Christmas at the Lucky Parrot Garden Centre Page 5

  Instead, something far worse happened.

  Hannah heard Pepper skitter across the floor and turned to check on him. The fur on his back was raised as he chased a piece of shredded toilet paper.

  ‘Oh Pepper you daft thing!’

  A sudden gust came through the open window, swirled the loo paper around madly, lifting it off the floor and towards the window.

  Pepper leapt after it, his little paws extended, and missed, just as the shred of toilet paper swirled out of the window.

  ‘No!’

  Panicked that he was going to hurl himself straight through the window after his prize, Hannah snagged the cat mid-air, letting go of the towel as she did so.

  Pepper yowled, twisted in her arms, and broke free, landing on the window sill and doing a tight U-turn before dropping back into the bathroom

  Topless and cold in the fresh air, Hannah had a second or two of complete disconnect. Then she yanked the towel up again, clutching it to her chest, beyond embarrassment.

  Daniel was looking up at her, silent and dazed, either because of nearly having a large ginger tom plunge onto his face, or at the sight of so much … bounty.

  Or both.

  Slamming the bathroom window shut, she caught a last glimpse of Daniel, his mockery gone, his expression shell-shocked.

  At least she had wiped the smile off his face.

  Pepper, satisfied with a job well done, sat down among the debris of shredded toilet paper, and calmly licked one paw to smooth his whiskers.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Monday was all about bulbs, so Hannah got into work early, sorting them into those that were still good for spring planting and those that were getting past their sell-by date, and then sticking fluorescent discount labels on the latter.

  Later in the morning, she gathered together the first set of sorted and priced bulbs and tugged them to the display outside the entrance. To her right stood the Lucky Parrot Coffee Shop with its cheery yellow and green décor, and already a few customers were occupying some of the wooden, cushion-backed seats.

  One customer stood out, snagging her attention as she breezed past the glass door.

  A tall, dark-haired man was seated near the counter. He appeared to be engrossed in reading a loose sheet of paper, his attention never wavering as he lifted a cup to his mouth and took a sip.

  Hannah frowned. Impossible!

  Suddenly, a child burst through the café door, giving her a clearer view. She shrank back instinctively. It was indeed her new neighbour, Daniel Elliott. She tried not to, but could not avoid remembering her nudity and the glimpse he must have enjoyed for those endless two or three seconds before she managed to correct her towel slippage.

  He looked up and caught her staring.

  Damn.

  Hannah glowered at him, not pleased to find Ivy’s great-nephew at her place of work too. Was nowhere safe? She had so many jobs to get through today, and it would be much harder to concentrate with him around.

  Slowly he raised his hand.

  The child had left the glass door open. At that moment, a strong wintry gust swept through from the entrance doors and seized Daniel’s papers off the table, whisking them into the air and swirling them around.

  Daniel cursed and leapt to his feet, slamming one hand down on the pile to stop any more blowing away, while he snatched at the flying sheets with the other. His abrupt movement rocked the table, and his cup sloshed coffee everywhere.

  She should just get back to her work and leave him to it, Hannah thought, watching.

  Then sighed, and went over to help him, closing the door carefully behind her to avoid any further gusts.

  ‘Pretty windy today,’ she said awkwardly, not looking at him as she bent to retrieve some of the scattered papers. ‘You probably ought to use a paper clip.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said drily, taking the sheets from her and stacking them back on the table. ‘For the help … and the tip.’

  There was one sheet under a neighbouring table, occupied by a silver-haired old lady eating a toasted, buttered teacake with trembling fingers. Hannah scooted across to recover the lost document, shooting the customer an apologetic smile as she crouched down at her feet. Picking up the creased piece of paper, she smoothed it out, and saw it was some kind of script, with character names followed by dialogue.

  Katy appeared beside her, her eyes wide. She was on café duty that week, so was decked out in the special café uniform, a green skirt and yellow blouse topped with a white plastic apron. ‘Psst, what on earth are you doing in here?’ she hissed, dragging her away from the curious old lady. ‘Camilla’s on the war path this morning. Think she’s got boyfriend trouble again. Better not get caught slacking.’

