Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Carla Burgess

  ‘You don’t have to do that, you know.’ I took a deep breath and stiffened my resolve.

  ‘Do what?’ He still had hold of my hand.

  ‘Pretend you like me. You know I’m not involved with Patrick any more. I’ll give you all the information I have whether you pretend to like me or not.’

  He swivelled round to look at me. ‘Why would you think I’m pretending to like you?’

  ‘Well, why would you like someone like me?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I like someone like you?’ He frowned, looking troubled. ‘And what do you mean by “someone like you” anyway?’

  ‘Someone gullible enough to believe Patrick’s lies. I’ve been so stupid.’

  ‘No, you haven’t.’

  ‘I have.’ Suddenly tearful, I pulled my hand free of his. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Rachel…’

  Grabbing my coat, I hurried down the stairs to the front door.

  ‘Rachel, wait, please.’ Getting up, he followed me down the stairs to the front door. I was very aware of him behind me. The thud of his footsteps. The sound of his breathing. The shape of his shadow on the wall, merging with mine as we moved. I felt wobbly and breathless as I reached for the door catch to let myself out, but as the door opened, Anthony leaned over from behind and pushed it shut again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his breath hot on my ear. His arms formed a cage around me and I squeezed my eyes shut as a tear escaped down my cheek. Gently, he traced the edge of my ear with his nose and kissed the back of my head. ‘Patrick’s a con man, Rachel. He fooled hundreds of people. Please, don’t blame yourself. You’re not gullible for believing the best of someone. You didn’t know what he was doing. How could you know?’

  He pressed his forehead gently against my hair and I fought the urge to nestle against him.

  ‘Come back upstairs.’

  ‘No, I have to go.’

  ‘Why?’

  I shook my head. It would be so easy to give into this desire to be with him, but that would just be confusing things further. ‘I need some space, Anthony. A lot’s happened over the past couple of days and I need to let it sink in. I’m tired and emotional and I’m better off on my own right now.’

  ‘Okay.’ Anthony removed his hands from either side of me and stepped backwards. He scratched his head and then put his hands on his hips. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said softly, opening the door. The cold night air slipped in through the gap and the sound of rain filled the hallway. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  Unlocking my car, I got in quickly and drove away. It was only when I reached the car park gates and glanced in my rearview mirror that I saw him standing in his doorway, watching me.

  Chapter Five

  It was still pitch-black when I arrived at the shop the following morning. I’d hardly slept all night and felt wired from the three cups of coffee I’d consumed before leaving the house. The temperature had dropped in the early hours and the rain-soaked streets were now covered in thick white frost. Ice sparkled on the cars in the car park as my headlights swept across them. There was no one else about. I’d dressed in thick, fleecy jogging bottoms and a hoody, and carried my usual attire of dress and heels in a bag to change into later, before the shop opened.

  We had a wedding to prepare for. The flowers had been delivered the previous afternoon and now stood in buckets around the back room, waiting to be arranged. The bride had chosen a black theme, and I felt a tingle of excitement as I took out the plans I’d made with her and started to construct her bouquet. I loved designing bouquets that were different to the norm and this design looked stunning when I’d finished. The pale anemones with their dark centres contrasted with black roses and green kangaroo paw. It was simple and elegant and would look striking against an ivory bridal gown. She’d shown me a photograph of her dress and I pictured her in it now, walking up the aisle to stand next to her groom. Her faceless groom, that was. I had no idea what he looked like, although I liked to imagine a big, hairy rocker with tattoos and a Harley-Davidson. I chuckled to myself, an eerie sound in the silence of the empty shop.

  I made a mug of coffee and then carried on with the bridesmaid’s bouquets. I’d almost finished the second one when the back door opened suddenly. Expecting to see my mum, I started violently when I realised it wasn’t her.

  ‘Six o’clock? On a Saturday?’ Anthony blinked at me in disbelief. ‘I thought you were being burgled when I saw the light beneath the door.’

  ‘What are you doing up? All the normal folk are asleep in bed.’

  ‘Who said I’m normal?’ He laughed and looked me up and down curiously. ‘What have you come as? A teddy bear?’

