Mistletoe Mansion (35 page)

‘Okay – but why can’t you come now? What are you up to?’

‘Don’t worry – I’m not going to set up any more tricks.’

‘I didn’t mean–’

‘If you must know, I’m going to close the hatch and hide this box in the front bedroom. We need to work out how I’m going to smuggle it to Melissa’s tonight, without Murphy noticing.’

My phone bleeped – a text this time. They’d just left the village and were about ten minutes away.

‘I won’t be long,’ said Luke and breathed heavily as he heaved the box along another metre.

I raced down to put the kettle on and had just set up the tray when the front door clicked open. Mr Murphy was back. Luke appeared in the kitchen, opened the patio doors and took the tray from me. Quickly I followed him and his whistling across the lawn, to the summerhouse, me having grabbed my gold parka. Groucho followed and once we’d sat down, sprawled at our feet.

‘That’s very gentlemanly of you,’ I said, as Luke passed me the plate of cakes. I took one and then we both pulled the wicker chairs forward and out of the shade.

Eyes twinkling, he lifted up one of the cakes. ‘Glad you made it to the summerhouse in one piece and didn’t get attacked by that hose again.’

Ignoring him, I bit into the ginger cake. The overall flavour was too strong and not sweet enough. The heavy consistency of the sponge meant I’d used too much treacle.

‘Could you make me a batch of these,’ said Luke. ‘I could do with some filler for my stone wall.’

‘That’s better – you insulting me.’

A warmth surged through my chest as we grinned at each other.

‘Sorry I thought you were up to your old tricks again last night. But you can’t blame me. This has been the most random week of my life.’

‘Fair enough. Guess it’s not every week you befriend a ghost and develop a mammoth-sized crush.’ He put down his coffee and flexed an arm.

‘Idiot.’

‘So, you’ve got plenty of time to practise for the competition, seeing as you won’t be showing any more prospective buyers around.’

‘True – although I’ve got a week of tidying ahead of me. Mr Murphy is getting in house clearers and has already arranged for the antique furniture and ornaments to be driven up to his parents, before Christmas.’ I gave a wry smile. ‘The place might look quite empty by the twenty-fifth.’

‘What about the rest of the stuff?’ said Luke, with a frown. ‘All the personal bits – Lily’s sewing, the photos, and Walter had collected some amazing golf memorabilia over the years.’

‘He’s getting rid, I suppose.’

Luke’s eyes flashed. ‘Quite the caring nephew, isn’t he?’

‘He goes back to Manchester on Wednesday – something about a sales convention.’

Luke shook his head.

‘Walter and Lily will be together again soon, that’s the main thing,’ I said softly, ‘once we put the last pieces of this puzzle together and find out exactly how Mr Murphy’s swindled Walter.’

‘Did you, um…’ Luke cleared his throat. ‘…have a long conversation with Walter’s spirit… the ghost, last night then?’

I waited for his mouth to twitch but unlike Adam, whether Luke believed my story about the ghost or not, he didn’t make me feel ridiculous.

‘Not really,’ I smiled. ‘He’s a man of few thuds.’

Luke nodded. ‘So… the Harpenden Christmas Market…’

‘According to Melissa, whoever wins that cake competition gets lots of promotion in the local paper. Last year’s winner now sells her cakes to several local cafés.’

‘What does Adam think to all this? Will you move back in with him?’

I hadn’t told anyone this yet, but – deep breath – regardless of whether Adam and I got back together… ‘No. After this week, I couldn’t live in his flat again.’

‘Wow. Used to the high life now, are we?’ Luke teased.

I pulled a face. ‘There’s a bedsit above a chip shop near where I once lived. I rang up to enquire. The landlord doesn’t care if I’m not in regular work, as long as the rent gets paid, and said I can move in after Christmas.’

‘Big decision.’

I swallowed. Yes. It was a bold move.

‘So… Have you told Adam?’

I shook my head. And it should have felt wrong that Luke knew first, but for some reason it didn’t. It was time to own my life again – be in charge of my own destiny. No one would be able to throw me out again, unless I failed to pay the rent… Adam could always come around for a meal, after work, if we were still going out. I bit my lip. The trouble was, why couldn’t I imagine that happening? Instead, when I pictured my new home, it was cluttered with Tupperware boxes full of cakes, with eggshells and flour trails littering the kitchen units; me singing to some girly music or watching TV that Adam would have called “crap”.

‘And Jess?’

