CHAPTER EIGHT
Hannah got to work fifteen minutes late, stumbling into the staffroom like a zombie just as the garden centre doors were being opened to the public. She threw off her jacket and studied herself in the mirror, then groaned at her wayward brown hair, hurriedly dragging it into a more professional-looking ponytail.
‘Your shirt buttons are done up wrong,’ Belle said behind her, closing her locker. She was a big girl, generous to a fault, with nearly waist-length red hair that Hannah would have killed for, and the loveliest smile. But, like Sam, she could be a bit of a prankster. She paused now on her way out to the shop floor, giving Hannah a wink. ‘Slept through the alarm this morning, did we?’
‘No, I … ’ Her voice tailed off, her brain too scrambled to reach for a plausible excuse.
Belle scrutinised Hannah more closely. ‘Hey, are you feeling okay? Poor thing, you look a bit peaky.’ Her eyes widened and she backed away. ‘I hope you’re not sickening for something. I’ve already had every bug out there this winter, I don’t want to go down with yet another mystery virus.’
‘I’m fine, honestly. Just feeling tired with all the Christmas rush,’ Hannah said, somewhat untruthfully, and kept her focus centred on rebuttoning her shirt.
Belle didn’t look convinced but since they both had a busy day ahead, she didn’t push it any further, much to Hannah’s relief. ‘Well, I’ve got some Vitamin C tablets in my locker. If you’d like some.’
‘No, thanks.’
She followed Belle out and started work on the tills first, then moved to the statuary section later, which was uneventful until a three-year-old girl with a scream like a siren managed to get her finger stuck so tightly in a wood knot hole, Hannah had to cut the section of wood out, ruining a fence panel in the process, so that her worried parents could take their shrieking child to hospital.
Rather you than me, she thought grimly, watching as the couple bundled the little girl into the back of their Volvo estate and screeched out of the car park. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for kids, and all the worry and responsibility that came with them. It was bad enough chasing Pepper in and out of her neighbours’ houses.
Which made her remember last night. Which made her think about Daniel and his phone call. Which made her breathing quicken and her chest hurt.
Not to mention her heart.
The harder she tried not to think about Daniel, the more he crept into her mind, dark and malignant, like an annoying mental tic she could not seem to shake. Last night had been … Well, it still sent tingles through her, thinking about the way he had made love to her. So passionate, yet so considerate too. Then he had left her cringing at her own naivety. But of course that was her usual experience with men. The sex might be great; it was what came after that always messed with her head. And she had to hand it to Daniel. He was a prize bastard. How could he make love to her so wonderfully, then say ‘I love you’ to somebody else on the phone, with Hannah still lying upstairs in his bed?
Humiliation crawled up her spine, and she made such a contorted ‘Ugh’ face that an elderly couple admiring the outdoor statues and stone benches hurried away from her in alarm.
What an idiot she was!
She did not want to make herself feel worse. But how could she have imagined any sort of meaningful relationship with a man like Daniel, someone who lived at the other end of the country, for a start, and who also happened to hang out with Hollywood stars occasionally?
She should put him to the back of her mind, and focus on improving her career chances instead. That was the best way forward out of this mess.
Hannah spent her lunch break alone in the staffroom with a calculator, totting up her savings and her monthly outgoings, and wondering how much she could borrow from the bank towards a business start-up. She knew enough about landscape gardening to impress the bank manager. But perhaps not enough about finances and accounting.
She sighed, throwing aside the calculator. No matter how many times she did the sums, the answer came out the same.
Without a guarantor, she would need at least another year’s worth of savings before she could even think about starting her own business. With her numbers, and a shaky at best business plan, the bank would turn her down flat.
But if she accepted the promotion Mr Turner had offered her, she’d be tied up for too long. The raise would be handy though, she could not deny that. She might even be able to treat herself to a short holiday somewhere sunny early next year, and shake off the man blues on some white, sandy beach with a cocktail in hand.
Right now, with her heart all squashed and crumpled out of shape like an old hat, an exotic break seemed like the perfect solution.
Still, it would mean shelving her career plans for another couple of years. Which was not ideal. So, by the time she knocked on the door to Mr Turner’s office at the end of the day, she was feeling down. Not even Chadwick could cheer her up, despite strutting up and down the boss’s desk with a knowing expression, making beeping noises that sounded suspiciously like Facebook notifications.
‘Come about the promotion, have you?’ Mr Turner looked at her over the tops of his glasses, his tone a touch impatient. ‘So, lass, what’ve you decided, then?’
