A Place To Call Home (Willowbury)

by Fay Keenan

  ‘Really comfortable,’ Charlie said. ‘It feels so good to lie down after three hours crammed in the corridor of the train.’

  ‘Good,’ Holly said, focusing on the techniques she was about to employ on Charlie’s back in an attempt to keep the professional distance. ‘Well, hopefully after this massage you’ll feel even better. So, I’m going to start off with medium pressure on your neck and shoulder blades. If it feels too hard, or too soft, just let me know and I’ll change it up a bit.’ She rubbed her hands together and then uncorked the freshly prepared massage oil. ‘Likewise, if you think my hands are too cold, let me know and I’ll warm them up a bit.’ She dribbled a little bit of the oil onto her palms and then rubbed them together again. Then, taking a deep breath, she put her hands onto Charlie’s broad, muscular back. Feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders, she began to press and squeeze, working her fingertips into the knots and kinks of his shoulders and neck. ‘Some people like me to talk to them while I do this, but others prefer to be quiet, so let me know if you want me to shut up,’ Holly said. She felt the smooth warmth of Charlie’s skin, in contrast to the tension in his back, and she pressed her fingers deeper into the junctions of his shoulder blades, easing out the very worst of the stiffness she found there.

  Charlie groaned as she switched tack and dug her elbow into a particularly stubborn knot between his shoulders.

  ‘Too hard?’ Holly asked. She was leaning over Charlie’s back and felt a sharp, pinpricking tingle deep within herself as she smelt the remnants of his musky aftershave, underpinned by his own scented warmth, combined with the deeper, more peppery scent of the massage oil. In response to her nearness, she saw her breath lift the hair on the back of his neck when she spoke. She was compelled to pause the movement of her hands for a moment, and drew another deep breath.

  ‘No…’ Charlie murmured. He was face down, resting his head on the circle of the massage table, so Holly couldn’t see his expression. ‘It feels amazing. I don’t know why I haven’t had one of these before.’

  ‘You feel quite knotted,’ Holly said, focusing on the vertebrae in his neck. ‘I really would think about getting a new office chair. And booking a seat on the train home.’

  ‘It’s been a busy few weeks,’ Charlie’s voice, muffled from the position he was in, sounded more relaxed. ‘But this is definitely… helping.’

  Holly, who was again using her elbows as well as her hands, felt the warmth of Charlie’s back against her own skin as she pushed deeper into his shoulder blades, feeling him breathing in and out, his chest rising and falling, and then hitching slightly, as she hit another tender spot.

  ‘Did you want me to work on your lower back a little bit, too?’ Holly asked as she straightened up.

  ‘If you’ve got time,’ Charlie replied. He sounded as though he was almost dropping off to sleep. Holly took that as a compliment.

  ‘No problem.’ Shifting down the bed, Holly drizzled some more massage oil onto her palms and began to manipulate Charlie’s lower back. ‘You’ve got a really good, long, straight back,’ she said as she focused on his spine, trying not to notice how attractive it was as it swept into the curve of a very delectable bottom. ‘You should take better care of it.’

  ‘If it means getting more massages like this, then I definitely will.’

  They lapsed into a more comfortable silence as Holly continued to work, to the gentle beat of the relaxation music and the scent of the incense in the air as it burned slowly down. After a few more minutes, Charlie’s breathing seemed to slow, and Holly felt his back muscles relax under her hands, and she knew he was starting to drop off to sleep. This wasn’t unusual with her clients; she’d been told when she took the massage course that this was definitely a sign that she’d been doing her job right.

  With a feeling of slight regret that the massage had come to its natural end, Holly wiped the oily residue off her palms with a fluffy white towel and then spread a larger one over Charlie’s back to keep him warm while he lay there. Giving him one last, long, lingering glance, she padded from the treatment room.

