Page 3 of Only for Christmas

‘Don’t get too comfy; I’m not allowed pets where I live. This will be a short-term arrangement. One night only, you understand? And that’s not something I usually do. I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. Not that I’m a commitment kind of girl, either. I don’t do relationships, so count yourself lucky. You’ve caught me in a weak moment.’

His eyes never left hers, and he seemed to nod in understanding as she rambled away, rapidly getting more out of breath as she headed across the bridge, her arms aching from the dog’s weight.

She half expected his owner to appear at any moment and accuse her of dognapping, but no one did. Poor thing, no one wanted him. She knew the feeling.

By the time she reached Oxford Road, where she lived, she was panting.

‘You know, this is not how I envisaged spending the night,’ she said, climbing the concrete steps from the street level up to the three-storey Victorian semi. Once a grand dwelling, the building was now converted into three flats. ‘I’m regretting living on the top floor.’

Before she could escape from view, the basement door flew open and Diana Kelsey appeared like an angry demon, her fleece kaftan and slippers no match for the cold, but her neighbourhood watch instincts defying the weather.

‘Who are you talking to?’ she demanded, her husky voice cutting through the icy air as she held on to the doorframe, a cigarette burning away in her hand. Even in the dim light, her dyed blonde hair was visible, glowing under the weak street lights. ‘Have you been drinking?’ Which was ironic, seeing as Diana’s recycling bin was overflowing with empty wine bottles.

‘Just talking to myself, Mrs Kelsey.’

‘What’s that you’re carrying in your arms?’

Oh, hell. ‘Er… my dinner.’ She almost felt the dog flinch. He wasn’t the only one panicking. Diana was not the type of neighbour to turn a blind eye. ‘I stopped off at the shops to get myself a few provisions. You know what it’s like, you go in for one thing, you end up buying half the shop.’ She was rambling.

‘You’re rambling.’

‘You’re right, I’m rambling. Sorry, it’s been a long day.’ She gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Anyway, best get going. Dinner to prepare. Have a good evening, Diana.’

‘It’s Mrs Kelsey to you,’ the woman yelled after her.

‘Right, sorry. My mistake. I don’t want to keep you outside in the cold, Mrs Kelsey. Why don’t you head inside.’ Her legs felt heavy as she climbed the steps.

‘I’ll go inside when I’m good and ready. I don’t need you dictating what I can and can’t do. I’m seventy-five, not ninety-five.’

Sarah nearly dropped the dog. Diana was only seventy-five? She’d thought her neighbour was older. A lot older. Thank goodness she’d never said anything. ‘Night, Mrs Kelsey.’

Far from heading inside, Diana watched her, a suspicious expression on her face as Sarah tried to open the door without revealing the dog or dropping him. Thankfully, he stayed quiet, as if sensing discovery would result in him being shipped off to Battersea Dogs & Cats Home.

Once inside, Sarah kicked the door shut and took a deep breath before heading up the next flight of stairs. A faint light seeped from under the doorway of the first-floor flat, indicating someone was staying there. She didn’t have much in common with her grumpy downstairs neighbour, but their shared annoyance when the owner of Flat 2 moved out and advertised the place as an Airbnb momentarily bonded them. They’d been subjected to all manner of tenants, from loud stag parties to members of an unusual religious order, to drunken Oxbridge students wanting to cheer on their team at the famous boat race. Whoever the latest visitor was, she hoped their stay was of short duration, and they refrained from chanting, smoking weed and all-night partying. Her patience was wearing thin.

Her arms were numb by the time she fell through her flat door and lowered the dog to the floor. He shook out his fur and cowered on her prized oriental rug.

‘Don’t you dare pee,’ she said, flicking on the overhead light to get a better look at him. Shortish legs, long body, floppy ears, and brown and white patchy fur. ‘Well, hello there, Fred.’

He cocked his head, as if intrigued by her choice of name.

‘You remind me of a cartoon strip my granny used to like. Fred Basset.’ She pointed to her bathroom. ‘It’s hard to tell under all that dirt. Bath time.’

He started backing away.

‘I hate to break it to you, Fred… but you stink.’

Ignoring his indignant whining, she picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. ‘You know, this is the first time I’ve had a male in my flat since moving in.’ As if sensing this was a significant turning point in her life, he licked her cheek. Grimacing, she pinned him with a steely look. ‘Don’t get too comfy. This is a temporary situation. You hear me? I cannot have a dog. It’s against tenancy rules.’

If she wasn’t mistaken, his expression said, We’ll see about that, and Sarah was left wondering if it was too early in the evening to follow Diana’s lead and open a large bottle of something very alcoholic.

She had a feeling she was going to need it.

Chapter Two

Friday, 2nd December

Having spent his first twenty-four hours in the UK trying to recover from jetlag and a bad aeroplane meal that had left him feeling nauseous and fearful of contracting campylobacter, Lucas Moore was ready to see his family.

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