Читать книгу Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection - Джанис Мейнард, Rebecca Winters - Страница 14

Chapter Five

I waited at the door, huddled against the biting wind that was barrelling along the avenue and insinuating itself into every fibre of my body, despite all the layers I’d equipped myself with. A few moments later, Michael opened the door, dressed as usual in his beaten-up jeans and a T-shirt that looked like it had never been introduced to an iron in its entire lifetime.

‘Jesus, you look frozen to the bone. Get in here.’ He reached an arm out and took the bag I was carrying, hurrying me through the door at the same time.

‘It’s so cold out there today!’ I said conversationally as I shed my coat and almost immediately started shivering. I put my coat back on. ‘Actually I think I might keep this on for a bit longer.’

‘I’ll get us some hot drinks. Don’t worry the bedroom is nice and warm.’

I looked up in surprise. And for once, Michael O’Farrell wasn’t wearing that self-assured, confident look. His face showed almost as much surprise as mine.

‘That sounded a lot different from how it was supposed to.’

‘Right.’

‘I just meant that the bedroom – the guest room – you wanted to make a start on today is warm. For us to work in. Work on. Oh, for Christ’s sake. Put me out of my misery, will you?’ His face was equal parts pain and amusement.

I laughed and saw his face relax entirely. It was something that had been happening from a little more the last couple of visits and I was glad of it. I’d hated the tense atmosphere of the first session. It wasn’t only uncomfortable, but it stirred up memories I wanted to keep buried. This slight relaxation in the mood worked much better for me. And I couldn’t help but think it better for Michael too. Don’t get me wrong, we were hardly friends, but for the most part he wasn’t glaring at me and I wasn’t calling him names, so we had definitely moved on a little.

I pulled a couple of items out from under the spare bed. In one hand I held a copy of The Hungry Caterpillar, in the other the tiniest thong I had ever seen.

‘Interesting combination.’ I held them up to Michael.

‘Oh! That’s where it went. My nephew was looking for that.’

‘Not to be judgemental, but I really hope you’re talking about the book.’

He smiled at me. ‘I am.’

I looked at the pants dangling in my other hand, barely held by the minimum portion of fingertip and thumb required.

‘I think the hungry caterpillar may have been at these. They can’t possibly have been that tiny to start with.’ I shifted my eyes to him. ‘I take it these aren’t yours?’

‘No. Not really my colour.’

‘Any idea whose they are? Is she likely to want them back?’

He wrinkled his brow, then tilted his head at them, thinking. I gave an eye roll and shook my head.

‘What?’

‘The fact that you have to think that hard about it!’

‘Oh, don’t be such a prude.’

‘I am not a prude! But neither have I ever left anywhere “sans knickers”. Although frankly they’re so small as to be practically pointless anyway.’

‘I think they were more for effect.’

‘Clearly they had the desired one.’

He tilted his head at me and grinned. ‘Are you jealous?’

‘What? Of course I’m not jealous. Don’t be ridiculous.’

He gave me a look. ‘If you say so.’

‘I most certainly do say so. Now, what do you want to do with these? Will you be seeing her again and able to return them?’

He scrunched his face. ‘Doubt it.’

‘Oh. So you do at least remember who they belong to now? That’s something I suppose.’

‘I thought you said you weren’t going to be judgemental.’

‘I said that about your nephew. Not you.’

‘OK. Then for your records – as you seem to make them for everything – her name was Eva. She’s a Russian model, incredibly beautiful. I had an early morning appointment and she was very snappy that she had to leave early, from what I remember. Apparently not a morning person.’

‘Whereas I’m sure you’re absolutely delightful.’ My tone implied I believed he was probably anything but.

‘I am the epitome of cheer.’

I threw a disbelieving glance.

‘Just bin them. She won’t be calling.’

‘Sure?’

‘Positive. I got the impression she didn’t get turfed out of a man’s bed at 6 a.m. very often.’

‘I imagine not.’

‘In my defence, I had told her about the appointment and that I needed to leave early the following morning.’

‘I guess she didn’t think that applied to her too.’

‘I was hardly going to leave her alone in my house all day. I’d only met her that evening.’

‘And yet deemed that long enough to take her to bed.’

‘It wasn’t like I dragged her here. She came of her own free will.’ His eyes danced with mirth at the double entendre. I flung the pants at him and walked out of the room.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I said, as I hauled some more ‘accumulated items’ out from the wardrobe.

