Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Abby Clements

  ‘Delicious,’ Patrick said, taking a bite of a hot mince pie before Diana or Laurie could stop him. His hand went straight to his mouth. ‘God, hot,’ he said, laughing. ‘I think I burned my tongue. But anyway, still worth it.’

  Patrick had arrived just after eight. He followed Laurie into the living room and as they stopped to talk to some of the women volunteers Patrick draped his arm around Laurie’s waist. Laurie hadn’t invited it, but it felt sort of nice. When the ladies made their excuses and headed over to the buffet table, Patrick pulled her closer and gave her a squeeze. ‘You look,’ he whispered in her ear huskily, ‘absolutely irresistible tonight.’

  Laurie wondered how much longer she’d be able to wait. The cottage – and her big, comfortable, warm, empty double bed, were only metres away. She took a sip of mulled wine and imagined for a moment what it would be like – to have his hands on her, to see that body she’d been admiring under clothes. The tension between them seemed to grow each time they spoke, and Laurie was only human – when he spoke to her like he had just now it was as if she … dissolved.

  She excused herself to go to the bathroom. Central heating always played havoc with her hair – so she’d brought some serum with her to smooth it down. As she made her way to the stairs, Ben came over to her.

  She smiled hello, then moved to go upstairs to the bathroom. ‘Laurie, isn’t it?’ he said, with a smile. They’d only spoken that one time, when she’d first arrived, but he’d been a friendly face back then, when she’d really needed to see one. ‘Ben, hi,’ she said, stopping on the bottom stair.

  ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, politely.

  ‘Are you …’ he started. ‘Is Patrick your boyfriend?’ Ben asked. Laurie hesitated. She didn’t know herself what the answer was, but she was fairly sure she didn’t want to be broadcasting it via the neighbourhood gossip.

  ‘None of your beeswax,’ she said, playfully dodging the question.

  ‘It’s just … well, nothing. I don’t really know him.’ Ben shrugged.

  ‘Right,’ Laurie said, furrowing her brow as she tried to read his expression. ‘So, forget about me. Who are you going to be cornering under the mistletoe, Ben? Any ladies on the horizon?’

  ‘No,’ he said, looking down shyly.

  ‘Aha!’ Laurie said. ‘Now the shoe’s on the other foot. Who is she?’ she whispered, leaning closer. ‘Go on, you can tell me.’

  ‘All right,’ Ben said. ‘But promise you won’t blab?’

  ‘I promise,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

  ‘Her name’s Milly.’

  CHAPTER 24

  Saturday 16th December

  Laurie, hammer in hand, was ready to start the auction. Her eyes scanned over the crowd. She’d suspected there was a gap to fill in the Skipley social scene – but she’d never expected this. The community centre was packed to the rafters. She spotted Patrick in the crowd, looking more gorgeous than ever in a navy V-neck sweater. He winked at her. She didn’t know how she’d managed to resist the temptation of sleeping with him after Diana’s party. But now, she reasoned, she’d waited long enough. Tonight, yes. Tonight felt right.

  The women had worked hard to get everything ready on time – whether it was decorating the set with red drapes, tinsel and fairy lights, getting drinks for the small bar, or doing last-minute sewing – they had stopped at nothing to make the event special. Even when hems still needed sewing that morning, just hours before the show was due to start, they had all kept the faith – and now the community centre was all set up for the auction.

  Joyce was the first one up on the makeshift catwalk – modelling a long-sleeved cocktail dress with slashes of silver, and striding into the crowd like she was born to do it. Some of the women had been nervous beforehand, but not Joyce – she’d made it clear that at sixty-eight, after a lifetime as a wallflower, she was ready for her fifteen minutes of fame.

  Wolf whistles came from the crowd. Laurie recognised a few faces from around the village, and Diana’s party – there was Sandra’s husband, the woman from the bakery, Graham from the pub, Ben, and Andy, the manager at the homeless shelter.

  ‘Do I have forty pounds?’ Laurie asked, motioning to Joyce on the runway, ‘for this stunning one-off piece?’

  Laurie spotted a policewoman, still in uniform, raising her hand.

  ‘Fifty pounds?’

