Christmas in the city has never been more magical!

Professional organiser Kate Stone has never – NEVER – been tempted to hit a client over the head with a snow shovel, but Michael O’Farrell is the most obnoxious – and heart-stoppingly gorgeous – man she has ever met. If he weren’t her best friend’s brother, she would not have waited on his doorstep in the freezing cold for five minutes, let alone an hour.

Kate knows, however, that her job isn’t just about tidying up, sometimes she needs to be part therapist too, and Michael clearly needs her help to declutter his heart as well as his home.

But with the festive season just around the corner there isn’t much time to get Michael’s house ready for the O’Farrell family celebrations, but everyone knows that at Christmas anything can happen...

The Christmas Project

Maxine Morrey

HQ

The Christmas Project

© 2016 Maxine Morrey

by HQ, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

ISBN: 9781474057394

Version: 2018-01-24

MAXINE MORREY

has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember and wrote her first (very short) book for school when she was ten. Coming in first, she won a handful of book tokens – best prize ever at the time!

As time went by, she continued to write, but ‘normal’ work often got in the way. Finally, she decided to go for it, and wrote. Really wrote. And after a while she had a bunch of articles, and a non-fiction book to her name.

But her first love is novels, and, in August 2015, Maxine got the call to say that she had won Carina UK’s ‘Write Christmas’ competition, with her romantic comedy, ‘Winter’s Fairytale’

Maxine lives on the south coast of England, and when not wrangling with words, can be found tackling her To Be Read pile, sewing, listening to podcasts, and walking.

Her website is: www.scribblermaxi.co.uk

You can also find her on Twitter @Scribbler_Maxi

On Facebook www.facebook.com/MaxineMorreyAuthor

On Instagram @Scribbler_Maxi

On Pinterest @ScribblerMaxi

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the team at Carina UK/HQ, especially my amazing Editor, Victoria Oundjian, without whose incredible support and continued belief in me, this book may never have come to be.

I’d also like to say an enormous thank you to the very wonderful Emma Dellow for her friendship, kindness and support. All of it has meant so very much to me, especially this year, and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I value you. Big, big hugs.

Another huge thank you goes to all the absolutely incredible book bloggers whom I met through their support of my Carina debut last November. You are all such fabulous people and your support is valued so much. I was very much in at the deep end last year and you all were so kind and helpful and supportive, and I am incredibly thankful for that. You’re all complete superstars.

And finally, I’d like to thank James – for everything.

Dedication

To Mum and Dad

Thank you for introducing me to the joy of words and reading from such a young age. Even though I know now how precious little time you had to call your own as you both worked so very hard, library trips and encouragement in my reading was never in short supply. Thank you.

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Excerpt

Chapter One

I peered down at my feet and wondered exactly how many toes I’d have left when I finally got home this evening. It was totally possible to get frostbite in North London, right? The snow that had been threatening all afternoon had finally begun to fall about half an hour ago, right around the same time I’d lost all feeling in every single one of my extremities. It had already started settling and the heavy flakes now falling looked set to continue all night. And yet, here I was, huddled under an umbrella that was doing very little for the bottom half of my body, still waiting.

Had I known I was going to be stood outside, freezing my backside off whilst waiting for a client who was, at this point – I checked my watch – exactly fifty-seven minutes late, I would have worn my fur-lined boots rather than the gorgeous four-inch heeled Mary Janes that currently adorned my feet. Still, on the upside, I was at least fully colour-coordinated: My nose now matched my scarlet shoes and lipstick, and my hands and feet were likely a fetching shade of blue to tone perfectly with my tailored navy wool coat. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the screen again - no new messages or missed calls. I’d give it precisely three more minutes and then I was off.

I gave another glance up to the house. In contrast to many others I’d passed down this avenue, there was no clue here that we were in the midst of the countdown to Christmas. No tree twinkled with fairy lights in the beautiful bay window, no decorations or cards lined the windowsill. Outside, in the tiny bit of garden that was left from making it into a parking space, instead of illuminated reindeer and snowmen, the border was filled with blackened, soggy annuals left over from the summer. The other houses looked warm and welcoming. This one appeared cold and impersonal.

I stamped my feet, trying to kick-start the circulation, all the while hoping not to break off any icicled digits. Next door, a late model 4X4 pulled up and two designer-clad children tumbled out the back doors, laughing as they charged up the path. From the driver’s seat emerged one of the yummy mummies the area was well-known for. I surreptitiously admired her crocheted beanie as she busied herself unloading the car. She wore it with the assured style of Kate Moss, and looked fabulous. I knew from experience the moment I put one on my head it magically transformed into a tea cosy. Bit unfair.

The deep, throaty rumble of a powerful motorbike caught my attention. As I looked up, the cyclops-like headlight flashed across me as it turned into the driveway on which I was standing, coming to a stop almost beside me. With a final throttle blip, the engine fell silent. The rider kicked out its stand and then swung a long leg over to dismount before turning to me. A hand lifted and flicked the visor up. Vivid green eyes looked out as the figure towered about me.

‘Can I help you?’ The tone was deep, Irish accented, and less than friendly.

‘Are you Mr O’Farrell?’

‘That would depend on who’s asking.’

‘Hello Michael,’ Yummy Mummy called, several designer shopping bags looped over each arm. She flashed Motorbike Boy a stunning smile that showed impossibly white, perfectly straight teeth.

‘Evening Tamara.’

It was impossible to tell if he was smiling as he hadn’t yet removed his crash helmet. But I took a wild guess at no, judging by those eyes.

‘Good day?’ she pursued. Her gaze flicked briefly over me before returning to focus on her neighbour.

He gave a non-committal shrug that made his leathers creak. ‘You know how it is.’

She tilted her head and pulled a sympathetic face, oozing empathy and understanding.

Yeah, right, I thought, doubting very much that she had a clue what it was ‘like’, at all.

‘Well, if you ever need anything, you know where I am.’

Mentally, I raised my eyebrows so high they barely connected with my face. Physically I kept my face impassive. I saw the man glance at me, briefly, before he replied. I studied my feet for a moment as I considered the possibility that my ‘impassive’ face may need some work.

‘I do, thanks.’

She gave him another full-wattage smile before moving gracefully up the steps and in through the large black painted front door.

The man turned his attention back to me and tilted his head in question, apparently still awaiting a reply to his enquiry.

‘My name is Kate Stone.’ The name didn’t seem to spark any recognition. ‘You had an appointment with me for six o’clock this evening.’

He lifted his arm and wiggled his wrist a little until a watch face peeked out enough from his sleeve to see the time.

‘It’s gone seven.’

‘Yes. It is.’

‘So why are you still here?’

This is exactly why I hate doing favours for friends. My business was in demand and had a waiting list. Without trying to sound smug, I didn’t need this. Ordinarily there was no way I would have waited so long for a client to show. Add that to the fact that there was no explanation or even attempt at apology for his lateness, and my patience was being severely tested. But Janey had begged me to come and help her brother, even paying for the initial consultation herself. I’d rearranged other clients and missed my yoga class tonight because, according to him, six o’clock was the only time he could possibly make it this week. Or not apparently.

‘I suppose you’d better come in before you freeze to death.’

‘Thanks. I’d hate to inconvenience you by croaking on your doorstep,’ I mumbled.

‘Sorry?’ He spun round, the bottom of his boot grating on the step.

Whoops.

I shook my head innocently, grateful for the muffling properties of the crash helmet he still wore.

Mr O’Farrell made his way around the junk that consumed his porch, opened the door and strode in, leaving it to me to see myself in and close the door behind me. As I did, he pulled off the crash helmet and sat it on a cluttered phone table that stood in the hallway. He was, of course, ridiculously good-looking once the protective head gear was removed. Perhaps that went some way to explaining the high opinion he clearly had of himself. Mind you, his hair, black as coal, definitely needed a good cut, and the stubble on his face was way beyond ‘designer’ but not a beard either. Maybe he felt he didn’t need to bother with attention to personal grooming when women like his neighbour were already throwing suggestive invitations his way. Well, Yummy Mummy next door might find ‘mean and moody’ attractive, but to me, Michael O’Farrell, was merely abrasive and rude, no matter how tall, dark and gorgeous the wrapping was.

Sitting heavily on a bench seat in the hall, my new client yanked off his boots. My gaze, however, was roaming around the areas of the house that I could see from the hallway. This was most definitely not going to be a five-minute job. Unfortunately. Because if first impressions were anything to go by, I was keen to spend the least amount of time possible with my new client.

‘You didn’t answer me earlier.’ The soft Irish accent did nothing to hide the abruptness of his manner.

I frowned.

‘Why you’re actually here? I left Janey a message to tell you that I was running late and wouldn’t be able to make it. I assumed she’d pass it on to you.’

‘When did you call her?’

‘About an hour ago.’

‘She would already have been in yoga class by then. It has a strict policy of requiring all mobiles to be switched off.’

This time it was his turn to frown.

‘I thought she said something about knowing you from that class. Don’t you two go to yoga together.’

‘Yes, we do. Ordinarily.’

I saw the penny drop.

‘Right.’ He stood.

Great. No apology for making me miss my class either. If this all proceeded, I was seriously tempted to shift him to my assistant. I’d dealt with enough ‘challenging’ clients in my time, and it would be good practice for her to take O’Farrell on. Mind you, Bernice was adorably cute and an absolute sweetie so in all probability would have him eating out of her hand within ten minutes. And that was fine too. Just so long as I didn’t have to deal with him.

He unzipped the top of his leathers and began wrestling the upper half off his shoulders.

‘Just so you know, Miss Stone. None of this was my idea. I have absolutely no wish for you to come into my home and start poking about, faffing and cleaning up. I’m more than happy with things just the way they are.’

Sorry Janey, but enough’s enough. I wasn’t prepared to waste my or my assistant’s time with someone who clearly wasn’t going to even try.

‘Mr O’Farrell. I do not specialise in “faffing” or “poking about”. Neither am I a cleaner. But I suspect you’re already aware of all that. Clearly you have no interest in my services and, as such, I think it’s probably best if we discontinue now in order to prevent either of us wasting any more time. If you could call your sister and explain the situation that would be most helpful. Goodnight.’

I turned and took the few steps back to the door, my hand upon the catch.

‘Wait,’ he called as a phone began to ring, its tone muffled. Digging into the rucksack he’d been wearing on the bike, he yanked a mobile out and looked at the screen.

‘Shit.’ Michael took a deep breath and answered. ‘Hi Janey.’ His eyes focused on his socked feet as he listened, his gaze raising only briefly to glance over at me. ‘Yes, she’s still here…No, I…Of course I do…Fine, hang on a minute.’ He looked back at me and held out the phone. ‘My sister would like to talk to you.’

I hesitated. What was the most polite way of telling my best friend that her brother was a rude and arrogant dick who has no appreciation or respect for what I do, and no inclination to be helped anyway?

I took the phone. ‘Hi Janey. How – ’

‘I am sooooo sorry!’ Janey interrupted. ‘I just got the message on my phone that he was going to be late. I can’t believe it! He promised me and I know you went out of your way to be there tonight. I love him and everything, of course, but Jesus, he really can come across as an arrogant shit sometimes. I know he’s just trying to get out of doing it all.’

‘It’s fine. Don’t worry. We’ve consensually decided that perhaps this isn’t the right thing for – ’

‘No! No, no no! You have to stay! Please!’