  9

  Charlie woke with a start. Heart thumping as he breathed unfamiliar scents and heard exotic music, it took him a good few seconds to realise that he’d dropped off to sleep on Holly’s massage table. Feeling slightly embarrassed, and hoping against hope that he hadn’t been snoring, he sat up slowly, grabbing the tumbler of water that was on the unit beside the massage table, because he felt incredibly thirsty. As the cool water hit his throat, he realised that his neck and shoulders, while feeling as though they’d had a workout, felt a million times looser and more relaxed than they had before he’d entered the world of ComIncense. Holly had worked wonders with her hands and elbows.

  Squashing the hugely erotic thoughts about where else Holly’s hands might feel good on him, he stood up and grabbed his shirt from the chair in the corner of the room, buttoning it up hastily in case he’d been asleep for hours and Holly was waiting to call it a night. He was glad he’d been face down during the massage so that Holly had been unable to see the look of pleasure on his face, as he wasn’t sure how appropriate that would have been, under the circumstances. Glancing at his watch, he was relieved to see that he’d only been asleep for half an hour or so. Hopefully he hadn’t put Holly out too much.

  As he exited the treatment room, he noticed the lights were out in the shop, and that the only illumination was coming from a couple of thick altar candles that had been placed in dishes on the shop counter. The music had changed from the Celtic-sounding melodies to something that sounded a little more Eastern mystical, and as Charlie cast his eyes around for Holly, it took him a moment to realise that she was curled up with her legs folded under her in a yoga position; child’s pose, he seemed to remember it being called, courtesy of an ex-girlfriend who was a yoga convert.

  Charlie padded out across the shop floor, not wanting to disturb Holly in the middle of her routine. As he drew closer to her, she straightened up to a sitting position and raised her long, shapely arms in the air, palms flat and together, before bringing her hands down in front of her. From where he was, behind her, Charlie was struck once again by the beautiful contrast of brilliant red hair, somewhat subdued in the candlelight, roughly plaited and tumbling over her back to just below her bra line, which he could see through her vest top when she stretched her arms. He felt a sharp sting of longing spiralling downwards into his abdomen as he saw the sweeping curve of her waist and hips, and the outline of one full, rounded breast as she turned slightly to one side. She was utterly, completely gorgeous; not just in this light but in any light.

  Clearing his throat, as much as to dislodge the sudden dryness that seeing Holly like this had created as to announce his presence, he spoke, hoping that his voice wouldn’t betray the sudden sting of arousal that he felt. ‘Um… I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting.’

  Holly took a moment to complete her yoga pose, bowing her head to her chest, which again made Charlie’s heart skip a beat as her plait flopped forward to reveal an elegant, swanlike neck, strangely vulnerable against the red hair. She then swung her legs around and stood up, turning around to face him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said softly. ‘I was going to do some yoga tonight anyway. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Great,’ Charlie replied, caught off guard by the light reflecting in her hazel eyes. ‘Thirsty, though. Is that normal?’

  ‘Yes, completely,’ Holly replied. She gestured to the jug of water on the shop counter. ‘Help yourself to some if you like.’

  Charlie grabbed the glass by the jug and poured himself some more. Downing it swiftly, he relished the coolness, hoping it would help to cool the unbidden thoughts about Holly herself.

  ‘Well, you should sleep well tonight,’ Holly said. ‘Although, don’t go running any marathons for a couple of days; the toxins will be working their way out of you for forty-eight hours or so. And drink plenty more water.’

  ‘I will,’
Charlie replied, thinking that Holly’s hands must truly be magic if they were able to relax him so much. He hoped he didn’t end up dreaming about her tonight, though. That might make things awkward between them again. He felt as though their relationship was a little easier now than it had been when he’d introduced himself to her in the shop a few weeks ago, and he wanted to keep it that way. ‘So how much do I owe you for the oil and the massage?’ he asked, aware that time was marching on and he should leave Holly to the rest of her evening.

  ‘If you’d like to book in for another one, then this one’s on the house,’ Holly said.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Charlie asked. ‘I mean, I don’t want to leave you out of pocket.’

  ‘It’s something I offer my customers if I think they might give me the repeat business,’ Holly said. ‘And, from the feel of your shoulders and neck, it would be a great idea to schedule a massage at least once a month or so.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Charlie replied. ‘That’s if you’re sure you don’t want anything for this one?’

