I still wasn’t sure why I’d kept all this stuff after we’d broken up; it wasn’t what I usually did. But then Patrick was the first man I’d truly cared about. He seemed so sophisticated and mature compared with the other boys I’d been out with in the past. Patrick was different. He was older and already a successful businessman. I suppose I was a bit in awe of him. He had a big personality and took charge of every situation. He knew about food and wine and wore expensive suits and Rolex watches. Elena had gone mad at me when I’d told her this, ranting on about how superficial it all was and how I should be judging him on how much time he spent with me. I was so mad I didn’t speak to her for a week. Not that she noticed, of course; she was too loved-up with Daniel to realise. But I could never stay mad with her for long, and she’d forgiven me for being suspicious about Daniel when she first got together with him. It was hard to believe now that I’d ever thought he was using her. How wrong could I have been? Still, I was happy to be proven wrong where Elena was concerned.
I wasn’t so happy to be proven wrong about Patrick, though. But when I sat and thought about it, I couldn’t think of anything that meant he couldn’t be a criminal. The only thing I could think of was that I couldn’t possibly have dated a criminal. I didn’t do that sort of thing. I’d never been attracted to that whole ‘bad boy’ persona thing girls went for. I liked men who were good and smart and clean-living. Patrick had seemed to be all of those things.
The hat box and receipts were in the back of my car now, waiting for Anthony to stop by and collect them. He hadn’t said he would, but I thought it was likely. As a result, I spent the rest of the day watching out of the window for him and jumping every time a customer came into the shop. It made me cross that I wanted to see him again so badly, and it made me even crosser when closing time arrived and he hadn’t made an appearance at all. Bobbi went home and I locked up the shop before going out into the courtyard to drive home. The rain beat down on my head as I crossed to my car, soaking my hair and the shoulders of my coat. Anthony’s car glistened wetly next to mine, and I turned and glanced up at the doorway to his flat. The light was on in his hallway, so presumably he was in. I paused for a second, debating whether I should knock or not, before taking the hat box from the back of my car and going up the stone steps to his front door.
There was no answer at first and I was just starting to make my way back down the steps, thinking he wasn’t home, when the door opened and Anthony appeared, framed in the light of his hallway.
‘Oh! It’s you!’
He was wearing dark-rimmed glasses and his shirt collar was open. I stared at him for a moment too long before remembering what I was there to do. Trotting back up the steps, I thrust the box at him and wiped some rainwater out of my eyes.
‘I’ve made the list and there are some receipts and things in there that might help. Also, there’s an address for the florist he used at the bottom of this box and I’m wondering if he had an account. I doubt it will help but you never know.’
My heart was hammering as I turned away to walk back down the steps. Those glasses were just too cute.
‘Don’t go, Rachel. Come in.’
I looked at him in surprise. ‘I don’t want to disturb you. I just thought you’d want that as soon as possible.’
‘You’re not disturbing me at all. Come in, I’ll make you a drink. You must be freezing standing out there, and you’re soaked through.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Slowly, I walked back up the steps and into the hall, feeling awkward and uncertain. Should I be here? I could do without feeding my desire for him. Maybe I should make an excuse and leave. But even as I was formulating a reason to go, Anthony was shutting the door behind me and telling me to go upstairs. The apartment was designed with its three bedrooms on the lower floor, and an open-plan living area with kitchen, dining area and living room upstairs. It smelt deliciously of beef casserole.
‘I was just about to have dinner,’ Anthony said, following me upstairs. ‘Your mum made me a casserole.’
‘My mum?’ I said, incredulously. ‘When did she make you a casserole?’
‘She called round before. I think it’s a house-warming gift. She even apologised for not making it before. She’s very sweet, isn’t she?’
‘I haven’t even seen her this week,’ I grumbled, a bit offended she hadn’t made some for me, too. I loved my mum’s casserole. ‘In fact, she hasn’t even phoned to tell me she’s back from holiday!’
‘She said she only got back last night and was in a mad rush. Please stay and eat it with me. I’ll never eat it all. She’s made me a huge pot.’ He went to the cooker and stirred the contents of the saucepan on the hob.
‘You can always freeze it,’ I suggested, even though I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime and my stomach was rumbling. It smelt gorgeous.
‘There’ll still be loads left even if you have some. I don’t know if she thinks I need fattening up or something. I’ve only warmed half of it up, but there’s more than enough for both of us. Have you eaten already?’
‘No, I’ve just finished work.’
‘Well then, take off your coat and sit down.’ He nodded towards the round oak table on the other side of the room. A pile of papers was stacked to one side of an open laptop. ‘Excuse the mess. I’ll move that in a minute.’
Unbuttoning my coat, I moved towards the table as if in slow motion. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Anthony placed a plate of steaming casserole in front of me virtually the minute I sat down, and then whisked away his laptop and files.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me. Your mum made it. What would you like to drink?’
‘Just water, thanks.’
Filling two glasses from the tap, Anthony carried them over before placing a plate of crusty bread in the centre of the table.
‘Mmm,’ he said, tucking into his dinner. ‘This is gorgeous.’
‘I know, I do love my mum’s stew.’
‘Can you cook like this?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really. So, when did she bring it round?’
‘About four o’clock this afternoon. I’d just got in from work.’
I pulled a face. ‘That was sneaky. She could have come and said hello to me. I wonder if I’ve upset her somehow?’
‘Your dad was waiting with his engine running. I think they had to be somewhere.’
‘Oh, okay.’ I still felt a little bit miffed but I supposed she had a lot to do and it was sweet of her to make Anthony some food. I knew she’d been disappointed he was moving in when she was away.
‘So, how was your day?’ Anthony asked.
‘Okay. How was yours?’
‘Frustrating. We keep drawing a blank in finding Patrick. We’ve got everyone else we think is involved, we just can’t find him.’ He blew on his forkful of food and looked at me curiously. His eyes looked bigger behind his glasses. ‘So, you definitely haven’t seen or heard from him since you told him it was over? Despite the fact he said he’d phone?’
I nodded, chewing my food slowly. ‘Definitely. Did you manage to get onto my phone?’
‘It’s gone to another department. Did he know anyone else in Chester? You said he was here on business? What business was that? Where was his meeting?’
‘He