‘Janey. It really only works if the person involved wants it to. Otherwise everything will go back to how it was within weeks, which is just a waste of time for everyone involved. Not to mention a waste of money.’

‘Wait. Don’t leave yet. OK? Promise?’

I paused.

‘Please, Kate. It’s really important. He needs this.’ Her voice was softer now.

‘OK. Fine. As it’s you.’

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. Right. Now, can you pass the phone back to my dick of a brother?’ Her voice was louder again now and from the look on his face, Michael heard the comment. Which was good news for me as it meant I didn’t have to find a way to tell Janey any of that stuff after all. She was clearly already aware. He held out one large hand which I put the phone in. He lifted the mobile back to his ear.

‘Yes. No. I know. Yes. Yes, I promise. OK. What? No, you don’t need…fine. Here…’ He stabbed at his phone and Janey’s voice came out on speaker.

‘Is it on speaker?’

‘Yes.’

I felt bad that I was perversely enjoying seeing this rude, arrogant man getting bossed about by his little sister. But then I looked down and saw my soaked, numb feet, and remembered how cold I was, and miraculously, all traces of guilt disappeared instantaneously.

‘Kate, can you hear me?’

‘Yes, Janey.’

‘Right. Good. Now Michael, we discussed all this. Your house is a bloody tip and your life’s not much better.’

‘My life is just fine.’

‘No, it’s not. And don’t interrupt. You agreed to host Christmas this year– ’

‘Actually, I was just outvoted, if you remember.’

‘Because we’ve all taken plenty of turns in doing it and you never have!’

‘That’s because I wasn’t in the country most of the time.’

‘Yes. Well. Nobody forced you to jet off every year instead of spending time with the family.’

‘Janey. You know that it wasn’t as simple as that. And could we please not discuss family matters in front of strangers?’

‘Oh shush. Katie’s not a stranger. She’s a very good friend – ’

‘To you.’

‘Yes. To me. And because she is such a very good friend to me, she’s agreed to help you, you great lummox. So wind your neck in and start taking this seriously. You need to start getting your life back in order and find your way back to being the happy bloke you used to be. And believe me, Kate is your best chance at doing that.’

‘Really.’ He was clearly still unconvinced. It was the one thing we appeared to agree on.

‘Yes, really. We’re fed up of watching you work yourself into the ground, surrounded by all that crap. You’ve got a lovely house there but you wouldn’t know it because of the state it’s in! How on earth are you ever going to meet anyone else if you can’t bring them home?’

‘I’m not particularly interested in meeting anyone else. And when I do bring a woman home, it’s not exactly to give them a tour of a house.’ He looked over at me, as if awaiting a reaction.

If he was trying to shock me, he was way off the mark. I’d had him pegged as the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ type within about two minutes. Except minus the ‘thank you’.

‘Well, it’s about time that changed. We all know you’ve been through the wringer Mikey, but it’s time to start moving on.’

‘I have moved on. Weren’t you listening to the last bit?’

‘Having sex with strangers and moving on are two very different things. Now, your family’s been behind you throughout all of this, despite how difficult it was at times, but it’s time to get on with your life. And Katie’s going to help you make that start.’

‘Right.’

‘She’s your chance at finding a way to be happy again Mikey.’

‘Oh. Great. No pressure,’ I mumbled.

For a split second I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into the hint of a smile but when I looked again it was set back in a grim line as he stared at his feet.

‘Tonnes of pressure, Katie. Sorry darling!’ Janey’s voice came from the speaker. ‘But he really does need to get his arse in gear and I know you won’t take any shit off him, so it’s perfect.’

‘Perfect,’ Michael repeated, flatly. He lifted his gaze. ‘Don’t worry about it, my sister’s just being dramatic. It’s a habit.’

‘Knock it off Mikey,’ Janey snapped. ‘You need to start taking this seriously. Your life is a mess since Angeline left and you’re a grouchy workaholic. It’s about time that you got your shit together and found happiness again, and Katie there’s your best chance. So stop being an arse, listen to what she says, and do what she tells you because if you don’t, so help me God – ’

‘Fine! Yes. All right,’ he cut across her.

‘I love you, you know. We all do,’ Janey’s voice was softer now and it was clear to hear the love contained within her words, ‘that’s why we’re doing this.’

‘Yep. I know. I love you too.’

I looked away and found an intense interest in the junk mail teetering on the phone table.

‘Better not get all soppy. It looks like you’re embarrassing your friend.’ Michael’s deep voice held a hint of amusement.

‘Oh, Katie’s all right, aren’t you?’ Janey’s voice assured.

‘Umm, yes. Fine.’

My client’s vivid gaze fixed on me and he shook his head, that hint of smile back flickering around the full mouth.

‘I’ll behave for Kate, Janey. I promise.’

‘Good. Because she has my full permission to kick you in the nuts if you don’t.’

Michael burst out laughing and his whole face changed. The spiky demeanour transformed into something much closer to the warm, welcoming air that Janey always gave off. For the first time since I’d met him, I could finally see him as being related to my friend.

‘I’m countering that permission and as they’re my nuts, I have final say.’

‘Just be good,’ Janey said.

‘I’ve said I will. So I will. Now, can I go?’

‘Yes, all right. Bye, Kate. Thanks so much for this. Talk to you tomorrow.’

‘Bye Janey,’ I called.

‘Bye sis,’ Michael added, before pressing ‘End’ on the screen.

Silence fell over us.

‘So. I guess it looks like you’re stuck with me then.’

‘Yes, it does rather.’

More silence.

‘When she said about you being my chance at…you know…she didn’t mean…’

‘No. I know.’

‘OK. Good.’

‘It’s a bit of a cliché but I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure anyway.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘And I’m already seeing someone. Janey knows that.’ Why on earth was I going into all of this?

‘Right.’

‘And you’re definitely not my type anyway. Janey knows that too.’

Michael rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. ‘I’m beginning to wish I’d never opened my mouth.’

‘Not at all. It’s always good to be absolutely clear on things.’ For the love of God, Kate. Shut up!

After a beat, Michael spoke. ‘So, what happens now?’

I mentally squared my shoulders and shook my uncharacteristic babbling moment off. Focusing on what I knew best, I was back on firm ground.

‘Generally, I assess the project, then I look at my schedule and you look at yours and we see when we can fit in some sessions that work for both of us.’

‘Right.’ He moved away from me, his back turned.

‘But as I said earlier, I can only help someone if they want to be helped and are prepared to put in effort themselves. I realise that Janey is keen for you to do this, and that you clearly wish to please her, but if you’re really not invested in this, then it’s just a waste of time for both of us. It’s a very busy time, and as such, I have plenty of other people who would benefit from my services far more.’

As Janey had warned, I didn’t pull punches. I wanted her brother to know exactly what I expected from him.

‘Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to keep Little Miss Popular from doling out her beneficial services.’

I rolled my tense neck, sore from huddling against the cold earlier, and counted to ten. Ten wasn’t nearly enough.

‘Are you always this much of an arsehole?’

Michel didn’t say anything but I was almost sure I saw his lips quirk briefly in amusement at my outburst.

I took a deep breath. ‘I apologise. I shouldn’t have spoken like that. It’s been a very long day. Perhaps it’s best if I leave and you take the night to decide as to whether you wish to proceed.’

‘It’s fine. I probably deserved it.’

Probably?!

‘And in answer to your question, depending on who you ask, yes, I am always this much of an arsehole. And I don’t need the night to think about it. If I don’t do this then I’m in the shit with my family, which I know you probably couldn’t give a toss about but I do. They’ve done a lot for me and I need to do this for them. Unfortunately, I can’t do it without you.’

I raised an eyebrow.

‘I promise I will take it seriously and do what I need to do to make them happy.’

‘It’s supposed to be about making you happier too.’

He shrugged. ‘If that happens too, then it’s a bonus, but don’t get your hopes up.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.’

Chapter Two

Michael gave me an even look, assessing. We were sat in his kitchen. It was light, modern, spacious and absolutely crammed full of stuff, just like the rest of the place. It didn’t look like he’d put anything away for years.

‘So, explain again what it is that you do, as it’s obviously not “faffing” or “poking about”.’ The even look remained. I knew he was testing me, seeing if I’d crack again. And although I was desperate to tell him exactly what I thought of him – again – I refrained. Not because of anything I felt for him but because of something I’d heard in Janey’s voice on the phone. Getting this arrogant man’s home, and life, better organised clearly meant a lot to her. That was the only reason I was still here.

‘I run an organisation consultancy. I help people to declutter and organise their living spaces which in turn makes their home a nicer, more inspiring and serene place to be. And that in turn, is good for everyone who lives there. Being surrounded by clutter can be stressful for the mind, not just because it’s hard to find things, but because it doesn’t instil the peace and calm we crave as human beings in the sanctuary of our home. When a person’s house is in order, it generally has positive benefits to other aspects of their life.’

Michael took a sip of the coffee he’d made. ‘Right.’

The word ‘sceptical’ sprang to mind.

‘But as I said, I can’t do this alone, I need – ’

‘Me to get on board. Blah Blah. I know. I get it. I just don’t really buy it.’

I shifted in my seat.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve done plenty in my life that I didn’t really buy into either and I got by. Just ask my ex-wife. So we’ll get it done. You do your thing, I’ll make the effort and then it’s done.’

‘Great,’ I said, feeling pretty unconvinced myself now, which was the complete opposite to how I normally felt at this stage in the process. Not a great sign.

I pushed my coffee mug to the side and pulled out a folder from my bag, clearing a little space on the breakfast bar to lay it on. Michael took the mugs off the counter, rinsed them and then came and stood behind me, peering over my shoulder at the forms I had just begun filling in. As he did so, I got a subtle waft of aftershave. It was light and citrusy and, oddly, not what I would have expected from him.

‘What’s this then? Do you give out grades for first impressions?’

I shoved my stool backwards, causing him to move, as I then dismounted. Tilting my head back to meet the intense green gaze, I answered him.

‘Perhaps it’s just as well that I don’t Mr O’Farrell.’

‘Oh. I guess, in the interest of fairness then, I should take that Yelp review down that I did when I nipped up to change my clothes?’

I turned quickly. ‘What did you say on it?’

He shrugged. ‘Just that I thought it was a novel approach for a business owner who comes into peoples’ houses to call her client an arsehole within minutes of meeting him.’

My mouth dropped open and I felt my face drain of colour.

‘That was entirely unfair of you! I apologised immediately! I know that’s no excuse, but you were late, rude and disrespectful of what I’ve been hired to do!’ A stray tendril of hair had come loose from my bun and I pushed it back from my face distractedly. ‘This is my livelihood! How could you – ’

He snagged his phone from the shelf and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans as he threw me an amused look.

‘Calm down. I didn’t do anything of the sort.’

I felt the colour return to my cheeks.

‘Oh. Right. Well, good. Thank you. And just so you know I’ve never, ever done that before and have no intention of doing it again.’

He shook his head. ‘Forget it. Believe me, if I Yelped everyone who thought I was an arsehole I’d be on the site all day.’

I didn’t say a word but his mouth did that quirk thing again.

‘It’s all right, you can say it.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You can say you aren’t in the least bit surprised.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of saying that.’

‘Nothing to stop you thinking it though, eh?’

‘Shall we make a start?’ I said, uncomfortable at being quite so transparent.