  I looked down at my tracksuit, feeling my cheeks glow. I’d only met him the other day and already he’d seen me just out of the bath with wet hair and no make-up, and now in my tracksuit. ‘It’s warm and comfortable. What’s it to you, anyway? I could be going for a jog after this. You don’t know anything about me.’

  ‘I know you’re all about the flowery dresses and high heels.’

  ‘Vintage,’ I said, flatly. I was used to defending my dress sense.

  ‘Right. Vintage. That’s what I meant.’ He laughed and I narrowed my eyes at him, but I wasn’t really mad. I knew he was just teasing. I felt embarrassed about last night and was relieved to be talking about anything but that.

  ‘You’re letting the cold in,’ I said pointedly, turning my attention back to the bouquet I was arranging.

  ‘So I am.’ He stepped into the shop and shut the door behind him. I looked up at him in surprise, realising he was wearing black running shorts and a tight T-shirt that clung to his chest and abs.

  ‘Are you going for a run? It’s a bit cold for that, isn’t it?’

  ‘Makes you run faster.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘What are all these then?’ he asked, scraping back a chair and sitting down.

  ‘Rose, anemone, kangaroo paw.’ I held each flower up in turn. He looked on wide-eyed, like a little boy receiving a lesson. I felt quite touched that he was taking such an interest.

  ‘Wow. They look at bit dull individually, but they look amazing all together in a…’ He indicated the bridal bouquet. ‘…Thingy.’

  ‘Bouquet? Thanks,’ I said, pleased. Spinning an anemone between my fingers, I watched the dark centre swirl.

  ‘I expect you’ve been arranging flowers since you were a child, have you?’

  ‘Pretty much. Mum used to let me make up little posies when I was little with leftover flowers and offcuts while she worked in the shopfront. Some of my earliest memories are of this shop. Twirling in my summer dresses and getting told off for pulling petals off flowers that were supposed to be for sale.’ I chuckled, as old memories flashed through my head.

  ‘Would you like that kind of upbringing for your daughter? Carry on the tradition?’

  I smiled and glanced up at him through a lock of hair that had slipped from my bun. ‘That’s a long way off yet.’

  He smiled. ‘Be nice, though. Full circle and all that.’

  I felt hot and emotional all of a sudden, as though the past and the future were pressing in on me all at once. It was a strange sensation and possibly one caused by drinking too much coffee rather than by anything else. Anthony was still watching me twirling the anemone in my fingers. I cleared my throat. ‘That’s quite a romantic sentiment from you, Bascombe.’

  ‘Bascombe? Am I back at boarding school or something?’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you go to boarding school?’

  ‘Of course. Don’t you know how posh I am?’ he grinned.

  I laughed. ‘So, what should I call you? Detective Inspector Bascombe?’

  ‘Sir will do nicely.’

  I laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Master?’

  ‘Er, no.’


  ‘Well, that just leaves Anthony then, doesn’t it?’

  The door opened and Mum appeared. ‘Hello! Hello! Oh, Anthony! How lovely to see you! Ooh, aren’t you cold? It’s freezing cold this morning.’

  ‘Morning, Birdie. No, I’m okay. I’m just about to go for my run.’

  ‘Well, be careful. The pavements are icy. Where do you go?’

  ‘Depends, really. I go down to the river sometimes, or I run through town and down by the canal, or I go up on the walls and run around the city.’

  ‘Ooh! That’s impressive,’ Mum said, taking off her coat. ‘So, where are we at, Rachel? What shall I do?’

  ‘You can start with the big altar arrangement, or the buttonholes and corsages. Bobbi and I did the centrepieces for the tables last night,’ I said, nodding towards the black vases lined up on the far side of the room. ‘They look good, don’t they?’

  Mum winced. ‘I suppose so. It’s all a bit gothic for my taste. Why didn’t she go for red and cream if she wanted a winter theme?’

  ‘I think it looks amazing,’ I said, enthusiastically securing my bridesmaid bouquet with black ribbon. ‘Really fresh and different.’