‘I’ll take the job, thank you.’
The bottom line was, she could use the increase in pay, and it would be useful experience too. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she waved goodbye to all those youthful dreams of starting up her own business before the age of thirty.
‘That’s smashing news.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ll get you signed up for the extra training. I think the course starts in March. Good job, by the way, in helping that kiddy this morning. Her dad’s just rung and she’s going to be fine. No permanent damage, thank goodness.’ He rolled his eyes, which was an alarming thing to watch. ‘I thought he’d rung to say he was planning to sue us. Not that it was our fault, mind you. Blooming kid sticking her finger where it don’t belong. But good to know there’ll be no come-back. All’s well that ends well, eh?’
‘Yes, Mr Turner.’
‘Off you pop, then. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to get through before I go home.’ Already picking up his pen again, he waved at her vaguely. ‘Well done again for everything … erm … Hannah. Good job.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
She turned to the door. All’s well that ends well, she found herself repeating silently. But did that mean the inverse was true? That all’s bad that ends badly?
She grimaced, thinking again of Daniel this morning, mouthing sweet nothings to some invisible lover on the phone, and her depressing, one-shoed escape through the snow …
Hannah was halfway through the door when Mr Turner suddenly called her back. ‘Oh, hang on a minute! I nearly forgot. I’d like you to organise a short concert too.’
She blinked. ‘A concert?’
‘Christmas carols with mulled wine and mince pies. Nothing too grand, mind. Just to draw in a few extra customers on Christmas Eve.’ He winked. ‘For all those last-minute gift bargains, you know.’
‘Right.’
‘I thought it would be a morale boost for the staff too,’ Mr Turner continued cheerily. ‘They can sing a few carols, and maybe encourage the customers to join in, while we serve festive refreshments to get them in the mood for spending money.’ His eyes gleamed with a sudden idea. ‘We’ll put out a bucket or two to collect donations for a local charity. It should be a good do.’
What could she say?
‘The local charity collection is a good idea,’ she said grudgingly. ‘I’ll put up a list in the staffroom, see who I can persuade to volunteer.’
She imagined trying to urge Sam to sing the Little Drummer Boy in public, perhaps wearing a festive woollen cap and scarf, and had to stifle a giggle.
Maybe Mr Turner was right, after all. Maybe it would be good for staff morale to enjoy a sing-song together and some warmed mince pies – not to mention a small but powerful noggin of mulled wine for everyone! – before they all broke up for the Christmas celebrations. If nothing else, it would at least provide them with some entertainment at what was always a highly stressful time of year for the garden centre staff.
‘That’s the spirit,’ he said, and nodded her to leave. ‘Thanks, Anna.’
‘Hannah,’ she corrected him.
He looked up from his paperwork, distracted. ‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing important, Mr Turner,’ she said, and closed the office door, adding under her breath, ‘Only my name, that’s all.’
After telling her astonished colleagues about her big promotion to Junior Manager, and being hugged and congratulated, Hannah cycled home in the dark, her bicycle light thinly picking out the route as she went. The snow had turned to slush, and the wind had dropped, and although it was still very cold, the sky was clear of clouds and she could see an early star up above. But a hard frost would be coming soon, she’d seen it on the weather report, so she’d probably have to start taking her car to work, which she kept parked-up round the back of the cottages most of the time, only to be used for bad weather and supermarket shopping trips – and emergencies, of course. Not that she ever had any of those, she thought ruefully, unless you counted her impending emotional breakdown …
She couldn’t help looking up the drive of Abbey Villa as she rode past. The lights were on, but Daniel was out in the garden, struggling to put some weather-proof fairy lights on one of the trees. He waved at her and called out something, but Hannah pretended she hadn’t heard him and ignored that raised hand. Hurriedly, head bent, she pushed her bike round the back of her house and locked it in the shed, then let herself in through the back door.
She didn’t want to see him or speak to him again.
Ever.
Next day at work, he called her mobile. But she turned off her phone without answering. Well, she could hardly take a personal call when she was working, could she?
He then left several voice messages, which she deleted without listening to them. There was no point hearing his excuses, or further invitations to dinner, since she wasn’t going to see him again.
Besides which, she was secretly terrified that she’d give in and go round to see him again if she heard his voice.
A day later, he sent her a brief text.
Missing you. How about dinner?
