Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (20 page)

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Authors: Abby Clements

Tags: #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
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Patrick had come to pick her up at seven, just as she had finished applying her eyeliner and putting the finishing touches to her outfit: a simple black sweater dress that set off her glossy bob, accessorised with chunky silver bracelets. When she opened the front door Patrick gazed at her admiringly. ‘Hi,’ he said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. She took in the faint smell of aftershave. ‘You look gorgeous. It’s a shame you’re going to have to pile on the layers. Have you seen it?’ He looked around and Laurie saw that snow was falling in heavy flakes.

With a little slipping and sliding along the way they’d arrived at the pub and Patrick ordered them in some mulled wine, finding them a quiet, candlelit table in the corner. She’d taken a sip of the warm drink and feeling had started to return to her fingers. The pub was full, with locals crowding around the bar, fairy lights twinkling above it and Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ playing out over the speakers.

‘I’d chuck you 50p,’ Laurie said, imagining Patrick with a Santa beard. He’d probably still look pretty hot.

‘Is that all?’ he protested, laughing. ‘I’m clearly going to have to up my game then. Maybe I could moonlight in the evenings as an elf to double the donations?’

‘Too tall,’ Laurie said. ‘Such a shame I’ll probably be back in London by then – otherwise obviously I’d be the first to offer my assistance.’

Laurie kept having to remind herself that she hardly knew Patrick. She normally felt so awkward on dates, searching around for something to say – but with Patrick it was easy. She felt really relaxed in his company.

‘But seeing as you’ve got a bit of bulking up to do for your role,’ she said, grabbing a pub menu from the side, ‘shall we get some food? I’m starving.’ Her appetite was starting to return – since she’d been in Skipley, she’d started enjoying food again.

‘A woman after my own heart,’ Patrick said.

As they got up to go to the bar to order, Laurie instinctively picked up her handbag and phone and took them with her.

‘It’s OK to leave your stuff, you know.’ Patrick smiled.

‘Oh,’ Laurie said, quickly scanning the room. Admittedly the potential robbers were limited. In fact, wasn’t that Ben, the teenager from the café, over by the jukebox? She was pretty sure he wasn’t a criminal. He looked up and acknowledged her with a nod.

She put her things back down on the bench and went with Patrick to order. She shrugged. ‘City habits die hard.’

The landlord’s expression was kind and welcoming. He was in his mid-fifties, with greying hair and a slight ruddiness to his cheeks. ‘I’ve seen you around, I think,’ he said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘This is Laurie,’ Patrick said, before she could answer. ‘She’s staying in Hawthorne Cottage. Laurie, this is Graham.’

As Laurie reached her hand out to shake Graham’s, a sheepdog dashed towards her, snuffling energetically at her feet and legs. ‘Wahhhey,’ she said as the dog nudged the back of her knees with his nose and nearly knocked her off balance. She clutched on to Patrick’s arm to steady herself.

‘And this,’ Patrick said, bending down to ruffle the dog’s fur and getting covered in licks in the process, ‘is Gadget.’

‘Been here in the pub since he was just a puppy,’ Graham said to Laurie, ‘he wouldn’t be without the company. Loves people, he does. He thinks he’s human, really.’

Gadget let out a little bark of confirmation, then snuffled around Patrick’s ear.

‘Anyway,’ Patrick laughed, ‘where was I? Kitchen’s open, isn’t it? Lasagne, and what did you fancy, Laurie?’

Laurie thought for a moment of her usual diet in London – sushi, Diet cola. ‘Same for me,’ she said.

When Graham came to take away their empty plates, Laurie was well on her way to merry. ‘That was lovely,’ she said to Graham, leaning back into the worn velvet seat. ‘Thank you.’

‘So tell me,’ Patrick said, as Graham walked away. ‘What’s a woman like you doing in a place like Skipley?’

Laurie smiled. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I suppose everyone needs a break from their life once in a while.’

She took a sip of her drink. ‘What’s your excuse, Patrick? Are you from here?’

‘From the village? No,’ Patrick said. ‘It’s a long story.’

‘And we’re in a hurry?’ Laurie glanced up at the clock and realised it didn’t even matter what time it was. There was no reason to rush in Skipley.