  ‘She was just helping me,’ Daniel said deeply from behind them, and both women turned to stare, Hannah hurriedly handing back his document. ‘I had an accident. Spilled my coffee and managed to throw half the contents of my briefcase on the floor.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Katy looked from him to Hannah, her lips parted in surprise, then quickly recovered herself. She held up the damp cloth she’d been clutching. ‘Coffee spillage, did you say? I’m on the case.’

  Once his papers were back in a neat pile, and Katy had wiped the table free of coffee, and even offered him a top-up on the house, Hannah slipped away without saying goodbye.

  It was nice to know that Daniel was also capable of looking a bit of an idiot at times, she thought, and it wasn’t just her.

  Feeling a lot more cheerful, Hannah went back to sorting spring bulbs. The second pile of bulbs sporting bright yellow sales stickers grew quickly as she got into a rhythm, and she was engrossed in her work when a shadow blocked the light.

  She glanced up, a little breathless from exertion, her mousey-brown fringe drooping in her eyes, and saw Daniel looking down at her.

  His gaze drifted from her face to her chest and settled there. Oh, for goodness sake! Hannah tightened her grip on the bulb in her hand until she felt like it would burst. If Daniel so much as mentioned Saturday, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

  ‘No frostbite then, after their exposure on – ’

  ‘Not another word.’ Furious, Hannah lobbed the bulb at Daniel’s head.

  ‘Sorry!’ He snagged the bulb neatly out of the air, his eyes full of wicked humour. ‘But you have to admit, it was funny. I thought Christmas had come early.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ she said bitterly, straightening up, ‘there’s no need to milk it.’

  As the inadvertent pun she’d made registered, Daniel rocked back on his heels and roared with laughter. Hannah hesitated, then couldn’t help joining him.

  ‘I don’t believe I said that.’ She buried her face in her hands, then peeked out of her fingers at him. ‘It’s not the breast pun I’ve ever made,’ she added, which set them both off again.

  Between laughs, Daniel added, ‘You’re just racking them up now, aren’t you?’

  When their hilarity finally subsided, he handed her back the bulb she’d thrown at him, saying, ‘Thank you for that. You’ve provided me with the most fun I’ve had in … Well, in years.’

  Hannah wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or flattered by that. She was trying to make up her mind when he suddenly asked, ‘Hannah, would you like to have lunch with me?’

  Lunch?

  After she’d thrown a spring bulb at his head? And decided he was a vampire and scattered garlic over her threshold to keep him out?

  Perhaps he was crazy.

  She blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his invitation. She was equally eager not to notice how startlingly green his eyes were, and how being at the centre of all his focus made her feel unsettled and set tingles travelling over her skin.

  ‘Ahem.’ She cleared her throat, looking down at her bulbs again. ‘Lunch? With you?’

  ‘That’s the idea, yes.’

  Trying to hide how flustered she was, she bagged some bulbs, not even caring if they
were the right ones, and stuck on a random sale label. ‘Like a … a date?’

  ‘Exactly like a date.’

  ‘Why?’

  He paused, clearly surprised. ‘Does there need to be a reason?’

  ‘Well, yes, there does. I’m at work, for a start, and I don’t usually get asked to go to lunch when I’m at work. In fact, I think this is a first.’

  ‘I see.’ His expression lightened as if she’d said something amusing again. ‘Look, I like you, that’s all, and I want to get to know you a little better.’ He glanced at his phone for the time. ‘You’re surely due for a lunch break soon. Maybe we could grab something in the café, if that’s more convenient for you?’

  Hannah thought about sitting opposite Daniel in her horrid yellow and green Lucky Parrot uniform, and her flyaway hair and lack of makeup, and felt herself blush. ‘I don’t think so. Thank you, but it wouldn’t be right to eat lunch with a customer. Not on a day when I’m working, at any rate.’

  Besides which, despite their laughter, there was a whole catalogue of humiliating episodes littering the brief few times she had seen him. She didn’t particularly feel like tempting fate by spending any more time in his proximity. On top of all that, he was a bit too attractive and sophisticated for her.

  While her brain was busy making these arguments against the dangers of lunch, another part of her was sitting up and yelling, ‘Say yes, say yes!’

  ‘Your line manager doesn’t have a problem with you lunching with a customer.’

