’

‘Wow! You said that like it’s a slogan or something. Have you had that printed on a T-shirt?’

I laughed. ‘Just think about all the women whose hearts you’ve broken in your time.’

‘Funny, I’m pretty certain I haven’t broken any hearts.’

‘I bet you have, Anthony.’

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Even if you don’t think you have, I bet you have. Just look at you. On top of being handsome and intelligent, you have beautiful manners and seem really kind too. Not that I know you, of course. But you seem lovely.’

‘Maybe that’s the problem. Women don’t want a lovely man with beautiful manners. Women want a bad boy in motorcycle leathers.’

‘Erm, not really.’ I looked up as the waitress came over to take our plates.

‘Do you want another drink?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t.’

‘Go on. I’ll walk you home.’

‘You don’t have to do that. It’s only up the road.’ I felt slightly flustered as I looked up at the waitress. ‘I’ll have another wine, please.’

Anthony ordered his drink and then turned back to me. ‘You kind of proved my point with Patrick.’

‘What point?’

‘About women preferring bad boys. You said you’d never met anyone you cared about before Patrick. He didn’t exactly treat you well, did he?’

‘He did when he was with me. And the boys I’d seen before weren’t super nice or particularly horrible, they were just immature. Patrick was older, so maybe I just prefer older men.’

‘He didn’t treat you well, Rachel. You never knew where you were with him. And he didn’t meet any of your friends and family. I’m pretty sure I’ve met at least some of the friends and family of every girl I’ve ever been in a relationship with. And I’m always upfront about the fact I’m not looking for anything long-term or serious.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. I’m not out to mislead anyone or make false promises.’ He scratched his face and looked at me. ‘I wouldn’t like to think I’d broken anybody’s heart. That’s just sad.’

I smiled at him. ‘You’re very sweet. And that’s exactly why I find it so hard to believe that nobody has fallen in love with you.’

He rolled his eyes, looking embarrassed. ‘Anyway, this is getting a bit deep. Let’s change the subject now.’

‘Okay. What do you want to talk about?’

‘I don’t know.’ He laughed. ‘Tell me about yourself.’

‘Me? We’ve talked enough about me. Why don’t you tell me about you? You’re the new boy in town.’

‘I’m really not that interesting.’

‘I disagree. I think you’re quite fascinating, actually. You have a very bizarre attitude to relationships and I’d like to know why.’

‘Ah, but we’re not talking about that any more.’

I leaned my elbows on the table and smiled at him. ‘Let’s start with your family. Are you an only child?’

He hesitated for a moment, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at me through narrowed eyes. ‘No. I have a younger brother.’

‘How much younger?’

‘Three years.’

‘Is he married?’

‘Yes. And he has two children.’

‘Aww, so you’re Uncle Anthony. Are they cute?’

‘Very.’

‘You like kids?’

‘I love kids.’

‘But you don’t want any yourself?’

‘No. Look, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?’

‘I’m just making conversation.’

He laughed and took a sip from his drink. ‘Yes, I love my niece and nephew but I don’t get to see them very much.’

‘You mentioned your mother before?’

‘Yes. I have a mother.’

‘Are your parents divorced?’

‘Look, I know what you’re doing, you know. You’re trying to find out about my relationship issues by asking about my family. You can save your pseudo-psychological analysis of me for another time, thank you. My family are great. Now, are you an only child?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought so.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re bossy and like to get your own way.’

I laughed in disbelief. ‘Oh, really? How would you even know that about me when we’ve only just met? Besides, is that what only children are meant to be like?’

‘I have no idea, I’m just winding you up.’ He sat back and laughed. ‘What do you like to do in your spare time?’

Shrugging, I ran my finger around the top of my wine glass. ‘I don’t really have that much free time with running the shop, and when I get home I’m tired.’

‘But you’re only twenty-six. You can’t just work and sleep.’

‘I don’t. I watch TV in between.’

‘Don’t you go out dancing?’

‘No. All my friends are settling down with their boyfriends and can’t afford it. Besides, how did you know I was twenty-six? I didn’t tell you, did I?’

‘I think your dad mentioned it.’

‘Oh.’ I frowned. That was odd. Why would my dad be telling the new tenant how old I was? But then I suppose he might have been talking about me running the shop. ‘Anyway, what’s this about dancing? Who says dancing these days? Clubbing is the word.’

‘Dancing sounds nicer. I like dancing.’

‘Can you dance?’

‘Of course I can dance!’ He looked offended at the very notion that he might not be able to.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you fancy yourself as a bit of a Fred Astaire? We should call you the dancing detective.’

‘Ha ha, I like that.’ He looked like he was going to say something else but changed his mind and took a sip of his beer instead.

I smiled at him. ‘What’s the time?’

