Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

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Meet Me Under the Mistletoe Page 12

by Carla Burgess


  I shook my head and boiled the kettle again. Taking down two mugs, I poured the water onto two teabags and splashed in some milk.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, accepting it from me. We stood for a moment in the kitchen, then I walked slowly into the lounge and sat down on the sofa. Anthony followed and leaned on the doorpost. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, after another few minutes of silence. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. It wasn’t my place to say.’

  I shrugged. ‘You wanted to make sure I’d turn him in. I get that. The sad thing is, I would always have turned him in. Not that I’ll need to, because he’s not going to come here, anyway. You’re wasting your time on me, Anthony. You think I’m a pawn in your game of hide-and-seek with Patrick, but the reality is I don’t have any part to play.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re a pawn, Rachel, and I really hope you’re right. As much as I want to find him, I hope he doesn’t come here. The truth is, I don’t want him anywhere near you.’ He sat down next to me on the sofa. Placing his mug on the coffee table, he rubbed his hands through his hair and inhaled deeply. ‘You have to understand that we’ve been looking into Patrick’s affairs for some time now. He’s a sleaze bag and the thought of you trusting him and being with him is driving me insane. I’m jealous of him, Rachel.’

  I looked at him and frowned. ‘What do you mean? Jealous of what?’

  ‘Your relationship with Patrick. I can’t bear the thought of you being with him.’

  I shook my head, failing to understand what he was saying. ‘But it’s over now. It’s been over for months’

  He steepled his fingers and covered his nose. ‘I was going through your list of dates and places you’d been with him late last night, and it just got to me. I hated picturing you with him and I hate how you trusted him for so many months. It just… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt like this before.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with me. I feel like I’m going mad.’

  I stared at him, bewildered. Was Anthony saying he cared about me enough to be jealous of my relationship with Patrick? I didn’t dare hope that was the case. ‘But what was on that list that made you think he’d be here this morning?’

  ‘Nothing. Look, I’m sorry. I hardly slept last night and I’ve been thinking too much.’ He picked up his tea and took another sip. ‘But you must have really loved him to say yes to marrying him when you’d spent so little time together. And he must have loved you to have asked. So, I just got to questioning what you’d do if he did show up, and it just went round and round my head all night until it drove me mad.’ He scratched the stubble on his jaw.

  ‘I don’t think Patrick could have loved me, Anthony. Not really. I’ve come to see that engagement ring as a symbol of his wealth and power, not of his love. For a long time, I felt like it was a stamp of ownership. Even before I finished with him. But now I know he was already married, I can see it was him saying “look what I can do – I can have two wives if I want”. He makes me sick. I promise you, I have no divided loyalties where he’s concerned. If he did show up here, I would turn him in immediately. I don’t feel anything for him any more. Whatever it was I felt back then, whether it was love or lust, has gone. You really don’t need to worry I might be harbouring him. And honestly, I don’t believe for a minute that he’s going to appear at my door one day, asking for help. I bet he hasn’t thought about me once since we split up.’

  Anthony was still staring at the floor. He tapped a finger on the side of his mug of tea and then shook his head.

  ‘No, you’re the key to this. I’m certain.’

  ‘Anthony!’

  ‘How could you not be? How could he not want to come back to you? I mean, you’re beautiful and strong and kind and nurturing. You’re the obvious choice of person to run back to. I’d come back to you.’

  ‘You would not!’ I was struggling to believe this was actually happening. ‘You already said you don’t do relationships.’

  ‘Which makes me the perfect judge. If I’d come back to you, a womaniser like Patrick definitely would. You are the last wholesome and pure thing in his dark, sordid little world.’

  ‘Apart from his daughter,’ I pointed out.

  ‘And his son. But they’re at home with their mother and he’ll know his house is under surveillance.’

  ‘Son?’ I stared at him in horrified disbelief. ‘This just gets worse. How old is the son?’

  ‘Just a baby. I’m sorry, Rachel.’

