There was no reply, just the feeling of his strong arms around me again. My mouth opened in anticipation. Talk about random. Luke and I didn’t get on, right? He was big-headed, patronising… Yet, I couldn’t resist his lips, ever so gently teasing mine as my fingers traced the line of his spine.
Adam. I ought to think of Adam. Sensible. Protective. Reassuring. But it was no good, I felt dizzy when Luke and I kissed. And his interest in my business – how Luke took my dreams seriously – was a huge aphrodisiac. Increasingly lately, I’d been asking myself whether Adam was the right man for me. Yes, he offered me all the security I’d never enjoyed as a child, but was that stifling my ambition? I felt so confused and now occasionally questioned the point of my mission to win him back.
With tender confidence, Luke kissed me deeper, and my mind emptied of thoughts about Luton, CountryHouse Potatoes, my latest cupcake recipe, the universe… Like a returning tide, it refilled with nothing but an overpowering, flowing, luxuriating warmth.
As he trailed intense kisses up and down my neck, I let out a gasp. An X-rated Facebook status flashed before my eyes. Walter Carmichael was a gentleman by all accounts. I had to trust his eyes were firmly shut!
Chapter 22
‘Impressive. That is an absolutely enormous willy.’
I grinned at Melissa.
‘For such a small cake,’ she continued, having popped by, just before the prospective buyers were due to arrive. She was ogling the cupcakes I’d made for Saffron’s party. ‘Those glittery pink ones with hearts on are pretty. And are those liquorice whips?’ The corner of her rosebud mouth twitched. ‘So, how did last night go?’ She looked up. ‘Did SpiritShooters find anything? And where’s that whistling coming from…is luscious Luke still here?’
‘Luscious Luke?’
‘Isn’t that what you think of him?’
I turned away to the kettle, so that she couldn’t see me blush. Guilt twisted my stomach, at the thought of that kiss, which was stupid – Adam had broken things off with me, after all. I was single, so had done nothing wrong. Yet that lush snog went against everything I’d strived for in the last few days – namely, winning back my Ex.
Not that the lust stuff had gone further than a bit of lip-on-lip action. Just as I’d thought about Walter watching us last night, Jess had appeared on the landing and headed for the bathroom – the cue for Luke and me to jump apart and go to our own rooms. By the time I’d got up this morning, he and Jess had left. However, Luke came back by nine as promised, which left one hour for us to tidy up.
‘He offered to keep an eye on things whilst the visitors – a Mr and Mrs Stedman – were here.’
‘Uh huh…’ She eyed me closely. ‘Did you two shag?’
‘Melissa!’ I turned around, cheeks hotter than my body had felt, last night, wrapped in Luke’s arms.
She removed her sunglasses and laughed. I was glad to note that her eyes weren’t all blotchy and red. She wore the most gorgeous tangerine orange halter-neck jumper with a tight red skirt, like a kind of sexy Velma out of Scooby Doo. Disappointingly, the snow had melted and turned to slush overnight, hence her funky animal print wellington boots.
‘Only asking,’ she said, and picked up one of the hen party cupcakes. She pulled off the marzipan willy and sucked the end. ‘Must say your hair is perfectly straightened this morning, darling, and I haven’t seen that lacy top before; it could almost pass for genuine vintage. Seems like someone’s trying to make an impression.’
‘Stop it,’ I snorted and grabbed the Tupperware box from her. I re-sealed the lid.
‘Mmm,’ oozed her velvety voice, ‘this is the sweetest di–’
‘I’ll just check that the front garden is looking its best,’ interrupted Luke as his head appeared around the kitchen door. Limp willy between her teeth, Melissa beamed at him. Suddenly obsessed with my nails (okay, freshly painted this morning in a cool purple colour), I examined them closely. His footsteps left and I looked up again. Melissa took the marzipan out of her mouth.
‘You couldn’t look him in the eye, that’s all the evidence I need,’ she said. ‘Come on, tell me everything! What happened last night?’ She peeked under the table. ‘I’m amazed you’re not wearing those shoes I gave you. Talk about dolled up…’
‘I, um, thought I’d better look smart for the Stedmans.’