‘Nearly eight.’

‘Already? I should go.’

‘Why? Is your Horlicks calling to you?’

‘No, but my bed is. I’ve got to be up at five to go to the flower market.’

‘Five? That’s crazy! I can’t believe you have to go that early. What time does your shop open? Nine?’

‘Half past eight.’

‘So, why do you have to be up at five?’

‘Have a shower, get dressed, put my make-up on, then I drive there, choose the flowers, have a chat, drive back, make up any orders.’

‘Can’t you get them delivered?’

‘Yes.’

‘So, get them delivered.’

‘I like to go and see what’s there. They always have new things in. It’s exciting.’

Anthony frowned at me. ‘But, do you really need to go tomorrow? Couldn’t you get them delivered? Just this once?’

‘For a policeman, you’re a really bad influence, you know!’

He grinned. ‘Is that a yes?’

I looked at his smiling face and decided I’d much rather have an evening out with a handsome man than get up at five and start work early. ‘Well, I suppose it’s not essential that I go tomorrow. But I’m not sure about going dancing. How about we just go to another bar?’

‘Okay.’ He turned and called the waitress over for the bill. I got my purse out of my bag but he waved me away. ‘I’ll get this as a thank you for coming out with me tonight.’

‘You don’t have to do that. It’s my pleasure, honestly.’

‘No, let me. Please.’

Chapter Two

We left the bar and walked up the street to find somewhere else. It was too cold to walk far. I shivered in my coat and huddled down.

‘Where did you meet Patrick?’

‘Here, in Chester.’

‘In a bar?’

‘Yes. This one just up here, actually. Do you want to go in? I promise I won’t cry.’

Anthony laughed. ‘Okay. At least it will get us out of this wind.’

The music coming from the bar got louder and louder as we went up the steps, until I could feel it pumping in my chest. It hadn’t been this noisy the night I’d met Patrick. I cast a doubtful look over my shoulder at Anthony but he was just looking around curiously, his eyes flicking over the groups of people standing in huddles near the bar or else sitting together at tables dotted around the edge of the empty dance floor. We ordered drinks from the bar and found a little booth in the corner with a round table and a bench seat. The lighting was dim and blue and we sat close together, almost touching but not quite.

‘It wasn’t like this last time I came here,’ I shouted.

‘Sorry?’ He bent his head and I put my lips close to his ear to repeat what I’d said.

He shrugged and shifted closer to me. ‘What was it like then?’ His voice reverberated in my ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise. Heat and desire melted my insides and made my legs weak.

I turned my head to speak into his ear. The smell of his aftershave made my senses reel and I had to resist the urge to let my lips brush his skin. ‘Quieter.’

He nodded and leaned away slightly to look around the bar again. I wanted to pull him back against me and tell him to look at me, not the other people. I took another sip of wine and then another, realising I felt slightly drunk as I did so. Anthony leaned back against me and spoke into my ear again. ‘You said you met Patrick here?’

I nodded.

‘Were you out with friends?’

‘No, I was alone.’ I blushed and pulled back to laugh. Leaning in again, I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’d been stood up and Patrick happened to be in here.’

Anthony looked surprised. ‘Was he on his own too?’

‘Yes, he was in Chester on business.’

‘So, he came to your rescue, did he?’

I shrugged and looked away. I seemed to have talked a lot about Patrick tonight. At this rate, Anthony would think I was still hung up on him and that wasn’t true. The smell of Anthony’s aftershave was giving me a raw hunger in my stomach and I was finding it harder and harder to keep my hands to myself. I looked at the long expanse of his thigh pressed up against mine and wondered if he’d mind if I stroked it.

Anthony nudged me, a cheeky look in his eye. ‘So, do you come here often?’

I smiled and shook my head. ‘Not for ages.’

His eyes rested on mine for a moment and then dropped to my lips. My heart pounded with the expectation of a kiss, but instead he leaned forward and reached for his drink. I was instantly disappointed. Maybe I should try kissing him. He was definitely interested; I could tell by the intensity in his eyes. I hadn’t even felt like this on my first date with Patrick. We’d just talked and laughed and then exchanged numbers before he’d left. It hadn’t felt this intimate or sexually charged. I hadn’t had this heat or these chills that were making me fizz and tingle. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the fact that I’d been quite lonely and sad this past year, or maybe it was simply because he was so damn handsome, but as he put his beer bottle down and turned to talk to me, I couldn’t resist him any more and suddenly I was kissing him.

Anthony didn’t react immediately. He just sat there while I stretched up against him, pressing my lips to his. Had I made a huge mistake? Was this about to become the most awkward moment of my life?