She ignored that too, but couldn’t quite bring herself to delete it, taking out her phone occasionally to read his message again and again, as thought it held some deep significance that she hadn’t yet worked out. But all it held was five unrevealing words. And an invitation she was never planning to take up, thank you very much.
A couple of days passed with no further communication.
Had he finally given up?
That was exactly what she wanted, so why did she keep scowling at everyone at work and couldn’t even bring herself to tell Pepper off when he destroyed the Christmas tree for the umpteenth time? She ought to be dancing about with glee, or throwing a celebratory party, or maybe drinking herself into an early grave …
Meanwhile, there was the Christmas Eve carol concert to organise.
She would have had more luck trying to nail a blancmange to the ceiling, she kept thinking, wearily trying to persuade her colleagues – some of them now under her command, following her promotion to Junior Manager, which was an odd thing to get used to – that they a.) could sing, and b.) wanted to join her Christmas choir.
‘Katy, please sing for me. Please, please, pretty please?’ Hannah had resorted to trying to irritate Katy and Sam into agreeing by simply begging them every time she saw them, hands pressed together as though in prayer. ‘Belle has agreed to sing. Belle, of all people. So if she can, surely you … ’
‘No,’ Katy said flatly, up on a stepladder, restocking the top festive shelf with assorted Christmas ornaments, including a range of grotesque table-top gnomes wearing Santa hats. ‘My gran used to take me to Midnight Mass when I was a kid. I couldn’t stand carol-singing then, and I won’t sing now. All that high-pitched warbling … It does my head in.’
‘This is raising money for a good cause, though.’
Katy stopped what she was doing and glanced down at her. ‘Christmas Party drinks kitty?’
‘No,’ Hannah said slowly. ‘The animal rescue centre.’
‘Sorry, you lost me at no.’
Exasperated, Hannah folded her arms, glaring up at her former partner-in-crime, who was now apparently determined to make her life difficult. ‘Okay, you leave me no choice.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Things are going to get ugly.’
Katy waved a festive mini-gnome at her. ‘This ugly, you mean?’
Kneeling a few feet away, placing new fake gift parcels under the main Christmas tree, Sam grinned. ‘Oh, that was sharp. Katy 1, Hannah nil.’
Hannah’s phone buzzed, and she couldn’t resist having a quick look at who was calling.
Daniel.
She put it back in her dungarees pocket and focussed a glare on her two colleagues. ‘Remind me, who usually cleans out the hen house?’
The smile dropped from Sam’s lips.
‘Uh huh,’ Hannah said, nodding as she saw comprehension dawning in their eyes. ‘Who swaps shifts with you when you go out at the weekend, so you can sleep off the hangovers?’ Sam shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and Katy looked worried. ‘Because you two owe me a favour. A whole year’s worth of favours, in fact.’
‘That’s blackmail.’
‘I think you’ll find it isn’t,’ Hannah told Katy smugly. ‘In fact, isn’t the hen coop due a proper clean-out today? Now, I wonder whose turn it is this week?’ Her phone vibrated insistently again but she continued to ignore it.
Sam groaned. ‘That’s just plain mean.’
‘So is refusing to sing in the carol concert for charity.’ She turned to her friend. ‘What do you prefer, Katy? Hen coop scrubbing or singing in the choir? And you, Sam? Were you hoping to be out late this weekend? Because you’re going to have to be up early the next day to make it into work.’
Katy pouted. ‘Oh, all right, I’ll sing. I can’t believe how cruel you are, Hannah. I always thought you were nice.’
‘Sam?’
‘I guess I don’t have a choice,’ Sam said with bad grace.
‘Of course you do, Sam. You don’t have to go out at the weekend.’
‘Just don’t complain when you hear me singing,’ he said, visibly sulking. ‘I sound like a hippo with a bad cold.’
Hannah laughed. ‘A hippo with a – ’
‘Hannah to the office, please.’ Camilla’s voice came over the tannoy, sounding oddly tense. ‘Urgent phone call for Hannah.’
Hannah stared at her friends in silent dismay, then turned and raced for the office. What on earth was this about?
Camilla was at the door, and pointed her inside the office with one red-painted fingernail. ‘Go on,’ she said impatiently, ‘he’s holding for you.’
‘He?’
But Camilla merely shrugged and stalked away, her air disapproving as she flicked back a wedge of ash-blonde hair.
Hannah’s heart was thumping unnaturally loudly. But she forced herself to enter the office with her spine straight and shoulders back, pretending she wasn’t worried. She was a Junior Manager now. She needed to get used to receiving urgent calls, and hanging round the office like Camilla always did.