  ‘Yes, but for a wedding?’ Mum said, wrinkling her nose. ‘What do you think, Anthony?’

  ‘I think they look good, but don’t ask me anything about weddings. I pride myself on knowing nothing.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mum laughed, merrily. ‘A bachelor boy, are you?’

  ‘Until the day I die,’ he said, standing up. ‘Right, I’d better go for this run. See you later.’

  ‘Bye, Anthony.’

  He disappeared out of the back door and I looked at my mum, who was giving me a twinkly-eyed look. ‘What?’ I said, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

  ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose he is, but that’s got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Are you sure? You’re a single girl, he’s a single man…’

  ‘Mother! Will you stop trying to fix me up. I have no interest in getting together with the commitment-phobic detective who’s investigating my ex-fiancé for fraud,’ I lied.

  Mum’s mouth fell open. ‘He isn’t?’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘Fraud? Patrick’s a criminal? He always did seem a bit shady from how you described him.’

  ‘Well, he’s innocent until proven guilty and I have no idea about any of it. Anthony just thinks I hold the key to finding him or something. He’s had me compiling a list of all the places we ever went.’

  ‘That didn’t take you long then.’

  ‘Elena already did that joke.’

  Mum tutted and picked up the plans for the large arrangement. ‘How many people knew you were with Patrick? We don’t want to be associated with a criminal.’

  ‘No one knew, because no one ever met him. Other than Bobbi, that is.’

  ‘Well, make sure you don’t tell anyone else about this. It was bad enough when he didn’t show up to my birthday party. We don’t want people knowing he was a criminal all along.’

  ‘I think most people assumed I made him up, didn’t they? Isn’t that what Auntie Liz suggested, anyway.’

  ‘You know she doesn’t mean it. She just worries about you.’

  ‘Yeah, because she thinks I’m a freak who can’t get a man.’

  ‘Don’t be so sensitive! You know that’s not true. Anyway, how are you? I haven’t seen you since I got back off holiday.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, giving her a sour look. ‘And don’t think I don’t know you took a casserole round to Anthony but didn’t come and see me.’

  Mum laughed, unrepentant and amused by my petulance. ‘I’m sorry. I was in a rush. I brought you some perfume back from the duty-free if that’s any consolation.’

  ‘Ooh, thank you,’ I said, perking up. ‘How was your holiday, anyway?’

  ‘It was lovely. The hotel was nice but I don’t think I’d go back there again. We asked for a sea view but we had a pool view in the end. We complained but they wouldn’t move us.’ She shook her head, obviously still vexed by it all, and continued to tell me all about her holiday, which, other than the view, had been very nice. We worked while we talked, and soon the large arrangement was taking shape. In addition to the white and black flowers, it also featured burgundy roses and inky black ostrich feathers. Before I knew it, it was almost eight o’clock and white winter sunlight was streaming in through the front windows of the shop. There was a knock on the front door and Bobbi peered through the window.

  ‘Morning, Bobbi. You look rough. Are you feeling okay?’

  ‘I’m a bit hungover,’ she muttered, walking into the shop slowly and carefully, as though every step caused her pain. Dark glasses covered her eyes and her purple hair fell limply around her face.

  ‘It’s not like you to get drunk, Bobbi. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hungover before.’

  ‘I know, but it was my friend’s birthday and there was this punch and people kept pouring me drinks. Oh God, I don’t even want to talk about it.’ She staggered through to the back room, where I could hear my mum’s concerned voice asking if she was okay. I was just relocking the door when Anthony came running up the road, a look of determination on his face and his muscular arms pumping. I stared and stared. I couldn’t help myself. My brain seemed to process him in slow motion, as though he was a scene from a movie. I was still staring as he got level with the shop doorway, where he stopped and bent over, holding on to the windowsill for support. Knowing I’d been spotted staring, I had no choice but to open the door and talk to him.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve only just got back now. You’ve been gone for ages.’

  ‘Best time to run, early morning.’ He straightened up and gulped some water from his bottle. ‘See the sun come up. Beautiful.’ He took another swig and smiled at me, eyes gleaming. ‘You should come with me.’