  The woman from the bakery put her hand up.

  ‘Sixty pounds?’

  Hands flicked up with increasing speed until the policewoman was the only remaining bidder at a hundred and twenty pounds.

  ‘Sold to the lovely lady in uniform,’ Laurie said, banging her hammer. She didn’t want to jump the gun, but at this rate, they would have the costs of the charity Christmas dinner covered in no time.

  Diana was due up next. Laurie glanced down at where she was standing, nervously fiddling with her hair, and gave her a wink. Diana walked up on to the stage. She was in a Christmassy number, a strapless black dress with a band of scarlet silk across the top and a tailored scarlet jacket. The result was dazzling – simple and bold and seriously sexy. As she took tentative steps down the catwalk, a couple of the local men stared at her, jaws on the floor. One man in particular – Graham – was staring at Diana in unveiled admiration. Music pumped out, and Diana’s confidence slowly grew – she twirled at the foot of their hand-made catwalk and the crowd let out a roar of approval.

  ‘Diana, that’s nearly four hundred pounds from the entry donations alone,’ Laurie exclaimed, as she went through the figures, ‘and we’re looking at close to eight hundred for the dresses and suit jackets people bid for. Not bad at all for a night’s work!’ Laurie high-fived Diana, who looked a little startled.

  As more fizz and wine had been drunk, the bids had crept higher. The jacket Diana had been modelling went for eighty pounds, and Pam’s outfit, a party dress with cap sleeves and lines of sequins sewn on it, had gone for a hundred and fifty. Now that the crowd had finally dispersed, mostly shifting down the road to Graham’s pub, Laurie and Diana were able to count up the money they had made.

  ‘Andy’s going to be delighted,’ Diana said. Then, suddenly seeming more coy, she continued, ‘And something else interesting happened tonight.’ Laurie raised an eyebrow in question. ‘I got a phone number,’ Diana admitted, passing Laurie a card with Graham from the pub’s contact details on it.

  ‘Graham,’ Laurie said approvingly. ‘Good work. But forget the phone, why don’t we both go down there now? I said I’d meet the other girls, and Patrick is over there too.’

  ‘I don’t normally go to the pub,’ Diana said, wrinkling her nose as if the whole notion embarrassed her.

  Laurie gave Diana a stern look. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘And I suppose you normally get up on the catwalk, do you?’

  Diana couldn’t deny it – it was plain to see that stepping out of her comfort zone hadn’t done her any harm so far. All she needed was a little more encouragement.

  ‘Come on,’ Laurie said, filling up a glass with the remainder of a bottle of Cava on the bar table. ‘I made a leap of faith coming here, and I’m so pleased I did it. Get this down you and then let’s head up the road.’

  Laurie and Diana could hear the singing even before the pub came into view. There was what sounded like a very drunken chorus of ‘Last Christmas’ coming from the isolated pub, but rather than putting Diana off her mission, it seemed to be attracting her like a magnet. She was already singing along.

  ‘I haven’t been out since Richard left,’ Diana said. ‘I mean not like this, to a pub. He always told me pubs were tacky – can you believe it?’ she said. ‘From a man who’s now partying it up in Ibiza?’

  Laurie pulled her coat tightly around her and looked forward to getting inside the warm pub. The temperature had continued to drop, with thicker snow falling through the evening.

  As they opened the pub door, the ladies inside let out a cheer. ‘Our star m
odel,’ Pam shouted out, raising her glass in Diana’s direction. ‘And to the woman who made it all happen,’ she said, looking at Laurie. Laurie felt a warm glow build up inside her. It had been a hard slog, with late nights along the way, but it had all been worth it. She ordered drinks for her and Diana, who was happily chatting away to all and sundry, and glanced around the bar for Patrick. She spotted him over on the other side of the pub, chatting to a couple of women in the corner – he saw her looking and waved over.

  Laurie handed Diana her drink. She and Graham were now deep in conversation, and Diana looked relaxed and happy. Gadget the sheepdog was standing nearby, in a pair of red antlers, batting them with his paw and trying to pull them off, and Alfie was barking crossly at them. Their owners were looking on and laughing.

