Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Carla Burgess

  ‘The one opposite the shoe shop?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘It’s nice in there. Try the coffee and walnut cake. Enjoy your lunch.’

  ‘Hey, don’t go. How about dinner tonight? Also, I was thinking, would it be okay if I stayed at yours for a few days? I’m fed-up of staying in hotels and I think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’

  I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he was cheeky enough to ask.

  ‘Erm, I don’t know about that, Patrick. I’ll meet you for dinner, but I don’t think you can stay at mine. It would be too awkward.’

  ‘Awkward? Why?’

  I forced a laugh. ‘Patrick! Where shall we meet for dinner?’

  ‘I’ll come to yours. Shall we say seven?’

  My heart stuttered to a stop and I broke out in a cold sweat. Coming to mine? I didn’t want him anywhere near my house. ‘No, how about we meet in town somewhere? By the cross?’

  ‘No, it will be easier to come to yours. See you later.’

  He rang off and I stared straight ahead for a few seconds before rushing to the counter to find Anthony’s business card. I couldn’t believe I’d ever questioned whether I’d turn Patrick in to the police. The lying bastard deserved everything he got. Punching Anthony’s number into my phone, I listened to it ring while Bobbi watched me with huge, anxious eyes from the archway. She’d obviously heard the name Patrick and was wondering what was going on.

  ‘Anthony Bascombe,’ he barked. I hesitated, thrown by his harsh tone.

  ‘Hi, it’s Rachel Jones, from the shop beneath your flat.’

  There was a pause and then he laughed. ‘Hello, Rachel Jones, from the shop beneath my flat. Is that the same Rachel Jones I sent flying about five minutes ago? Are you all right?’

  ‘Patrick phoned,’ I said, quickly. My whole body was shaking and I felt like I was in shock. ‘He’s having lunch in a coffee shop somewhere in the precinct, the one by the shoe shop. He said he wants to have dinner with me and is coming to my house at seven. He can’t come to my house, Anthony, I don’t want him there. He wants to stay. How can he want to stay? I only have one bed! How can he be that cheeky? We’ve been over for months. He can’t just phone me up out of the blue and demand to stay. You’d better bloody arrest him, Anthony, because I don’t want him anywhere near my house.’ Aware that I was ranting like a lunatic and needed to get off the phone so Anthony could do something about Patrick, I stopped talking and sucked in a huge breath instead.

  ‘When did he phone?’

  ‘Just now. I literally hung up on him and phoned you.’

  ‘Did he say the name of the coffee shop?’

  ‘No, I’m sorry, I asked, but he just said it was one in the precinct.’

  ‘Okay. Are you on your own?’

  ‘No, I’m with Bobbi.’

  ‘Good. Sit tight.’

  He rang off and I stared at Bobbi. ‘He’s going to find him.’

  Bobbi looked terrified. ‘Do you think we should close the shop?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘In case he decides to come here before they find him.’

  ‘He won’t come here. He’s got a meeting in half an hour.’

  ‘A meeting? Rachel! The police have been looking for him for weeks. How can he still be having business meetings when he’s been in hiding?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I stared at her for a moment and then went to lock the door. Turning the sign to closed, we went through into the back and locked the back door, too. Bobbi sat down at the table while I paced around the room, looking at my phone every now and then. ‘I don’t know why I’m so anxious,’ I said, fanning my hot face with my hand. ‘It’s not like he’s a serial killer or something. He’d never hurt us. Really, we should just open up and serve some customers.’

  ‘It’s just for a little while,’ Bobbi said, soothingly. ‘I’m sure Anthony will phone any minute to tell you he’s been arrested and then everything can go back to normal.’

  I nodded and looked back at my phone. Still nothing.

  The minutes ticked by. Bobbi made us a cup of tea. A customer rattled the door, making us jump, but moved on quickly to another shop. I felt bad and thought again about reopening, but there was still nothing from Anthony.

  ‘I hope they’ve gone to the right precinct,’ Bobbi said in a small voice.