‘I should think so. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer it but you can give it a go.’

I shot him a look that told him what I thought of that reply.

He shrugged. ‘Honest answer,’ he said, disappearing under the bed to unearth whatever treasures lay under there. After the pants incident, we’d decided to swap places.

‘Evasive answer,’ I said, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the higher items. My fingertips brushed them and I took a step back, looking to see if there was a chair I could use. I giggled as my gaze fell on Michael. He was wriggling about under the bed, pulling things out, interspersed with the occasional sneeze. What particularly caught my eye was how nice his bum looked in those jeans. I hadn’t actually noticed before, but it really was –

‘You’ve gone quiet. That makes me suspicious.’ His statement interrupted my thoughts.

‘What?’ I said, blushing and supremely glad he was still wedged under the bed so he couldn’t see.

‘You said you were going to ask a question and then just went silent. Should I be worried?’

‘No. I was just concentrating on…something.’

Which most definitely wasn’t how nice your bum is.

‘Right.’

I removed a pile of jackets from a chair tucked in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the wardrobe. Stepping up, I pulled out the pile of boxes from the top shelf. Turning, I jumped and wobbled as I found Michael stood in front of me.

Automatically, his hands shot out and rested on my waist. ‘Steady on.’

‘Do you have a stealth mode or something? Two seconds ago you were under that bed.’

‘You learn to be quiet in a big family if you want to sneak out when you’re supposed to be grounded.’

‘And I imagine that was probably quite often.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying.’

‘I’m sure you do. Now take these for me, would you?’

He took the pile of items off me and put them down on the floor, along with all the other items we’d so far emptied from storage. I turned back to grab a few more items. Balancing on one leg, I reached up and stretched my fingers to pull the last items towards me. The chair gave a little wobble and I gripped the shelf to steady myself. I heard Michael mutter something under his breath and a moment later, two large hands were on my waist lifting me off the chair. He plonked me down on the floor and waited until I was entirely stable before removing them.

‘Excuse me! I haven’t quite finished!’

‘You’ve definitely finished balancing precariously on chairs in my home. And anywhere else, I hope. You’re going to damn well break something if you keep that up!’

I stood straighter, going into defence mode.

‘In the nearly seven years I’ve been doing this, I have never once broken any possession of any client. So your items are entirely safe, I assure you.’

He screwed up his face for a moment. ‘I’m not talking about possessions. I’m talking about you! I’d really prefer it if you didn’t fall off and break your neck, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘That wasn’t my plan. Besides, I’ve done it hundreds of times. I was perfectly all right.’

He looked down at me, still close from when he’d lifted me off the chair.

‘I don’t care if you’ve done it millions of times. I’d rather you didn’t do it any more.’

‘Some of us aren’t blessed with your height. I need to be able to get to places.’

‘Then use a stepladder! Something made for the purpose that you can hold on to. And don’t overstretch yourself like you were just doing. It’s going to end badly one day if you keep on like that. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.’

I gave a huff. ‘I still need those last few bits out of that wardrobe.’ I pointed to where I’d been a few minutes before. Michael reached up to get the bits I couldn’t, his T-shirt rising up as he did so, exposing the muscles of his lower back, twisting and taut as he felt around for anything left. I really ought to be looking away. Ideally.

Shortly after Janey had sat back down the other night, Michael had wandered off and, moments later, was leaning against a wall, chatting to a blonde that had been eyeing him up since the moment he’d walked in. From the way she’d been leaning into him and touching his arm every few seconds, it was apparent that his pastime of trying to get a reaction out of me had been transferred to his current company – although, admittedly, the reaction he was aiming for, and clearly getting, in that situation was entirely different to the one he aimed for, and annoyingly, usually got, from me. Absentmindedly, I wondered if his current practice of ‘not giving anyone a tour of the house’ might change once it was in a better state. Somehow, I doubted it. The fact that he kept his bedroom so impersonal hinted to me that he had no inclination to show who he really was. And it didn’t look like he was going to give me the chance to suggest how he could make his bedroom more welcoming either, judging by the fact he’d bitten my head off the last time I mentioned it. From what Janey had said, Michael hadn’t always been like this. I guessed that the split with his ex-wife had really made an impact on him – and not for the better.

‘Where are you?’

‘Huh?’ I jumped as Michael’s deep voice drifted into my thoughts.

‘You were miles away.’

‘Umm…’

No, actually I was just at the top of this house, in your bedroom. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to be the best answer.