  Laurie made her way over towards Patrick. ‘Hello,’ she said, snaking a hand around his waist.

  ‘Hi, gorgeous,’ Patrick said, leaving his conversation and enveloping her in a hug. ‘Congratulations.’ He pulled back and kissed her hello.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. It had felt good to have him there in the crowd. ‘Listen,’ she whispered in Patrick’s ear, ‘I was wondering if you might be available to help me celebrate tonight … in a private party at the cottage?’

  Patrick smiled. Laurie was glad she’d decided to take the leap and ask him – the idea of finally spending the night with him just felt right.

  He leaned in towards her ear, and whispered back, ‘I’d be delighted to. I feel like all my Christmases have come at once.’

  Laurie laughed and squeezed his hand. She took a sip of her drink and then, seeing a mobile on the table, a memory came back to her. Damn – she’d had a text from Rachel the other day and had meant to call her back. She’d been so caught up in planning the auction it had completely slipped her mind. She looked in her handbag for her phone, but saw it was empty apart from her wallet and keys.

  ‘Patrick,’ she said. ‘Can I borrow your phone a second? I think I must have left mine at home. I need to make a call.’

  He handed her his iPhone. ‘Sure, babe, here you go,’

  She moved through the crowd out towards the window, where reception was always better. As she went to put in the digits of Rachel’s number, which she’d committed to memory years ago, a message beeped and the start of it appeared on screen. She caught a glimpse of the first two words: ‘Hi there’.

  She shouldn’t read it. Of course she shouldn’t. It was a private message to Patrick. And she had absolutely no right to be …

  Too late. The whole first line of the text was visible, and Laurie caught sight of it.

  Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier. I do want to meet up.

  Laurie felt a rush of jealousy. She stopped herself – she shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. It could be a colleague, a friend, his brother.

  She would call Rachel and— No, she couldn’t ignore the message, not now that she’d read some of it. She needed to put her mind at rest. She would read the rest and then explain to Patrick that she’d opened it by accident. It was easy enough to click an on-screen text open in error. Taking a deep breath and looking up to check that Patrick was distracted in conversation, she touched the little blue box and read on.

  Christmas Eve I’m normally with my family, but I’ll see if I can get out of it, for a bit at least Mx

  Laurie furrowed her brow. Christmas Eve? M, with a kiss? Was Patrick already lining up dates with another woman for when she was gone? A wave of shock and indignation rose up in her.

  Then she looked up at the sender’s name. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed it earlier: Milly

  In one crushing moment, the truth hit her.

  Laurie walked back through to the bar. It seemed hotter and more crowded than before, and she felt dizzy. Patrick was getting a round of mulled wine for a couple of the older ladies, who were laughing heartily. He looked over as she came closer and gave her a wink.

  Laurie handed him his phone back without saying a word. The Christmas music whirled and throbbed. Laurie was straining to breathe properly, she needed to get outside into the fresh air. She grabbed her coat from the coat-stand and turned to go, but as she did, Patrick caught her by the elbow.

  ‘You going?’ he said.

  She didn’t even want to look at him. As Milly’s emails came back to her, and she remembered the advice she’d given, she felt sick – Laurie realised she was partly responsible. She turned and quickly walked away through the revellers. Patrick weaved through the crowd to the door, following her, and as she reached for the handle she felt his presence behind her. He put his hand over hers. ‘Laurie,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Wait.’

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ she hissed, before slipping away from him out of the pub door.

  Outside, wooden tables and chairs formed an empty pub garden, the grass around it frosted. Laurie inhaled deep lungfuls of cold air and tried to calm her racing thoughts. Patrick caught up with her again and took hold of her arm.

  ‘What’s going on, Laurie?’ he said, spinning her round to face him. ‘What was that about? Were you just going to walk out and leave me?’

  ‘Patrick,’ Laurie said, fury rising up in her. ‘Tell me something.’ Her head was spinning.

  Adrenalin coursing through her veins, she took a deep breath and spoke. She had to know the truth. ‘Milly Murray,’ she said. ‘Does that name mean anything to you?’

  ‘Milly …’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Really,’ she said. He reached out to touch her hair and she smelt his familiar aftershave.