His lips gave a little tug to the side. ‘Absolutely. Tell me what you need me to do.’

‘So, is there anything you’re specifically hoping for with this process?’ I asked, glancing at my notes.

When he didn’t answer, I looked up to find him studying me.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Just seems an odd question, bearing in mind you already know the only reason you’re even here is because my sister cajoled you and my family forced me. If I wasn’t looking for the process to happen in the first place, I can’t see how I could be hoping for anything from it.’

I took a deep breath. ‘It’s fair to say that my clients are normally a little more pleased to see me than you are.’

‘I can see that,’ he said, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his ankles.

‘But that doesn’t mean, now that you’re committed to the process, that you won’t gain anything from it just because you came to it from a more unconventional angle.’

A grin flickered on his face, as fleeting as a guttering candle. ‘Unconventional. That’s one way of putting it.’

‘So, having heard what I do, is there anything you can think of that you would specifically want to gain from all this?’

He straightened from the doorway and looked at me. I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. Now I’d taken my sodden shoes off, I had to look up even further.

‘I’m not exactly sure what you want me to say Kate, but if you’re hoping for some sort of emotional blather about me wanting to find myself amongst all the clutter, then I’m sadly going to have to disappoint you. The only thing I’m looking for with this process is to turn my house into a place that’s fit for a family Christmas. At the moment, with all this stuff everywhere, it’s not. I’m just wanting a tidy house, Kate. Not therapy.’

‘Fair enough.’ I scribbled a note and made to move on.

‘It would seem your clientele are generally a lot deeper than I am.’

‘Not at all. Everyone’s different. I just want to make sure that I do the best job I can for each client, and that means finding out what it is they really want.’

‘Don’t they all just want less crap kicking around? Isn’t that the whole point of your business?’

‘Yes and no. That’s usually what it starts off as them thinking they want, but quite often there’s a deeper issue that they don’t even realise is driving them until part way through the process.’

He gave a quick raise of his eyebrows. ‘Right. Well, as you heard, the only thing driving me is a sister half my size.’

I felt the smile slide onto my face and for a moment he returned it.

‘So, let’s just accept that I’m shallow and move on. Where do you want to see first?’

He leant on the newel post and I watched the corded muscles on his forearm flex as his hand rested on the bannister.

Was that true? Was he really that shallow, or was he, in fact, one of my most complicated clients? Usually about this time, I had a pretty good idea of who my client was, but with Michael O’Farrell, I still didn’t have a clue.

‘Shall we do bottom to top?’

He gave me a quick nod and led the way down the stairs to the basement level of the four-storey Georgian. Here the space had been given over to a large open-plan living area that had bi-folding doors leading out onto a garden. There was a small counter/kitchen area for preparing snacks and cups of tea, to save having to traipse up and down the stairs when time was being spent in here. A flat-screen TV collected dust against the wall and a couple of couches and beanbags sat unused underneath some appliance boxes and other discarded items. Looking out onto the garden, it could be a great space for entertaining, or just relaxing, but right now it was uninviting and cold. From my time studying the outside, and now here, there already seemed to be a theme emerging.

Next I followed my client back up the stairs to the ground floor where he stopped outside a room opposite the kitchen we’d sat in earlier. As I caught up to him, he opened the door. Inside was an architect’s easel, a work station with a large flat-screen computer on it and a bookcase stuffed with books, papers and all sorts of other random items. Under another pile of papers a small two-seater sofa lounged against the wall. Michael walked over and flicked on the lamp over the easel. There was no window dressing of any kind and streetlight shadows from the trees outside danced on the stripped wooden floor. At least, what you could see of it.

‘My office.’

‘You work from home?’

‘I do.’

I glanced around. ‘And do you always know where everything is in here?’

He followed my gaze and I saw something cross his face. I wasn’t sure if he thought I was being sarcastic so I clarified my question.

‘It’s just that sometimes, especially in work areas, what looks like a mess to an outsider is actually a very specific way of working for the person whose space it is. People find their own way of working and obviously I don’t want to do anything to upset your working methods.’

He picked up a mechanical pencil from the desk and fiddled with it.

‘As much as it pains me to tell you this, I can’t actually find a bloody thing most of the time.’

‘OK. We can fix that and find a much better system for you, which will make for a more pleasant and efficient working environment.’

‘Just because it looks a tip doesn’t mean I’m not “efficient” at my job. People might think I’m an arsehole but they still know I’m a damn good architect.’

I tried not to look surprised at his defensiveness. Time to employ some professional soothing. ‘I never meant to suggest that you weren’t. I’m sorry if it came across that way.’

He fiddled with the pencil a little more, then nodded, seemingly accepting my apology. ‘But you are saying my office isn’t pleasant?’

‘I’m just saying that we can make it more pleasant.’

He gave a little shake of his head, that almost-smile flashing briefly. ‘Very tactful.’

I looked up from my notes. ‘So, what’s next?’

Staying on the same level, he pointed to a door behind which was apparently a downstairs loo, before moving on to show me the living and dining rooms. Both were gorgeous spaces, not that it was easy to see that at the moment. But they could be.

‘You play the piano?’ I asked, seeing an upright groaning under another pile of magazines and general ‘stuff’.

He shrugged. ‘Used to. Haven’t played for ages.’

‘Why not?’

He gave the shrug again and then set off for the next floor. Here there were four spare bedrooms, two with small en suites, and one main bathroom. One of the bedrooms had been converted into a mini home gym which, unlike many I’d seen in my time, was clearly being put to good use. I made a note to suggest moving this equipment down to the basement level. There was plenty of space down there and it could always be screened off with a room divider. That would free up the bedroom, which, from what Janey had told me about the size of their family, could be useful. Plus it might be more inspiring for my client to work out looking onto the garden rather than staring at a blank wall as he clearly was at the moment. I snuck a glance at him. Admittedly, from what I could see under the slightly misshapen clothes, he didn’t seem to be lacking in motivation to work out.

As we moved around, it seemed that most of the rooms had generally turned into a dumping ground for random items, boxes for appliances, motorbike parts and goodness knows what else.

‘The master bedroom is on the top floor but you’ve pretty much got the idea as to what it’s like from these.’ He waved a hand at the rooms we’d already seen.

‘It would still be very helpful for me to see it, if possible. So that I have all the information as to what we are dealing with. It’s especially helpful in this case as we’re on quite a short deadline.’

After his comment about one-night stands earlier, I was a little surprised that Michael had suddenly seemed to have turned a little shy. Frankly, I’d half expected that to be the first room he’d shown me, maybe hoping for another reaction. But the truth was, I’d seen all sorts in my time and there was little that could surprise me now. I opened my mouth to reassure him but he took off up the stairs before I could say anything. Quickly, I followed. He opened the door and stepped in.

‘Master bedroom, en suite, dressing room.’ His voice was uncharacteristically flat.

I looked around the room before turning back to Michael. Unexpectedly, not to mention, annoyingly, he had indeed surprised me. Whilst everywhere else in the house was full of stuff, his bedroom – the one place where it should feel the most personal – felt the least. It was almost like a hotel room but with less soul. The room itself, like the others, was beautiful. In fact, it was even more so with its double-aspect windows, high ceilings and finished wood floor. It could be the perfect bedroom. My new client might be annoying, bristly, arrogant and rude but there was one thing he clearly wasn’t short of, and that was personality – however desirable or undesirable its aspects. And yet this room had none. There was no sense of him at all. Of anything really. It was sparsely furnished and had none of the junk that the other rooms had acquired.

Evidently the surprise showed on my face.

‘It seems unlike you to have nothing to say Kate.’

I turned quickly, trying to regain my mental footing.

‘I was…it’s just that…’

Michael raised an eyebrow at me, but remained silent, making no attempt to help me out.

I cleared my throat and smoothed my hair unnecessarily. ‘Do you actually use this room?’ I asked, making a couple of notes.

‘I do.’

That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. I just couldn’t picture this man in such a bland space. Everywhere else in this house showed aspects of who he was: his work, his motorbike, the food he liked – mostly because it was all on display. But here there was nothing. Not an inkling of the person who spent his nights there. And then it dawned on me. Maybe that was precisely the aim.

‘OK. You seem to have managed to maintain this one a little better, so that’s helpful.’

‘I’m glad you approve.’

I crossed the room and opened the door to the walk in wardrobe, peering in. Much of it was empty and I had to fight the urge to fling myself down and weep for the space he had for clothes – a space that was only a little smaller than my entire flat.

‘Are you all right?’ The deep voice almost sounded concerned.

‘Hmm? Oh, yes! Absolutely. This really is a beautiful room.’

‘Thank you.’ He turned to leave, clearly feeling that I’d got all I needed. As I followed, I gave it another look. It could be so much more for him. I wasn’t a professional decorator but I loved the subject as a hobby and so it was easy for me to see how this could be transformed into a real oasis of calm for him. Somewhere he could escape the day, the stresses of work – assuming that all electronic devices were banned from the bedroom – as they should be.

‘You know, you could really make that into a gorgeous space for you to – ’

‘I wasn’t aware you were here to comment on my decoration tastes,’ he snapped, pulling the bedroom door closed behind me.

‘No, of course not. I just…’ I met his eyes and saw there was no argument to be made. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, attempting pacification with a smile. ‘It’s just that it’s an interest of mine and it’s hard not to get carried away in a beautiful house like this.’

‘Perhaps you could try a little harder.’

I swallowed and gave him a tighter smile. ‘Of course.’

He nodded sharply. ‘Thank you,’ he said, before standing aside and motioning for me to precede him down the stairs, apparently ensuring that I couldn’t scoot off and peek at his bedroom again. A desire I currently neither had, nor ever planned to have.

‘So, what’s the verdict?’ He indicated the notes I’d made as he’d shown me around the house and the few answers to questions regarding the process that I’d managed to pry out of him.

‘All fine. I’ll make up a plan of attack and email you a copy so that you know exactly what we’re trying to achieve.’

‘You reckon you can transform this place into an oasis of serenity then?’ He raised an eyebrow.

I ignored the sarcasm. ‘Of course. Janey’s been a very good friend to me and I want to help her. If doing this with you makes her happy, then as you said earlier, we’ll get it done.’

‘Right.’

‘The process always works best when several hours can be allocated to it together, rather than little bits here and there. So I would need to try and schedule some blocks of time that work for both of us. Perhaps tomorrow you could look at your diary and see what you have available and let me know? Once I know that, I’ll do my best to work around it for you.’

‘How long does the whole process generally take?’

‘That really depends on the size of the place, how invested the owner is, what time they can give over to it, etc. Some people have a lot more stuff than others, some struggle more on what to discard, and so on. There’s no set time. Every house is different because every client is different. Obviously we have a tighter timescale than I usually work to, bearing in mind you want this done for Christmas.

‘But can you do it?’

‘I’m fairly confident of it, yes. Of course, it depends on how much time you can put aside and how well things work. I will do my absolute best but I don’t want to mislead you. You have to realise that trying to organise a house of this size with this amount of–’

‘Crap?’

‘I was going to say “accumulated items”– ready for guests in just over a month will be quite a challenging target.’ I dropped my file back into my bag.

‘I’ll pay you double.’

I looked up, surprised.

‘I don’t work like that Mr O’Farrell. That would be unfair and, to me at least, incredibly unethical. I don’t categorise my clients by who can pay me the most!’

‘I didn’t mean to suggest that you did. I apologise.’