‘And now you’re blushing.’ His face took on a look of mild amusement.

‘I am not blushing! How ridiculous. Why on earth would I be blushing?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m intrigued to find out.’

I shook my head. ‘You’re imagining things. Now come on. There’s work to do.’

Michael gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t even remotely convinced before looking down at the pile of stuff that covered his floor.

‘I don’t even know what half this stuff is! How can I have accumulated this much crap?’

I crouched and then sat on the floor. ‘This is nothing. At least you can move in your house. You wouldn’t believe some of the places I’ve been in.’

I glanced up. Michael was looking around. His gaze travelled to the open door where another room’s door stood open awaiting a similar fate. I reached up and tugged on his arm.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ The shutters closed on his expression but I pressed on.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

He ran a hand through his too-long hair. ‘Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.’

‘I see. You know you can’t lie for toffee, don’t you?’

His gaze flicked to me and I held it.

‘Fine. I was thinking that there is no way this house is going to be ready for visitors to stay in at Christmas.’ He transferred his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it a couple of times. ‘You know what, Kate? This is just a waste of time. Yours and mine. And I really don’t have it to waste. There are plenty of things I could be doing instead of faffing around here.’

I pushed myself up from the floor and faced him.

‘What are you talking about? We’ve really only just started.’

‘Exactly! We’ve only just started and in a few weeks’ time I’m supposed to have a house that’s fit for everyone to stay in and produce an outstanding Christmas dinner. It’s all just a bloody farcical!’ His chest was heaving and his jaw was tight.

‘What’s so farcical about spending Christmas with your family?’

He looked down at me. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘It’s how it sounded. And it’s how it’ll sound to Janey and the rest of them.’

He gave me a look. ‘Whilst I appreciate that you and my sister are good friends, I’d also appreciate you understanding that I know my family better than you do. Your family might be overly sensitive about petty things, but mine aren’t.’

I turned for a moment, watching little flurries of snow tumble past the window as I ordered my thoughts, pushing the unnecessary ones away.

‘I see. So, what is it that you’re saying, exactly?’

‘I’m saying that I think both of us can spend our time more productively. So, it’s probably best if you left and attended to those other clients you mentioned before, all vying for your attention.’ Michael caught my eye and for once, couldn’t hold my gaze. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think there was a flash of remorse there. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time,’ he mumbled.

I smoothed my skirt down. ‘No problem. I have to say though, I never had you down as a quitter. Plenty of other things, definitely. But a quitter wasn’t one of them.’

Michael turned and glared at me. ‘I am not a quitter. I’m a realist.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. It’s so. And the realistic assessment of this…situation,’ he flapped his arm to encompass the mess that currently surrounded us, ‘is that however good you think you are, there is no way this place is going to be ready for Christmas. It’s a joke to even think that I was ever going to be able to have my family here.’

I watched him for a moment, his fists clenched, the muscles in his forearm taut as steel cables, a flicker at his jaw as he tried to contain whatever it was that had kicked off inside him. And I recognised it. The anger that hid something far more vulnerable. I’d also had a lot of practice at dealing with it.

‘Michael I’m sorry if you thought that I presumed to know more about your family than you. Obviously that’s not the case and it wasn’t what I meant. What I do know is that it’s important to them for all this to happen.’ I repeated his action of encompassing the mess around us, albeit in a calmer manner. ‘Not because they don’t want to host Christmas this year but because they care about you and this is the best way of getting it done. Being given a deadline is something you’re familiar with in your work. It’s how you work best. You even said something similar yourself the first time we met. I know it looks bad now, but it always does at this stage. And believe me, this really is nothing compared to some places.’ I leant and touched his knotted forearm, and he turned, his green eyes cool and shuttered. ‘Michael I know you want to be able to have your family here this Christmas – ’

‘Seems like you know an awful lot.’

I took a breath and ignored the jibe. Again, something else I’d had experience of.

‘I’m really good at my job and I have faith in you. Both of which mean that I’m confident we can achieve what we need to.’

He gave me a look under his lashes that hinted he still wasn’t entirely convinced.

OK, one more push.

‘Assuming, of course, you really aren’t a quitter.’

His head snapped up and I got a glare for my trouble. Which was fine. Because I knew I had him. I plopped back down on the floor.

‘Right. Now that’s sorted, you can get your backside down here and help me see what we’ve got.’

