Mistletoe Mansion. Samantha Tonge
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His mouth twitched. ‘Pleasurable as this has been, ladies, it’s time I was off.’
‘Try knocking next time,’ I said, blocking out thoughts wondering whether it would scratch to kiss his bristly face. No, I wouldn’t apologise for his injury. He was to blame. And so were his sexy hair and sardonic smile, for making me think the unthinkable – that, in time, there might be other men out there who could turn my head. No, I wouldn’t consider that. Adam and I were meant for each other and this… this arrogant, rude, unfriendly handyman just proved how important it was for me to win back my decent man.
‘Didn’t want to disturb you.’ He shrugged. ‘Thought I’d be in and out. It might have been safer, though. Didn’t know I’d come face to face with such a drama queen.’
‘You’ve bent my tree!’ I said, picking up the now lopsided Christmas decoration.
‘How inconsiderate of me. Next time I’ll duck.’ He shoved the doll under one arm and approached me, leant forward and slid the honeysuckle from my ear, his fingers gently brushing against my scalp. ‘Don’t think Mr Murphy would appreciate you picking the flowers.’ And with that he left.
I stared out of the front window as he swaggered down the drive. The rain had calmed to a rhythmic patter and the weeping willow hung limp, like my hair after a swim. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone ruder than my younger brother. Fancy barging in unannounced, without the slightest concern for scaring the crap out of us?’
Jess shrugged. ‘Suppose he was doing someone a favour. Guess he’s used to popping in and out as he likes.’
‘You’re defending him?’ My eyes narrowed.
‘Per-lease, Kimmy, he’s not my type! Anyway, I’m a man-free zone. It’s all too soon after…’ Her voice broke. She’d ditched her last boyfriend a month ago. He was older, kind of distinguished and spoilt her rotten. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the bozo let slip to straight-up Jess that he was married with no immediate plans to leave his wife.
‘Come on… Don’t know about you but I’m so hungry I could eat a Groucho sized nut roast,’ she said, and gave a half-smile. ‘Let’s eat and sort out who’s sleeping where. Then we need to write a list – prioritise jobs for tomorrow… I need to search out the recycling bins and find out on which day they’re emptied.’
I put down the plastic tree, hoping to mend it later, and followed her into the kitchen. Oh my God! The big American fridge with double doors! Jess found some biscuits for the little dog, whilst I pulled out eggs, butter, a small slab of cheese and milk. I’d never used a halogen hob before and ran my fingers along its shiny surface. To the right of the sink were the French patio doors. Arms full of ingredients, I teetered over and took a quick look outside. There, on raised decking, big and round and covered in a green cover was the hot tub – a very cool Facebook status immediately came to mind!
Within fifteen minutes, we were sitting at the granite island in the middle of the kitchen, eating omelettes and drinking milk.
‘Here’s to us,’ said Jess, as she raised her glass and drank the contents down in one. ‘At least I’ve worked out why this place is named after a parasitic plant.’
I raised an eyebrow.
‘Out the back…’ Jess jerked her head. ‘Right at the bottom are apple and poplar trees – plus that willow at the front… All are the perfect hosts for mistletoe. I bet the owners have suffered constant infestations over the years.’
‘Great, let’s hope, in daylight, we can spot a mass of the stuff to help decorate this place. It’s hardly festive.’
Jess wolfed down the omelette.
‘You are hungry.’ I grinned.
‘Well, we’ve only been here a couple of hours and already rescued some torso and committed Grievous Bodily Harm.’
‘Did you see Luke’s face when the lights came on? What a shame my tree’s now wonky.’ And I supposed it was a pity that its metal base cut his head. Would he need stitches? Okay, perhaps now I was feeling a titch guilty. ‘Beat you upstairs,’ I said to Jess and slipped off the stool. ‘I’m going to bagsy the best bedroom.’
‘We’re not in Juniors now, you know,’ she said, but nevertheless broke into a chase as I charged into the hallway and upstairs. The chandelier’s bulbs must have blown, so the landing was dark. Therefore I slowed and edged my way around to the very first door on the left, at the front of the house. It was locked, so I edged my way back, to the next door down. I opened it and switched on the light.
‘Hello Magazine eat your heart out,’ I murmured.
Transfixed, we entered the sumptuous room. Bang opposite the door was a huge four poster oak bed, with silk crimson sheets trimmed with gold, and a row of pretty cushions embroidered with red and purple flowers, leant up against the headboard. A lavish dressing table with carved feet stood at the end of the room, by the huge back window which boasted generously cut crimson velvet curtains hanging to the floor. I peeked out onto the back garden and could just make out the trees Jess had talked about. I pushed open the top window and shivered as I listened for a moment.
‘Did you hear that shouting?’ I said and quickly closed the window. ‘Sounds like a couple on this street is having one humdinger of an argument.’
‘Maybe life in Harpenden isn’t so idyllic after all.’
Next to the bed, on the left, was a huge oak wardrobe and further around, a door, no doubt leading to an ensuite. Sure enough, I glanced in. It couldn’t be more feminine, with the delicate pink smudged tiles, cream bathroom units and gold accessories. A showerhead stood over… was that a whirlpool bath? A floral design decorated the toilet seat and even the loo roll had a rose imprint on it.
In a trance I headed for the bed and flopped down, just imagining myself in one of those fancy lifestyle magazine photo shoots. Groucho jumped up next to me and snuggled up. I gazed at a rich oil painting of a vase of poppies.
‘I can see you two aren’t going to budge.’ Jess grinned. ‘In here’s too posh for me anyway. Let’s look at the other rooms.’
Reluctantly, I heaved myself off the super sprung mattress, longing to squidge the lush carpet between my toes. In fact, I kicked off my boots and socks and padded around for a few seconds. It felt like the softest clover-filled lawn; it felt like I’d just had one of those trendy fish pedicures.
‘Come and look at this!’ called Jess. After a quick peek in the wardrobe, I hurried onto the landing. I walked to the next room and tried the handle. It was locked. Jess was in the next one along and I went in. With a whoop of joy, I headed straight for a black laptop and sat down in a swizzle chair. How had I managed almost a day without social media?
‘Wonder why he needed an office,’ said Jess, her gaze jumping from the immaculate cream blinds, to the beige leather sofa and shiny laminated floor. On the right hand wall was a massive plasma television. ‘Let’s hope the last two rooms aren’t too small, Kimmy, otherwise I might be sharing your bed.’
‘As long as you don’t talk in your sleep, like Adam.’ Or dribble on the pillow. Or throw the duvet off every time I pull it up. I bit my lip. Sleeping alone tonight was going to be weird.