Oh. So he did actually understand the concept of apologising then? That was a start.

‘I just…Look, I really need you to help me with this, in that timescale. I realise it’s difficult and I will do my utmost to obey whatever you say and get it done.’

‘It’s not about obeying me – ’

‘That’s a shame.’ He cut in, his lips hinting at a smile.

I pointedly ignored the remark.

‘It’s about putting in the effort and believing in what you’re doing.’

‘OK. Look. I get it. I can see the point of all this.’ He waved his hand, encompassing me in the gesture. ‘I have a cleaner in once a week but I’m fully aware I’m not that great at housekeeping, so to speak. I sort of lost my way a bit when…’

I waited. The hardness in his face faded. It was still all sharp planes and glass cutting cheekbones but as his expression softened, he suddenly seemed more approachable, and less …well, less of an arse. He looked back from where he’d been staring at the darkened kitchen window and saw me watching him. Immediately the hardness in his face returned.

‘Carry on,’ I prompted softly, trying to rescue the moment. If I could understand him a little more, it would help my job enormously. Organising a home was incredibly personal, which is why the owner had to be involved. But if I could understand that owner, what was important to them, what had happened to them in their lives, it made the whole process so much easier.

‘Nothing. I just need to get this done for Christmas. It’s my turn to host the family and if someone else gets stuck doing it because I didn’t pull my finger out, then that’s not fair and I wouldn’t feel right even attending. But I’ve already missed far too many. So it’s not an option. I do understand that you have plenty of clients vying for your time, so if you can’t do it then I’ll just get someone else in. I’m sure there are plenty of people who do this kind of thing.’

On second thought, I wasn’t sure anything could make Michael O’Farrell less of an arse. It was clear that was just his demeanour’s natural setting.

‘Yes. There are. I am, however, one of the best. I did you a favour coming tonight, and waiting until you eventually turned up. I’ve spent my entire evening here and am now aware of exactly what needs doing, all of which time will have been entirely wasted should you turn to someone else. And that, frankly, would be incredibly frustrating. I am prepared to take you on as a client of Stone Organisation, and reschedule others whose needs aren’t quite so pressing in order to accommodate you, in order to please Janey. However, it is of course your prerogative to employ whomever you wish. In the circumstances, I would ask that you let me know by ten o’clock tomorrow morning so that we both know where we stand.’

I finished my spiel and turned away, quickly retrieving my coat from one of the overstuffed hooks that lined the wall of the hall.

‘I want you.’

I turned, pausing in the belting of my coat.

‘Pardon?’ I squeaked.

‘I want you.’ He’d descended the stairs too and was now leaning against the banister, his green eyes fixed on me. ‘I don’t want to employ anyone else to do this. Janey recommends Stone Organisation, so that’s who I want. I know that I’m difficult and impatient and impossible to deal with – God knows I’ve been told it enough times over the past few years. I’m also aware that I’ve given you a hard time this evening and you’ve taken it all in your stride and pushed back when you needed to. I need someone prepared to do that. Otherwise I’ll take the piss and never get anything done and it really will be a waste of time.’

I looked away and concentrated on wrapping my scarf around my neck, taking a moment to gather myself. Even though he was far too annoying to fancy, Michael’s soft Irish, deep gravelly tones saying ‘I want you’, completely out of the blue, was enough to throw any girl off her stride for a moment or two. No matter the context. Recovered, I turned back to face him.

‘All right. Good. Here’s my card.’ He closed the distance between us and I handed him a pale Tiffany blue business card. ‘Work out when you can set aside some time and email me. I’ll look at my diary and then give you a call to plan the first session.’

‘I’m assuming you don’t work weekends?’ he said, studying the card.

‘I try not to, but obviously it’s very difficult with the type of work I do, so it’s all dependent on the client.’

‘Right. Guess I blew that already then.’

‘Yes, you did rather. But lucky for you, I adore Janey so, if weekends are all you can do, then that’s what will happen.’

He gave a small smile. ‘Thanks. I’ll do my best to clear some space in the week so that I don’t take up too many of your weekends. I’m sure your boyfriend probably likes to see you as much as possible.’

I retrieved the leather gloves from my pocket and started pulling them on. ‘He’s aware my work hours can be a little erratic. Besides, he travels a lot and is often away over weekends too so it’s not such a big deal.’

Michael looked at me again, studying me, his eyes almost hypnotic in their concentration.

‘What is it?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’ He flicked the card. ‘I’ll email you tomorrow.’

I nodded. ‘Great. Goodnight then.’

‘Night.’

He leant over to open the door and glanced up and down the street. The snow was still falling but a little less heavily than it had been earlier.

‘Where did you park?’

‘I didn’t. I got the Tube. Speak to you tomorrow then.’

‘Wait. I’ll walk you to the station.’

‘No. It’s not far. But thank you.’

‘Janey would want me to.’

I gave him a patient look.

‘Look, just wait while I find my shoes. I know the other one is here somewhere…’ He began hunting around the ‘accumulated items’ in the hall for his other trainer.

I shook my head. ‘Looks like you could do with a bit of organisation,’ I quipped. Stepping past him, I opened my umbrella, heading off quickly before he could get himself organised enough to come with me. The Tube station was only a few minutes of quick walking away and the area was well to do and well lit. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done a hundred times before and I certainly didn’t need chaperoning by Michael O’Farrell just because his sister would have wanted him to. I soon reached the bright, fluorescent lights of the Tube station and headed into its underworld to catch my train.

Chapter Three

The following morning when I opened my emails, I was a little surprised to find one from my newest client, detailing a whole bunch of times he could free up in order to get his home organised. The brief, impersonal note advised that if I was able to work something out within my schedule to those times, he would appreciate it. If not, then could I let him know and he would take another look at his own diary and see what he could do. Perhaps he did actually mean to take this seriously after all, now that Janey had applied the thumbscrews.

I opened my calendar and took a look. I could probably manage it, but it was going to mean some serious juggling. The fact that I wished to spend as little time as possible with him wasn’t helping matters.

‘How did your appointment go with your friend’s brother last night?’ Bernice trotted in, her face all smiley and open. It was kind of infectious. I’d hired her as an assistant two years ago but she’d been keen to get into the actual business of organisation, so I’d agreed to train her. She’d now been a fully-fledged organiser for the past year and was loving it.

‘Ah. Yes. That.’ I pulled a face. ‘Oh thanks! Perfect!’ I said, taking the huge mug of hot chocolate she’d just made.

Bernice took a sip of her own from a similarly enormous mug and I waited until her face came back into view before continuing.

‘Let’s just say he and his sister are quite different.’

‘But you’re still planning to take him on?’

‘Of course. I promised I would. But I think it’s safe to say it’s not going to be one of my most fun assignments.’

‘Difficult?’

‘The house isn’t anything worse than I’ve seen before. But Mr O’Farrell himself is…quite something.’

‘Sleaze?’

‘No! Not at all. Nothing like that. Well, he made no secret of the fact he’s a one-night stand kind of guy, but that’s up to him. But no, he didn’t make me feel uncomfortable like that.’

‘So, what is it? Normally you’re fizzing with excitement when you’re about to start with a new client. And today you’re definitely more flat than fizz.’

‘He’s just…’

‘Oooh, is he gorgeous and you don’t want to get caught in an awkward situation? I know you have this big thing about not mixing business and pleasure.’ Bernice’s big brown eyes widened as her mind went off into areas unknown.

‘No. It’s not that either. Although he is gorgeous, which he clearly knows. The only thing I’m worried about is that I might actually kill him and have him buried under the patio of his newly organised home.’

‘Oh wow. That bad?’

‘That bad. Think big Irish Grinch on a motorbike and you’re pretty much there.’

‘Actually sounds kind of yummy. Apart from the Grinch bit, obviously. So when do you start?’ Bernice asked, getting up and wandering over to gaze out of the window at the rain that was now slamming against it.

I let out a sigh and peered again at my calendar, comparing it to the dates that Michael had sent over early this morning.

‘I’m not sure. Trying to find a time when we’re both free is beginning to look like more of an issue than I thought it was going to be. I think I’m going to end up having to see if he can do weekends by the looks of things.’

‘Does he specifically want to work with you?’ Bernice asked, coming away from the window to perch on my desk.

‘No, he just said that he wanted Stone Organisation rather than anyone else as his sister had recommended us.’ I distractedly flicked over the days of my calendar again, blindly hoping that when I looked at it this time there would magically be some space. I really didn’t want to have to go back to Michael and ask for different dates. I just wanted to get this all done and over with.

‘Bring my calendar up.’

‘What?’

‘Get mine up.’ Bernice leaned over and took the mouse from me, making a couple of clicks until her own schedule displayed on my screen in another window. ‘Now, when’s he free?’

I pulled the email I’d printed off towards me and glanced between the two. Bernice had a space tomorrow that would fit in with Michael.

‘There you go. Problem solved.’

I hesitated.

‘What is it?’

I looked up at her. ‘I feel like I’m fobbing him off on you! I’ve just told you he’s a right royal pain and now I’m dumping him on you.’ For all my thoughts last night about pushing O’Farrell to Bernice, I’d never really intended to lumber her.

‘Do you really want to deal with him?’

‘Oh God, no!’

Bernice laughed.

‘Sorry. That was a bit too emphatic, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s all right. I don’t mind dealing with him. It’s only a short-term thing anyway, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It needs to be done by Christmas so we’ll be shot of him then.’

‘It’s settled then. Do you want me to contact him?’

‘No. I told him I’d call. I’ll give him a ring now and advise him he’s booked in for twelve tomorrow.’

‘I can hardly wait,’ Bernice teased. ‘I’m totally intrigued now.’

‘I still feel bad.’

‘Don’t. I volunteered and you can’t change your morning appointment tomorrow. That’s your final one with Mrs Clarke. She’d be devastated to not finish up with you.’

Bernice was right. This particular client had come a long way, physically and emotionally during the process, and the truth was I’d be upset to have to miss it too.

‘Thanks Bernice. You’re a lifesaver. It may be for the best anyway. You’ll probably be able to bring out his better side. I’m pretty sure he has one. There was a tiny glimpse of it when he was on the phone to his sister, but it only appears for a few seconds at a time. With me, anyway. But you have that cutesy persona thing going on. It’ll be perfect.’

‘I can certainly try.’

‘And bonus points if you can avoid calling him an arsehole within a few minutes of meeting him.’

Bernice was looking at me, her carefully painted Cupid’s bow mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.

‘You did not.’

I cleared my throat. ‘Yep, I kind of did.’

Bernice continued staring.

‘Could you please stop looking at me like that. I feel bad enough already. I just thought I should fill you in because I wouldn’t put it past Mr O’Farrell to bring it up and I didn’t want you blindsided.’

‘But you’re always so…controlled with clients.’

‘As I say. Probably for the best that you’re doing it.’

‘Wow. I really can’t wait to meet him now. If he rattled your cage, he must be something.’

‘Oh, he’s something all right. And just so you have all the background info, he’d kept me waiting in the snow for nearly an hour before finally showing up, made absolutely no apology and just proceeded to tell me how much he didn’t want our services. My patience was worn pretty thin by then.’

‘Understandably. It’s no problem. I can handle him.’

‘Thanks Bernice. I really appreciate this. I really didn’t want my falling out with him to affect my friendship with Janey. So this is the best of both worlds – he gets help and I don’t upset my friend because I beat her brother to death with an egg whisk.’