  I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. This felt horrible. How I wished I’d never set eyes on Patrick. Why had I been so eager to believe all the lies he’d told me? Looking back, it seemed so obvious that a man who didn’t answer his phone and could only see me on rare occasions actually had a whole other family. It wasn’t like people hadn’t warned me either. I’d even asked him if he was married when I first met him, and he’d told me he was divorced from the mother of his child. He talked about his daughter all the time, and his love and affection for her was one of the things that made me like him so much in the first place. But what about his son? He’d never mentioned a son. The only explanation was that his wife had been pregnant when he was still seeing me. The thought made me feel sick.

  Anthony sat beside me, waiting patiently for me to speak again.

  ‘You should go,’ I said, at last. ‘You’re meant to be at work, aren’t you?’

  He glanced at his watch and shook his head. ‘I’m all right for a while.’ He was watching me closely, his eyes worried. ‘I feel really bad for upsetting you like this,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry.’ He looked like he wanted to say something else but didn’t know how.

  ‘I don’t know why I feel this upset,’ I said, finally. ‘It’s changes nothing, and yet it changes everything at the same time.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He was probably seeing me while his wife was pregnant. I was the other woman, the mistress, and yet I didn’t even know. I hate the thought of being the cause of someone else’s misery. I feel dirty.’

  ‘This is Patrick’s doing, not yours.’ He passed a hand across his face and groaned. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you, but I thought you should know who he was, just in case you had any romantic ideas about him left.’

  ‘I didn’t have any, any way.’ I sat in stunned silence, feeling cold and sick. My skin prickled with horror.

  ‘Come here,’ he murmured. He put out an arm and pulled me against his chest. I was quiet for a moment, listening to the beat of his heart through the smooth material of his shirt. The sound calmed me and I wrapped my arm around his waist. I didn’t want to hear or think about Patrick any more. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the fresh, clean smell of his shirt and the tangy spice of his aftershave, concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I was no longer angry with him for searching my garden and house. He was good and strong and solid. I didn’t know if I agreed with him describing me as being wholesome and pure, but at that moment I felt like that was what he was. I clung to him, letting his warmth soak into me. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. I feel like a bastard now.’

  ‘No, I needed to know.’ I raised my head to look at him. ‘Thank you for telling me.’

  He held my gaze for a moment and my heart speeded up, thinking he might kiss me. But he shook his head and sighed. ‘I’d better go before I get into more trouble.’ I moved away from him, feeling sad he was going, and he stood up and walked to the back door to put on his shoes.

  ‘Have a good day,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll have a good day when I catch Patrick.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘So, Anthony said he was jealous? Jealous of you and Patrick?’ Elena looked excited and I glanced around the café to make sure no one had overheard. I felt silly discussing it like this. I wasn’t even sure what he’d meant. Sure, I knew he found me attractive, but it seemed like a strange thin
g for Anthony to actually be jealous of my past relationship with Patrick. Still, it was the one positive thing I’d hung on to from that dismal conversation about Patrick’s wife and children. Elena hadn’t been particularly surprised when I’d told her and that had made me feel worse. ‘Well that’s great. He’d better get a move on and catch Patrick then so you two can get it on. Can’t you try and contact him? Set up a bit of a honey trap?’

  ‘Honey trap?’ I winced. ‘I don’t want to get involved in anything like that.’

  ‘You want him caught, don’t you? He’s got it coming. He deserves everything he gets.’

  ‘I know. I do. I just…’ I closed my eyes and sighed. ‘I really can’t stand the thought of seeing him again. I feel so used up.’

  ‘Imagine how his wife feels. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.’ Elena touched my hand and smiled sympathetically. ‘It’s not your fault. You’re not the guilty party here.’

  I shrugged miserably. ‘It doesn’t matter. I was still part of it.’

  ‘You’re only human, Rachel. You loved him. It’s not your fault you believed his lies.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’d better go, anyway,’ I said.

