All I Want Series Boxset, Books 1-3: All I Want for Christmas, All I Want for Valentine's, All I Want for Spring (23 page)

“It’ll test your stealth powers,” she replied, nibbling my earlobe.

“Anyway,” I said, standing up and brushing Holly off. “Your presents. Here’s what I bought in Selfridges that day.” I put the present in her hands.

Holly ripped it open and gave me a broad smile when she uncovered her new bag. “Just what I wanted. How did you know?”

I laughed. “I’ve no idea, apart from all those hints you kept dropping.”

She reached out and grabbed my hand. “I love it, it’s so soft.” She stroked the leather. “Nearly as soft as your bum.”

“That’s the criteria I gave to the salesperson, so I’m glad you think so.”

Then I leaned down with the jewellery box in my hand. “And this is for your birthday. I was going to drive over to yours tomorrow and surprise you, but no need for that now.” I was inches from her face, looking into her deep green eyes. “Happy birthday.” I kissed her and waited for her to open the gift.

This time, she was slow and considered, carefully undoing the Sellotape and then opening the box. When she saw the silver key necklace, she drew in a huge breath. Then she looked up at me, an epic smile splitting her face.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “Thank you.” She put the necklace on straight away, then stood up and pressed her lips to mine. It was a wordless kiss, but it communicated the promise of so much more.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I said. “And can I say, I’m so glad you’re my Christmas girlfriend.”

Holly smiled. “You do know that a girlfriend is for life though, right? Not just for Christmas? You can’t leave me on the street in a month when you get bored of me.”

“You better find a way to keep me interested then.”

“I’ve got some ideas,” she said, raising one eyebrow before pressing her hand between my legs.

I jolted in surprise.

“Girls, are you coming down?”

We both jolted this time. It was my mum, shouting up the stairs.

I rolled my eyes. “Be there in a minute!” I shouted. “And why does being in my room make me feel like we’re 15 again? Tonight is going to be very weird.”

“I can do weird too, if you want,” Holly said, laughing.

I pulled her out on to the landing and she followed me down the stairs. I’d had a cheesy grin on my face most of the day and it was still there because today had been perfect, a Christmas surrounded by everyone I really loved. As we walked down the stairs, I could see flakes of snow falling outside the window.

“It’s snowing!” I shrieked, rushing to the door and flinging it open. “It’s snowing!” I repeated over my shoulder to Holly.

She walked up behind me, peered outside and then shut the door. “Yes, and it’s freezing,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the lounge. 

We pushed open the door to be greeted by Mum, Gran and Ellen letting off party poppers, and standing in front of them was Gina. She was holding a chocolate sponge birthday cake for Holly, lit with 28 candles. They began a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ and Holly looked bashful, all 6-foot-2 of her. When the song was done, she blew out the candles and we all clapped.

“Speech!” Gran said, wolf-whistling through her teeth.

Holly gave me an alarmed look.

“What?” I asked. “Whistling is one of Gran’s super-powers.”

“Very handy in a street fight too,” Gran added helpfully.

Holly let out a nervous laugh.

“If you’re not going to do a speech, I hope you at least made a wish before blowing out all of those candles,” Gran continued.

“I hope you did too, love,” Gina said, smiling at her daughter.

Holly’s gaze, however, wasn’t on Gran or her mum, but rather it was focused on me. She walked over to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

“So did you make a wish?” I asked.

Holly shook her head, before putting her mouth to my ear. “No need, they already came true.”

I spluttered before looking up at her. “What did I say about you and your sweet talk?”

“That I’m the best at it?” she asked.

“You’re a world beater,” I replied.

THE END

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ALL I WANT FOR VALENTINE’S: BOOK TWO

CHAPTER 1

January: Week One

Tori tilted her head to the left, then to the right. It didn’t look good whichever way she turned.

“Holly,” she said. Her voice was shaky, brittle to the touch. It stuck in her throat and vibrated as she spoke. Behind her, she heard Holly’s shoes squeak on the laminate floor as she turned.

“Hmmm?”

“Can you come and look at this?”

Holly was frowning, Tori could just tell.

“You okay?” Holly asked.

“Er, no.” Tori swallowed and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, nothing had changed. Britney and Madonna were still floating lifelessly, the waterwheel in their ample tank still turning as if nothing had happened.

A wave of nausea washed over Tori, quickly followed by a swell of dread. “I think they’re dead,” she said, her voice hamstrung with guilt. She knew the signs, remembered from her own short-lived forays into the world of small-fish ownership.

They were probably putting up warning posters all around town now: “Lock up your goldfish — the grim reaper is back!” How was she going to explain this to her neighbours when they returned from their weekend in Lisbon?

