Page 36 of Only for Christmas

Lucas looked equally stunned. ‘Well, that’ll work.’ He closed the gap between them. ‘Maybe do it again, just to be certain he saw.’

‘Oh, he saw,’ she said, patting him on the chest. ‘And don’t push your luck, matey.’

Lucas laughed. ‘Can’t blame a guy for trying.’

She walked away with her head held high, even if there was a definite shake in her hands.

It felt good to have shocked both men. To act out of character. To have the upper hand. A little niggle also told her she’d lit a fuse, and there were bound to be repercussions, but for now, she was okay. Better than okay. Empowered. Even if she had resorted to climbing out of a window to escape Stephen.

She just hoped she knew what she was doing.

Chapter Eight

Tuesday, 13th December

Lucas had to ring the doorbell twice and repeatedly knock before he finally heard Mrs Kelsey shuffling along the hallway to answer the door. He knew she was home; he’d seen her curtains twitching when he’d arrived. If she thought ignoring him would make him give up and leave, she was mistaken. He could be stubborn too.

‘All right, all right… keep your hair on,’ she grumbled as she slowly opened her front door. ‘Where’s the bleedin’ fire?’

‘Hi there, Mrs Kelsey.’ He tried to charm her with a smile, but she wasn’t that easily won over and gave him a dirty look. ‘Are you going to let me in?’

Her bloodshot eyes narrowed. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘It’s Tuesday. We arranged for me to come over and give you a health check, remember?’

‘I don’t remember nothing of the sort. Go away.’ She tried to shut the door, but he wedged his foot in the gap.

‘That’s not very neighbourly. Can I at least come in for a cup of coffee? I’ve just finished a hectic shift at the hospital.’

‘Not my problem.’ But she shuffled away on her walking frame, leaving the door open, which he took as permission for him to follow.

The apartment was just as stale and messy as it had been at the weekend. A few mugs had reappeared in the lounge, along with two inhalers, but when he glanced in the kitchen, he spotted the same pile of washing-up by the sink. ‘Do you cook for yourself, Mrs Kelsey?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘I’m concerned you might not be taking care of yourself. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll make us a drink?’

‘Don’t you go calling the social on me,’ she said, shuffling over to an armchair and almost dropping into it, clearly lacking the strength to lower herself down. ‘I don’t want no busybodies coming over here and taking me off to one of them psychiatric places. I’ve still got all me marbles.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘I don’t need no fellas in white coats turning up and putting me in a straightjacket.’

Lucas ran a bowl of hot water and searched for washing-up liquid in the cupboard beneath the sink. ‘That’s not going to happen, Mrs Kelsey. I assure you, I won’t be contacting anyone without your permission.’ He found some Fairy liquid and added a large squirt to the water. ‘But I think you have a slightly outdated view on what help is available these days. There are all sorts of organisations that can provide support to ensure you stay living independently.’

‘Like what?’

He began washing up. ‘Someone to help around the home and run chores for you. Or perhaps a befriending service to provide company for you. It must get lonely living here by yourself.’

‘I don’t need the likes of you feeling sorry for me. And what are you doing in there?’

‘Just making myself useful, Mrs Kelsey. You didn’t have any clean mugs.’

She tutted. ‘Bloody busybody.’

‘You’re not the first person to accuse me of sticking my nose into other people’s business. I appreciate it can be annoying.’

‘Too bloody right it is.’

He smiled. ‘It’s not about feeling sorry for you – it’s about letting you know what services are out there that might improve your quality of life.’ He rinsed the dishes. ‘How’s that a bad thing?’

‘I don’t like strangers in my home.’

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