***

‘Morning Kate! Cold enough to freeze the brass ones off a monkey out there today!’ Head vet, Mark held the door for me as I attempted to struggle in with my load.

‘It certainly is. The snow’s just started again too.’

‘What have you got there? More goodies?’

‘Yes. Couple more blankets that I thought might be of use.’

‘Great! Another client or have you been treating these pooches out of your own pocket again?’

I grinned. ‘No. These were surplus to requirements at a client’s so I asked if I could take them to donate myself.’

We’d found piles of blankets in a cupboard at Michael’s house. Even with all those bedrooms, it was unlikely he’d ever need so many. Apparently the ex had really liked to shop.

‘The tags are still on these blankets! And they’re not cheap ones.’

‘I know. I suggested selling them but the client wasn’t interested. He just said to make sure they went to a good home, whatever I wanted. I couldn’t think of anywhere better than here.’

‘They’re much appreciated, as always. Thanks Kate.’

Mark took the items off me and headed off to put them in the supply store. I, meanwhile, set off to the kennels, grabbing a cleaning trolley on the way.

‘Hi Kate!’ Sara, another volunteer, smiled as I approached the kennel block. ‘How are you?’

‘Good thanks. Busy week?’

Sara was a day trader in the city and in her working life wore designer suits and traded in numbers with so many zeros it made my head spin. Not that you’d know it looking at her now. But the smile she wore said it all. She volunteered here to escape the stress and even though that included undesirable jobs like washing out kennels and other chores that few people would put high on their list of ‘things I like to do in my free time’, it was all part of it.

The other part of it was the animals. The centre mostly catered for dogs but they also took in the odd cat to help out other local shelters and had recently acquired two horses, a donkey and a Vietnamese Pot-bellied pig. These latest additions had been found in a barn after the owners moved, leaving no forwarding address. When John, the owner of the rescue centre, heard that there was the possibility of the horses being put down due to a lack of someone prepared to take them, he’d cleared an outbuilding and two days later had a comfy stable suitable for the animals to stay in. The pig also lived in there at the moment as it had delusions of grandeur and hadn’t quite yet figured out that it wasn’t actually a horse. But we were working on that.

‘How’s Bruno today?’ I came up to the kennel she was working on. It smelled clean and fresh from her efforts. A large Labrador was lounging on the dog bed with his head resting on the leg of her ripped jeans. His eyes were closing as she rhythmically stroked his ears.

‘Much better, thank goodness. He really seems to be settling. He’s eating quite well now too so John is hoping to be able to put him on the website in the next couple of days.’

‘Oh that’s great! It won’t be long before he finds a good home. Look at that face. How could anyone resist?’ Bruno was now making satisfied groany noises as Sara found a sweet spot under his chin.

‘I wish I could take him.’

I smiled, sadly. ‘That’s the worst bit, isn’t it? Falling in love.’

‘Depends on the circumstances.’ She looked up at me from under her lashes.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there something I should know?’

Sara’s smile widened and she pulled her other hand out from under Bruno’s head, an action which he made no effort to facilitate. One eye opened as she stopped caressing his ears to pull her glove off. On her third finger was a stunning, not to mention enormous, diamond.

I grabbed her hand. ‘Oh my God! He asked? You said he’d never ask!’

‘I know! Believe me, I didn’t think he would. He always said he wouldn’t get married again, but then…’ She looked down at the ring, her face radiating happiness, contentment and perhaps a little lingering surprise. ‘I still can’t believe it!’

I leant over the dog and gave her a hug. ‘Oh Sara. I’m so pleased for you, I really am. It’s wonderful news!’

‘Thanks Kate. I can’t tell you how happy I am. I thought I’d come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t ever get married, because I knew I didn’t want my life to not have Henry in it. So, I’d just accepted that’s how it would be. And then, this! Completely out of the blue.’

‘Did he say why he changed his mind?’

‘He just said that he realised he was judging every marriage by his first one and that wasn’t fair on me, or himself. Now I think he’s even more excited than I am that we’re actually getting married!’

I laughed. ‘That’s brilliant! Oh Sara. I’m just thrilled for you!’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, pulling the glove back on. ‘And what about you? How’s Calum?’

‘Oh, he’s fine. Busy.’

‘As always.’

I did a quick eyebrow raise. ‘I know. But I’m sure things will settle down soon and we can get to spend some more time together. Right, I’d better get a move on. Congratulations again.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see you later.’

‘OK. Bye.’