Mr Turner was seated on the edge of the desk, one leg swinging, Chadwick on his shoulder, chatting on the phone in an animated fashion. When he saw her though, he jumped off the desk and muttered, ‘Well, she’s here now, so … Nice to speak to you.’ Then he held out the telephone handset. ‘Quick now, Hannah, it’s an emergency.’
Hannah took the receiver, her hands a little clammy. ‘H-Hello?’
‘It’s Daniel.’
She gaped, caught her boss’s curious eye, and hurriedly turned her back on him. ‘Daniel? ‘What on earth are you doing, ringing me at work like this?’ Her voice was practically a squeak. ‘On the office number, too.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry to ring you at work. But you weren’t answering your mobile.’
Her cheeks flared with heat. ‘Oh, um, yes, I was … busy.’
‘No problem, I understand,’ he said, surprising her with his matter-of-fact tone. ‘The thing is, there’s been an accident.’
Her heart skittered. ‘A - An accident?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid it’s Pepper.’
‘Pepper?’ She nearly dropped the handset in fright. ‘Oh my god.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s all under control. He had a close encounter with some motorbikers earlier this afternoon, and I took him to the vet myself.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t want to wait until you got home. I hope that’s okay.’
‘But how is he?’
‘Well, the vet’s checking him over now. But as soon as Pepper gets the all-clear, I’ll take him back to Abbey Villa, and look after him there until you get home.’
Hannah thanked him, and put the phone down, feeling quite unwell. What if Pepper was badly hurt? What if she lost him?
She did not think she could bear that.
Mr Turner put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and said kindly, ‘Off you go, lass. Take care of your cat.’ As she hurried to the door, stammering more thank-you’s, he called after her, ‘And don’t worry about your duties. I’ve asked Camilla to cover for you.’
So that was why his daughter had looked at her so sourly!
Hannah raced home with the energy of a teenager, she was so frantic to see how badly hurt Pepper was, skidding her bike to a gravelly stop outside Abbey Villa, dropping it on the drive and racing to the door. It was ajar, so she pushed inside, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself again.
Last time she had seen Daniel, she had been silently cursing his name. Then she had ignored his messages and refused to take his calls.
Would he be cold and aloof after the way she had treated him?
‘Daniel?’
‘In here.’
Hannah found Daniel in the living room, sitting on the generous sofa with Pepper curled up on a cushion beside him. The cat’s front paws were bandaged and he wasn’t looking pleased.
‘Oh Pepper, my poor baby.’
She crossed the room, all her attention on her injured pet, and completely missed the ankle-high obstacle in her path. She tripped over Ivy’s fabric-covered footstool, tried to keep her balance with a series of little hops, but went flying nonetheless, arms outstretched to break her fall. Hannah caught a glimpse of Daniel’s startled expression before she landed across his lap with a loud, ‘Oomph!’
‘Careful,’ he said, catching her with strong arms before she rolled onto the floor. She could hear the laughter in his voice, low in her ear. ‘You’ll frighten Pepper. And I think he’s had enough scares for one day, don’t you?’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Pepper,’ she said, awkwardly reaching out to stroke the cat’s head, relieved to hear his deep, thrumming purr in response.
He couldn’t be hurt that badly if he could still purr, she thought.
Then she looked up into Daniel’s face. ‘How can I ever … thank you?’ Words failed as her as his gaze met hers. Her tongue seemed to be sticking to the top of her mouth in a most uncomfortable way. ‘I mean … ’ She belatedly realised she was still lying partially on his lap, and tried to right herself, muttering, ‘Thank you.’
Daniel wrapped his arms around her to stop her from rolling off his knee. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he insisted.
‘Wh-What is it?’
Embarrassed, and with Daniel’s knee causing some discomfort by digging into her hip, Hannah pushed herself up and found herself looking straight into Daniel’s beautiful green eyes.
‘You didn’t have to, you know,’ he said softly.
‘Didn’t have to what?’ Hannah whispered, all rational thought flown away under the magic of his scent, familiar warmth and just sheer…closeness.
‘Fall on me,’ he said, holding her gaze, ‘just to get a kiss.’
It took a few seconds to register the meaning of what he’d just said, then she gasped. ‘Why, you cheeky – ’
He laughed, grabbing her hand as she went to mock-slap him. ‘Temper, temper. What would your cat say?’
‘He’d say you are a very bad man.’
