Rachel snorted. ‘Party line doesn’t even begin to cover it! That old boyfriend of yours from school has a lot to answer for.’
‘OK, OK,’ Holly said. ‘Let’s not go down that road.’ She placed the clothes she had folded into Rachel’s washing basket. ‘Anyway, it turns out that I met Charlie at that conference… and I, er, well… that’s to say we…’
‘Oh my God, you didn’t shag him?’ Rachel’s jaw hit the floor. ‘But you were in the no-sex-before-marriage brigade back then, too! That’s basically why Simon dumped you during your A Levels!’
Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Chill out, sis. I didn’t shag him.’ And, stung, even after all these years, she couldn’t help adding, ‘And Simon didn’t dump me because of that. We made each other bloody miserable for a whole bunch of other, teenage-angst-related reasons, not sex!’
‘So why did he end up going out with Chantelle the village slapper straight after you, then?’ Rachel teased.
‘Ask him,’ Holly replied tartly. ‘But the fact is, Charlie and I have met before. And we kissed a little bit back then. And, to be honest, I’m feeling a bit weird about it.’
‘Does he remember you?’ Rachel asked, as, washing all off the line, she slumped down into one of her garden lounge chairs.
Holly shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I mean, he’d have said something by now if he did, surely.’
‘Perhaps he just feels a bit awkward bringing it up,’ Rachel said. ‘I mean, you haven’t said anything to him yet, have you?’
Holly shook her head. ‘I feel pretty awkward, too, to be honest. I mean, I’d completely forgotten about him until I found a photo of him in that suitcase.’ She didn’t add that she wasn’t that keen to revisit the dorkier elements of her teenage years – she was definitely a different person then to the one she was now.
‘So, are you going to say anything?’ Rachel asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Holly put her head back on the sun lounger she’d sat down on, lifting her ponytail to get some air to her suddenly sweaty neck. ‘It was such a brief encounter, it hardly seems worth it. And yet, it’s making me feel a bit weird that I remember it and I don’t know if he does.’
‘Just ask him, then!’ Rachel said. She smiled as Harry came trotting up to her carrying a small, castle-shaped bucket full of play sand. ‘One thing being mother to this munchkin has taught me is that you need to seize the day whenever you can. No point hiding behind things that are worrying you.’ She took the plastic spoon that Harry was offering her and pretended to take a big mouthful of the sand. ‘Mmm, that’s lovely. Is it chocolate?’
Harry giggled. ‘No, Mummy!’ He toddled around to Holly. ‘Aunty Holly want some?’
‘Thanks, gorgeous,’ Holly said, taking the spoon and doing the same. Looking at Harry’s sweet, open face, she realised exactly where Rachel’s carpe diem advice was coming from. Not a day was wasted in Harry’s life; they were all too precious. ‘Perhaps I will,’ Holly mused. ‘But, in the meantime, don’t mention it to him, if you see him, will you? I’ll do it in my own time.’
‘I’ll be the soul of discretion,’ Rachel assured her. ‘So long as you give me all the gory details when you do tell him!’
‘He’ll probably just laugh in my face,’ Holly said. ‘After all, it was fifteen years ago, and only a couple of hours of our lives. Not exactly the love affair of the century!’
‘You never know,’ Rachel said. ‘He seems nothing if not polite, from what I’ve seen of him in the media. I’m sure he’ll be tickled to be reminded.’ She gave Holly a mischievous look. ‘And since you’ve already got your hands on him on your massage bed, it seems only fair to mention your prior connection!’
Holly felt her face flushing, and it wasn’t entirely because of the warmth of the afternoon. ‘If the moment arises, I’ll drop it into conversation,’ she said. ‘But for the moment, I’d better head off. I’ve got Harriet Meadows coming in for another massage this afternoon.’
‘Lucky you,’ Rachel snorted. ‘Tell me, does she stop moaning long enough to enjoy it?’
‘Only when she falls asleep but then she doesn’t stop snoring – though, of course, you haven’t heard that from me!’ Holly laughed. She pulled Harry up onto her knee and gave him a cuddle. ‘Look after Mum for me until next time,’ she said into his thick blond hair.
‘I will,’ Harry said solemnly.
Holly smiled. She was still thinking about Rachel’s advice to seize the day as she walked back to her flat. Perhaps she had been a little cautious and land-locked lately. Maybe it was time to live a little dangerously.
11
Much to her surprise, when Holly checked her online bookings for massages the following week, she found that Charlie had booked himself in for one on Thursday evening. He’s probably going to claim it on expenses, she thought, then chided herself for her cynicism. Despite Charlie’s political party affiliations, she was sure not everything came down to money.
She cashed up quickly that afternoon, and about ten minutes before Charlie was due to arrive she found herself upstairs applying a little more deodorant (a freebie from an organic fragrance company that was trying to court her business) and running a brush through her hair. Ruefully, she realised she wouldn’t be doing this if she had any other client coming. She didn’t want to question her motivations too closely, though.
Just as she was about to head back down to the shop and light the candle in the massage room, she heard a muffled meow from behind her.
‘Hey, Arthur,’ she said fondly as she turned around. ‘Are you hungry? Oh, I see you’ve brought your own food tonight.’
There, in the ginger cat’s jaws was a large field mouse. Holly was generally unfazed by Arthur’s tendency to hunt and bring her home some of his catches, reasoning that it was par for the course when you owned, or were indeed owned by, a cat, although she would have preferred it if he finished them off beforehand – she’d had to rescue rodents and even small rabbits from the dark corners of her flat on a few occasions and it was quite tedious and time-consuming.
Unfortunately, this time Arthur’s catch was large, vocal and very much alive. And as she strolled towards Arthur to try to shoo him back down the stairs and out of his cat flap, he dropped the mouse and shot into her bedroom.
‘Great. Thanks so much, Arthur!’
Holly glanced at the clock and realised Charlie was due any minute. Swearing under her breath, she debated the options. Her living room was very open, but there were enough crevices for a rodent to hide, and while she wasn’t squeamish, the thought of a mouse running over her feet at an unwary moment made her skin crawl. She could close the door to the flat temporarily, but there were gaps under her doors that a mouse might easily slip under. The last thing she needed was it loose in ComIncense. There were far too many tasty things for it to nibble on down there, not least the expensive artisan beeswax candles she stocked from a local supplier near Wells. Nor would a free-ranging mouse be the most inviting sight for her customers.
The bell over the front door of the shop tinkled and Holly’s heart quickened.
‘Charlie, is that you?’ Holly called.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ a voice returned her enquiry. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Can you drop the latch on the front door, and flip the sign then come up here for a sec?’ Holly replied. Charlie was a few minutes early, after