‘Is it actually possible beat someone to death with an egg whisk?’

‘You haven’t met him. It’d certainly be worth a try.’

Bernice grinned.

‘I’ll call him now and put it in your diary for tomorrow. The ones after that, perhaps you can discuss with him, once you see how you’ve progressed after the first session? I’ve typed up the notes I took last night, so I’ll email them over to you.’

‘Great, thanks.’

I quickly sent her the email before I forgot, then dialled Michael’s number. After three rings it went to voicemail and his lilting voice told me he was unable to come to the phone and asked for a message to be left. So polite. So attractive. So unlike the owner of the voice.

‘Mr O’Farrell, it’s Kate Stone from Stone Organisation. Thank you for your email. Having looked at our schedule, there is a space tomorrow at twelve, which coincides with one of the times you sent me. In the circumstances, I’ve blocked that out and unless I hear differently, your first session will be at noon tomorrow. Thank you.’

I hung up and then quickly fired off a text to Janey telling her that we’d be starting on her brother’s house properly tomorrow so she could relax and that it was all in hand.

A moment later a reply pinged back.

Brilliant! Thanks so much for letting me know. Can’t thank you enough for fitting him in. I know you’re rammed. Big kiss xx

I smiled and texted back.

No problem. Happy to be able to help xx

I checked the clock and scooped up some files from my desk.

‘Right. Better scoot. You OK for this afternoon?’

Bernice looked up from her screen. ‘Yep. Kenny Jakes has emailed to see if we can fit in another session as his mother is coming down for the holidays and he wants it perfect. I had a spare couple of hours so I’m going to go to him before Mrs Calder.’

‘OK. Great. Call me if you need anything.’

‘Will do. Have fun!’

I waved and snagged my umbrella from the hook before stepping out onto the rainy London street.

***

I’d just got back from my last appointment with Mrs Clarke in Wimbledon and had my head down answering emails when Bernice came into the tiny office.

‘Hi,’ I said, distractedly. Then pulled my head up again. ‘Wait a minute. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Michael O’Farrell’s?’

‘I am. And I was. But he doesn’t want me there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I got there and he opened the door. I get what you mean about the whole gorgeous thing now, by the way. Big, masculine, kind of rough around the edges, and, wow, those eyes – ’

‘Bernice?’

‘Oh. Yes. Sorry. Well, I said who I was, and what I was there for. He asked where you were, so I told him you had an appointment elsewhere this morning. Then he thanked me for coming, apologised that my time had been wasted and offered to pay for a cab to take me wherever I wanted to go. All terribly polite.’

‘That was it?’

‘Yep. Bit odd I have to say. He definitely knew I was coming. I heard you leave the message.’

I was doing my best to stay calm but after everything I’d said to him, after everything Janey had said to him, he was still pulling the same stunt! I searched for his details and stabbed the number into my phone. He answered on the second ring.

‘Michael O’Farrell.’ The languid, gravelly voice floated down the line and if I hadn’t been so mad at him, I might have considered again just how attractive it was. But I was. So I didn’t.

‘Mr O’Farrell, it’s Kate Stone.’

‘Hello Kate.’

I waited for an explanation but the line stayed silent.

‘I wonder if you would be so good as to explain why, when I go to the effort of reorganising our schedule to accommodate you, during a period which I have already told you is busy, you then choose to turn my colleague away from your door?’ I carried on, not actually giving him a chance to explain because, whatever lame excuse he had, I was no longer interested.

‘I have gone out of my way to help you Mr O’Farrell, and you’ve done nothing but be difficult. I really don’t appreciate you wasting my company’s time and, in the circumstances, as it is clear that you have no wish to be helped, I would appreciate it if you could explain the situation to your sister. Goodbye.’

I hung up and realised I’d barely taken a breath. I sucked in some air and made an effort to bring my heart rate down out of the danger range. God, he was infuriating. It was just as well I wasn’t working with him. If my dealings so far were any indication, I wasn’t sure I’d get even halfway through the process before keeling over from a blood clot.

‘You know you didn’t actually give him a chance to speak, don’t you?’

I looked at Bernice. She was chewing the inside of her lip. ‘Maybe he had a good reason?’

‘I’m not really one for excuses, Bernice. You know that.’

‘I know, but – ’

She was interrupted by my phone ringing. I looked at the number on the display and my gaze drifted up to the computer screen where Michael O’Farrell’s details were still displayed.

‘Oh crap.’

‘Is that him?’

I nodded.

‘You could just ignore it.’

‘I can’t. He’d keep ringing until the end of days just to annoy me.’

‘Stone Organisation,’ I answered, pretending I had absolutely no idea who was on the other end of the line.

‘Hello Kate. Michael O’Farrell here. But I’m pretty sure you knew that. It’s just that you called me to ask a question, but then ranted without giving me an opportunity to answer it. So I’m wondering if I might be able to do that now? Only if you have a moment, of course? I know what a busy time this is for you and how in demand you are.’

Sarcastic git.

‘I wasn’t ranting. And, of course, please say whatever it is you would like to say to explain why you’ve wasted everyone’s time.’

Bernice gave me a look. I pulled a face. Normally I was so good at being diplomatic but this man had an infuriating ability to push buttons I didn’t even know I had!

‘Are you done?’

‘Yes. Go ahead.’

‘Thank you. The reason I turned Bernice away this morning, perfectly lovely and efficient as I am sure she is, is that I made a deal with you. Not your colleague.’

‘You made a deal for my company to help you organise your home.’

‘No. My understanding was that you would be the one coming back in to my home. And not once did you ever suggest that it would be someone else. And the fact that you still didn’t tell me you would be sending someone else when you called me, alerts me to the fact that you were, in fact, fobbing me off on someone else because you didn’t want to deal with me.’

‘Of course I wasn’t fobbing you off!’

Across the desk, Bernice did a Pinocchio impression. I turned my chair so that my back was facing her.

‘Or maybe you didn’t think you were capable of dealing with me, for whatever reason.’

‘I am perfectly capable of dealing with you Mr O’Farrell. I just prefer not…’

Oh. Shit.

I could practically hear him smiling down the line as I dropped myself in it. I mentally added ‘smug’ to the list of his unattractive qualities.

‘That’s what I thought. There’s still four hours of the session left Kate. I’d appreciate being able to use that time if you’re available. However, if not, I’m happy to reschedule to a time when you, personally, are able to attend.’

I gritted my teeth and pulled up my calendar. ‘I’m sorry that there seems to have been some misunderstanding Mr O’Farrell. I was under the impression that you were hiring my company and had no preference as to which organiser attended.’

‘I wasn’t aware there was anyone other than you.’

‘Then I apologise for not making that clear, but I can assure you that Bernice is a very competent organiser and I’ve had nothing but positive feedback from all of her clients. I’m very aware of the time frame with you, and as Bernice was free earlier than I today, at a time that fitted in with you, it seemed ideal that she should come over, rather than having to put you off longer.’

‘I’m sure that she is excellent at her job. However, when I said I wanted you last night, that’s exactly what I meant.’

Oh God. I do wish he’d stop saying that.

Across the desk, Bernice tilted her head and raised an eyebrow as colour whooshed up my face.

‘I understand. We’ve obviously already lost some time but I can do the rest of today’s session. If that’s what you wish.’

‘I do.’

‘Then I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘I look forward to it.’

Liar.

He hung up before I could say anything else. Snatching my coat from the hook, I rammed my arms into the sleeves, fuming at his laid back self-assurance. And the fact that he’d tripped me up into pretty much admitting that I had been more than happy to bump him onto Bernice.

‘You’re going then?’ Bernice asked, watching me savagely trying wrap a scarf around my neck as if wrestling a particularly venomous python.

‘I don’t think I have much choice now. Best just to get it all over and done with as soon as possible. Although, if I don’t turn up tomorrow, it’s because I’ve succumbed to my current desire to smack Michael O’Farrell right between the eyes with a snow shovel.’

‘Be a shame to ruin a pretty face like that.’

‘Fair point. I’ll smack him in the back of the head instead.’

With that, I yanked my bag onto my shoulder and headed out the door.

Chapter Four

I rang the bell and heard the hurried thud of feet running down the stairs. A moment later I heard another thud, shortly followed by a few choice words before the door was pulled open. Michael O’Farrell stood there in a white T-shirt, faded jeans and bare feet, the right one of which he was holding up and rubbing.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, as he mutely indicated me to step inside. ‘I thought I heard…something.’

‘Fine,’ he replied. He waited whilst I took off my coat and heels and then began heading towards the kitchen. I followed. ‘Would you like a drink? I’m making one anyway.’

My plan was to say no so that I could just get on with the task in hand but as he pressed the button on the coffee maker, buried amongst the junk on one of the work surfaces, the most delectable smell of coffee drifted out, melting my resolve in one tempting moment.

‘That would be very nice, thank you.’

He nodded and pulled another mug from a cupboard.

‘I saw that,’ he said, without turning.

‘Saw what?’

‘You raised your eyebrows in surprise that I actually got something out of a cupboard instead of just off the worktop.’

I really needed to work on my poker face.

‘You had your back to me. You have no idea what I did or didn’t do.’

‘I’ve eight nieces and nephews and spent a year teaching English in India. I’ve learned to have eyes in the back of my head.’

I rolled my eyes.

‘I saw that too.’

‘Oh, you did not.’

‘Boy. You’re bad at this game.’

I sucked in my cheeks and kept my mouth closed, as my eyes darted to the snow shovel leaning against the wall outside, next to the back door.

‘I’d get to it before you.’

‘Oh bloody hell!’ I burst out.

Michael’s face creased into a brief grin that faded as quickly as it had shown. ‘I can see why Janey likes you.’

I didn’t know what to say to that so I said nothing. But as the silence grew longer, my client seemed disinclined to fill it, happy, it seemed, just to lounge against the counter and drink his coffee. His gaze fell on me and the intensity of his eyes gave off the feeling that he could see much deeper than I was comfortable with. Which, of course, was ridiculous. I knew that. But still. I could also see why he was apparently never short of women to take up to his soulless bedroom. It wasn’t just the good looks. It was easy to see how those eyes and that gaze could be used to make you feel like you were the only person around, even in a room full of people. Or a bar full of alcohol.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘What?’ I asked, my voice coming out a little more squeaky than usual and colour flushing up my neck.

‘You had a very…interesting…expression on your face.’

I wasn’t sure what that meant but I did know I had absolutely no intention of telling my client that I’d been thinking about how easy it must be for him to pick up women in bars. I knew he’d just take it as a compliment. I’d hit myself in the back of the head with that snow shovel before I admitted to that.

‘I was just thinking about the best place to start.’

Michael drained his coffee mug, watching me over the rim. ‘Right,’ he said, giving me the distinct impression that he didn’t believe a word I’d just said.

‘And what did you decide?’

Thankfully I had actually been planning the best way to go about this particular case on the Tube on the way over so I had a quick answer ready.

‘I think the best thing to do is to start with your office. It’s obviously where you spend most of your time when you’re at home, and you told me yourself you find it difficult to locate anything quickly. Getting that into a better state will make it a better place to work and eliminate the stress of not being able to find things when you’re working to deadlines. If there’s anything work related in any of the other rooms, they need to come into your office now so that we can see exactly what we have.’

He gave me another of those assessing looks.