‘Don’t take me for a fool! Was there a kiss? Something more? He’d be pretty buff with the right clothes and grooming products. I can tell you’re mad for him.’
‘Am not!’ I hissed and swallowed the wrong way which led to a coughing fit. He kissed me, right? I could barely escape. In fact, what a good thing Jess had interrupted us… I sighed. Oh God. Melissa was right. Try as I might, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his skin pressed against mine – about his hands firmly following the curve of my back. Did he really like me or was he arrogantly making the most of what he considered to be my “crush”?
‘By the way,’ I said, ‘SpiritShooters didn’t find a ghost.’
‘Don’t change the subject, Kimmy.’
I pursed my lips.
‘All right.’ Melissa smiled. ‘I get the message – it’s a subject off-limits. So, those guys didn’t exorcise some lost soul or evil demon?’
For one second I had an out-of-body revelation. Here I was, joking with Melissa Winsford, celebrity and DVD queen extraordinaire, as if she were one of the girls at the bakery or any old neighbour. I’d always believed there was something different about anyone who appeared on the telly or in a magazine. However, she was simply a better styled version than the rest of us. She still worried about her man, what the future held and her weight.
In answer to her question, I shook my head. It was just typical that the hooded thing didn’t show up last night. ‘They think someone is playing a joke – or has a grudge against either Mike Murphy or the estate agents. The only strange thing to happen was that a coin moved across a piece of paper and we don’t know how.’ I looked at my watch. Five minutes. ‘What if the house gets messed up again? I know Luke is here, but he can’t keep an eye on every room. And I don’t care what those investigators say – I did see a strange face in that front bedroom, that night.’
Melissa shrugged. ‘I haven’t got to get back, for a while. Jonny’s taking me out to lunch later. Why don’t I stay?’
‘Everything still okay… you know – between you and him?’
‘He’s treating me like a princess.’ Her voice warmed. ‘The spring tournaments will be upon us before we know it, and things are going to get hectic. So, he’s suggested we take a break – get away from it all, beforehand. He’s booked a week in the Maldives.’
‘Wow.’
‘Fab, isn’t it? Usually there’s some hidden agenda, like our honeymoon in Bali where our hotel just happened to be next to the most amazingly scenic golf courses. There was the time we went to Sri Lanka… That course even had a steam train running through it. The worst was our trip to Southern Australia where he’d promised to only play one round of golf. Little did I know he’d chosen the longest course in the world which, at eight hundred and fifty miles, took most of the holiday to play. He’s sworn that the only strokes he’ll be interested in on this holiday belong to his hand rubbing sun cream all over my back.’ She beamed. ‘So. I’m in a good mood. Let me hang around with Luke. I’ll keep an eye on all the rooms– make myself indiscreet, guarantee nothing disastrous happens…’
‘This place still doesn’t spook you?’
‘I’m the youngest of five children. When you’ve spent your childhood being teased and having practical jokes played on you twenty-four seven, it takes a lot to make you jump as an adult. It was good training for the celebrity life. Really, I should be used to no privacy.’ She opened her huge crocodile handbag. ‘Before I forget… Give that to Jess. I… don’t think I’ll need it for a while.’
I took the book. ‘A Guide to Pregnancy.’
She adjusted her top. ‘I guess Jonny and
me, we need to work on our relationship first, before…’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m just lucky to have him.’
The doorbell chimed and I hurried into the hallway.
‘Chill! It’ll go fine,’ Melissa called after me.
I opened the door. It was a middle-aged couple. Where on earth was Luke? Hopefully he’d keep Groucho from barking, as I’d locked him out in case the prospective buyers didn’t like dogs. The woman held out her hand. I shook it, and then the man’s.
‘Do come in. My name’s Kimmy.’ I stood back. They both gasped at the magnificent chandelier. This was a good start. In fact everything went as well as it could, whilst they explored downstairs. The man – Mr Stedman – loved the Games Room and teased his wife that she’d never get him out of there. She fell in love with the kitchen and hot tub, whilst they both cooed over the summerhouse. Recently they’d come into an inheritance and had five year old twins. I could tell they thought Mistletoe Mansion and its location were perfect. As we went upstairs I crossed my fingers, as Melissa paced up and down the landing. I had a good feeling about this couple. Sad as I’d be to leave, maybe I was getting near to selling this place; completing the task I was set, being responsible.
