Where Loyalty Lies by Hannah Valentine

as well.” He bared his teeth at me again and I suddenly realised that he was smiling. Now I knew why he never smiled; he looked like the Cheshire cat with its leg caught in a bear trap.
    “Thank you,” I said, genuinely pleased despite the creepy smile. “How much do I owe you?”
    “No charge. Let’s just call it necessary building maintenance.”
    “What?” He wasn’t known for his generosity. “You’re not going to charge me?”
    He shook his head.
    I narrowed my eyes. “Can I put a wreath on my door at Christmas?”
    A squeak actually escaped Mr Jackson’s mouth and a flash of anger crossed his face before the creepy face was back, except now it resembled more of a grimace.
    “Of course,” he managed to grind out.
    Now I knew something was wrong. Last year we’d had more arguments than I could count over the fact that he wouldn’t let me put up a wreath. I was just about to ask what the hell was going on when a thought clicked into place.
    Two people today had come to me with apologies and gifts. I’d had problems with them both ever since I’d moved in and then suddenly, on the same day, they both just happened to see the error of their ways? I didn’t think so. I studied Mr Jackson a little more closely; he was just as jittery as Ben had been, clearly hating every second of this but doing it anyway.
    “Have you, by any chance, met my new friend? About six feet tall, brown hair, in his thirties, very handsome?” I asked.
    Mr Jackson visibly flinched. “Yes, you can tell him that I did what he said and that I have unpickable locks on my own door too, so if he has any more complaints he’ll have to knock.” With that he scuttled off down the stairs.
    “Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered to myself as I finished the climb. It seemed like I’d just found myself my very own, rather scary fairy godmother.
    As I shut the door to my flat and slid the bolt across, I couldn’t help but grin and it stayed pasted on my face until I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep in seconds.

Chapter 6
    It took everything I had not to tap my fingers nervously as I waited for Holt to arrive. When I’d left for my shift at the pub yesterday, the sight of the brand new bolt on my door had been enough to make me call Holt and ask if he could come and answer more questions I had.
    Being my day off from the café, it had meant that I could lie in until ten and still have a couple of hours to clean like mad before Holt arrived. It wasn’t that my place was particularly messy, but I was nervous. I felt the way people must feel when their parents are coming to visit. So I’d cleaned and tidied and then realised that he’d only seen my home two days ago and so he’d realise if it was suddenly spotlessly clean. Sadly, I’d then spent several minutes making the place look slightly less tidy by leaving a book on the coffee table, a mug on the side in the kitchen and a jumper over the back of the armchair. Then I’d sat down and tried to convince myself that this behaviour was completely normal for someone in my situation.
    Holt arrived spot on one o’clock, just as we’d arranged. He again looked exquisite, this time wearing a brown leather jacket over a white shirt. I had to admit that I was impressed by his gentlemanly manners of holding doors, umbrellas and being punctual. It didn’t escape my notice that he had a subtle check of the locks on the door when he thought I wasn’t looking.
    He followed me into the living room. I wasn’t sure if I should offer to take his jacket and, before I could make a decision, he’d taken it off and draped it over his lap as he sat on the sofa. I sat on the armchair opposite him.
    “How are you?” Holt asked.
    “I’m good, very good actually,” I said, studying Holt’s expression.
    “Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Holt replied.
    “In fact yesterday was a very productive day for me,” I continued.
    “Really?” Holt’s expression didn’t change.
    “Yes. Not only