  ‘How can you possibly know that?’

  ‘I asked her,’ he said coolly.

  Hannah stared, lost for words, then said slowly, ‘You’d have to put up with my uniform.’ The garish yellow and parrot green dungarees were not exactly haute couture, and there’d be no hiding that he was lunching with staff.

  If she thought that would put him off she was wrong.

  ‘It doesn’t bother me.’ He looked her up and down. ‘I rather like the uniform here. It’s certainly … unforgettable. So, will you join me for lunch?’

  Sam approached, his spiky tuft of hair making him look like a parrot himself. ‘Time for your break, Hannah. Look smart. There’s Yorkshire rarebit on the menu today and ….’ His voice faded away, and he looked from Hannah to Daniel, no doubt recognising him as the sinister cricket-buying man. ‘Sorry, am I interrupting something?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Hannah and Daniel both spoke at once, and Sam looked confused. ‘Erm ..’

  ‘I’m trying to persuade Hannah to have lunch with me,’ Daniel said smoothly.

  ‘Great idea. She doesn’t get out enough.’ Sam frowned at Daniel. ‘How did those crickets work out for you?’ He winked at Hannah.

  ‘They were very tasty, thanks.’

  Sam gave an embarrassed laugh, then frowned, looking at Daniel more closely. ‘Hang on, do I … know you? You look familiar.’

  ‘I’m Daniel Elliott.’ He held out his hand. ‘I don’t think we’ve met before, except in the context of buying up your stores of edible insects.’

  Sam shook it, still staring. ‘Sam Eagles. Wait, there’s a Hollywood film director called Daniel Elliott. I’m a film buff, read all the latest mags and website. And you do look a bit like him.’ He stopped shaking his hand but did not let go, squinting at Daniel, ‘You’re actually him, aren’t you? You’re that Daniel Elliott.’

  Daniel managed to extricate his hand but smiled politely enough at Sam. ‘Yes, that’s me. It’s always great to meet a fan.’ He turned to Hannah, a somewhat hunted expression on his face now. ‘So, are we having lunch?’

  Hollywood?

  He was famous? A film director?

  ‘Say yes, Hannah,’ Sam said, urging her with a sharp elbow in her ribs. ‘You’ve got to, okay? If you don’t, I’ll go instead. It’s such an opportunity.’

  Hannah, half-minded to stammer some excuse and run away, caught Daniel’s eye. ‘Yes, why not?’ Then kicked herself for being so soft. He was not in her league. She worked in a garden centre, and he was … what? Some world-famous celebrity? But for a moment there, he had looked… almost vulnerable. And she had forgotten the differences between them, and only wanted to save him from Sam, who was a nice lad but could be a right nuisance at times. ‘And the Yorkshire rarebit is pretty good here.’

  Mondays were quiet in the café. Thank goodness, she thought, glad not to be the object of attention as she followed Daniel mutely.

  He picked a table at the edge of the room as far away from the door as possible. No doubt worried about his paper napkin being blown off his lap by another unexpected gust, Hannah thought, suppressing a grin. She took the seat opposite him, feeling highly self-conscious but not uncomfortable. It was impossible to feel ill at ease in the Lucky Parrot Café with its cheerful yellow-and-white gingham tablecloths, and its gentle sense of intimacy, the potted plants and miniature trees that decorated the café creating little alcoves, like the one they were occupying. She had always found it a very restful place … except when the mums-and-tots group met on a Wednesday afternoon, filling the quiet air with shrieks, wails and the buzz of motherly gossip.

  ‘Very pretty,’ Daniel murmured, glancing about the café with approval before meeting her nervous gaze. ‘Do you come here often?’

  ‘It has been known.’

  ‘Not many other cafés for miles around though,’ he said, smiling at her surprise. ‘I googled. So I suppose it’s this or sandwiches.’

  ‘I tend to alternate,’ she said, though that wasn’t strictly true. Sandwiches were cheaper, despite the staff discount on meals here. But she wasn’t discussing her finances with this man.

  Winking fairy lights and festive red-and-gold tinsel strung about the walls livened the room, providing an antidote against the dull grey of approaching rain. Though it was nippy enough today to snow, Hannah thought, and shivered at the thought of her long walk home if the white stuff began to fall before closing time.