  ‘Yes, really. Can we go back in now, please?’ he said. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  She looked at Patrick again. This handsome man with his sparkling eyes and nicely fitting jeans – who’d been so tender with her. Did she really know him at all?

  ‘Pretty girl,’ she continued, ‘tall, with dark-red hair?’

  Patrick shrugged his shoulders, his stare remaining steady. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell.’

  Laurie knew now that she had to see it through. Her resolve hardened. ‘Oh, but you’d remember a girl like that, wouldn’t you, Patrick?’

  ‘Look, I’m sure,’ he said, irritated now, ‘I don’t know anyone called Milly. What is this, Laurie? What’s going on with you?’

  ‘The thing is,’ Laurie said, trusting her gut, ‘I don’t think I believe you, Patrick.’

  Silence hung between them. After a long moment, he broke it. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘now you mention it, I do think I may have met a Milly. This girl lives round here, right? I imagine I’ll have seen her around – Skipley’s a small place.’

  ‘Seen her around?’ Laurie said, her voice rising as anger welled up inside her. ‘Or texted her, asked her out? Because there’s a difference, Patrick.’

  Patrick hesitated, then spoke again. ‘OK, look, yes, I do know her,’ he said, holding his hands up as if under attack. ‘I’ve spoken with her. But she’s just a kid, Laurie. It’s got nothing to do with us. I mean nothing even happened.’

  ‘You’re right there, she is just a kid,’ Laurie said, ‘she’s fifteen years old, Patrick,’ Laurie continued, feeling sick to her stomach as she said the words. ‘And if nothing’s happened, it’s not for want of trying, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Oh Christ,’ he said, putting a hand to his forehead. ‘I mean, I met her in a pub,’ he said. ‘Woah, she looks much older than that. I thought she was eighteen or something. Look, Laurie, I was confused,’ Patrick insisted. ‘I’d seen Milly around, but I only talked to her once, before you even got here. As soon as I got to know you, I knew this – us – was something much bigger. But I didn’t want to hurt Milly, so I was letting her down gently, saying we’d still meet up for a friendly drink when she got back. It’s you I care about. This doesn’t have to affect things between us.’ He reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched and his hand fell away.

  ‘Oh yes it does,’ she roar
ed.

  ‘Come on, Laurie,’ he implored her, ‘I really like you.’ Laurie stepped further away from him. ‘You’re the one I really want. Come back to mine tonight.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, right,’ Laurie said, rolling her eyes and letting out a laugh laden with contempt. ‘Because that’s how much respect I have for myself, and for my goddaughter. Because you know that’s who Milly is, Patrick. Come back to yours …’ she laughed wryly. ‘I’ve half a mind to report you to the police right now.’

  Patrick’s face fell and he looked like a child who’d been caught out.

  Laurie leaned in towards him. ‘Tell me, was any of what you told me true?’ she asked. ‘All that stuff you said about your brother, your family?’

  ‘Yes, of course it is,’ he snapped back, looking towards his feet.

  ‘I don’t believe you, Patrick,’ Laurie said, kicking herself for falling for his lies. ‘Milly deserves far, far better. Don’t you dare go near her again. Or I will go to the police. You can count on that.’

  Laurie left Patrick there and turned on her heel to walk back in the direction of the cottage in the heavy snow, thinking only of the phone call she urgently needed to make.

  CHAPTER 25

  Saturday 16th December

  It was past midnight when Rachel saw the cottage landline number flash up on the screen of her mobile. Laurie. She reached for the red button and cut off the call.

  But from where it lay on the coffee table, her phone taunted her. She knew, instinctively, that it would ring again.

  Moments later it did, beeping insistently.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Aiden said, looking at the flashing screen.

  The thoughts – and the images, all those horrible images, of Aiden and Laurie, flooded her mind again. She’d tried to carry on as normal, but now the anger and confusion was rising to the surface, and the feelings were even stronger than before.

  As Rachel stared at the ringing mobile she realised she needed to hear the truth. She got up and took her phone into the bedroom, away from Aiden and the noise of the TV, closing the door firmly behind her. This time she answered the call.