  I frowned. She was right. There were two shopping precincts. He could be in either one. Also, he was obviously capable of telling massive lies, so just because he said he was in Chester, it didn’t mean he actually was in Chester. He could be somewhere in the Wirral for all I knew, or even in Liverpool or Manchester. My skin prickled and I felt sick. This had to be over soon, didn’t it? It couldn’t stretch on into the night?

  There was a loud knock on the back door. Bobbi and I stared at each other, wide-eyed, and I put my finger to my lips. She nodded. Taking out my phone, I sent a text to Anthony saying someone was at the back door. I felt stupid for telling him. It could be anyone, not just Patrick, but whoever it was knocked again, hard, before jiggling the handle so that the whole door rattled on its hinges.

  ‘Rachel?’ Patrick yelled.

  Bobbi looked at me in alarm and I clutched her hand. ‘Anthony, please come,’ I prayed. ‘Please, please, come.’

  And, as if by magic, I heard the screech of a police siren and then the sound of running footsteps. There were shouts of ‘Stop! Police!’ and a thud against the door as though someone had been forced against it. I closed my eyes tight, willing it to be over.

  ‘Don’t feel bad,’ Bobbi whispered as we listened to the commotion outside. ‘Patrick’s nothing to do with you any more. He should never have come here.’

  I didn’t realise I was crying until I wiped my face and found it was wet. Letting go of Bobbi’s hand, I blew my nose on a tissue and wiped my face. I was sure the police would want to talk to me when they’d done with Patrick and I didn’t want to seem like I sympathised with him. I didn’t at all. I just didn’t want to be caught up in this drama. I didn’t want to be involved in any of this.

  Things seemed to be quietening down outside. Bobbi peered into the shop in time to see the police car take Patrick away and then someone knocked on the back door. ‘Hello? Is anyone in there? This is the police.’

  I opened the door, letting the fresh air and sunlight flood into the back room. I hadn’t realised it had been so dark in there until that moment. A female police officer smiled at us and asked if she could take a statement.

  ‘Of course, come in,’ I said.

  ‘That can’t have been very pleasant for either of you. Are you okay?’ she said, sitting down. ‘It’s a good thing you locked up the shop, isn’t it?’

  ‘That was Bobbi’s idea,’ I said, smiling gratefully at her. ‘I really didn’t think he’d come here. I thought he’d stay in the café.’

  ‘We think he saw one of our uniformed officers and got spooked. He’s been on the run for weeks and it’s all thanks to you that we caught him now. Thank you. Now, this won’t take long and then I’ll be out of your way.’

  We reopened the shop after she’d gone but neither Bobbi nor I really felt like being there. Bobbi looked twitchy and kept glancing at the door every five minutes. The guy from the estate agent’s across the road came over to ask us if we knew what had been going on. I told him the briefest of details, leaving out the bit where Patrick was my ex-fiancé, and he went away, excited to have some gossip to talk about in the pub later on.

  The hour felt later than it actually was and I couldn’t wait to go home and have a bath. It seemed weak to close early, though, when I hadn’t even seen Patrick. I’d stayed hidden in the back while Bobbi watched him being taken away and had no desire to ever see him again as long as I lived. Any regrets I might have had about our relationship not working out had been laid to rest once and for all by the events of today. It had eclipsed any memory of the good times we’d had. Just the though
t of him made me feel sick, and I couldn’t remember what I’d ever seen in him.

  Chapter Nine

  At last, five o’clock rolled around and it was time to close up the shop. Bobbi and I couldn’t wait to get out of there and back home. I insisted on giving her a lift back to her house, even though she protested. It was late-night shopping in the city and the roads were busy. Bobbi sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking out of the window at the crowds on the streets.

  ‘It makes you wonder where people’s money comes from, doesn’t it?’ she said, quietly.

  ‘Credit.’

  ‘Hmm, yeah, you’re probably right.’

  I looked across at her in the darkness of the car. Her face was illuminated by the streetlight next to her.

  ‘I’m sorry about today, Bobbi. If there’s any way of making it up to you, you will let me know, won’t you?’

  ‘It’s fine, Rachel. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘You’ve been awfully quiet, though.’

  ‘So have you.’

