Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Carla Burgess

  ‘I was thinking more of Rebus, but okay then.’

  He laughed. ‘We come in all shapes and sizes.’

  ‘Do you like your job?’

  ‘Yes, I love it.’

  ‘Does it get you down? Dealing with murderers and paedophiles?’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t. I’m primarily fraud at the moment, though.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Presumably that’s less emotionally traumatic to investigate than some other crimes?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘There’s no such thing as a victimless crime, though.’

  I nodded, and waited for him to continue, but he just looked at me. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know much about fraud really. ‘Are you investigating anything at the moment?’ I said at last, slightly bewildered by his silence.

  ‘Of course. Fraud’s a massive problem.’

  ‘I expect you have to work long hours?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hence why you’re really bad at relationships?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He smiled and took another sip from his glass of beer.

  ‘Not all detectives are single, though, are they?’ I sat back and moved my cutlery to one side as the waitress appeared with our plates of food. ‘Surely some of them are married and have families?’ I smiled my thanks to the waitress.

  ‘Thank you. Yes, of course they are. My friend John is very happily married.’

  ‘So, I suspect the problem is more you than your job.’

  He laughed. ‘That’s true. So, why has your mum gone on holiday without your dad? Are they splitting up?’

  ‘Oh no. At least I hope not. She’s gone with her sister to celebrate her birthday. They don’t go every year or anything. Mum and Dad still go on holiday together, but only in this country. Dad won’t go abroad. He’s terrified of flying.’

  Anthony laughed. ‘Your poor dad.’

  ‘Mmm, I know. I think he’s enjoying having the TV to himself.’ I cut into my salmon and carefully pushed it onto my fork. ‘I’ve been round to keep him company a couple of evenings but I think he’s coping okay. Have you been on holiday this year?’

  He shook his head as he chewed his mouthful of food. ‘I had a week off in the summer but I didn’t go away anywhere. I just visited family really. What about you? You mentioned Paris before?’

  ‘Yes, I went to Paris with Patrick for a weekend but other than that I haven’t been anywhere. I usually go somewhere with my friend Elena, but she’s bought a house with her fiancé so she couldn’t afford it. Besides, I doubt he’d have let her go anyway. They can’t be apart for more than a few hours before they start pining for each other.’

  Anthony wrinkled his nose slightly. ‘That sounds a bit nauseating.’

  ‘They’re very sweet, actually. She was obsessed with him at college. It’s lovely that she finally got together with him.’

  ‘So, was Paris nice?’

  ‘It was lovely, yes. Have you been?’

  ‘A couple of times. Where did you stay?’

  ‘In a hotel near the Champs Elysees. It was lovely. I’d never been to Paris before so it was lovely to see all the sights I’d read about and seen on TV.’

  ‘Did Patrick know Paris well?’

  ‘He seemed to, yes.’ I smiled a little sadly. ‘It was very romantic. He proposed to me, actually. He pulled out all the stops: violins, champagne, roses.’

  ‘He proposed?’ Anthony’s fork paused on its way to his mouth. ‘But I thought you’d only been together a short time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Anthony put his fork down and looked at me. ‘You said no, of course.’

  I stared at him, wishing I could agree and say ‘of course I said no!’, but I’d said yes, so I couldn’t. I felt a quiver of shame and regret run through me and decided that, in future, I should just lie, or preferably not discuss Patrick at all. Especially with extremely handsome men who were practically strangers.

  Anthony raised an eyebrow. ‘You said yes? So, let me get this straight. You hardly saw or spoke to him, but you still thought it would be a good idea to marry him?’

  ‘I know, it sounds awful.’ I passed a hand across my face, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Hey, it’s not my place to judge.’ Anthony held up his hands and laughed. ‘I’m just wondering how he got away with behaving like that when I’ve never been able to.’

  I smiled and rubbed my head, still embarrassed. ‘Well, he was behaving better at the time. When I first met him, which was just before Christmas last year, he was really full-on. He phoned me all the time and showered me with gifts. He made me feel special. And then it seemed like as soon as I started falling for him, it all stopped and he started not being able to see me. We had a big row about it around March time, and he said I wasn’t being fair because he had to make time for his daughter too, which made me feel like a monster. Anyway, we sorted that out and he allowed me to meet his little girl, and I felt like he was letting me into his life at last. It was just after that he took me to Paris and proposed. I must have been mad to say yes, but I thought he’d changed and that he must be serious about me to go to all the effort of organising a proposal that grand. I was swept away by it all. But when I got home, he was worse than ever. I hardly heard from him again at all.’

  ‘When did you finish it?’

  ‘He was supposed to come to my mum’s sixtieth birthday party but he let me down at the last minute. Said he was stuck at work. It was a big deal because he hadn’t met any of my friends or family.’

  ‘Really?’ Anthony looked astounded. ‘I need to talk to this man, get some tips from him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He kept you hanging on for months while avoiding spending any quality time with you, and managed to avoid meeting your friends and family. That’s quite a genius manoeuvre. How did he do that? Can I have his number?’

  I knew Anthony was joking, or at least I hoped he was, but his words stung and I felt a frisson of anger pulse through me. ‘He has a big personality and he’s hugely generous. But I can’t give you his number because I don’t have it any more. I made a point of deleting it when we split up.’ I put my knife and fork down and reached for my wine. ‘It also requires your girlfriend to be gullible and slightly mad. I mean, I must have been mad, mustn’t I? I even agreed to get married abroad, knowing my dad won’t fly. What was that all about? I have no clue.’ I took another gulp of wine and blinked away the sudden tears from my eyes. ‘It’s funny because I’d never been taken in by men’s bullshit before. Patrick was the first man I ever really cared about and he played me for a fool. People warned me our relationship didn’t make sense but I wouldn’t listen. I suppose I wanted to believe him.’

  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.