Because I still wanted to impress Adam. Definitely. Snogging Luke didn’t mean a thing. It had nothing to do with the extra care I took to shave my bikini line this morning; nothing to do with me getting up extra early to jog around the garden.
‘Where’s Luke?’ I hissed to Melissa, as the Stedmans explored the mint bathroom. I’d introduced her and they’d chatted briefly about the tranquillity of Badgers Chase. Poor them. They’d be in for a shock living here with all the long lenses and dodgy-looking journos.
‘No idea,’ Melissa said and sniffed. ‘Just as well I’m here. I think we’ve got a bit of a problem.’
That familiar sweet smell wafted into my nostrils. Oh God. I shivered. Smoke drifted down the landing towards my bedroom. And there was that wind rushing sound.
‘Leave this to me,’ whispered Melissa. ‘You keep them the other side of the landing as long as you can.’
She teetered along to the bedroom at the front and rattled the door. It was locked. I smiled nervously at the Stedmans and bundled them back into the bathroom. I managed to talk for a couple of minutes about the bidet and they were well impressed with the waterproof telly. Then I walked them along to the office. What was Melissa doing?
Tentatively, I entered the office, in my high shoes. Phew. No knocked over chairs or scattered papers like the time Deborah was here. I glanced at the laptop and swore I’d update my Facebook status that afternoon. Plus Ashton Kutcher might have noticed my absence on Twitter.
‘Um… back in a minute…’ I said. ‘Do look out of the window. From up here, you’ll see just how magnificent the back garden is.’
I strolled out of the room and then darted to Melissa. She was bending over, hairpin in the keyhole, jiggling the door handle.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’ I asked.
‘My older sisters used to lock me in my bedroom for a joke. We moved house a lot. I learnt to pick lots of different types of locks. There.’ She stood up and replaced the pin into her swept up blonde hair. ‘After you,’ she said. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Melissa followed me in. Wow. There were paintings, random bits of furniture, a couple of sets of golf clubs and sheets draped over various items – a large ceramic plant stand by the looks of it and a fancy-looking needle box. I picked up a glass swan and ran my hand along its contours. There was an intricately engraved cutlery set, a knitting machine and a gorgeous purple upholstered rocking chair. I could see why Luke was protective of these rooms. Walter and Lily had some really posh stuff.
‘Well, there’s no bogeyman in here,’ I muttered, minutes later. What an anti-climax. ‘Come on. I’d better get back to the Stedmans.’
But Melissa stared at the far wall which backed onto my bedroom. ‘Something moved,’ she mouthed and put a finger to her lips. She slipped off her squeaky rubber boots and tiptoed over, picking up the glass swan on her way as she navigated various objects. Finally she stopped. We looked at each other, as her hand was poised over a sheet. She brandished the swan and in one swift move, yanked the material away, like a magician revealing a rabbit.
‘Luke?’ I raised my eyebrows. He was no rabbit, but certainly looked as if he’d been caught in the headlights.
He stood up. ‘Um… Hi. I thought I smelt smoke, so I came in here to have a look.’
‘Why lock yourself in?’ said Melissa, the glass swan now by her side.
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘If, um, there was anyone in here, I didn’t want them to escape and cause you lot trouble.’
‘Why not let us know you were here, when you heard our voices?’ I said, an uneasiness stirring in my stomach. I made my way over, any awkwardness about last night forgotten. I bent down behind him but he pulled me back up.
‘No! Don’t look there! I mean… I knocked something over. There’s broken glass. You might hurt yourself.’
But flexible Melissa had already ducked behind his legs. She pulled out what looked like a cross between a fan heater and a huge old-fashioned camcorder. She examined it for a moment and then straightened up. Her generously mascara-ed eyes narrowed.
‘I used one of these for a party once,’ she said. ‘It’s a smoke machine.’
Something else caught my eye. I moved another sheet, near to me. Underneath was a CD player. I pressed “play”. The spooky wind-rushing noise swept around the room.