  I sighed, heavily. ‘It was a bit scary, wasn’t it?’

  Bobbi was silent for a few minutes, chewing her lip. ‘I just kept thinking, if anything happens to me, what would happen to my brother? I’m all he has right now and life’s pretty shit. If anything happened to me, he’d end up in care or something.’

  I looked across at her. ‘Why? What’s wrong with your mum?’

  Bobbi shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ‘She had a breakdown two months ago and… well, she’s not well, let’s just say.’

  ‘A breakdown? Why?’

  Bobbi sighed. ‘I think it started when Gran died last year. And then the college reduced her hours and she started worrying about bills. My brother got in trouble at school and her boyfriend left and it all got too much for her and one day she just couldn’t get out of bed. So now she’s not working at all. And we owe money on bills and we’re behind with the rent and I just can’t keep up with anything.’ She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. I stared across at her in disbelief.

  ‘But Bobbi, why didn’t you tell us? You shouldn’t have to shoulder all this responsibility on your own. Are you getting any help?’

  She cleared her throat. ‘Mum’s going to be able to get some disability allowance while she’s not working, but it’s been delayed.’

  ‘I meant emotional help. Friends and family, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Our next-door neighbour’s been amazing. My brother goes to her after school. She’s got a son about the same age so that’s worked out all right. And Mum’s best friend comes and helps clean and stuff. She’s been great.’

  ‘Are you behind on all of your bills? Are they threatening to cut your electricity off?’

  ‘Not any more. I’m almost up-to-date with the rent, and the electricity and gas are sorted.’

  ‘So, you’re paying for everything?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I bet that’s difficult on your wages. We don’t pay you much.’

  ‘At least you pay me! Anything’s better than nothing.’

  ‘What about your brother? How’s he doing?’

  ‘He doesn’t say much but I think it’s hard for him. He’s only twelve and all his mates are wearing the latest brands and expensive trainers and stuff. He’s pretty good about it, though, to be fair.’

  ‘Has your mum been ill like this before?’

  ‘I remember going to live with Gran when I was little, after Dad left. And, apparently, she was bad when she was first diagnosed, but generally she been coping well.’ She looked across at me. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you? I hate people knowing.’

  ‘There’s no shame in it, Bobbi. People can’t help if they don’t know what you’re going through.’

  ‘I know, but…’ Bobbi shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘It’s hard.’

  I nodded. ‘I know it is. If I can help in any way, you will tell me, won’t you?’

  She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  We drew up outside her house and I looked up at the windows, all in darkness. I thought about her mother, all alone inside, and shivered. The house next door had the lights up bright and I hoped her brother was inside, hanging out with his mate.

  I felt drained of energy as I drove back home. It had been one thing after another all day and I couldn’t wait to get into bed and have today over with. But even after everything that had happened, my thoughts still kept returning to Anthony. What was he doing now? Would he be the one to interview Patrick? Was he still at the station? He’d probably be happy with the way things had turned out. I wondered why he’d been so convinced Patrick would come back to me and that I was somehow key to finding him. Maybe I was his last hope. I was pretty sure I’d be seeing less of him now he’d caught him. Which was a relief, obviously. I needed time away from him to get him out of my head. There was no point yearning for someone you couldn’t have.

  I went home and had a bath, then went straight to bed. I was just drifting off to sleep when my phone vibrated on the stand next to me. Rolling over, I looked at the number on the display. Even though I hadn’t assigned Anthony a contact, I was pretty sure that was his number.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, Rachel, this is Anthony Bascombe from the flat above your shop.’

  ‘Would that be Detective Inspector Anthony Bascombe by any chance?’

  ‘Ah, you remember me then?’

  ‘Certainly do. You’re the guy who knocked me on my arse earlier.’

  ‘That’s the one. Are you okay now?’

  ‘A bit bruised and sore, but I’ll live. I expect you’re pretty pleased with yourself, anyway. Getting your man and all that?’

  ‘Ah, well, I don’t like to brag, but obviously I caught him single-handedly with no help from anyone else whatsoever.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  He chuckled. ‘Thank you, Rachel. We’d never have got him without you.’