‘OK,’ he took a sip of his drink and shifted in his seat. ‘I’m from an even smaller village, if you can believe it, just down the train line, you probably passed it on the way in. Just a couple of houses and a corner shop. I applied for a job in a bank in Leeds and got it, so I moved. The money was good – I had my own flat and life, friends over there.’

Laurie raised an eyebrow. ‘It sounds like you had it made. So what changed, what brought you …?’

‘Jack,’ Patrick said.

Oh no. He’s gay, Laurie thought, her heart sinking. No wonder. It had all seemed far too perfect.

Patrick must have clocked her disappointed expression, as he quickly filled in the gap. ‘My brother. Jack’s ten years younger than me but we’ve always got along. He’s chilled, easygoing, funny. Or, at least, he used to be.’ Patrick had a distant look in his eye.

‘With my new job in town I wasn’t seeing him that much, and last year when he was sixteen he went through a break-up that hit him really hard. He started drinking a lot and stopped going out, stopped looking after himself. One night he just disappeared. The police looked for a while, but then just seemed to give up, they said they couldn’t help if he didn’t want to be found. But I knew deep down that he did. That he needed us. So I took some time off work and started looking.’

‘How did you know where to start?’ Laurie asked.

‘I didn’t. He’d fallen out with most of his friends, so there were no leads there. I had a gut feeling he would have come near to where I was, so I started with the inner-city homeless shelters in Leeds.’

‘And …?’ Laurie prompted.

‘I found him,’ Patrick said. ‘In the shelter Andy runs now. It wasn’t a pretty picture, Jack had been drinking heavily and sleeping rough for weeks – but he was safe, thank God. Andy helped us get access to a support programme for Jack – it took a year, but now he’s in his own place and working part-time.’

Patrick paused, took a breath, shook his head slightly at the pain of the memory.

‘And I take it you never went back to the bank?’ Laurie asked.

‘No I didn’t,’ Patrick said, shaking his head. ‘Everything looked a bit different after that.’

‘And do you see Jack much now?’

Graham rang the bell and Patrick turned towards the sound. ‘Looks like it’s last orders already. Shall we have one for the road?’

‘How did that come around so quickly?’ Laurie said, struggling to do up the buttons on her duffel coat. It seemed like just a few minutes after last orders, but the pub had emptied out and Graham had started to drop heavy hints that it was time to go.

Outside the thick snow crunched as Laurie and Patrick stepped in it. In the moonlight the countryside glittered prettily. ‘Walk me home?’ she asked, tipsily.

‘It would be my pleasure,’ Patrick said.

Laurie linked her arm through his. They walked together and he held on tight to her as she clambered over a stile. The physical closeness reminded her of being with Jay, but the only way to dull those memories was to make new ones, she decided. As they neared the cottage Laurie rooted round in her handbag for the key.

‘Come in for a coffee?’ she said. He nodded yes, and she dragged him by the elbow into the cottage, laughing as the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them.

As Patrick turned her around to face him, Laurie’s laughter finally slowed to a stop and the cottage fell silent. His blue eyes burned into hers and her heart raced as he drew her closer. Gently, he kissed her on the mouth. Laurie kissed him back, losing herself in the sensation and pressing her body into his. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but it definitely, definitely felt good.

The phone next to Laurie’s bed rang, breaking into her dream. With her eyes still closed, she scrambled for it and answered with a bleary ‘Yes?’

As she spoke, she opened her eyes and glanced around. Rumpled sheets. A trail of clothing leading up her bed. Oh God. Patrick. She hadn’t. Already?

She wasn’t naked, was she? She glanced under the covers at the Take That T-shirt she was wearing and frowned. It was one of Rachel’s. Perhaps naked would be better.

‘Laurie, darling, it’s me, Mum.’ Her excited voice broke into Laurie’s thoughts.

‘Mum, hi,’ Laurie said, rubbing her eyes and trying to sound more awake than she felt. ‘How are you?’

‘Good, thanks, sweetheart. We are having the most gorgeous spell of hot weather out here, you wouldn’t believe it’s December …’

Laurie brought the duvet up closer around her and squinted at the bright winter sunshine pouring in through the windows. Patrick wasn’t in the bathroom, was he? She sat up to check – no, all clear.

‘Mmm-hmmm,’ Laurie said, only half-listening.