  Holly shook her head. ‘Once I get you hooked, you’ll be booking in a session every week!’

  ‘I don’t doubt that,’ Charlie said, although inwardly he wondered if he’d cope with Holly putting her magical hands on him that regularly without wanting to pull her down on the massage table and kiss the life out of her. But that was probably the oil and the massage talking. If he couldn’t even get a massage from someone without thinking sexy thoughts about them, he was clearly far more buttoned-up than he realised. ‘Thanks again, Holly.’

  ‘Any time.’

  Holly walked over to the front door of the shop and unlocked it, allowing him to step through.

  What would the Prime Minister, the leader of his party, think if they could see him stepping out of a shop like ComIncense with an untucked shirt and a relaxed grin on his face? Or, worse, his own mother? Kathleen Thorpe wasn’t exactly what you’d call progressive in her attitudes – political or otherwise. An old-school conservative, she viewed Charlie’s more liberal views with genteel disdain.

  Grinning even more widely, he said goodnight to Holly and set his mind to the rather more mundane task of what he was going to eat tonight. Sadly, he thought, after all of the talk about releasing toxins from his body, he’d probably end up with some sort of takeaway, as he felt far too chilled to bother cooking. His new job had taken him to some interesting places so far, but Holly’s massage table was definitely one of the nicest. Resolving to book in another massage that he was actually going to pay for, he headed home.

  10

  ‘So, I had that Charlie Thorpe on my massage table last night,’ Holly said playfully as she handed Rachel the folded-up T-shirts she’d been taking off the washing line in Rachel’s neat back garden. Rachel was housebound with Harry for a few days, as his stomach was playing up. Tummy troubles were a symptom of his condition, and while he was, on the whole, a healthy, happy little boy, apart from the obvious, when he did have a health wobble, it tended to put the brakes on family fun. As a result, Rachel was going slightly stir-crazy in her house in one of Willowbury’s modern new-build cul-de-sacs, so Holly had shut up shop and headed over to the house, picking up an easy dinner for her and Rachel on the way.

  ‘Oh really?’ Rachel raised a wry eyebrow. ‘Isn’t there some sort of practitioner-client confidentiality involved in massage? Should you really be telling me that?’

  Holly grinned. ‘I trust your absolute discretion, of course!’

  ‘So, what you’re telling me is that he’s only been in the area a few weeks and you’ve already got his kit off? You’re a fast mover these days, sis.’

  Holly flung one of Harry’s vests at her sister. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said. ‘Besides, it’s weird enough seeing him around, let alone actually seeing him with his shirt off.’ Realising she might have said too much, she grabbed some more washing off the line and concentrated on folding.

  ‘Why’s it weird?’ Rachel’s brow furrowed. ‘I mean, apart from him being the new MP, of course. But you met enough of them in your days as a student party member not to be freaked out by that.’

  Holly paused. She’d made it clear to her mother that she didn’t want the information that she’d met Charlie before being shared, but she trusted Rachel, and apart from a little good-natured ribbing, her sister could be relied upon not to broadcast it to all and sundry. Rachel had teased her, often, about how much the previously strait-laced Holly had loosened her stays over the years, and perhaps she should know that there was a small, missing puzzle piece now that Charlie Thorpe had rocked up in Willowbury.

  ‘So, Mum gave me back a suitcase from their loft the other day,’ Holly said, trying to inject a casual tone into her speech. ‘And it turns out that, according to some very old photos, and you’ll never believe this, me and Charlie have actually met before.’

  ‘Really?’ Rachel paused in her own folding. Glancing to where Harry was playing contentedly with the toys in his tabletop sandpit, making sure he wasn’t up to no good, she looked questioningly at Holly. ‘When? And I’m hoping you don’t mean in a past life or something, because that’s not something I, personally, can buy into!’

  ‘Oh, ha-ha,’ Holly threw a line-dried flannel at her sister, who caught it, folded it and popped it on her own pile of washing. ‘You remember that conference I went to in my first year at university? When I was still really into party politics.’