  ‘But we haven’t talked about Anthony enough.’

  I laughed. ‘There’s nothing to say, really. He was tired, I think. This stuff with Patrick’s been driving him mad. I think there’s loads of pressure on to find him. Besides, I haven’t even seen him since Sunday.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I don’t know. His car hasn’t been there.’ I rubbed my forehead, hating the fact that I was longing to see him so much. How could I have fallen for him so quickly?

  ‘I don’t understand why he’s jealous, though. Does he think you still have feelings for Patrick?’

  ‘I think he did, yes.’

  ‘You don’t, though, do you?’

  ‘No. Absolutely not.’

  ‘Good. If you’re ever tempted to think about him fondly, just think about how he stood you up at your mum’s birthday party. Remember your cousin’s smug face when you walked in alone?’

  ‘Yeah. Bitch.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  I sighed. ‘I really don’t have feelings for Patrick, but Anthony got all paranoid that I wouldn’t phone him if he turned up and decided I might be harbouring him. I really don’t understand why he thinks he’s going to come back to me. It’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I hope he doesn’t. That would be so stressful for you.’

  ‘I know.’ I rolled my eyes and picked up my bag. ‘Right, I really must go. I’ll see you soon.’

  Elena sighed and gave me a sympathetic look. ‘Cheer up, Rachel, you’re just having a bad day. Honestly, you are amazing and wonderful and unique. Even today, with your sad face on, you’re the brightest thing in this coffee shop. Look at your hair. Who puts their hair up like that for work? You look like you’re going to a party, while I’m all dark and dowdy. I’ve seen men buy flowers from your shop just so they can talk to you.’

  ‘Oh, rubbish! Who would do that?’

  ‘Mr Garnett.’

  I rolled my eyes at her. Mr Garnett had been coming in our shop every week for years. ‘Mr Garnett is eighty and he buys those flowers for his wife’s grave!’

  ‘He gets a right twinkle in his eye when he sees you, though!’

  ‘Oh, get lost! I have to get back, anyway, so Bobbi can have her lunch. Lovely to see you.’

  ‘Lovely to see you, too.’ She stood up and hugged me. ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you, too.’

  I made my way back to the shop, clutching my coat at the collar as the cold wind sent leaves scuttling up the street. My phone was ringing and I fished it from my bag as I rounded a corner, only to run smack bang into Anthony. The impact was hard enough that I hit his chest with a dull ‘oof’ before falling backwards onto the floor. My phone flew from my grasp as my skirt flew up, and the contents of my bag scattered around me as I hit the concrete. I blinked up at the angry purple clouds in surprise before Anthony’s face loomed into view.

  ‘I’m so sorry! Are you all right? Here, let me help you.’

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ I said, tugging my skirt back down over my thighs before scrambling inelegantly to my feet. Anthony started gathering up my belongings off the pavement and shoving them back in my bag. ‘Thank you,’ I said as he handed it back.

  Anthony shook his head, looking flustered. ‘You’re bleeding.’ He pointed to my hand where blood was dripping from my finger.

  ‘It’s nothing. Just a scratch.’ Mortified, I started to hobble away, fumbling in my pocket for a tissue to stem the flow of blood from my hand. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I’d just shown everyone my knickers and people were staring. Dredging up my last shred of dignity, I limped off as my hair unravelled from the loose chignon I’d put it in this morning.

  ‘Rachel?’

  Please, no. I stopped walking and closed my eyes.

  ‘Your phone.’

  He was holding it out to me, frowning.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’ll walk you back. Here, give me your bag, I’ll carry it.’

  ‘I can manage my handbag, thanks.’

  ‘I feel really bad. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine. Just a bit of a shock, that’s all. And the shop’s literally just here, so there’s really no need to walk me back. Thank you, though.’ I smiled at him, avoiding his eyes as I pulled the rest of the clips from my hair so that it fell around my face instead of being weirdly half up and half down. He was staring at me with such intensity I began to wonder if I had something on my face. I wiped my cheek and chin. ‘So, err, have you arrested Patrick yet?’