‘She’s managed to wangle an invite to crash on the sofa of a girl she gets on well with, at work, once Mr Murphy asks us to leave. I made a few enquiries, to see if we could find somewhere together, but it looks like anything bigger will be too expensive. Anyway, my new landlord seems pretty laidback. I doubt he’ll visit often so I thought Jess could discreetly stay at my new place if she ever needs to, until she finds somewhere permanent. I… I’d like to look out for her, you see…’ I glanced sideways at him. ‘She’s, um, pregnant.’

Luke let out a low whistle. ‘Not the best time to be looking for a new gaff.’

‘A few months’ time and she’ll need to plan a nursery. To be honest, I think she’s still in denial; not used to the idea of being a mum yet.’ My eyes tingled.

‘You’re worried about her?’

I nodded. ‘She talks about the pregnancy and birth but not much after that.’

‘I’m good at building furniture. You tell Jess I can knock up a cot any time she likes.’

‘Thanks, Luke. That’d be great.’ I blushed. ‘Melissa’s been helpful as well.’

‘Yeah. Now I’ve got to know her, for a celebrity, she’s pretty cool. So…’ He brushed crumbs off his shirt. ‘Let’s brainstorm and come up with a winning recipe for this competition.’

‘Really?’

‘Shh! I’m thinking. Don’t interrupt the master at work!’ His eyes closed for a few minutes. I glanced towards the house and saw Mr Murphy, back, in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. Then he disappeared, no doubt for a lie-down.

‘First of all,’ Luke said. ‘It’s the judges you’ve got to please – who are they?’

‘One of the local vicars, um, a teashop owner from the village and a lady from the Woman’s Institute.’

‘Okay. Well, that says to me that you need to keep things fairly traditional. Nothing too outlandish – like marzipan whips and handcuffs. Can you think of a local theme? What do we know about Harpenden?’

‘That it’s expensive, so I could, say, decorate my cakes with diamonds and pearls. The only other thing I know about this place is that it’s where Eric Morecambe used to live…’

My voice trailed off, as a sudden thought entered my head. Oh my God, this was the wackiest idea in the world. Morecambe & Wise – they were huge once, weren’t they? Every Brit’s favourite comedy duo? And they were known for a certain song… ‘What about “Bring Me Sunshine” cupcakes?’ I said, cautiously.

‘Huh? After that tune Eric and Ernie always sang?’

‘The judges sound old enough to have loved them. The flavour could be lemon… perhaps lemon cheese or meringue, with bright yellow buttercream icing piped on top in swirls… Such a summery colour will really stand out.’

‘I like it,’ he said. ‘And on the top, just for a bit of fun, you could have a pair of black Eric Morecambe glasses made out of liquorice or whatever you used for those whips and handcuffs.’

‘You’re a star!’ My smile dropped for a moment. ‘Do you think they’ll find it funny? Or tasteless? A joke too far? You said they’d like something traditional.’

‘Everyone loves nostalgia. They’ll love it, Kimmy. Trust me. Those cakes will look really cheerful.’

We looked at each other. ‘Will… you be at the market?’

‘I’ll try. A local customer has just bought two semis in Brighton. He’s a property developer; wants me to do them up. It’s good money. I’ve no ties here, so I’ll be busy packing on Saturday. Straight after Boxing Day I’ll be leaving for a month.’

‘Oh. I mean… Good for you.’ My stomach twisted. It was still pinching half an hour later when I went to my room to fetch my purse for a speedy ingredients shopping spree, which was mad? How could I think I was going to miss someone I hardly knew yet?

Humming myself out of such thoughts, I planned to make up a batch of those sunshine cakes and take them over to Melissa’s tonight. Luke had just left to take the box over to hers. If Mr Murphy noticed, he would say it was full of my belongings as Melissa had said I could store some stuff in her house. With a heavy heart, I pushed open my bedroom door and looked around. Now where had I left my purse?

A cold breeze tickled my neck and lifted my hair, as I sat down on the plush bedcovers. A smile crept onto my face. Something rustled and I felt underneath my thighs – I’d sat down on a faded piece of paper and lifted it to my face. It smelt musty and looked as if it had been torn from a book. I studied the neat, old-fashioned writing. Listed were the ingredients for…
Sunny Lemon Cakes.
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. This must have belonged to Lily. Walter had left out the perfect recipe to win the competition!

Chapter 28

‘Apparently he’s missing me,’ said Jess, with a smile, whilst I sat down at the breakfast table with a glass of juice. Outside strands of dark cloud hung low – sadly not thick or white enough for the promise of snow.

