A Mistletoe Proposal

‘Don’t tell me what I believe.’

‘I will because someone’s got to show you how to see yourself straight. You’re as beautiful inside as you are out.’

She pulled herself up on the bed so that she could see him better in the dim light and pull his hands down.

‘We’ve known each other only a few days,’ she reminded him.

‘I’ve known you a lot longer than that. I knew it when I saw you in the graveyard, swapping jokes with a headstone. It was the kind of mad, daft-’

‘Mutton-headed,’ she supplied.

‘Glorious, wonderful-I knew then that you had some secret that was hidden from me, that you could teach it to me and then I’d know something that would make life possible.’

He lay looking up at her, defenceless, all armour gone, nothing left but the painful honesty with which he reached out to her.

Pippa felt dizzy, knowing that she’d come to one of those moments when everything in her life might depend on what she did now. Roscoe’s eyes told her that this was her decision, and she was stunned by how quickly it had come to pass. Just a few days.

He was reasonably attractive without being handsome. Yet the experience he’d given her tonight-of peace, joy and safety-had astounded her by outshining all other experiences in her life, and now the desire to kiss him was the strongest she had ever known. The tantalising half kiss he’d once given her had lived with her ever since, taunting and teasing her onwards to discover everything about him.

His eyes asked a silent question. Would she kiss him? The decision was hers.

And yes! Yes! The answer was yes!

As she adjusted her position he saw her intention and opened his arms. A little smile curved her lips, one she hoped he would understand. He did understand. The same smile was there on his own lips as she leaned forward, closer-closer-

The doorbell shrieked.

In an instant the spell died. They froze in dismay.

‘At this hour of night?’ Pippa whispered, aghast.

Stiffly, she moved off the bed and made her way to the front door, calling, ‘Who is it?’

The voice that answered appalled her.

‘Pippa? It’s Charlie. Let me in.’

She turned to see Roscoe standing in the bedroom doorway. Horrified, they stared at each other. Nothing more terrible could have happened.

‘Let me in,’ Charlie cried.

‘No, I can’t,’ Pippa called back. ‘Charlie, go home; it’s late. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘Oh, please, Pippa. I’ve got something to say that you’ll be glad to hear. Open up!’ He rapped on the door.

‘Stop making so much noise,’ she cried. ‘You’ll wake my neighbours. Just give me a minute.’

She was talking for the sake of it while her gaze frantically went around the apartment, seeking evidence of Roscoe’s presence. He was doing the same, seizing his baggage, hurrying with it into the bedroom. When he was safely out of sight, Pippa opened her front door.

Charlie immediately came flying through and seized her in his arms.

‘What…what do you think you’re doing?’ she spluttered.

‘Telling you that I’ve given in. I’ll do it your way. I’ll tell the police about Ginevra. I’ve been thinking for hours, and I know I have to do what you think is right.’ He searched her face. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’

‘Pleased?’ she snapped. ‘Of all the selfish schoolboy pranks-waking me at this hour to tell me something you could have sent in a text message. How old are you? Ten?’

She was consumed by rage. At this moment she could almost have hated the silly self-centred boy.

‘Oh, sorry!’ he said. ‘Yes, I suppose it is a bit late.’

‘Get out, now!’

Reading dire retribution in her eyes, he backed out hastily, gabbling, ‘All right, all right. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

He was gone.

She listened as the footsteps faded, followed by the sound of the elevator going down. Roscoe emerged from the bedroom, walking slowly, not coming too close to her.

The memory of what had so nearly happened was burning within her. Another moment and she would have been in his arms, kissing him and receiving his kiss in return. She had wanted that so much and come so close-so close-and it had been cruelly snatched away.

What she saw when she looked at him made a cold hand clutch her heart. His face was calm and untroubled. Whatever had happened to her, no earthquake had shaken him.

‘I’d better leave now,’ he said.

‘No!’ she said urgently. ‘That’s what you can’t do. He might linger downstairs, and then he’d see you.’

Going to the window, she drew the curtain an inch and looked into the street below.

‘There’s his new car,’ she murmured. ‘But there’s no sign of him. I reckon he’s still in the hall, planning to come back up here.’

‘You’re right,’ Roscoe groaned. ‘I’ll have to stay for a while. Sorry.’

A few minutes earlier she’d felt him tremble in her arms and known that he would gladly remain all night. Now he spoke as though staying with her was a duty that he dreaded.

‘I’ll stay out here,’ he said, settling on the sofa. ‘You take the bedroom.’

The spell was broken. And that was good, she tried to tell herself. She’d had enough of spells.

She lay awake for the rest of the night, and finally went out to find Roscoe on the phone to Angela.

‘Charlie’s arrived home,’ he said as he hung up.

‘Don’t mention Charlie to me,’ she said crossly. ‘Turning up like that in the middle of the night! Does he think nobody has a life apart from him? I feel really sorry for your mother, pinning so many of her hopes on that overgrown infant.’

She was still full of nerves or she would have been careful not to say the next words.

‘She’s had so much to bear in her life already. Losing your father, knowing he killed himself-’

Too late, she saw the strange look on Roscoe’s face.

‘How did you know that?’ he asked. ‘Charlie, I suppose?’

‘I already knew. David said something.’

‘So you’ve known from the start. You never mentioned it to me.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t like it, and it was none of my business.’

‘That’s right,’ he said lightly. ‘Well, I’d better be going.’

She could have kicked herself. Roscoe’s cool tension told her more than any words that he resented her for what she’d just revealed. In time, he might have told her, but he disliked her knowing without his being aware.

‘I’ll make you some breakfast,’ she offered.

‘No, I’d better be off. I’ll be in touch.’

She doubted it. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

There was nothing to do but stand back while he collected his things. Suddenly a chill wind was blowing. He gave her a polite smile, thanked her for everything, just as he should, but something was mysteriously over. Worst of all was the fact that she couldn’t be sure what had ended, because she didn’t know what had begun. She only knew that the sense of aching loss was unbearable.

Then a strange thing happened. Charlie became elusive. He didn’t call, wasn’t in his office and his cellphone was switched off. Without him, the trip to the police had to be postponed.

After two days, Roscoe texted: Is Charlie with you?

She texted back: I was about to ask you the same thing.

The next time Pippa’s work phone rang it was the last person in the world she’d expected to hear from.

‘Biddy-or should I call you Ginevra? Where are you?’

‘Abroad; that’s all you need to know. Charlie’s a real gent, I’ll say that for him. I’m not coming back but I’ve written to the police and told them it was me in the shop, not him. I wasn’t going to, but then I got to thinking I