The man reaches down, patting him on the head.
“Do you work at the florist?” I quiz, to which he shakes his head. “An explanation would be nice.”
His white teeth glisten as he smiles.
My eyes narrow. “No, actually forget it, I’m ringing the police.”
I turn my back on him.
“Snow sent me.” His words stop me dead.
I turn back and again I ask him, “How did you get in?”
“The front of the porch, the red gnome holding the fishing rod.”
“Rodney?” That’s a family secret; nobody knows the way his head screws off.
He chuckles. “Nice! Do you name all your ornaments?”
I frown, not entertaining his humour.
“God, lighten up, will ya? Snow told me where the key was kept.” His voice has suddenly lost its jovial edge.
“How long have you been here?” I snap. “I had people coming to view the house; my sister is going to kill me.”
Holding Hooper’s front legs in his hands, he lowers him to the floor and stands up, straightening the creases from his white shorts. “Here, this might explain.”
He steps towards me, and I move away.
“I don’t bite,” he tells me, holding out an envelope, which tentatively I take from his hand.
“I’m Chase.” He bows. “There, introductions over.”
I roll my eyes. Sarcastic git . He’s a fair bit taller than me, and his skin is red and blotchy. His freckles seem to merge together on his wide cheeks.
I open my mouth to respond. “I’m…”
He holds up his forefinger and wags it.
“You don’t need to tell me your name, I know who you are, and don’t worry about the house viewing you had at three o’clock; that was me.”
I scratch my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Open the letter, then you will.”
I slit the seal with my finger, pull out the note and read: ‘If flowers can’t buy my lady maybe a house can. Compliments of Snow’.
I feel sick. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, Darcy, this is no joke. The offer’s been made and accepted.”
I throw the letter across the floor.
“I don’t believe a word of it.”
He laughs, showing his teeth.
“Well, I can assure you it’s all kosher.”
“If that’s the case, where is he?”
I turn, expecting Snow to appear round the door, walk in or gaze through a window.
“I wouldn’t bother if I were you, he’s in Mexico on business. I’m his personal assistant; a better word for it is his bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“He clicks his fingers, I jump. Joking apart, he’s a sound guy.”
I’m lost for words, and for a moment it appears he is too.
“I’m not being funny.” His face straightens. “I’m jet lagged after a ten-hour flight, and starving. Have you got any food in this place? I’ve raided the fridge and enjoyed the chicken, but there wasn’t much else.”
I struggle to keep my face straight; the chicken was Hooper’s dinner and about a week old.
“I’ve ordered the shopping online, but it isn’t being delivered till tomorrow. I can order a takeaway if you like?” What am I saying? Why am I being so nice, making him feel at home? To hell with this.
I open my mouth, about to tell him to get out.
“That’s very kind, thank you so much.”
I glance towards Hooper, who’s lying stretched out with his head buried between his front paws. I think of Sam, and consider this the perfect excuse to get rid of him later.
“You must be gone for six.”
“Seriously? I’ve flown over here to deliver the good news in person, and I’m knackered and hungry. All I’m asking is to have something to eat and the couch to kip on for a night or two. Is that really too much to ask?”
“Well yes, it is really. I don’t normally invite strange men into my house.”
“You didn’t invite me,” he said with a smirk.
I bite down on my lip, quashing a smile, then turn and rip the pizza flyer from the pin-board next to the fridge.
“I’ll think about it,” I mumble, tossing the laminated menu his way and then leaning back against the work surface,
“Do you work at the florist?” I quiz, to which he shakes his head. “An explanation would be nice.”
His white teeth glisten as he smiles.
My eyes narrow. “No, actually forget it, I’m ringing the police.”
I turn my back on him.
“Snow sent me.” His words stop me dead.
I turn back and again I ask him, “How did you get in?”
“The front of the porch, the red gnome holding the fishing rod.”
“Rodney?” That’s a family secret; nobody knows the way his head screws off.
He chuckles. “Nice! Do you name all your ornaments?”
I frown, not entertaining his humour.
“God, lighten up, will ya? Snow told me where the key was kept.” His voice has suddenly lost its jovial edge.
“How long have you been here?” I snap. “I had people coming to view the house; my sister is going to kill me.”
Holding Hooper’s front legs in his hands, he lowers him to the floor and stands up, straightening the creases from his white shorts. “Here, this might explain.”
He steps towards me, and I move away.
“I don’t bite,” he tells me, holding out an envelope, which tentatively I take from his hand.
“I’m Chase.” He bows. “There, introductions over.”
I roll my eyes. Sarcastic git . He’s a fair bit taller than me, and his skin is red and blotchy. His freckles seem to merge together on his wide cheeks.
I open my mouth to respond. “I’m…”
He holds up his forefinger and wags it.
“You don’t need to tell me your name, I know who you are, and don’t worry about the house viewing you had at three o’clock; that was me.”
I scratch my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Open the letter, then you will.”
I slit the seal with my finger, pull out the note and read: ‘If flowers can’t buy my lady maybe a house can. Compliments of Snow’.
I feel sick. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, Darcy, this is no joke. The offer’s been made and accepted.”
I throw the letter across the floor.
“I don’t believe a word of it.”
He laughs, showing his teeth.
“Well, I can assure you it’s all kosher.”
“If that’s the case, where is he?”
I turn, expecting Snow to appear round the door, walk in or gaze through a window.
“I wouldn’t bother if I were you, he’s in Mexico on business. I’m his personal assistant; a better word for it is his bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“He clicks his fingers, I jump. Joking apart, he’s a sound guy.”
I’m lost for words, and for a moment it appears he is too.
“I’m not being funny.” His face straightens. “I’m jet lagged after a ten-hour flight, and starving. Have you got any food in this place? I’ve raided the fridge and enjoyed the chicken, but there wasn’t much else.”
I struggle to keep my face straight; the chicken was Hooper’s dinner and about a week old.
“I’ve ordered the shopping online, but it isn’t being delivered till tomorrow. I can order a takeaway if you like?” What am I saying? Why am I being so nice, making him feel at home? To hell with this.
I open my mouth, about to tell him to get out.
“That’s very kind, thank you so much.”
I glance towards Hooper, who’s lying stretched out with his head buried between his front paws. I think of Sam, and consider this the perfect excuse to get rid of him later.
“You must be gone for six.”
“Seriously? I’ve flown over here to deliver the good news in person, and I’m knackered and hungry. All I’m asking is to have something to eat and the couch to kip on for a night or two. Is that really too much to ask?”
“Well yes, it is really. I don’t normally invite strange men into my house.”
“You didn’t invite me,” he said with a smirk.
I bite down on my lip, quashing a smile, then turn and rip the pizza flyer from the pin-board next to the fridge.
“I’ll think about it,” I mumble, tossing the laminated menu his way and then leaning back against the work surface,
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