‘Yes, beautiful – warm enough to eat outside, I went with Ana to the square yesterday and we had a lovely lunch there. And how are you, darling, are you having a good break?’

‘Hi. It’s good, Mum, yes. Enjoying it.’

Then Laurie spotted it, a note on the pillow next to her. She quickly scanned the piece of paper.

Morning Laurie
,

Great evening with you. You seem pretty out for the count, so I’m getting a taxi – but let’s do it again sometime?

Patrick. 09234 939384

P.S. A Take That fan? I would never have guessed

Laurie breathed a sigh of relief. So Patrick hadn’t stayed – and somehow, she didn’t seem to have blown it. He wanted to see her again.

‘Mum, listen …’ Laurie said, her head starting to throb with the effects of last night’s wine. ‘I’ve actually just woken up. Is it OK if I call you back later?’

‘Yes, darling, of course.’ Her mum sounded a little hurt. ‘Let’s speak later.’

Laurie approached the morning with her usual Sunday hangover routine: doorsteps of buttered toast, a bath and a copy of
Grazia
, which, thank God, the local newsagent had stocked just for her. As she sank down into the bubbles she thought about Patrick’s note again. Was it really a good idea to call him? Or was she just setting herself up for a fall?

She thought back to the summer, with Jay. But things had changed. With work off the agenda, there was space in her life to care about someone else. She was stronger now.

She wanted to give it a chance. So Patrick wasn’t her usual type – he was younger than her, for starters – but she felt good with him, relaxed. She shampooed her hair and thought back to when Patrick had touched it, recalled the excitement she’d felt. Jay had moved on, and now she was ready to do the same.

CHAPTER
20

 

Tuesday 12th December

‘There’s still no change,’ Rachel said, on the phone to Laurie.

‘Oh God, Rach. I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘It’s pretty tough, seeing Bea like this, it just makes you feel so powerless. All we can do is keep talking to her and hope that somehow she’s listening and getting stronger. Laurie – I’m sorry to have to ask this, but would you mind if we stayed on another week or so, maybe longer?’ Rachel went on, ‘It’s hard to predict exactly when, but until the 20th, maybe? We could book into a hotel after that. It’s just – we want to be here with her.’

‘Of course. Please stay, and take whatever time you need,’ Laurie said. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m just fine up here.’

‘Hi, guys,’ Jay said, putting his head around the door to the living room. Zak looked up from the dinosaurs he was colouring in, and Milly from her homework. ‘Great, nearly a full house,’ Jay said. ‘Now, are you up for a challenge?’

Milly narrowed her eyes, suspicious. ‘What sort of a challenge?’

‘A surprise for Lily,’ Rachel said, taking a seat on the sofa and motioning for Jay to sit down.

‘A surprise!’ Zak said, jumping up.

Jay sat down next to Rachel and Zak perched on the arm of the sofa. ‘Yes. We’re going to fix up her flat and make it beautiful.’

‘Do you remember, Zak,’ Rachel said, ‘how the wallpaper was all peeling off? And the floor?’

‘Yes,’ Zak nodded. ‘Lily was sad about that. I saw her.’

Rachel turned to Milly to explain. ‘The council did some electrics work and haven’t got round to tidying it up yet.’

‘I’ve been trying to get her to let me fix it,’ Jay said. ‘but she keeps insisting there’s no need. Now she’s away for a couple of days, looking after a friend who’s just got out of hospital. I’ve got the keys to her flat – we all keep spares just in case. I’ve had a whipround and everyone in the block has put in some money so that we can get some decent wallpaper for her. I’ve been making some furniture to replace her shelves, so we can get those put in too.’

‘Anyway,’ Jay said. ‘What we really need right now is more hands on deck – and a little interior design expertise. Plus a big, colourful banner to welcome Lily home. Do you think you could help?’

‘Sure,’ Milly said. ‘We can do that, can’t we, Mum?’

Milly, Rachel, Jay and Zak looked around Lily’s kitchen and living room. Milly pointed at the areas of ripped wallpaper. ‘I don’t know if we’ll find an exact match for the sunflower print. It’s really nice, but it looks quite old, doesn’t it? But we could keep some in the alcove, as a feature, and get some new wallpaper in a plain colour, or a print that works with it.’

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