I grabbed the handle of my trolley and pulled it around to the block I usually looked after, pondering on the fact that my reply to Sara about Calum had just trotted out like a well-rehearsed line. Which I suppose it was.

It was true what I’d said to Janey about it being good to have someone who understood that I got busy, and I accepted that Calum worked a lot. He’d told me that from the beginning. Although, admittedly, I had thought we’d see each other a little more than we actually did. And the longer it went on, the harder it sometimes was. I was getting fed up of explaining away his absence so often and trying not to notice the private looks people exchanged when I did so. I got the feeling that some people didn’t even believe he existed. It was hard to blame them. There were weeks when he was so busy he barely called or texted at all. But I liked him and he’d promised me things would change soon. So until then, I’d just put up with the looks and comments. Things would change for the better soon.

I got to the edge of the block and opened the first kennel.

‘Hiya, Kong,’ I called as I entered.

A tiny patter of paws barely made a sound as the dog scuttled towards me. I scooped him up and gave him a cuddle. The teacup Yorkshire Terrier had come to the centre so thin it was hard to believe how he was still even alive. None of us had expected him to last another day. He was roughly the same size as one of the Kong toys we stuffed with cheese and treats for the bigger dogs, hence his name, and we all prepared for hearing the worst the next time we came in. But on my next shift, to my great surprise, not to mention delight, little Kong was still there and had even gained some weight. The vets had had to be careful about building him up gradually but he was now at a much healthier weight, and we were just awaiting some results from some tests on his kidneys. If those came back OK, which Mark was pretty confident would happen, Kong would soon be gracing the rehoming pages on the rescue centre’s website. He wouldn’t be up there long. His loving nature combined with perfect portability meant he’d be snapped up in hours, I suspected. I’d miss his little snuggles and really wished I could have him for myself, but it wasn’t possible with my job. And it wasn’t exactly the first time I’d been told I couldn’t have a pet. Even though this time I was the one giving myself the order. But at least now, here, I got to have the interaction with the animals that I loved.

I tucked Kong in the front of my hoody where he liked to sit whilst I cleaned out his kennel. From there he watched everything that was going on, keeping nice and warm. I chatted away to him as I did my chores and he sat, listening contentedly. Today I told him about Sara’s engagement, that I hadn’t been seeing Calum as much as I’d hoped, and then I told him about my latest client, Michael O’Farrell, and the fact that I still couldn’t even begin to make him out.

Several hours later, I’d cleaned all the kennels in my block, helped feed all the guests and played with a puppy for far too long before its new owner came to pick her up.

‘You look like that Stay Puft guy from Ghostbusters,’ Mark said, laughing as he wandered over.

I pulled the scarf down that was currently tucked up to my nose.

‘You say the nicest things.’

‘I try.’

‘How many layers have you got on?’

I paused a moment. ‘Four, I think.’

He grinned.

‘Who you taking?’

‘Pete and Bonio.’

‘Good choice.’

I smiled back and grabbed a couple of leads from the line of hooks on the wall.

‘See you later.’

‘See ya. Have fun.’

I tucked a tennis ball in each pocket and snagged a ball flinger from the shelf. ‘That’s the plan.’

With that I walked back in the direction of the kennels, collected my charges for the afternoon and set off for the fields adjoining the centre, a dog on each side of me. The snow had stopped for now and a watery sun was making a half-hearted attempt to shine through, even though it wasn’t that long until it was time for it to think about setting.

‘Right lads,’ I said, closing the gate behind me and bending down to unclip each lead. Both dogs waited, eager. Clearly these two knew who was the leader of the pack in this instance. Or maybe they just knew that I had tasty sausage pieces in my pocket.

Dropping a tennis ball in the cup of the thrower, I flicked my arm back and then let the ball fly. Bonio and Pete took off immediately. I loaded another and let it go, the ball zooming over their heads and Pete peeled off to chase the second one. Their enthusiasm and sheer joy made me laugh as I watched them. Bending, I called to them, my voice full of encouragement as I clapped my gloved hands. They charged back towards me, each with a soggy tennis ball held proud. Wagging their tails, they plonked their bottoms down in the snow and waited for a treat and a cuddle. I dropped down and gave them both, revelling in the warmth they radiated. And, if I was honest, also in the sense of being wanted, of belonging, of the love that they filled me with. I knew exactly where I was with these animals. There were no games, no falsehoods, no pretending-everything-was-fine. It was one of the many reasons I loved the time I spent here. I knew exactly where I stood.