My eyes flickered open and I pulled away, but he placed a hand on the back of my neck, drawing me back towards him. This time, he lowered his face and kissed me properly. I felt like I was floating, soft and weightless, my head spinning. The bar disappeared and all that existed for me was him. My hand was on his face, my fingers tracing the outline of his high cheekbones, the outer shell of his ear, the hollow beneath. I felt him shiver beneath my touch and it ignited a fire inside of me. I kissed him harder, pressing closer as his hand dropped to my waist and travelled down over my hip and thigh before he pulled my leg across his knee. He kissed my throat, sucking and nipping and licking my sensitive skin until I was a mass of tingles. Tipping my head back, I opened my eyes and was suddenly aware that perhaps we shouldn’t be doing this in such a public place. Even though we were in a booth and a table concealed the fact his hand was up my skirt, caressing the inside of my thigh, it wasn’t the time or the place.

Especially with a policeman.

I pushed him away, kissing his nose softly when he looked up bewildered. Understanding dawned in his eyes and he sat up and straightened his clothes. We sat for a moment, leaning into each other, and then he looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

‘Shall we go?’ he said.

I nodded and got to my feet as he took my hand and led me back outside into the night. I barely registered the icy wind, insulated as I was by lust and wine. Anthony pulled me to him and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I couldn’t stop smiling and little bubbles of happiness were bursting inside me. How had this happened? How could I be walking home with this gorgeous man I hadn’t known existed this morning? Everything seemed brighter: the moon, the stars, the streetlights. Even the pavement beneath our feet seemed to sparkle, although that was probably frost.

We reached the bridge across the river and paused to watch the water rush and burble over the weir. The naked branches of the winter trees swayed in the wind and Anthony wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again. His lips and nose and face were cold now, and I covered his skin with butterfly kisses before hugging him fiercely. He laughed and grabbed my hand to pull me on. My house wasn’t far from the bridge, and we stumbled along, laughing and chatting, and it wasn’t until I reached the end of my road that I suddenly started to question what I was doing and what he was expecting. Was he just walking me home like he’d said he would? He seemed quite keen to get to my house. Was I really going to invite him in? I liked him, but I’d only just met him and I didn’t usually go to bed with men I’d just met. My head was at war with itself, with one side telling me to have a bit of fun, and the other reminding me that tonight hadn’t even started out as a date.

The streetlight glowed outside my house and next-door’s cat weaved its way across the small patch of grass in front of my window. ‘Well, here we are,’ I said, slightly hesitant, looking at the white front door of my tiny house.

‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening,’ he said, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked down at me. His fingers were still threaded through mine and I thought how well they fit together, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I smiled up at him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Well, thank you, too. It was certainly unexpected.’

He smiled. ‘The best things usually are.’

With some regret, I let go of his hand and retrieved my key from my bag. ‘Goodnight, Anthony.’

He kissed me again and then stepped away. ‘Goodnight, Rachel.’

Once inside, I made myself a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa to ring Elena. I was impressed that he hadn’t expected to be invited in, considering the mixed signals I must have been sending him. He was obviously a real gentleman.

‘Hi, Rachel,’ Elena said from the other end of the phone. ‘You okay?’

‘Hi! Yes, I am! More than okay, in fact. I was just phoning to say I met someone. Someone gorgeous and amazing and sweet and amazing. And he’s just amazing!’

‘Wow! Three amazings? Who is he?’

‘He’s the new tenant in the flat above the shop. Anthony, his name is. Anthony Bascombe. He came into the shop just before closing tonight and asked me to have dinner with him. He’s so handsome and so polite and he’s like a real-life gentleman. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man with such lovely manners before.’

‘What about me?’ I heard Daniel say in the background.

‘Is that Daniel? Is he listening in on this? You haven’t put me on speakerphone have you?’

‘No, but he’s in bed next to me and he overheard.’

‘Wait, you’re in bed? I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?’

‘Oh, it’s okay. Daniel can go all night, can’t you, Dan?’

‘Er, too much information, thanks!’ I shook my head, trying to rid myself of unwelcome images. ‘No wonder the poor lad looks knackered.’

‘That’s just working on the house. I’ve made him have a night off tonight so we can snuggle.’ She made contented little noises, like she was nuzzling Daniel’s neck, and I rolled my eyes. ‘So, what are you doing talking to me when you’ve met this amazing new man? Why haven’t you set about seducing him? Is he playing hard to get?’

‘Not really. We kissed in the bar and then he walked me home, but we said goodbye at the door.’

‘What? Boring!’

‘Elena, I didn’t even know him five hours ago.’

‘And? Do I need to remind you what a crap year you’ve had? You could do with a bit of action.’

‘Ha ha! No, you don’t need to remind me. But I am a lady…’ I paused while I waited for Elena to stop howling with laughter. ‘I just didn’t think it would be a good idea, that’s all,’ I huffed.