  ‘No.’

  There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that so I just nodded and went into the shop. Anthony stayed on the pavement outside for a few moments before walking off up the street. Bobbi looked up from the counter and blinked at me.

  ‘Are you okay? Your face is very red.’

  ‘Great.’ I went into the back of the shop and sat down, wincing as my backside made contact with the hard chair. Bobbi came and stood in the doorway. ‘I’m fine. I just managed to bump into Anthony and fall over in the street, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh no! Are you hurt?’

  ‘Not really, just a bit humiliated by the fact I showed off my pants to the world. But never mind.’

  ‘Even Anthony.’

  ‘Especially Anthony.’

  Bobbi chuckled and then stopped when she saw my face.

  ‘You can go on your dinner now if you want.’

  ‘I was just going to eat my sandwich here so it doesn’t matter. I’ll wait till you’ve recovered if you like?’

  ‘I’m all right now. Sit down and eat.’

  Bobbi went to get her sandwich from the fridge and sat down at the table opposite me. She looked at me curiously. ‘I haven’t seen much of Anthony this week.’

  ‘No, he must be busy,’ I said, flatly. I reached for my phone off the table. By some miracle, the screen was still intact. Opening my missed calls log, I checked the number that had just called me. It wasn’t one I recognised. Placing the phone back on the table, it started to ring again. I deliberated for a moment before answering it, assuming it was a cold caller.

  ‘Hello?’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Rachel?’

  My blood ran cold as I recognised Patrick’s voice and a hundred thousand spikey goosebumps prickled all over my skin. Why was he ringing me? What did he want?

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me.’

  Blood rushed in my ears. Could I just hang up? Pretend to Anthony I’d never heard from him? I glanced across at Bobbi, who was chewing her sandwich slowly, lost in her own thoughts.

  ‘What do you want?’ My breathing was shallow and I fought to control my voice. I didn’t want to speak to him. I hoped he’d mistake fear for suspicion
or anger.

  ‘Can we meet?’

  I got up and wandered into the shop to stand next to the flowers. I felt sick as I gently stroked a finger across the velvety petals of a pink rose. My heart was thudding so loudly I was certain he’d be able to hear it on his end of the phone. ‘Why?’

  He laughed. ‘Baby, don’t be like that. I know you were angry last time we spoke, but you must have forgiven me by now. Haven’t you missed me? I’ve missed you.’ His voice was warm and rich and deep. I’d always thought he’d be great as a voiceover person on adverts and television shows. It used to make me melt, but now I cringed at his insincerity. Every word was a lie. He hadn’t missed me. He probably hadn’t even missed me when we were together.

  ‘Of course I’ve missed you,’ I said as sweetly as I could. I was surprised by how difficult it was to say, and how much I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t missed him. Not for a long time. Even in the first few weeks of breaking up with him, I hadn’t missed him. I’d jumped every time the phone rang because I was hoping it wasn’t him, not because I wanted him to call. I’d been relieved each time it wasn’t. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to sound as friendly as possible. ‘So, how have you been? How’s work?’

  ‘Good, good, thank you. As busy as ever. I’m in Chester, so I was thinking if you were around…’

  ‘You’re here? Whereabouts?’ Spinning round, I stared out of the window. The thought of seeing him standing opposite, watching the shop, made my blood run cold.

  ‘Err, just in a little coffee shop. I’m having some lunch between meetings.’

  ‘Shall I come and meet you?’

  He hesitated. ‘Not right now. I’ve got a conference call to take in half an hour.’

  ‘Really? You’d best find somewhere quiet, it sounds a bit noisy where you are.’ I listened intently to the sounds in the background. ‘What coffee shop are you in? I’ve only just got back from having lunch with Elena. How funny if we’d bumped into each other in the same café.’

  ‘I’m not sure what it’s called, actually. It’s in the precinct.’

 

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