owned the shop a couple of doors down from hers and made a living from reading and cleansing auras, had told her the last time they’d had a conversation. ‘A dark one might indicate health issues, or things on your mind, an inability to let go of something, for instance. It’s a good idea to spring-clean it once in a while.’
‘I’m not sure I want to know how you spring-clean an aura!’ Charlie laughed. ‘Although I’m sure the inhabitants of the Palace of Westminster could provide all kinds of shapes and colours that a reader of such things would have a very interesting time with.’
Holly laughed as well. ‘I can’t see them, personally, but if you were ever interested in having yours read, I can refer you to our local practitioner, Mariad.’ She fingered the sprig of rosemary she’d picked from the pot by the shop door. ‘But enough of that. How are you settling in to life as an MP?’
‘Pretty well, thanks,’ Charlie replied, ‘although the weather’s making us all very sleepy. I dread to think what we’ve agreed to this week in the chamber, and all for lack of air conditioning!’
‘If Willowbury gets a new retail park slap in the middle of it, we know who to blame!’ Holly joked. Then she paused, looking at Charlie properly for the first time since he’d stopped. He still had a hand up to his neck, and now he was up close, Holly noticed his shoulders were tensed. ‘Are you OK? Is your neck sore?’
‘Just a little bit,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve not been sleeping too well, and the train was busy on the way back tonight, so three hours from London Paddington crammed against the door did nothing for my neck. I really should get a new desk chair for what passes for an office in London, too.’
‘You should take better care of your back and neck,’ Holly chided. ‘If you hang on a minute, I’ve got some fantastic rosemary and peppermint essential oil. Just get someone to massage it in. It’ll help you sleep, too. Although it sounds like you’re doing enough of that at work!’
‘Er, OK,’ Charlie said.
Holly noted with amusement Charlie’s sudden look of discomfiture that didn’t seem to have anything to do with his professed neck pain. Grinning, she opened the door to her shop. ‘Come in while I dig that oil out.’
As she pushed open the shop door, Holly realised that, much like a lot of her customers, ComIncense seemed to both fascinate and unnerve Charlie. She’d seen it a lot since she’d opened the shop; people were drawn to ComIncense because of its outlandish range of dried herbs, sights and scents, but also terrified that they would do, say or buy something that was wrong or inappropriate, or even break something. Most of the time, she tried to quell these worries with her own friendly presence (it was useful to be approachable to make sales, after all, despite what some of her fellow business owners believed), but for a moment, devilry won with Charlie as she saw him looking around.
‘Of course, the latest thing in relaxation is Shamanic Dolphin Choir music,’ she said as they wandered back through the shop. ‘I’ve sold a lot of CDs of that lately. People find the sixteen-part delphinidae harmonies do wonders for stress.’ She glanced back over her shoulder and was inwardly tickled to see Charlie’s face registering that familiar look of intrigue, discomfort and incomprehension that tended to happen when some of the more reserved clients looked too closely at her stock. ‘Perhaps I can lend you a couple of CDs to try out?’ She paused and pushed her advantage a little, staring into his eyes intently, as if selling Shamanic Dolphin Choir music was her complete raison d’être.
‘Um… yeah, thanks,’ Charlie stammered. ‘Sounds, er, great.’
At his look of stammering incomprehension, Holly burst out laughing, unable to keep up the charade any longer. ‘It would be,’ she smirked. ‘If I hadn’t totally just made it up.’
Charlie, obviously relieved, grinned back. ‘Thank Christ for that. Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had foisted on me to try out since I took this job. I think I can live without the singing dolphins.’
‘Fair enough,’ Holly kept smiling. Turning towards the rack of shelves where she kept her essential oils, she picked up the bottle of rosemary and peppermint infusion. ‘I can mix this with some base oil if you don’t want to faff about with warming up olive oil at home.’
‘That would be great, thanks,’ Charlie replied.
As Holly decanted some of her neutral-scented base oil into a fresh glass bottle and added several drops of the rosemary and peppermint, she was aware of Charlie watching her hands intently. She’d made up this mixture a hundred times, and with cool efficiency she mixed the oils, filled the bottle to the top and then finished it off with a cork stopper. Then, she grabbed her calligraphy pen, wrote the contents and the date on one of her pre-printed ComIncense labels and handed it over to Charlie.
‘Just massage a bit into your neck and shoulders tonight, or, even better, get someone to do it for you, and you will really feel the benefit.’ Was she imagining things, or was Charlie Thorpe actually starting to blush? ‘Did I say something wrong?’ she asked.
‘No, not at all,’ Charlie laughed nervously. ‘It’s just that I don’t really know anyone well enough in Willowbury yet to ask them to get their hands on me!’ Trying to make a joke of it, his laugh faltered.
There was a pause between them, while Charlie stared fixedly at the bottle Holly had just given him and Holly debated within herself.
Eventually, she smiled. ‘I’ll do it for you if you like.’
Charlie’s head snapped back up. ‘Oh, it’s all right, that wasn’t a hint. I’m sure I can see to myself. Oh, Christ…’ At the clearly unintentional innuendo, Charlie really did laugh.
Holly, tickled, joined in. ‘Honestly, I don’t mind. I’ll just close the shop and then we won’t get interrupted. It’s closing time anyway.’ She gestured to the room off the back of the shop. ‘That’s my treatment room. Don’t worry, it’s not as clinical as it sounds. Why don’t you go in and get yourself comfortable and I’ll be with you in a sec. Just slip the top half of your clothes and your shoes off and lie down on the massage bed.’
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind,’ Charlie replied. ‘I thought you needed to take bookings for these sorts of things.’
‘Usually, yes, but for you I’ll make an exception,’ Holly smiled. ‘I’d only be worrying about you if I let you go home with that sore neck.’ She did wonder why she was making a sudden exception and letting Charlie onto her massage table without an appointment, but, she figured, she’d dissect her own reasoning later. She was nothing if not spontaneous.
Charlie smiled. ‘OK, sounds great.’ He ambled towards the small room at the back of the shop while Holly locked the front door.
Turning off the shop floor lights, she went to the counter and scrolled through her phone for some suitably relaxing music to pipe through to the treatment room. Selecting some middle-of-the-road Celtic relaxation music, not wanting to totally freak Charlie out with something more out there, she lit a lavender incense stick and slotted it into the holder just inset into the doorway of the treatment room.
Opening the door, she couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath as she saw Charlie stretched out on her massage table. Naked to the waist, his white shirt, waistcoat and tie slung over the chair in the corner of the room, his dark, slightly dishevelled hair contrasted with the pale skin of his back. Legs encased in his suit trousers stretched tantalisingly down the table, and his muscular arms were stretched out at his