  He followed her gaze, peering out of the nearest window. ‘Looks like snow soon.’

  Was he some kind of mind-reader?

  ‘It’s a bit early for snow,’ she said tartly, and snapped her menu open, pretending to read what was printed there when in fact her eyes could hardly focus on anything but his face.

  Sam appeared, waving a white paper napkin at Daniel. ‘Would you sign this, please?’

  Daniel, showing a great deal of patience, produced a smart-looking pen from an inner pocket of his jacket and signed the napkin.

  Sam went back to work, head bent over his hero’s signature, his face dreamy.

  Katy came over to take their order, smiling broadly and giggling. Before she’d even asked what they wanted to drink, she held out a paper napkin. ‘Could you sign one for me too, please, Mr Elliott?’

  Hannah glared at her. ‘Katy, you don’t even know who he is.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ Katy smirked at Daniel, her look admiring. ‘He’s a big shot Hollywood director. He’s even been nominated for an Oscar. Sam told me.’

  Dutifully, Daniel signed her napkin and handed it back. ‘So tell me, Katy’ he said, smiling up at his waitress, ‘what’s so special about Yorkshire rarebit?’

  Her expression suddenly wiped blank, Katy struggled to find an answer, then said weakly, ‘Erm … Well, it’s from Yorkshire.’

  Hannah grimaced at Daniel, but he merely smiled back at her, unrelenting.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘It’s got good Yorkshire ale added to it,’ Katy managed to add, finishing with a rush, ‘and it tastes … super.’

  ‘Any garlic in it?’

  ‘I doubt it. We don’t really do garlic in Yorkshire.’

  ‘What about blood – ’

  Under the table, Hannah aimed a kick at his shin.

  He yelped, breaking off mid-sentence, and reached down to rub his leg, his tone rueful. ‘Sorry, not blood. I meant black pudding. Do you have anything with that?’

  ‘We serve pork
pies with black pudding. They’re quite popular.’

  ‘I’ll stick with the Yorkshire rarebit, thanks.’

  ‘Me too,’ Hannah said promptly, and handed over her menu. ‘With a pot of tea.’

  ‘Tea for me too, please.’

  After Katy had left them alone, her curious gaze barely leaving Daniel’s face the entire time, he leant across the table and whispered, ‘That hurt. You didn’t have to kick me quite so hard.’

  ‘Lay off the vampire allusions. I made a silly mistake.’ She gave him a smouldering glance. ‘There’s no need to keep rubbing it in.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll let it go. Though don’t blame me if it ends up in a film one day … ’

  ‘You dare!’

  He grinned, relaxing. ‘Okay, tell me about your co-workers instead. They seem a lively bunch.’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it. They’re total pranksters, which livens things up at work. The job is rarely boring with them around, I’ll say that.’ She paused, watching Katy as the petite blonde busied herself behind the counter, swiftly setting out their tea cups and pots. ‘Some of them are good friends too.’

  ‘So you enjoy your work?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘I like working outdoors, and with plants. And there’s always something different to do here.’

  He read the hesitation in her face. ‘But?’

  ‘But … ’ she repeated slowly, holding his gaze, ‘I’d rather be working for myself.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘One day I hope to have my own landscaping business. That’s been my plan since leaving university. So working here means I can save for a business start-up while doing work I enjoy.’ She smiled. ‘It’s certainly better than working in an office.’

  Daniel seemed interested in her business idea, she discovered. He was a good listener too, asking intelligent questions. She confided in him so easily, it surprised her, telling him how she hoped to add tree surgery and climbing to her qualifications so that she could tackle every aspect of landscaping.

  She even told him about her idea for vampire gnomes, and enjoyed seeing him laugh

  Their Yorkshire rarebit arrived, looking and smelling utterly gorgeous, laden with bacon bits and cheesy goodness. After Katy had put the plates in front of them, she lingered, her expression sheepish as she asked, ‘Sorry to disturb you again, Mr Elliott. But can you sign these for the others? They’d love your autograph as well.’ She bit her lip. ‘We don’t tend to get celebrities at the Lucky Parrot, so we need to make the most of it.’