‘Who says it’s where I spend most of my time? You’re making me sound like some sort of workaholic.’

‘Which, according to Janey, is exactly what you are. And, whilst I can’t help with that, I can at least help you be one in a nicer space.’

‘I didn’t realise you and my sister had been discussing me quite so much.’

I pulled my notes out of bag and gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t worry. It was a very brief conversation when she asked me to do this with you. And she mentioned it again yesterday evening when you put her on speakerphone.’

‘So she did. And what else did she tell you?’

I headed out into the hallway and stepped over what looked like a piece of bike engine and hung my bag from one of the coat hooks on the wall.

‘Is that what you tripped over earlier?’ I asked, stepping back over the item again.

Michael, having followed me, looked down at it and frowned.

‘Probably. Stop changing the subject.’

I shook my head. Add tenacious to the list.

‘For goodness’ sake, what are you worried about? Janey told me you were planning to host Christmas this year, that you got divorced two years ago and since then the house has got into a bit of a state as you’re a total workaholic and – I quote – “a bit of an untidy bugger”. That’s all, I promise. And as you’ve given me little else, that’s pretty much still all I know. Oh, apart from the fact that your one-night stands don’t get given a house tour. There. That is the total sum of my knowledge about you. Happy?’

‘Ecstatic.’ The flat voice was back. ‘Shall we head to the office then?’

‘Absolutely.’

Seriously. The quicker I got this over with the better.

***

Janey was waiting at a table when I pushed my way through the Friday night crowd at the pub.

‘Sorry I’m late. Have you been here long?’ I asked as I leaned over and gave her a big hug, discarding layers of outerwear as I did so.

‘No, not long. Someone was just leaving their table as I got here so I jumped at it.’

‘Well done. Shall we order? I’m starving. My appointments ended up changing today and the last thing I ate was a fun-size Mars Bar about half past ten this morning.’

‘You must be starving! I’d be chewing on my own arm by now.’

‘Hence the long sleeves.’ I winked.

Janey grinned and waved at a waiter. She had the most beautiful smile and, as usual, it did the trick.

‘What can I get you, ladies?’

We quickly ordered, barely looking at the menu we knew so well. The waiter stepped away and was immediately swallowed up by the crowd.

‘So, how’s your week been?’ I asked Janey as another waiter appeared and placed our drinks on the table.

‘Oh, not bad. The kids were both down with this fever thing that’s going around, so that was fun.’

‘Oh no! Are they better now?’

‘Yeah,’ Janey said, taking a sip of her orange juice. ‘Thank goodness. It only lasted a few days but it was pretty miserable for them.’

‘And how are you?’

Janey smiled. ‘Tired, feeling enormous and gasping for a drink. Aside from that…’

‘You are not enormous! You’re like the poster girl for pregnancy – all glowy and blooming.’

‘Blooming uncomfortable, right now. Honestly, I’m sure he’s just doing the bladder bounce for amusement. The men in our family have a mischievous streak. Excuse me. I need the visit the ladies’. Again.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

She smiled and I briefly recognised the family likeness. Unfortunately, I’d only seen a glimpse of that same smile from her brother, unlike Janey who smiled easily and often.

‘No darling, I’m fine. Honestly.’

She patted my shoulder as she headed off. I watched, trying to resist the urge to jump up and scoot round my friend, insisting everyone clear a path. And then I laughed when a group of lads, a little worse the wear, did the job for me. Janey flashed them that winning smile and giggled when one of them blushed.

‘Told you I was fine,’ she laughed as she retook her seat.

‘I forgot about your magical powers. I don’t know why I worry.’

‘Because you’re a sweetheart. And don’t think I don’t appreciate it.’

‘No, I don’t think that.’

‘And talking of being appreciated, where is the man of the moment tonight?’

‘Calum?’

‘Unless there is someone else I should know about?’ She sounded almost hopeful.

‘No, of course not. He’s fine.’

‘Not around again tonight though.’

‘No. He’s working on some big project on at the moment so he’s tied up quite a lot.’

‘Right.’

‘Right, what?’

Janey gave me a blank look. ‘Nothing. Just “right”.’

‘I know you better than that by now. Come on, spit it out.’

‘Sure you want to hear?’

No.

‘Yes.’

‘All right. I think you’re wasting your time on Calum.’

‘Wow.’

‘I asked you if you wanted to hear.’

‘You did. And I did. Do you have a specific reason or did you just not take to him?’

‘I take to most people Katie. You know that. And he’s charming and good-looking and all the rest but…’

‘But what?’

‘Where is he?’

‘I just told you, he’s working.’

‘He’s always working. He’s always busy until he’s not and then he expects you to come running. And you do. And honestly? It’s not on.’

‘Everyone’s busy these days Janey. It’s competitive and people have to fight for their jobs.’

‘Has he ever taken you away for a long weekend? Or even a short weekend, come to think of it?’

‘Well, no, but – ’

‘He couldn’t find one weekend in – how long is it now? Six months to take you away for a couple of days.’

‘We’ve had the odd night away.’

‘As part of one of his many business trips! That’s hardly the same thing.’

‘I don’t mind. I’m busy with work a lot of the time too. It’s good to have someone who understands that.’

‘I’m just saying you deserve better. You deserve to be treated better.’

‘He treats me fine Janey. Really.’

‘Oh Katie. You’ve too much to offer to accept “fine”.’

I ran a hand back over my hair, smoothing in some escapees from my French plait, before taking a sip of my drink. Janey laid her hand on mine as it rested on the table.

‘It’s only because I love you. I want you to be happy.’

‘I am happy, I promise.’

Janey gave me one of those looks that her brother was so good at. I tried to hold it.

‘OK. If he’s making you happy, then that’s all I can ask.’

‘He is.’

‘Good. So, change of subject?’

‘Please,’ I grinned and squeezed her hand.

‘How’re things going with our Mikey?’

‘Oh! Yes. Fine, I think. Well, we’ve really only had one session…half a session really. There was a bit of a misunderstanding.’

‘Misunderstanding?’

‘Yes. He assumed that I would be the one coming back after the assessment meeting to do the job.’

‘Oh. So did I.’

‘And I had every intention of doing so. But I know he’s on a deadline and the first space he had worked better for Bernice than me, and she said she was happy to do it, if I didn’t think he’d mind. Which I genuinely didn’t.’

‘But he did?’

‘Yes. Apparently he understood that when he said he wanted my company to do the job, that also meant me doing the job. It didn’t really come up that I had someone else working for me. We didn’t exactly get chatty.’

‘No. He said it was a little tense.’

Tense was an understatement. At least he’d had the grace not to tell my friend that I’d called her brother an arsehole.

‘Does you sending Bernice along instead have anything to do with the fact you called my brother an arsehole within five minutes of meeting him?’

Oh crap. Yet another reason why I don’t like doing favours for friends.

‘He told you that then.’

‘He did.’

I covered my face with my hands. ‘Janey I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not like that normally, you know that! It had been a really long day and I was soaked and freezing. I know that’s no excuse and I’m so sorry. Really.’

Janey wrapped her hands gently around my wrists and moved my hands away from my face.

‘I’ll tell you what came over you- Mikey O’Farrell. He has a knack for getting under people’s skin. Normally it’s in a good way. Or at least it always used to be. But since the divorce, he’s been known to…let’s say, ruffle a few feathers.’

I’d felt less like I’d had my feathers ruffled and more like I’d been entirely plucked.

‘Are you upset with me?’ I asked.

‘Me?’ Janey replied, laughing. ‘God, no. I grew up with him! I know exactly how bloody annoying my big brother can be, believe me. He’s had plenty of kicks in the shin, and anywhere else I could reach, over the years.’

‘Yes, but you’re family. I’m supposed to be a professional.’

‘Ah, don’t worry. It’s a good thing. You showed him you’re not a pushover. It’s set some boundaries.’

‘I couldn’t believe I’d said it.’

‘Well, between you and me, he found it funny so don’t go worrying yourself over it any more.’

‘He did?’

‘Incredibly. It tickled him that this super professional, conservative-looking woman suddenly just lost it at him.’

‘Well, I’m glad it amused him, at least.’ I rolled my eyes and sat back as the waiter brought our food and placed it front of us, his appearance thankfully distracting us both from the subject of Michael.

After we’d finished dinner, Janey sat back, her hands resting on her bump.

‘I feel as stuffed as a Christmas turkey.’

‘Full to the brim,’ I agreed.

‘I’m sorry I questioned you about Calum earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t upset me. I know you’re just looking out for me. And I really appreciate that. It’s…nice.’ And I meant it. Having someone looking out for me was a relatively new experience in my life and it had taken a little getting used to initially, but Janey’s care meant so much to me. More than I could ever put into words.

‘OK good. Then it’s probably all right for me to tell you I’m not really sorry. And I still don’t think he’s good enough for you.’

I shook my head, laughing. ‘You are just as impossible as your brother sometimes.’

‘You wouldn’t be taking my name in vain there, would you Katie?’

I jumped as Michael appeared beside me, his voice close to my ear in order to be heard over the din of the crowd.

‘Mikey! I didn’t know you were coming out tonight.’ His sister smiled up at him.

‘Neither did I. I was just on my way home from a meeting down on the coast. Thought I’d stop in.’

That explained the slightly more formal appearance. Although he still looked to be favouring the rumpled look.

‘Didn’t fancy ironing those clothes then?’ Janey said, running her eyes over him.

‘Lovely to see you too, sis,’ he said, ignoring the jibe. ‘How are you both?’ he asked, his eyes taking in the bump as he bent and kissed her on the cheek before balancing himself on the edge of the bench seat I was on. I shuffled along a little so that he had more room and he did the same. As he did so, the fresh citrusy smell of his aftershave tingled my senses.

‘We’re fine, thanks.’

‘Good. And you?’ he asked, turning to me as he took a swig from his beer bottle. ‘Had a good week?’

‘Yes, thanks. Busy.’

‘No difficult clients, I hope?’ His eyes danced with laughter as his smile disguised itself around the top of the bottle.

‘Only one. Thankfully. Huge pain in the backside.’

Janey laughed. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to get one over on this one Mikey. She’s got your number.’

‘Oh, I’m always happy for a pretty girl to have my number,’ he countered, grinning.

I made an ‘ugh’ noise which caused Janey to laugh even more.

‘Oh God. Stop it. I need the bloody loo again now.’ And with that she stood and made her way through the crowd once more.

Mikey stretched out his long legs in front of him, giving a glance around as he did so.

‘No boyfriend tonight?’

‘No, not tonight. He’s working.’

‘Tomorrow?’

I turned towards him. ‘I don’t know. Probably not. He’s very busy at the moment.’

‘Too busy to take his girl out on a Friday night?’

I squared myself against him. ‘I’m not “his girl” and yes, he’s busy on a Friday night. It’s not the end of the world. And, as it is, I’ve had a very nice evening. So, it’s absolutely fine.’

Mikey tilted his head. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘No.’

Yes.

‘I’ve had one glass of wine.’

One very large glass of wine.

‘Glad to hear it. It clearly loosens you up.’

I made the ‘ugh’ noise again, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Annoyingly, I knew I’d have a humdinger of a witty retort ready in about an hour’s time. He gave a chuckle and leaned in.

‘I meant it as a compliment.’

‘Then you need to work on your compliments.’

He nodded. ‘You’re probably right.’