Daniel grinned and said something in response, but Hannah hardly noticed his answer, all her attention on his mouth with its sensuous lower lip. She licked hers, like a person contemplating a treat, and his own gaze watched that movement hypnotically. There was some kind of bond between them, she felt, and he was using it to reel her in, leaning fractionally closer himself.
‘Hannah?’
Her name was a whispered question. She answered by pressing her lips against his already parted ones, their tongues sliding together, duelling, parting and exploring. The unique taste of Daniel, rich and male, curled around her senses and down into her lungs.
Daniel’s arm tightened around her waist, dragging her closer, until her breasts were pressed against his chest. The kiss went on, deep and headily sweet, breaking through Hannah’s defences, such as they were.
He was probably taking advantage of her, she thought vaguely.
She didn’t care anymore.
He pushed her backwards on the sofa, and she went willingly, loving how his masculine weight pushed her into the cushions. Pepper stared at them both the other end of the sofa, then his eyes narrowed to slits and he dropped comfortably back into sleep. Daniel’s mouth sipped at the pulse beating in her throat, and from there he traced every one of her erogenous zones. He tasted her skin when it was revealed by his clever fingers, inch by painstaking inch, as he undid the buttons of her shirt.
Hannah explored him with equal thoroughness, stroking and kissing his chest, framing his biceps, caressing the strong column of his neck, and tangling her fingers in his hair. Soon, he had removed her work dungarees, and his own trousers, and she lost sight of where she ended and Daniel began. There was none of that clumsy urgency from their first night together. This time, their lovemaking was deeper, more tender, and when it was over, it felt to Hannah as though her world had been taken apart and remade differently.
Afterwards, when they had reluctantly disentangled themselves, Hannah sat next to Daniel, wrapped in a blanket for warmth and drinking the mug of hot chocolate he had made for her. He was wearing his trousers again, but was still bare-chested, and she amused herself by silently wondering exactly how many hairs he had on his chest …
She glanced sleepily around for her cat, who had removed himself to a strategic distance during their lovemaking.
Pepper, she realised, was sitting in front of the fire chewing nonchalantly at his bandages.
‘Pepper, no!’ she said urgently, clicking her fingers at him. ‘Don’t eat those. The vet won’t like it.’
Hearing his name, Pepper sauntered over to Hannah and leapt onto her knee instead. He tried kneading the blanket despite his bandages.
‘Oh, you silly cat. Be careful you don’t hurt yourself.’
Gently, Daniel scratched Pepper’s head, who closed his eyes in ecstasy and started purring. ‘He may be silly but he’s a lucky cat too,’ he said softly, ‘coming out of a confrontation with those bikers with nothing worse than a few missing claws to show for it.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s used up a life, for sure.’
‘Poor Pepper,’ Hannah said, stroking her cat. ‘Did those nasty hairy bikers hurt you and rob you of a life? Mr Smirthwaite will soon sort them out if they come back.’ She hugged Pepper even closer, the thought of his near-miss making her shiver.
‘Remind me to give you the antibiotics that the vet prescribed,’ Daniel said, studying her thoughtfully, ‘but for now, what you need is this.’
He leant forward and kissed her on the lips.
She knew what they were doing was crazy, that it could only end badly. But she could not seem to resist his charm. Or his incredibly hot body, she thought wryly.
Her eyes closed under his kiss, and she began to drift away, blocking out everything but what he was doing to her.
Their dreamy mood was broken by the sound of a phone. ‘Pay no attention,’ Daniel said against her lips. The phone stopped but then almost immediately started ringing again. Daniel swore and put down his hot chocolate, standing up. ‘Sorry. I’d better answer this, it might be urgent.’
He found his mobile in his trouser pocket. ‘Hello, Melody,’ he said, turning away and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Yes, I am busy actually.’ He paused, then said quickly, ‘Oh, come on, love. Don’t be like that.’
For Hannah, it was the outside of enough. How could she be so dumb?
Once, yes. But twice, for god’s sake?
She scrambled off the sofa, upsetting Pepper who mewed in irritation, and began searching for her clothes. Her bra was hanging from the coffee table, and she found her undies dangling over the back of the sofa.
Pulling them on swiftly, she lurched across to retrieve her very unsexy work dungarees, and tripped over that damn footstool again, swearing under her breath …
But it was too late.
Daniel had turned back, and seen her in her bra and undies, dungarees dangling from one hand. His brows jerked together in a sudden frown, and he held the mobile flat against his bare chest, staring.
‘Where are you going?’