‘So, what’s he like then?’

‘Tall, dark-blond hair that looks curly, but he styles it so it’s all neat, killer cheekbones, blue eyes, nice teeth.’

‘How old?’

‘Thirty-fiveish?’

‘Another older man? Are you sure he isn’t married?’

‘He says not but you never know, I suppose. He reckons he works too much.’

‘What does he do?’

‘He’s a detective.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Well, I’ll let you two get back to whatever you were doing. I just wanted to share.’

‘Well, I’m glad you did. Thanks for phoning. Love you.’

‘Love you, too!’

I hung up and looked around at my empty front room. The heating had gone off for the night and the house was starting to feel cold. Suddenly, I wished I’d asked Anthony in and was snuggling with him under the covers, like Elena was with Daniel now.

***

I felt great the next morning and got up early enough to walk to work and go to the flower market before opening the shop. The world felt fresh and new and full of hope. It was still dark when I left the house and the pavement was white with frost. It made me feel Christmassy and I got a surge of excitement thinking about decorating the shop this weekend. I wondered if I’d see Anthony that day and if we could go out again this evening. The scent of his aftershave was still on my coat, and I breathed it in as I walked through the frosty morning. It made me smile and filled me with anticipation and longing.

‘You’re looking very happy today!’ Bobbi said when she came into work later that morning. She’d plaited her silvery lilac hair so she looked about ten years old. She leaned on the counter next to me, her tiny crystal nose stud glinting in the shop lights. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing! Just excited about Christmas, that’s all!’

‘Really? Already?’ Her brow creased.

‘Well, we’re decorating the shop this weekend, aren’t we? In fact, I might do the window display today if we’re not too busy.’

‘Yeah, but…’ Bobbi shrugged and gave me an appraising look. ‘You look happier than that. You’ve got a proper glint in your eye. Have you met someone?’

‘Me? Who would I meet?’

‘You have, haven’t you!’ Bobbi pointed her finger in my face and bounced up and down on her cherry-red Doc Marten’s. ‘Who is he? Tell me!’

‘Shh, no one.’ I looked around furtively to check no one was about. ‘I met the new tenant from upstairs yesterday. We went out for dinner. His name’s Anthony Bascombe and he’s gorgeous!’

‘Really? Oooh! And you went out for dinner with him? Tell me more.’ Bobbi rested her chin in her hands and looked up at me with huge brown eyes, like a child waiting for her bedtime story.

I shook my head. ‘There’s not much to tell really. We ate dinner, he walked me home, end of story.’

‘Was there a kiss? There was a kiss, wasn’t there? Tell me there was a kiss!’

‘Yes, there was a kiss.’

Bobbi squealed and clapped. ‘Hurray! A man at last.’

‘Oh, thanks, Bobbi. Nice to know you have such faith in my love life.’

‘Well, you know, after Patrick and everything we were all a bit worried.’

I rolled my eyes and walked through into the back room. I’d bought some mistletoe from the market this morning and had planned to make kissing balls to display in the window. We’d been quiet so far today and it would be good to make a start. It would give us something to do between customers anyway and free up some time at the weekend. Plus, it might stop me obsessively looking out of the window, waiting for Anthony to stop by. I kept telling myself he was work, but my stupid head wouldn’t listen. I kept staring at the door hopefully. Bobbi and I chatted as we worked and it didn’t take us long to make the kissing balls and fill crystallised vintage jars with white flowers and red berries. We suspended them from a large rustic branch that was fixed in the window display. It usually had floral birdcages hanging from it, but I’d decided to just have one large birdcage in the base of the window filled with a sprawling display of red and white roses, green foliage and large red sparkly balls. When we’d finished, Bobbi went outside to check what it looked like. I waited for her response, only to find she wasn’t looking at the window display at all; she was staring off up the street instead. Feeling impatient, I rapped on the glass to get her attention.

Bobbi jumped at my sharp knock and looked back at me as if she’d been somewhere far, far away. I pointed at the display and rolled my eyes when she turned back to look in the direction she’d been gazing in before, as if in some kind of trance, and offered a half-hearted thumbs-up to placate me. Annoyed, I opened the door and stepped out into the street to have a look myself.

‘Oh, that looks quite good, doesn’t it?’ I said, pleasantly surprised. ‘Maybe we should add a string of fairy lights around the branch. What do you reckon?’

‘Really good,’ Bobbi said, not looking at me or the display at all.

‘You don’t think it’s too plain, though? I think Mum might think it’s too bare.’ Bobbi didn’t respond. Frowning, I followed her line of sight, only to find Anthony Bascombe standing a few feet away, deep in conversation with a tall, black-haired man. Heat surged through me and my legs turned to jelly.