Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

‘Four months or so. We broke up in July.’

‘What went wrong?’

I smiled ruefully. ‘He worked too much.’

Anthony laughed lightly. ‘What did he do?’

‘For a job, you mean?’ I winced slightly. ‘I was never completely sure, to be honest. He ran an IT company or something. Whatever it was required him being out of the country a lot.’

‘Where did he go?’

I shrugged. ‘Places with no phone signal, usually.’

Anthony raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Surely if he worked in IT he’d be going to towns and cities that had good network coverage?’

‘Exactly. I’m quite ashamed at how long it took me to realise he was stringing me along, but at least I got there in the end.’

‘How long were you seeing him?’

‘Just over seven months, but if you condensed that into the time we actually spent together, it would probably be more like one or two. He lived in London, so even when he was in the country it was difficult.’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘London’s not exactly the end of the earth, is it. There are fairly regular trains, for a start. Did you go and visit him or did he come here?’

‘He came here.’

‘Always?’

‘Yes, apart from when we went to Paris one weekend.’

The waitress appeared with our drinks and took our food orders. He thanked her before turning back to me. ‘You never got to see where he lived? Did that never strike you as odd?’

I shrugged. ‘I was more concerned with when I was going to see him again. If we’d spent more time together, then maybe I would have. I suppose it doesn’t matter now anyway.’

‘You’re over him, are you?’

‘Yes.’ I reached for my drink and took a sip.

‘You don’t miss him at all?’

‘Not really. We didn’t spend enough time together for me to really miss him. I suppose I missed the idea of him at first. The possibility that he would come and visit me. But it didn’t take too long for me to realise that my life was pretty much the same as it had always been. If anything, it was easier because I didn’t have the agony of waiting for the phone to ring or the disappointment when he couldn’t see me, yet again.’ I sighed heavily and shook my head, more at myself than anything else. ‘It’s strange because, at the time, I was mad about him, but he feels like some kind of dream now.’

‘Dream? Or nightmare?’

I laughed. ‘Oh, he was a dream. When he was around he was lovely. It’s just that he had no substance. He just came and went like some kind of stray cat. Anyway, let’s not talk about Patrick. What about you?’

Anthony’s eyes flickered and he shook his head. ‘Nothing much to say really. I live a very boring, simple life. I run, work, eat and sleep, and that’s the way I like it.’

I cocked my head to one side. ‘What job do you do?’

‘I’m a detective.’

‘You are?’ My eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Wow! I didn’t expect that.’

‘What did you expect?’ He laughed as he took a sip of his beer.

‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘Just not that.’

‘Does it bother you?’

‘Of course it doesn’t. Why would it bother me? I just didn’t expect you to work in the police at all, really. I thought you’d be something like… I don’t know… a barrister, or something?’

‘Why?’ He looked amused.

‘Because of your suit and your manners and how well-spoken you are.’

‘And detectives can’t wear good suits and have nice manners? What about Inspector Morse and Inspector Linley?’

‘I was thinking more of Rebus, but okay then.’

He laughed. ‘We come in all shapes and sizes.’

‘Do you like your job?’

‘Yes, I love it.’

‘Does it get you down? Dealing with murderers and paedophiles?’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t. I’m primarily fraud at the moment, though.’

‘Oh, okay. Presumably that’s less emotionally traumatic to investigate than some other crimes?’

‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘There’s no such thing as a victimless crime, though.’

I nodded, and waited for him to continue, but he just looked at me. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know much about fraud really. ‘Are you investigating anything at the moment?’ I said at last, slightly bewildered by his silence.

‘Of course. Fraud’s a massive problem.’

‘I expect you have to work long hours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hence why you’re really bad at relationships?’

‘Absolutely.’ He smiled and took another sip from his glass of beer.

‘Not all detectives are single, though, are they?’ I sat back and moved my cutlery to one side as the waitress appeared with our plates of food. ‘Surely some of them are married and have families?’ I smiled my thanks to the waitress.

‘Thank you. Yes, of course they are. My friend John is very happily married.’