‘You?’ I said to him. ‘The face in the window? The hooded figure? No wonder you’ve not taken long to get here every time I’ve called for help. You’ve already been in the house!’ My stomach churned.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Anyone could have set this up.’
‘You’ve got the keys to get in,’ I said, a waver in my voice. ‘Haven’t you at least got the guts to own up?’
‘It’s not like that,’ said Luke and reached out to touch me. ‘Let me explain.’
I shook him off.
‘Helloooo?’ called a voice from the landing.
‘It’s all right,’ said Melissa. ‘I’ll finish the viewing – they’ve nearly seen everything by now, right?’
‘Yes.’ I mumbled, without moving my gaze from Luke’s face as I heard her pick up her boots and leave the room. Tears pricked my eyes and a wave of nausea backed up my throat. Walter. The thuds. The White Christmas music – no doubt that was his idea of a joke as well. How could I have been so stupid? I glanced down. How ridiculous I was, with my lacy top, poker-straight hair and glossy nails. Fancy going to all that effort for such a slimeball.
‘Why do this?’ I said. ‘Why don’t you want the house to sell? The locked doors, turning the lights off… Did you think it was funny?’
‘No. I–’
‘All week this has been going on. Right from the first day I got here. Last Saturday night, the spooky face in the window – you did that? How? Just dumped the dressmaking doll in your car and then let yourself back in to Mistletoe Mansion and waited for me to come back from walking Groucho?’ Heart racing now, I headed for the window, lifting up sheet after sheet, rummaging through boxes. Something fell onto the ground and smashed. It was a glass dolphin.
‘Stop!’ shouted Luke. ‘Don’t damage Walter and Lily’s stuff.’ He strode over. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll show you.’ He reached behind the curtain and pulled out a circle of tracing paper. It had two eye shapes drawn on it and a mouth and nose. ‘Light this up with a torch behind it,’ he said, in a quiet voice, ‘and–’
My hands flew up to cover my eyes. I’d been a prize idiot. ‘Then the next day, when you were over to mend the chandelier and my dripping shower – you never went home, did you?’ I took my hands away from my face. ‘The smoke, locking me in, you must have pretended to leave and instead gone right upstairs and into the front room, whilst I
was still in the kitchen, and waited for me to come up.’
‘I’ll do anything to stop this place selling, Kimmy.’
‘And that evening you stayed over,’ I continued, running over the last week, hardly listening to his mutterings. ‘… You were the hooded figure who grabbed my leg on the bed.’ My voice wavered. ‘You scared the shit out of me, you bastard.’
‘As I told you before, none of this is personal.’
‘Oh, here we go with the cryptic comments again. Have you any idea how stupid I feel? All the conversations I’ve had with Walter – you thudding out the replies, treating me like some imbecile, playing me Bing Crosby music, shooting gusts of cold air. I bet you nearly died with laughter.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What thuds and music? I haven’t heard you say anything to Walter.’
‘Oh, please! Next you’ll be telling me that it wasn’t you who messed up the house when the last viewers came round.’
His eyes widened. ‘No. All I’ve tried to do is scare off the housesitters. A couple have been really untidy, letting Deborah down at viewings. I just assumed that the mess this week, well… was your fault.’
‘Stop lying!’
‘I’m not! And it’s not a criticism,’ he said in an exasperated voice. ‘I’m not the most orderly of people, myself. That’s why I was originally asked to move out, at the beginning, because I never kept the place smart enough.’
‘And what about the night before last,’ I continued. ‘When Terry and Melissa were here? You pushed me into the cupboard.’
‘I… didn’t mean to hurt you,’ he reached out to touch my cheek, but I stepped back.
‘And you scratched that desk,’ I said, my voice breaking.
‘It was old. Walter wouldn’t have minded.’
‘And last night? That coin?’
‘I moved it with a snooker cue.’
‘Why didn’t you do more? Make the pictures crooked again? Throw my make-up against the walls?’
‘What are you talking about?’ he muttered. ‘The smoke, the windy noise, locking the doors, turning out the lights – yes, okay, hands up. But I told you – I’ve never messed up the rooms. And as for last night, I kind of got distracted.’
Mistletoe Mansion Page 23