  Rachel snorted. ‘Party line doesn’t even begin to cover it! That old boyfriend of yours from school has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Holly said. ‘Let’s not go down that road.’ She placed the clothes she had folded into Rachel’s washing basket. ‘Anyway, it turns out that I met Charlie at that conference… and I, er, well… that’s to say we…’

  ‘Oh my God, you didn’t shag him?’ Rachel’s jaw hit the floor. ‘But you were in the no-sex-before-marriage brigade back then, too! That’s basically why Simon dumped you during your A Levels!’

  Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Chill out, sis. I didn’t shag him.’ And, stung, even after all these years, she couldn’t help adding, ‘And Simon didn’t dump me because of that. We made each other bloody miserable for a whole bunch of other, teenage-angst-related reasons, not sex!’

  ‘So why did he end up going out with Chantelle the village slapper straight after you, then?’ Rachel teased.

  ‘Ask him,’ Holly replied tartly. ‘But the fact is, Charlie and I have met before. And we kissed a little bit back then. And, to be honest, I’m feeling a bit weird about it.’

  ‘Does he remember you?’ Rachel asked, as, washing all off the line, she slumped down into one of her garden lounge chairs.

  Holly shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I mean, he’d have said something by now if he did, surely.’

  ‘Perhaps he just feels a bit awkward bringing it up,’ Rachel said. ‘I mean, you haven’t said anything to him yet, have you?’

  Holly shook her head. ‘I feel pretty awkward, too, to be honest. I mean, I’d completely forgotten about him until I found a photo of him in that suitcase.’ She didn’t add that she wasn’t that keen to revisit the dorkier elements of her teenage years – she was definitely a different person then to the one she was now.

  ‘So, are you going to say anything?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Holly put her head back on the sun lounger she’d sat down on, lifting her ponytail to get some air to her suddenly sweaty neck. ‘It was such a brief encounter, it hardly seems worth it. And yet, it’s making me feel a bit weird that I remember it and I don’t know if he does.’

  ‘Just ask him, then!’ Rachel said. She smiled as Harry came trotting up to her carrying a small, castle-shaped bucket full of play sand. ‘One thing being mother to this munchkin has taught me is that you need to seize the day whenever you can. No point hiding behind things that are worrying you.’ She took the plastic spoon that Harry was offering her and pretended to take a big mou
thful of the sand. ‘Mmm, that’s lovely. Is it chocolate?’

  Harry giggled. ‘No, Mummy!’ He toddled around to Holly. ‘Aunty Holly want some?’

  ‘Thanks, gorgeous,’ Holly said, taking the spoon and doing the same. Looking at Harry’s sweet, open face, she realised exactly where Rachel’s carpe diem advice was coming from. Not a day was wasted in Harry’s life; they were all too precious. ‘Perhaps I will,’ Holly mused. ‘But, in the meantime, don’t mention it to him, if you see him, will you? I’ll do it in my own time.’

  ‘I’ll be the soul of discretion,’ Rachel assured her. ‘So long as you give me all the gory details when you do tell him!’

  ‘He’ll probably just laugh in my face,’ Holly said. ‘After all, it was fifteen years ago, and only a couple of hours of our lives. Not exactly the love affair of the century!’

  ‘You never know,’ Rachel said. ‘He seems nothing if not polite, from what I’ve seen of him in the media. I’m sure he’ll be tickled to be reminded.’ She gave Holly a mischievous look. ‘And since you’ve already got your hands on him on your massage bed, it seems only fair to mention your prior connection!’

  Holly felt her face flushing, and it wasn’t entirely because of the warmth of the afternoon. ‘If the moment arises, I’ll drop it into conversation,’ she said. ‘But for the moment, I’d better head off. I’ve got Harriet Meadows coming in for another massage this afternoon.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ Rachel snorted. ‘Tell me, does she stop moaning long enough to enjoy it?’

  ‘Only when she falls asleep but then she doesn’t stop snoring – though, of course, you haven’t heard that from me!’ Holly laughed. She pulled Harry up onto her knee and gave him a cuddle. ‘Look after Mum for me until next time,’ she said into his thick blond hair.