  ‘Never? Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Well, maybe not never, but you certainly helped us a great deal. And I know it must have cost you dearly to have informed on him like that.’

  ‘I think we covered this on Sunday morning, didn’t we? I told you then I had no feelings for him and would phone you immediately. I don’t know why you didn’t believe me.’

  ‘It must have been difficult, though.’

  ‘It was a bit traumatic when he was banging on the back door of the shop, but you guys arrived so it was all good.’

  ‘I should have told you to use my flat. You have the spare key still, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ll remember that next time one of my criminal ex-boyfriends comes round.’

  ‘Are there more?’

  ‘Ooh, hundreds.’

  He laughed. ‘So, I guess I need to take you out to thank you.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  I bit my lips as pleasure flooded through me. ‘You don’t have to do that, Anthony.’

  ‘I want to. Where do you want to go?’

  ‘To the forest to get a Christmas tree?’

  He laughed. ‘Okay then.’

  ‘Okay? But you hate Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, so that was a test, was it? Yes, I hate Christmas, but I don’t mind taking you to get a tree.’

  ‘Really?’ I smiled.

  ‘Anything for you, Miss Jones. Would tomorrow evening suit you? After work?’

  I chuckled. He sounded so formal. ‘Tomorrow evening would be perfect.’

  ‘I look forward to it then.’

  Chapter Ten

  It was snowing. I wasn’t quite sure why I was so surprised, seeing as it was winter, but as I stepped out of the shop the following evening and set the alarm, the white flakes falling from the black sky seemed the most magical thing ever. I stared upwards, turning slowly as the flakes floated gently down around me.

  ‘You like snow?’

  I turned to see
Anthony standing on the steps above me. He was leaning on the handrail, smiling down at me.

  ‘Yes.’ I looked up at the snow again. ‘Maybe we’ll get a white Christmas.’

  He nodded slowly and looked up towards the clouds. ‘Are you ready to go?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He slid down the handrail and dropped to the floor next to me, laughing. I laughed at him.

  ‘My goodness, you’re feeling sprightly today. Do you think you’re Fred Astaire or something?’

  ‘I’m just happy that I get to spend my evening with a beautiful woman.’

  I felt my cheeks glow and I laughed, awkwardly. ‘Why, is someone else coming, too?’

  He gave me a look. ‘Just you, Rachel.’

  I could barely speak as I climbed into the passenger seat and did up my seatbelt. I told myself to calm down, but my heart continued to pound and sparks of electricity zinged around my body. I was sure this car hadn’t felt this small the last time I’d been in it; but now his arm seemed so close to mine I could feel its warmth, and the air was full of the scent of his aftershave.

  ‘So, do you want to get something to eat first or shall we just go straight to the forest?’

  ‘I think there’s somewhere to eat at the forest.’

  ‘Like a hot-dog stand?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure we could find a nice pub if we tried.’ He looked across at me, his face illuminated by the headlights of passing cars.

  I smiled happily in the darkness. I’d been waiting for this moment all day. It had seemed like the longest day ever, and now it was happening at last. I hadn’t mentioned it to Bobbi, or Mum, or Elena because I didn’t want it overanalysed. We chatted all the way to the forest but neither one of us mentioned Patrick or what had happened yesterday.

  Anthony turned off the main road and drove down a long, winding, tree-lined road. The trees thickened out into forest as we got further in, and the lane got darker. A sign appeared directing us to the Christmas trees and Anthony turned into the car park and parked up. Getting out, he opened the boot and folded down the back seats so there’d be more room for the tree.

  There were quite a few cars in the car park and couples and families were wandering around, hand in hand, looking at the trees. It smelt wonderful. The cold winter air was filled with the scent of pine forest and Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’ played from speakers in the trees. I hadn’t expected it to be quite this magically festive and I wondered if Anthony would find it difficult, and if it would bring back painful memories of losing his father at Christmas. Maybe I should call it off or suggest he stay in the car? But before I could get my words out, he reached for my hand, his long fingers completely engulfing mine, and started leading me towards the area where they sold the trees.