Free Meet Me Under the Mistletoe by Abby Clements Page B

Rachel’s hand and pointing to a mangy-looking specimen with a straggly tail who was sniffing around in a KFC wrapper just a few metres away.
    The street wasn’t quite what Rachel had imagined. She double-checked the address in her phone, Windermere Road – yes, this was it. But this place didn’t seem very Laurie at all. It was an avenue of tall Victorian terraced houses, leafless, knobbled plane trees lined each side of the road and bin bags and recycling boxes overflowed on to the pavement. The houses were grand, but shabby, and cast in shade.
    Rachel took a deep breath, then they all continued walking. Milly called out the house numbers as they went: ‘thirty-three, thirty-one … Zak, check out all those bikes,’ Milly said suddenly, giving her little brother a nudge as they passed a house with a handwritten chalkboard sign propped up outside it. Reggae boomed from a speaker by the open door. ‘Bill the Bikeman. All Repairs’, the sign read. A man with greying dreadlocks and a knitted rasta hat was kneeling down at the doorstep fixing a bicycle chain while customers waited on the pavement – a teenager with a battered BMX and a woman in a suit with her fold-away Brompton. Other bikes, old and rusty next to shiny and new, filled the front yard. ‘Cool,’ Zak said, staring over at Bill as he spun bike wheels. ‘Hi, there,’ Bill called out, with a nod.
    Rachel smiled in reply, and checked Bill’s door number, then looked over at the block next to it. Twenty-three – OK, there it was. They had arrived. The building, like all the others on the street, seemed to loom over them. She led Zak and Milly to the intercom and ran her finger over the numbers. She buzzed Laurie’s neighbour in Flat 6.
    ‘Hi.’ A friendly male voice came from the speaker.
    ‘Hi,’ Rachel said back. ‘Is that Jay? It’s Rachel, Laurie’s friend …’
    ‘Rachel, hi,’ the voice said, ‘come up, I’m on the second floor.’ Rachel waited for the buzz, then pushed open the heavy front door. Zak hopskotched across the black and white tiles of the wide hallway, quickly making his way towards the stairs, his steps echoing. They went up the first flight of stairs together and when they all reached the second floor, the door to Jay’s flat was open. A tall, dark-haired man with a welcoming smile stepped forward and offered Rachel his hand to shake.
    ‘Hi, I’m Jay,’ he said, with the faintest trace of a London accent. His deep-brown eyes met Rachel’s.
    As she smiled and shook his hand, Rachel felt acutely aware of her crumpled clothes and wind-whipped hair. Laurie’s brief description of her neighbour had missed out a few key details – tall, with warm brown skin and an easy manner, Jay was distractingly attractive. Rachel realised she was still gazing at him, and brought herself back to reality sharply. ‘And this is Milly,’ she said, smiling and flustered, ‘and Zak.’ She put a hand on each of her children’s arms. They said hello dutifully. Rachel noticed that her daughter was quieter than usual.
    ‘Hi. And these, I believe, are now yours,’ Jay said, handing over a jangling set of keys. Rachel took hold of them gratefully. ‘Welcome to Goldhawk Mansions,’ Jay said. ‘Not quite as grand as the name suggests, as you probably noticed,’ he laughed.
    ‘No,’ Rachel said in a hurry, concerned that her doubts might somehow be written all over her face, ‘I mean no, not at all, I don’t really know London well – but this building seems nice.’
    ‘I think it’s cool,’ Milly said, quietly.
    ‘Why, thank you,’ Jay said, giving Milly a wink. ‘Enjoy your stay. Sorry I can’t stop to chat, but I have to head out to rehearsals in a minute.’ He grabbed his guitar case and bag from inside the flat. ‘But if you need anything while you’re here just give me a shout.’
    Rachel nodded dumbly. ‘Thanks,’ she said. She led her children up the final flight of stairs to the top.
    ‘Mum,’ Milly said as