*
Izzy pushed open her garden gate and walked into the back garden. Bex had left her in the pub a short while before and had sped up the road with a great wheel spin, clearly with only one thing on her mind. Gabe. They were still in that honeymoon stage of not being able to keep their hands off each other. Something told Izzy they would probably never grow out of it. They were due to marry in a few weeks, on Valentine’s Day of all days, and then Gabe was taking her back to his little log cabin in the middle of the Canadian mountains and they would live out the rest of their lives surrounded by hundreds of miles of forests. Bex would die without her copy of Heat and her weekly visit to the nail salon but she was willing to give it all up for Gabe. Izzy was just trying not to think about the moment when she would finally say goodbye to her best friend.
She let herself in through her Uncle Jack’s back door and smiled when she saw him sitting in his favourite chair with her beloved cat Pete curled up on his lap.
‘Traitor,’ Izzy said.
Pete opened his eye and looked at her unperturbed, before going back to sleep again.
She leaned down to kiss her Uncle Jack on his cheek. From the side facing her he looked like a sweet old man, a full head of silver hair, a brown cardigan and a pair of navy slippers. The other cheek had a horrific slash that looked like he had been knifed but in reality had happened in a car accident. It had never bothered him, he liked that people thought he was not to be messed with.
In his current job though it was actually a bonus. He had spent forty years of his life as a postman and one week away from retiring he was spotted by a film director who was shooting some gangster film in London.
Jack Blake had been given a small role as one of the silent gangsters and his sardonic looks had become legendary. Ever since then, Jack had been cast in several films and crime dramas and a few months before he’d been cast as one of the henchmen in the latest James Bond film.
He loved it and was quite the local celebrity in Greater Chessingburyford. But to Izzy he would always be her lovely, sweet Uncle Jack.
‘What are you so happy about?’ Jack took a swig of tea from an oversized mug that had a faded picture of Mr Greedy on the side.
‘I have a job, secretarial mainly, events management, that kind of thing.’ She quickly glossed over the more sordid details of the company. ‘I start tomorrow.’
Jack scratched behind Pete’s one ear and Pete stretched. ‘Ethan Chase, “Kidnap my Wife”, so I hear.’
Izzy felt her mouth fall open. ‘Have you spoken to Bex?’
‘No, he’s doing a bit of digging about you and your past. He’s put Simon Castello on the case. Nothing escapes that man, he’ll find out who your first boyfriend was, what your pets were called and your weekly spelling test results at the age of nine.’
Izzy shifted in her seat, uneasily. ‘Simon Castello is a creep.’
‘Yes, but he’s very good at what he does. And of course his father and I go way back.’
‘Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer,’ Izzy muttered.
Jack nodded. ‘Exactly. It was Nico that warned me that Simon was currently investigating you.’
‘I have nothing to hide. They can dig around all they want.’
‘I told Nico that and in courtesy to me he imparted some information about his dear nephew Ethan.’
‘Ethan Chase is Nico Castello’s nephew?’ Izzy groaned. What had she gotten herself involved with? Although nothing had ever been proven, it was a commonplace thought that the Castellos were once connected to the mafia.
‘Ethan’s a good bloke,’ Jack said.
This surprised Izzy. Jack didn’t trust the Castellos as far as he could throw them. There had been a long running historical feud between the Castellos and the Blakes which had come to a begrudging end when Jack, at the age of nineteen, had saved Nico’s little sister from drowning in the canal.
‘Nico Castello says his nephew is a good bloke and you believe him?’
‘The Castellos are not the only ones who can do some digging.’ Jack said, his dark eyes astute and alert.
Izzy smiled. ‘So you’re saying it’s ok for me to work for him. I have your blessing.’
‘To work for him yes, but my dear Izzy, if you get involved with him romantically I may have to disown you.’ Jack mimed tearing off his collar and Izzy laughed.
‘But then who would cook your favourite chicken pie?’
Jack cursed under his breath. ‘Fine you can stay. Disgraceful. Blackmailing your poor old uncle, I would have thought better of you than that.’
Izzy smiled, hoping that he didn’t know that blackmailing was exactly how she had landed this job in the first place.
She kissed him on the cheek, again. ‘You taught me well.’
She grabbed Pete by the scruff of the neck and he wailed his protest as she propped him up on her shoulder. But despite his objections, Pete nuzzled into the side of her neck, purring loudly.
‘Night beautiful,’ Jack said, squeezing her hand.
‘Night.’
Ethan pulled up outside his office the next day at nine-thirty. He hoped that Isabelle had changed her mind or got bored of waiting. It was freezing outside, so she wouldn’t have waited for long. The car park was deserted and he smiled to himself that he had won that easily. He didn’t want her there. He hadn’t been thinking straight yesterday, when he’d given her a job. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. With her hair all messed up from being inside the bag, it looked like she had just got out of bed and he had wanted to take her straight back to it. He had clearly let that part of his body decide for him. He had thought about offering to take her out for dinner and hopefully dessert to apologise for the misunderstanding but then she punched him in the face and he quickly changed his mind after that. He wanted to get rid of her. He didn’t want to come to work every day and feel this insane attraction for someone he didn’t like. Especially after what he had uncovered about her. But he had a plan.
He fumbled with his keys to let himself in but as he pushed the key in the lock the door swung open. He walked in, suddenly afraid that they’d been burgled.
The place was unrecognisable from when he had last seen it the night before. Surfaces were paper free and gleaming, all the coffee cups were gone, the floor was no longer hidden under rubbish but a soft blue carpet he had long forgotten about stood proud against the cream walls. An unsightly stain was now hidden underneath a cream rug and several plants adorned the windowsills. It actually looked like an office as opposed to a room.
The culprit was dancing and singing in the corner of the room as she filed stuff away in the filing cabinet he had bought but never used. Her long black hair that had fluttered around her face like the sleek feathers of a raven the day before was now tied back in several plaits and clips. She was dressed smartly in black trousers and matching jacket but the most intriguing thing was her standing in his office in bare feet.
He watched her feet moving as she danced slightly, tiny little feet with gold nail varnish on the toes. He had a sudden overwhelming desire to kiss those feet.
He pushed that away, angrily.
‘Isabelle.’
She carried on dancing, humming along to some unknown tune in her head, completely ignoring him.
She squatted down to put something in the bottom drawer and as she did she gave a little