I looked up at him. There was something in the tone of his voice when he said it, and his eyes had taken on a faraway look.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, unsure why I was bothered as to whether he was all right or not. But I was.

He pulled his gaze from the middle distance and focused the full force of it on me. I really wanted to look away but right now that was proving harder than it should be.

‘Of course. I’m sat next to a pretty girl who’s nicer to me the more alcohol she has inside her. So how about I buy you another drink?’

I sat up straighter. ‘Really? You really think that’s going to happen?’

He shrugged and took another swig from his bottle, clearly not bothered as to whether it happened or not.

‘Well, it’s not.’

He turned his gaze back on me. ‘I didn’t think for one minute that it would.’

My mouth dropped open.

‘So why even say it?’

‘Because you’re incredibly sexy when you’re all worked up.’

‘And you’re…’

He quirked an eyebrow, waiting to hear exactly what I thought he was. The problem was I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d been going to say.

‘I’m what?’ he prompted me.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, admitting defeat. ‘But it definitely wasn’t anything good!’

He grinned and I took a vicious swig of my drink, just as Janey returned to the table. She looked from one of us to the other.

‘Oh, for the love of God Mikey! What did you do now?’

Chapter Five

I waited at the door, huddled against the biting wind that was barrelling along the avenue and insinuating itself into every fibre of my body, despite all the layers I’d equipped myself with. A few moments later, Michael opened the door, dressed as usual in his beaten-up jeans and a T-shirt that looked like it had never been introduced to an iron in its entire lifetime.

‘Jesus, you look frozen to the bone. Get in here.’ He reached an arm out and took the bag I was carrying, hurrying me through the door at the same time.

‘It’s so cold out there today!’ I said conversationally as I shed my coat and almost immediately started shivering. I put my coat back on. ‘Actually I think I might keep this on for a bit longer.’

‘I’ll get us some hot drinks. Don’t worry the bedroom is nice and warm.’

I looked up in surprise. And for once, Michael O’Farrell wasn’t wearing that self-assured, confident look. His face showed almost as much surprise as mine.

‘That sounded a lot different from how it was supposed to.’

‘Right.’

‘I just meant that the bedroom – the guest room – you wanted to make a start on today is warm. For us to work in. Work on. Oh, for Christ’s sake. Put me out of my misery, will you?’ His face was equal parts pain and amusement.

I laughed and saw his face relax entirely. It was something that had been happening from a little more the last couple of visits and I was glad of it. I’d hated the tense atmosphere of the first session. It wasn’t only uncomfortable, but it stirred up memories I wanted to keep buried. This slight relaxation in the mood worked much better for me. And I couldn’t help but think it better for Michael too. Don’t get me wrong, we were hardly friends, but for the most part he wasn’t glaring at me and I wasn’t calling him names, so we had definitely moved on a little.

I pulled a couple of items out from under the spare bed. In one hand I held a copy of The Hungry Caterpillar, in the other the tiniest thong I had ever seen.

‘Interesting combination.’ I held them up to Michael.

‘Oh! That’s where it went. My nephew was looking for that.’

‘Not to be judgemental, but I really hope you’re talking about the book.’

He smiled at me. ‘I am.’

I looked at the pants dangling in my other hand, barely held by the minimum portion of fingertip and thumb required.

‘I think the hungry caterpillar may have been at these. They can’t possibly have been that tiny to start with.’ I shifted my eyes to him. ‘I take it these aren’t yours?’

‘No. Not really my colour.’

‘Any idea whose they are? Is she likely to want them back?’

He wrinkled his brow, then tilted his head at them, thinking. I gave an eye roll and shook my head.

‘What?’

‘The fact that you have to think that hard about it!’

‘Oh, don’t be such a prude.’

‘I am not a prude! But neither have I ever left anywhere “sans knickers”. Although frankly they’re so small as to be practically pointless anyway.’

‘I think they were more for effect.’

‘Clearly they had the desired one.’

He tilted his head at me and grinned. ‘Are you jealous?’

‘What? Of course I’m not jealous. Don’t be ridiculous.’

He gave me a look. ‘If you say so.’

‘I most certainly do say so. Now, what do you want to do with these? Will you be seeing her again and able to return them?’

He scrunched his face. ‘Doubt it.’

‘Oh. So you do at least remember who they belong to now? That’s something I suppose.’

‘I thought you said you weren’t going to be judgemental.’

‘I said that about your nephew. Not you.’

‘OK. Then for your records – as you seem to make them for everything – her name was Eva. She’s a Russian model, incredibly beautiful. I had an early morning appointment and she was very snappy that she had to leave early, from what I remember. Apparently not a morning person.’

‘Whereas I’m sure you’re absolutely delightful.’ My tone implied I believed he was probably anything but.

‘I am the epitome of cheer.’

I threw a disbelieving glance.

‘Just bin them. She won’t be calling.’

‘Sure?’

‘Positive. I got the impression she didn’t get turfed out of a man’s bed at 6 a.m. very often.’

‘I imagine not.’

‘In my defence, I had told her about the appointment and that I needed to leave early the following morning.’

‘I guess she didn’t think that applied to her too.’

‘I was hardly going to leave her alone in my house all day. I’d only met her that evening.’

‘And yet deemed that long enough to take her to bed.’

‘It wasn’t like I dragged her here. She came of her own free will.’ His eyes danced with mirth at the double entendre. I flung the pants at him and walked out of the room.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I said, as I hauled some more ‘accumulated items’ out from the wardrobe.

‘I should think so. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer it but you can give it a go.’

I shot him a look that told him what I thought of that reply.

He shrugged. ‘Honest answer,’ he said, disappearing under the bed to unearth whatever treasures lay under there. After the pants incident, we’d decided to swap places.

‘Evasive answer,’ I said, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the higher items. My fingertips brushed them and I took a step back, looking to see if there was a chair I could use. I giggled as my gaze fell on Michael. He was wriggling about under the bed, pulling things out, interspersed with the occasional sneeze. What particularly caught my eye was how nice his bum looked in those jeans. I hadn’t actually noticed before, but it really was –

‘You’ve gone quiet. That makes me suspicious.’ His statement interrupted my thoughts.

‘What?’ I said, blushing and supremely glad he was still wedged under the bed so he couldn’t see.

‘You said you were going to ask a question and then just went silent. Should I be worried?’

‘No. I was just concentrating on…something.’

Which most definitely wasn’t how nice your bum is.

‘Right.’

I removed a pile of jackets from a chair tucked in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the wardrobe. Stepping up, I pulled out the pile of boxes from the top shelf. Turning, I jumped and wobbled as I found Michael stood in front of me.

Automatically, his hands shot out and rested on my waist. ‘Steady on.’

‘Do you have a stealth mode or something? Two seconds ago you were under that bed.’

‘You learn to be quiet in a big family if you want to sneak out when you’re supposed to be grounded.’

‘And I imagine that was probably quite often.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying.’

‘I’m sure you do. Now take these for me, would you?’

He took the pile of items off me and put them down on the floor, along with all the other items we’d so far emptied from storage. I turned back to grab a few more items. Balancing on one leg, I reached up and stretched my fingers to pull the last items towards me. The chair gave a little wobble and I gripped the shelf to steady myself. I heard Michael mutter something under his breath and a moment later, two large hands were on my waist lifting me off the chair. He plonked me down on the floor and waited until I was entirely stable before removing them.

‘Excuse me! I haven’t quite finished!’

‘You’ve definitely finished balancing precariously on chairs in my home. And anywhere else, I hope. You’re going to damn well break something if you keep that up!’

I stood straighter, going into defence mode.

‘In the nearly seven years I’ve been doing this, I have never once broken any possession of any client. So your items are entirely safe, I assure you.’

He screwed up his face for a moment. ‘I’m not talking about possessions. I’m talking about you! I’d really prefer it if you didn’t fall off and break your neck, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘That wasn’t my plan. Besides, I’ve done it hundreds of times. I was perfectly all right.’

He looked down at me, still close from when he’d lifted me off the chair.

‘I don’t care if you’ve done it millions of times. I’d rather you didn’t do it any more.’

‘Some of us aren’t blessed with your height. I need to be able to get to places.’

‘Then use a stepladder! Something made for the purpose that you can hold on to. And don’t overstretch yourself like you were just doing. It’s going to end badly one day if you keep on like that. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.’

I gave a huff. ‘I still need those last few bits out of that wardrobe.’ I pointed to where I’d been a few minutes before. Michael reached up to get the bits I couldn’t, his T-shirt rising up as he did so, exposing the muscles of his lower back, twisting and taut as he felt around for anything left. I really ought to be looking away. Ideally.

Shortly after Janey had sat back down the other night, Michael had wandered off and, moments later, was leaning against a wall, chatting to a blonde that had been eyeing him up since the moment he’d walked in. From the way she’d been leaning into him and touching his arm every few seconds, it was apparent that his pastime of trying to get a reaction out of me had been transferred to his current company – although, admittedly, the reaction he was aiming for, and clearly getting, in that situation was entirely different to the one he aimed for, and annoyingly, usually got, from me. Absentmindedly, I wondered if his current practice of ‘not giving anyone a tour of the house’ might change once it was in a better state. Somehow, I doubted it. The fact that he kept his bedroom so impersonal hinted to me that he had no inclination to show who he really was. And it didn’t look like he was going to give me the chance to suggest how he could make his bedroom more welcoming either, judging by the fact he’d bitten my head off the last time I mentioned it. From what Janey had said, Michael hadn’t always been like this. I guessed that the split with his ex-wife had really made an impact on him – and not for the better.

‘Where are you?’

‘Huh?’ I jumped as Michael’s deep voice drifted into my thoughts.

‘You were miles away.’

‘Umm…’

No, actually I was just at the top of this house, in your bedroom. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to be the best answer.

‘And now you’re blushing.’ His face took on a look of mild amusement.

‘I am not blushing! How ridiculous. Why on earth would I be blushing?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m intrigued to find out.’

I shook my head. ‘You’re imagining things. Now come on. There’s work to do.’

Michael gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t even remotely convinced before looking down at the pile of stuff that covered his floor.

‘I don’t even know what half this stuff is! How can I have accumulated this much crap?’

I crouched and then sat on the floor. ‘This is nothing. At least you can move in your house. You wouldn’t believe some of the places I’ve been in.’

I glanced up. Michael was looking around. His gaze travelled to the open door where another room’s door stood open awaiting a similar fate. I reached up and tugged on his arm.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ The shutters closed on his expression but I pressed on.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

He ran a hand through his too-long hair. ‘Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.’

‘I see. You know you can’t lie for toffee, don’t you?’

His gaze flicked to me and I held it.

‘Fine. I was thinking that there is no way this house is going to be ready for visitors to stay in at Christmas.’ He transferred his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it a couple of times. ‘You know what, Kate? This is just a waste of time. Yours and mine. And I really don’t have it to waste. There are plenty of things I could be doing instead of faffing around here.’

I pushed myself up from the floor and faced him.

‘What are you talking about? We’ve really only just started.’

‘Exactly! We’ve only just started and in a few weeks’ time I’m supposed to have a house that’s fit for everyone to stay in and produce an outstanding Christmas dinner. It’s all just a bloody farcical!’ His chest was heaving and his jaw was tight.

‘What’s so farcical about spending Christmas with your family?’

He looked down at me. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘It’s how it sounded. And it’s how it’ll sound to Janey and the rest of them.’