  ‘I’d only hold you up.’

  ‘It wouldn’t matter. Think about it and let me know.’ He smiled and went to walk away.

  ‘Do you want to cut through the shop to your steps?’

  ‘No, the alleyway is just here. I don’t want to stop you from working. See you later.’

  ‘Was Anthony asking you to go for a run?’ Mum asked when I’d shut the door and gone into the back. She looked amazed.

  ‘Yes,’ I cringed. ‘I don’t think he knows I don’t do running.’

  ‘You should go. Goodness, even I’d run if it meant I was chasing him around the park.’

  ‘Mother! What would Dad say?’

  ‘He’d say you should go for a run with Anthony Bascombe, that’s what he’d say.’ She turned and looked at Bobbi, who was sitting in a chair with her head in her hands. ‘Oh, Bobbi. Do you think you’re well enough to work today? Maybe you should go home?’

  ‘No, I’ll be okay in a little while.’

  Mum and I exchanged a doubtful look.

  ‘Right, what else is there to do now?’ I said, looking at the finished bouquets and the altar arrangement. ‘A corsage and buttonholes for the groom, father of the bride, best man and four ushers.’

  ‘I’ve done the corsage,’ Mum said, holding it up.

  ‘Oh, that’s pretty. Just the buttonholes then. What time’s Dave due?’ I wondered to myself, moving to check my phone. Dave was our delivery driver and he usually confirmed by text message what time he was going to be arriving to collect the flowers in his van. There was no message yet, though. I frowned. That was strange. He’d normally have messaged me by now. Putting the phone down, I went to join my mum making buttonholes.

  ‘You’ll have to be changing out of your tracksuit in a minute,’ Mum said, glancing at her watch. ‘It’s nearly time to open.’

  ‘I know. I’ll just… oh, I better had.’

  Quickly, I slipped off my sweatshirt and pulled my dress on over my head just as the door opened.

  ‘Hold on!’ I squawked, turnin
g around and pulling the dress frantically over my head.

  ‘Sorry?’ Anthony opened the door anyway. ‘Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!’ he said as the door shut sharply once more.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I called, slipping off my tracksuit bottoms and crossing to open the door again. Anthony was pacing around outside, still in his running gear. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, I’m so sorry,’ he repeated, passing a big hand across his face.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s not like you could see anything, is it? Anyway, it’s my fault. I should have locked the door. Did you want something?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve locked myself out of the flat. I don’t suppose you have a spare key, do you?’

  ‘I think so. Mum?’

  ‘Yes, there’s one in the cashbox beneath the till,’ Mum said. ‘I hope you don’t mind us keeping it there, Anthony? We’d never let ourselves in or anything.’

  ‘No, of course not. I’m glad you’ve got it.’ He looked down at Bobbi and frowned. ‘Oof! Someone looks a bit the worse for wear. Feeling a little delicate today, are we?’

  Bobbi nodded and offered him a weak smile.

  ‘She was at her friend’s birthday party,’ I said. ‘We’ve all been there, haven’t we?’

  ‘Definitely.’ He smiled at Bobbi and she dropped her head back into her hands. ‘Oh, the back of your dress is still undone,’ he said to me. ‘Shall I do it up?’

  ‘Oh! Okay.’

  Anthony moved behind me and did up the three buttons at the top of the dress. A few strands of hair had escaped from my bun and he swept them up with a stroke of his hand so they didn’t get caught in the buttons. Goosebumps raced across my flesh at his touch and my heart boomed.

  ‘Here you go, Anthony,’ Mum said, coming back into the shop and handing him the key.

  ‘Thank you.’ He smiled as he accepted it and looked back at Bobbi. ‘Does Bobbi want to come and lie down upstairs?’

  ‘Err?’ I looked down at Bobbi. ‘I was thinking she might be better off going home, actually.’

  ‘No, I’ve come into work, I’m going to stay in work,’ Bobbi said in a tiny voice. Getting up, she staggered into the shop and leaned heavily on the counter. We all watched her with concern.