‘Are we interrupting something?’ A deeply amused voice came from the same door that Charlie had entered a few minutes ago, followed by the pattering of toddler’s footsteps.
‘Rachel, Harry!’ Holly gasped as two pairs of feet, one small, one larger, came into her sight line.
‘Next time you fancy getting jiggy with the local MP, perhaps it would be wise to lock your back door before you start,’ Rachel said wryly, her face, once it came into view as Holly shifted, asking a thousand questions that Holly didn’t think she’d ever be able to answer. Holly, for once struck dumb, wondered how she was going to explain this one to her sister.
Harry, round-eyed with wonder at seeing his aunt pinned beneath a strange man with his trousers around his ankles, suddenly pointed in excitement. ‘Look, Mummy, look, Aunty Holly!’ Turning her head to see where he was pointing, Holly saw the brown field mouse, the reason for this ridiculous situation, scuttling nonchalantly past her nose and under her Welsh dresser.
12
After the mouse debacle, Holly wasn’t quite sure how she or Charlie got through his booked massage, especially since Rachel took her time to leave with Harry, having just popped in to collect a couple of toys Harry had suddenly decided he couldn’t live without, which he had left in the flat during his last visit. Once she’d dispatched her sister and nephew, Rachel’s amused gaze lingering long after they’d left, Holly decided to just ignore what had gone on. She was mortified, and from the way Charlie readily agreed to head back down to the shop to keep the appointment, she sensed he was, too. There was certainly something a little different in the air than the first time, and she felt a mixed sense of disappointment and relief when it was over.
As he emerged from the treatment room, looking more relaxed than when he’d entered it (although, to be fair, he couldn’t have been much more tense in the wake of the mouse incident), Holly looked up from her yoga mat. She hadn’t been able to let go of the tumult of emotions that the whole thing had unleashed, and coupled with that was the nagging, unnerving, unresolved issue of the photo in the suitcase. Although now was hardly the time to bring that up in conversation.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked him softly as he closed the treatment room door behind him.
‘Pretty good,’ he replied. ‘All things considered!’
Holly smiled. ‘I’m glad.’
There was an almost imperceptible pause between them.
‘So, er, how much do I owe you?’ Charlie asked. He fumbled in the inside pocket of his jacket for his wallet.
‘I sort of feel like I should be paying you compensation for what you went through earlier!’ Holly said.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Charlie grinned, ‘worse things happen in Parliament. But, seriously, I can’t keep snagging freebies off you. You have a business to run, after all.’
‘Fair enough.’ Holly smiled back. She got to her feet and ambled over to her counter where the till was. ‘It’s twenty-five pounds please.’
‘Reasonable at twice the price,’ Charlie said, handing over his debit card.
As their hands touched, Holly felt a jolt of electricity. She glanced up at Charlie and noticed his eyes widening. There was definitely something between them; something more than the artificial intimacy that the massage had provided. But perhaps he still felt weird about landing on top of her in the way he had.
Holly rang through the sale and then presented him with a receipt, ‘Just in case you can claim it on your expenses!’
Charlie laughed. ‘I’m sure stranger things have been claimed. Not that it was strange at all,’ he added hastily. ‘In fact, it was lovely.’
Holly cast around for something, anything, to keep this moment going a little longer. ‘Look, er, about what happened earlier… I feel really bad about you being in that situation.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Charlie said. ‘It wasn’t your fault. Although Arthur might not be getting any catnip from me for a while!’
‘I don’t blame you!’ Holly laughed. ‘So, I’m cooking dinner for Mum and Dad at their place on Sunday. Their kitchen’s a million times bigger than mine, and I do it about once a month. Rachel and Harry usually come over too. Would you, er, like to come over and have lunch with us? By way of an apology for Arthur’s poor behaviour?’
The minute she’d said it, she felt herself blushing at the absolute dorkiness of the invitation. Asking him for a drink at the local pub on the High Street would have been a far more sophisticated and grown-up option. Why the hell had she invited him to lunch with her parents? He looked surprised by the proposition, to say the least.
‘You know what, don’t worry, it’s a stupid idea. You’ve probably got loads to do anyway, and we should maybe just forget this whole thing happened—’ She hated it when she babbled.
‘Holly,’ Charlie cut over her monologue calmly, ‘I’d love to. It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper Sunday lunch. In fact, I don’t think I have had one since I got this new job. It would be a pleasure.’
‘Oh, OK. Well if you’re sure,’ Holly said. ‘And I do cook a mean roast lamb!’
‘Really?’ Charlie asked. ‘I was expecting some kind of vegan nut roast.’
Holly grinned, realising immediately that he was teasing. ‘And why would you think that?’ she asked, pretending to rise to the bait.
‘Well, I mean this place… I just kind of assumed that being vegan was all part of the package.’ Charlie shook his head. ‘Shows what I know.’
‘Sometimes you can’t put everyone into neat little boxes,’ Holly chided. ‘Much as I’m sure you’d like to as a politician. Things aren’t always that clear-cut.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Charlie replied. ‘The more I find out about this place, the more it confounds me.’ He was warming to the subject, she could tell. ‘I mean, you couldn’t get two more different towns than Willowbury and Stavenham on the face of it, and yet they expect their MP to navigate between them effortlessly.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s more to this place than meets the eye.’
‘And there you were, thinking it was going to be all crystals, hippies and ley lines!’ Holly teased. ‘It’s a bit harder than you thought, is it?’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’ Charlie admitted. ‘In fact, I find myself having sympathy for Hugo Fitzgerald at times.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Holly said darkly. ‘Rumour has it, he was more interested in feathering his own nest than helping other people build their own.’
‘I’d heard that, too,’ Charlie said. ‘But from my point of view it’s better not to know too much. I don’t want to get dragged backwards into whatever his affairs were, or weren’t. I just want to do the best by Willowbury and its residents as I can.’
‘I’m happy to hear that,’ Holly answered. ‘After all, everyone’s sick of politicians who have their own self-interest at heart. If you do mean what you say, it’ll be a relief.’ She wondered if this would be the right time to talk to Charlie about Rachel’s campaign to get the new drugs for Harry but decided to leave it for now. Rachel would raise it with him officially, in her own time.
‘So, can you give me your mum and dad’s address?’ Charlie was saying as Holly hurriedly zoned back into their conversation.
‘Sure,