“Dear Matt & Kim, Hope you had a good weekend away! Oh, and by the way, I killed your fish. Soz.”

“Dead?” Holly was beside Tori now, peering down into the tank. “Oh shit, they are too.” She drew in a colossal breath, before running a hand through her short black hair. “How can they be dead? We fed them last night, did everything they told us to do.” Holly paused. “Bugger.”

The pair stood over the tank, staring at the dead fish, willing them back to life. It didn’t work.

It was only January 1st and Tori had already managed to kill two living creatures. This did not bode well for the coming new year.

“What am I going to tell them? We’ve only known them for three weeks and I’ve bumped off their pets.” Tori put her head in her hands, before straightening up. “Unless…” she said, pointing at Holly. “Do you think we could get replacements? Go to the pet store down the road? They need never know anything has happened.” She raised an eyebrow. “It could work.” There was a note of desperation in her tone.

Holly bent down to get a closer look at the fish. “We could try, I suppose,” she said. “Trouble is, they’re not very orange, are they?”

Tori bent down so that her head was beside her girlfriend’s. “You’re right. When did goldfish become non-orange?”

“Maybe these ones aren’t from Essex. Maybe they’re hipster goldfish.”

Tori’s nausea rose again, but that might have something to do with all the rum she’d consumed last night at the New Year’s Eve party, as well as her current predicament. Today had been scheduled for lying on the sofa and dying quietly (her, not the goldfish). She could really do without this balls-up.

“Do you think they’re really expensive, exotic goldfish? Ones you can’t even get around here? Have we killed goldfish royalty?” Tori couldn’t bear to look anymore, instead walking over to her neighbours’ couch and sitting down, shaking her head. “I can’t even feed goldfish for two days without killing them. I’m a liability. I should come with a health warning.”

Holly sat down beside her, smiling a sympathetic smile and put an arm around Tori, kissing the top of her maple brown hair.

Tori was immediately soothed.

“Babe, you’re not the grim reaper, goldfish die every day — they’re pretty skilled at it. When I was a kid, I remember winning three at the fair and they were all dead within a week.”

Tori’s eyes widened. “Maybe it’s you,” she said, jabbing a finger into Holly’s arm. “Maybe you’re the reason the goldfish are dead.”

Holly held up both hands, laughing. “You can absolutely blame me if you like.” She kissed Tori on the cheek, then settled back against the sofa.

They were both silent for a moment as they stared into the space straight ahead, which held a shelf of boardgames including Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit.

Tori hated boardgames — she made a mental note never to accept an invitation here. Not that it was likely to happen now.

“But whoever we blame, it doesn’t take away from the fact the goldfish are dead, does it?”

Tori shook her head. “Nope.” She paused. “We’ve got two options as far as I see it.”

Holly turned her head, sitting up. “They are?”

Tori held out a finger. “Option one: we tell the truth.”

Holly frowned. “And option two?”

Tori held up another finger. “Option two is we see if we can find replacements.”

Holly chewed the inside of her cheek. “But what about option three?”

“There’s an option three?”

Holly nodded. “Absolutely. Option three is we barricade ourselves in and never answer our door or leave the flat again. Either that, or we flee the country and hope the authorities don’t track us down and charge us with murder.”

“I like option three. Let’s go with that one.”

Holly stood up and offered Tori her hand.

Tori accepted and hauled herself upright with a grunt. Her head was banging and she desperately needed some painkillers.

“Do we just leave the fish like this?” Tori asked, walking back to the tank and peering glumly downwards.

“Unless you want to scoop them out, pat them dry and leave them on the side for Matt and Kim, we don’t have a lot of other choice.” Holly took Tori’s hand and pulled her towards the front door of their neighbours’ flat. “Let’s go home and think about it for a bit — we’ve got 24 hours to decide. Shall we go to the pub for lunch?”

Tori sighed, then nodded. “That’s the best idea so far today, after me taking some headache pills.”

CHAPTER 2

The next day, Tori was a portrait of contriteness on her neighbours’ doorstep, but they took the news surprisingly well. In fact, Matt even told her that the fish were their second set since moving into the flat, and that the first pair had died for no apparent reason, too.

Tori slunk home a stone lighter, the tag of murderer stripped from her. Maybe she could be trusted with pets after all. Maybe she and Holly should get one, just to prove she could be left in charge of another living being.

Holly was laid out on their L-shaped couch watching a cookery show when Tori got back. On the TV, a chef with a deeply furrowed brow was barking orders at a kitchen full of startled people, before enormous pats of butter were slapped into pans and the cooking commenced. These shows cemented Tori’s fear of cooking, but Holly loved them.