He gave me a look. ‘Whilst I appreciate that you and my sister are good friends, I’d also appreciate you understanding that I know my family better than you do. Your family might be overly sensitive about petty things, but mine aren’t.’

I turned for a moment, watching little flurries of snow tumble past the window as I ordered my thoughts, pushing the unnecessary ones away.

‘I see. So, what is it that you’re saying, exactly?’

‘I’m saying that I think both of us can spend our time more productively. So, it’s probably best if you left and attended to those other clients you mentioned before, all vying for your attention.’ Michael caught my eye and for once, couldn’t hold my gaze. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think there was a flash of remorse there. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time,’ he mumbled.

I smoothed my skirt down. ‘No problem. I have to say though, I never had you down as a quitter. Plenty of other things, definitely. But a quitter wasn’t one of them.’

Michael turned and glared at me. ‘I am not a quitter. I’m a realist.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. It’s so. And the realistic assessment of this…situation,’ he flapped his arm to encompass the mess that currently surrounded us, ‘is that however good you think you are, there is no way this place is going to be ready for Christmas. It’s a joke to even think that I was ever going to be able to have my family here.’

I watched him for a moment, his fists clenched, the muscles in his forearm taut as steel cables, a flicker at his jaw as he tried to contain whatever it was that had kicked off inside him. And I recognised it. The anger that hid something far more vulnerable. I’d also had a lot of practice at dealing with it.

‘Michael I’m sorry if you thought that I presumed to know more about your family than you. Obviously that’s not the case and it wasn’t what I meant. What I do know is that it’s important to them for all this to happen.’ I repeated his action of encompassing the mess around us, albeit in a calmer manner. ‘Not because they don’t want to host Christmas this year but because they care about you and this is the best way of getting it done. Being given a deadline is something you’re familiar with in your work. It’s how you work best. You even said something similar yourself the first time we met. I know it looks bad now, but it always does at this stage. And believe me, this really is nothing compared to some places.’ I leant and touched his knotted forearm, and he turned, his green eyes cool and shuttered. ‘Michael I know you want to be able to have your family here this Christmas – ’

‘Seems like you know an awful lot.’

I took a breath and ignored the jibe. Again, something else I’d had experience of.

‘I’m really good at my job and I have faith in you. Both of which mean that I’m confident we can achieve what we need to.’

He gave me a look under his lashes that hinted he still wasn’t entirely convinced.

OK, one more push.

‘Assuming, of course, you really aren’t a quitter.’

His head snapped up and I got a glare for my trouble. Which was fine. Because I knew I had him. I plopped back down on the floor.

‘Right. Now that’s sorted, you can get your backside down here and help me see what we’ve got.’

***

‘Morning Kate! Cold enough to freeze the brass ones off a monkey out there today!’ Head vet, Mark held the door for me as I attempted to struggle in with my load.

‘It certainly is. The snow’s just started again too.’

‘What have you got there? More goodies?’

‘Yes. Couple more blankets that I thought might be of use.’

‘Great! Another client or have you been treating these pooches out of your own pocket again?’

I grinned. ‘No. These were surplus to requirements at a client’s so I asked if I could take them to donate myself.’

We’d found piles of blankets in a cupboard at Michael’s house. Even with all those bedrooms, it was unlikely he’d ever need so many. Apparently the ex had really liked to shop.

‘The tags are still on these blankets! And they’re not cheap ones.’

‘I know. I suggested selling them but the client wasn’t interested. He just said to make sure they went to a good home, whatever I wanted. I couldn’t think of anywhere better than here.’

‘They’re much appreciated, as always. Thanks Kate.’

Mark took the items off me and headed off to put them in the supply store. I, meanwhile, set off to the kennels, grabbing a cleaning trolley on the way.

‘Hi Kate!’ Sara, another volunteer, smiled as I approached the kennel block. ‘How are you?’

‘Good thanks. Busy week?’

Sara was a day trader in the city and in her working life wore designer suits and traded in numbers with so many zeros it made my head spin. Not that you’d know it looking at her now. But the smile she wore said it all. She volunteered here to escape the stress and even though that included undesirable jobs like washing out kennels and other chores that few people would put high on their list of ‘things I like to do in my free time’, it was all part of it.

The other part of it was the animals. The centre mostly catered for dogs but they also took in the odd cat to help out other local shelters and had recently acquired two horses, a donkey and a Vietnamese Pot-bellied pig. These latest additions had been found in a barn after the owners moved, leaving no forwarding address. When John, the owner of the rescue centre, heard that there was the possibility of the horses being put down due to a lack of someone prepared to take them, he’d cleared an outbuilding and two days later had a comfy stable suitable for the animals to stay in. The pig also lived in there at the moment as it had delusions of grandeur and hadn’t quite yet figured out that it wasn’t actually a horse. But we were working on that.

‘How’s Bruno today?’ I came up to the kennel she was working on. It smelled clean and fresh from her efforts. A large Labrador was lounging on the dog bed with his head resting on the leg of her ripped jeans. His eyes were closing as she rhythmically stroked his ears.

‘Much better, thank goodness. He really seems to be settling. He’s eating quite well now too so John is hoping to be able to put him on the website in the next couple of days.’

‘Oh that’s great! It won’t be long before he finds a good home. Look at that face. How could anyone resist?’ Bruno was now making satisfied groany noises as Sara found a sweet spot under his chin.

‘I wish I could take him.’

I smiled, sadly. ‘That’s the worst bit, isn’t it? Falling in love.’

‘Depends on the circumstances.’ She looked up at me from under her lashes.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there something I should know?’

Sara’s smile widened and she pulled her other hand out from under Bruno’s head, an action which he made no effort to facilitate. One eye opened as she stopped caressing his ears to pull her glove off. On her third finger was a stunning, not to mention enormous, diamond.

I grabbed her hand. ‘Oh my God! He asked? You said he’d never ask!’

‘I know! Believe me, I didn’t think he would. He always said he wouldn’t get married again, but then…’ She looked down at the ring, her face radiating happiness, contentment and perhaps a little lingering surprise. ‘I still can’t believe it!’

I leant over the dog and gave her a hug. ‘Oh Sara. I’m so pleased for you, I really am. It’s wonderful news!’

‘Thanks Kate. I can’t tell you how happy I am. I thought I’d come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t ever get married, because I knew I didn’t want my life to not have Henry in it. So, I’d just accepted that’s how it would be. And then, this! Completely out of the blue.’

‘Did he say why he changed his mind?’

‘He just said that he realised he was judging every marriage by his first one and that wasn’t fair on me, or himself. Now I think he’s even more excited than I am that we’re actually getting married!’

I laughed. ‘That’s brilliant! Oh Sara. I’m just thrilled for you!’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, pulling the glove back on. ‘And what about you? How’s Calum?’

‘Oh, he’s fine. Busy.’

‘As always.’

I did a quick eyebrow raise. ‘I know. But I’m sure things will settle down soon and we can get to spend some more time together. Right, I’d better get a move on. Congratulations again.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see you later.’

‘OK. Bye.’

I grabbed the handle of my trolley and pulled it around to the block I usually looked after, pondering on the fact that my reply to Sara about Calum had just trotted out like a well-rehearsed line. Which I suppose it was.

It was true what I’d said to Janey about it being good to have someone who understood that I got busy, and I accepted that Calum worked a lot. He’d told me that from the beginning. Although, admittedly, I had thought we’d see each other a little more than we actually did. And the longer it went on, the harder it sometimes was. I was getting fed up of explaining away his absence so often and trying not to notice the private looks people exchanged when I did so. I got the feeling that some people didn’t even believe he existed. It was hard to blame them. There were weeks when he was so busy he barely called or texted at all. But I liked him and he’d promised me things would change soon. So until then, I’d just put up with the looks and comments. Things would change for the better soon.

I got to the edge of the block and opened the first kennel.

‘Hiya, Kong,’ I called as I entered.

A tiny patter of paws barely made a sound as the dog scuttled towards me. I scooped him up and gave him a cuddle. The teacup Yorkshire Terrier had come to the centre so thin it was hard to believe how he was still even alive. None of us had expected him to last another day. He was roughly the same size as one of the Kong toys we stuffed with cheese and treats for the bigger dogs, hence his name, and we all prepared for hearing the worst the next time we came in. But on my next shift, to my great surprise, not to mention delight, little Kong was still there and had even gained some weight. The vets had had to be careful about building him up gradually but he was now at a much healthier weight, and we were just awaiting some results from some tests on his kidneys. If those came back OK, which Mark was pretty confident would happen, Kong would soon be gracing the rehoming pages on the rescue centre’s website. He wouldn’t be up there long. His loving nature combined with perfect portability meant he’d be snapped up in hours, I suspected. I’d miss his little snuggles and really wished I could have him for myself, but it wasn’t possible with my job. And it wasn’t exactly the first time I’d been told I couldn’t have a pet. Even though this time I was the one giving myself the order. But at least now, here, I got to have the interaction with the animals that I loved.

I tucked Kong in the front of my hoody where he liked to sit whilst I cleaned out his kennel. From there he watched everything that was going on, keeping nice and warm. I chatted away to him as I did my chores and he sat, listening contentedly. Today I told him about Sara’s engagement, that I hadn’t been seeing Calum as much as I’d hoped, and then I told him about my latest client, Michael O’Farrell, and the fact that I still couldn’t even begin to make him out.

Several hours later, I’d cleaned all the kennels in my block, helped feed all the guests and played with a puppy for far too long before its new owner came to pick her up.

‘You look like that Stay Puft guy from Ghostbusters,’ Mark said, laughing as he wandered over.

I pulled the scarf down that was currently tucked up to my nose.

‘You say the nicest things.’

‘I try.’

‘How many layers have you got on?’

I paused a moment. ‘Four, I think.’

He grinned.

‘Who you taking?’

‘Pete and Bonio.’

‘Good choice.’

I smiled back and grabbed a couple of leads from the line of hooks on the wall.

‘See you later.’

‘See ya. Have fun.’

I tucked a tennis ball in each pocket and snagged a ball flinger from the shelf. ‘That’s the plan.’

With that I walked back in the direction of the kennels, collected my charges for the afternoon and set off for the fields adjoining the centre, a dog on each side of me. The snow had stopped for now and a watery sun was making a half-hearted attempt to shine through, even though it wasn’t that long until it was time for it to think about setting.

‘Right lads,’ I said, closing the gate behind me and bending down to unclip each lead. Both dogs waited, eager. Clearly these two knew who was the leader of the pack in this instance. Or maybe they just knew that I had tasty sausage pieces in my pocket.

Dropping a tennis ball in the cup of the thrower, I flicked my arm back and then let the ball fly. Bonio and Pete took off immediately. I loaded another and let it go, the ball zooming over their heads and Pete peeled off to chase the second one. Their enthusiasm and sheer joy made me laugh as I watched them. Bending, I called to them, my voice full of encouragement as I clapped my gloved hands. They charged back towards me, each with a soggy tennis ball held proud. Wagging their tails, they plonked their bottoms down in the snow and waited for a treat and a cuddle. I dropped down and gave them both, revelling in the warmth they radiated. And, if I was honest, also in the sense of being wanted, of belonging, of the love that they filled me with. I knew exactly where I was with these animals. There were no games, no falsehoods, no pretending-everything-was-fine. It was one of the many reasons I loved the time I spent here. I knew exactly where I stood.

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