‘Start from the beginning,’ I said. Jess was off work today and I hadn’t seen her the night before, having got back late from Melissa’s. She seemed chirpier than she had been for days. More like the old Jess.

For a second, she stopped chewing her gum. ‘Ryan’s girlfriend – the one I walked in on, you know, all boobs and Brazilian – she came into work yesterday. He actually told her that his place wasn’t the same without me.’

‘Yeah,’ I scoffed, ‘it’s knee-high in dust, you mean.’

Jess smiled. ‘We both know my brother’s an emotional desert. But even if he just misses my cleaning skills, that’s quite an admission. This woman – Julie – has actually been seeing Ryan for a while. When I burst in, that was the first time she’d slept over and guess what?’

I raised my eyebrows.

‘He even makes her breakfast.’

Wow. This was the commitment-phobe who boasted that he’d never once met a girlfriend’s parents. Usually, he’d get rid of the previous night’s conquest in the morning by slathering his face with Jess’s body oil and feigning a feverish illness. And as for breakfast, he only ever made himself a pint of Alka-Seltzer dissolved in cola, let alone cater for someone else.

‘Why didn’t he visit you himself then?’

Jess’s eyes crinkled. ‘Julie
gets
Ryan. She knows he’d never publicly admit his feelings. She’s dead sick of his new roommate, or rather beer-buddy…’

‘So she realised it’ll be down to her to get you back.’ I swallowed a mouthful of cereal. Queasy, that’s how I felt, and it was all down to last night and Melissa’s cocktails. She and Terry had spent half the evening working on some concoction they promised would go with my trial batch of “Bring Me Sunshine” cupcakes. Eventually, I was served with a tall glass of something yellow and icky, containing obscene amounts of advocaat. ‘So, what’s the plan? You’re prepared to live with him again, after everything he said?’

She shrugged. ‘That’s brothers and sisters for you. Remember the time you forgave Tom for refilling your tub of moisturiser with hair removal cream?’

I shuddered. A face full of fuzzy regrowth and peeling skin was not a good look.

‘And there’s not just me to think about now; he’s not just my brother anymore. He’s going to be an uncle.’ She chewed manically for a moment. ‘Julie’s taking him shopping, in Luton, at the weekend. We’ve agreed that Ryan and I will “accidentally” meet up.’

I squeezed her arm. ‘I’m glad you’re making plans for the two of you. That is, you and–’

‘Stieg Six?’ She gave a wry grin.

‘You seem more… not resigned to it all but–’

‘Melissa’s been great,’ she said, voice quieter. ‘What with her pregnancy magazines and vitamin tablets, I guess she’s helped me face reality. And your support… It’s meant everything to know I won’t be on my own. If I get to move back in with Ryan at least I can start making plans. The baby could have the small box room.’

‘So, how do you feel about… well, this cute bump becoming a screaming, pooing bundle of fun?’

‘You make it sound so appealing…’ Jess ran a finger around the top of her juice glass. ‘I…’ Her voice broke. ‘All I want is to be a decent mum. What if I screw up and can’t cope?’

‘Jess, you are one of the most capable people I know! Who put that collapsed pensioner, in the street, into the recovery position, last month?’

Her cheeks tinged pink.

‘And remember when a colleague of yours had a raging stomach ache and you insisted they go to the hospital? Their appendix was about to burst. You practically saved their life.’ I folded my arms. ‘You, my girl, are going to be one awesome mother.’

Jess’s cheeks flushed even redder. ‘You reckon?’

‘Yep – in fact, here’s more proof. Remember that computer game at school, where you had to look after a virtual animal – you know, feed it, play with it, take it for walks…? Mine always died within two days. You held the school record at twenty-one weeks.’

‘Wonder if I’ll manage a child for eighteen years,’ she muttered, though I could see a small sparkle in her eyes.

‘Do you feel any of that maternal instinct yet, that people talk about?’ I shot her a curious glance.

A smile crossed her face, its warmth making her eyes even twinklier. ‘I can’t wait to meet the baby, Kimmy,’ she whispered. ‘And hold it in my arms…’

We smiled at each other. This was good. Time – and Melissa – were helping Jess come to terms with becoming a mum.

‘Luke said he’d build you a cot if you like. Um, hope you don’t mind me telling him.’

‘Guess it’s not like I’m going to be able to hide it much longer.’

‘Have you been tempted to ring, you know, the, um dad – Phil?’