The Vintage Cinema Club. Jane Linfoot

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      Izzy plunged down behind the counter.

      ‘Hide if you like, but I’m going to see what’s going on.’

      Luce might look waif-like, but once she decided something, there was little point in arguing.

      Izzy, crouched on the floor, grabbed a strawberry Hubba Bubba from her pocket. Whenever the going got tough, it always helped if she chewed. She began to rearrange the boxes on the shelves under the counter. Now she came to look, there was enough chaos to keep her down here for most of the afternoon. That sounded like half a hot man avoidance plan, but with Luce racing around the store in trouble shooter mode, there was no knowing what might happen. Izzy might be better to make a run for it. Through the slice of space between the counter side, and Luce’s rail of dresses, Izzy had a view straight through the shop doorway, to where Chou-fleur was parked, out on the road. She was just contemplating a dash for safety, when Luce’s yell echoed across the shop.

      ‘Izzy!’

      Shit. What now? Izzy wasn’t sure how Luce balling across the shop fitted in with the improved customer service initiative. Izzy didn’t move. Sometimes if you stayed completely still, whatever you didn’t want to face would go away.

      ‘Izzy…’ Luce was definitely persistent. It just goes to show that the quiet ones were always the ones you needed to watch out for.

      Hunched down, in the shadows under the counter, it reminded Izzy of how she used to hide under her bed and freeze when she was younger, and hope the shouting would stop when her parents were having their worst slanging matches, in the last few weeks when their mum had decided she wanted out, and family life had imploded.

      ‘Izzy…Where are you?’ Luce’s voice was nearer now. Definitely not giving up then.

      Izzy looked up to see Luce’s face peering at her over the edge of the counter.

      ‘There you are.’ Luce shook her head, and gave Izzy a scolding scowl. ‘Can you come over here right now please, because Xander’s interested in buying your bed.’

      So it was Xander now. Xander somehow sounded a suitably arrogant enough name for him. As for Luce, she certainly didn’t hang about, getting to know people.

      To Izzy’s horror, a second later there was a blur of choppy brown hair, and then the face of a horribly familiar guy was staring down at her too.

      Skip guy? Pink house guy? Hot guy? Or how about none of the above, because this was the original Mr Smoulder, and he appeared to be getting a view right up her dress, yet again.

      Izzy grabbed at the folds of her skirt, scrabbling to pull it down. Somehow her footless tights offered very little cover at all the way she was sitting.

      ‘Xander, this is Izzy, she’s busy doing a spot of undercover tidying.’ Luce beamed down at Izzy. ‘I think you two already met.’

      Izzy chomped furiously to steady her nerves. Nerves? That would include heart leap frogging out of her chest, too.

      ‘I think we have.’ Xander was talking in his best, husky, spine shivering drawl, and gazing down at her. He cocked one superior eyebrow at Izzy, from on high. ‘So hello Izzy, or rather, hello, again. Can I smell bubble gum?’

      Bubble gum? Cheeky sod. As for her meeting him scrunched up on the floor, talk about setting off at a disadvantage. Again. Izzy gathered her legs together, and she pushed herself to her feet, but even when she pulled herself up to her full five foot three, and took a deep, deep breath, somehow both Luce and Xander still seemed to tower over her.

      ‘Right. Interested in a bed? Which bed would that be?’ And dammit that Izzy had just given a defiant flounce of her skirt. She really didn’t want to come across as pouty and head tossing and petulant, but something about this guy made her horribly fighty.

      Luce butted in. ‘Xander’s shopping with a stack of interior magazine pictures on his phone showing exactly what he’s wanting, and the bed in your room at home is just what he’s looking for. And technically it is for sale, isn’t it Izzy, even if you’re using it right now? It’s the least we can do, given the amount of things Xander needs to buy.’

      Luce gave Izzy a fierce “don’t you dare refuse, think of the sales” glare, then turned to Xander with one of her more melting smiles. ‘We always like to go that extra yard for our customers.’

      Izzy’s heart sank. She wasn’t sure about extra yards, this felt like an extra mile at least, and definitely a mile too far.

      But Luce was on a roll here. ‘Fine, that’s organised then, I’ll cover for you here Izzy, whist you whizz Xander round to yours, so he can check it out.’

      Izzy gave a groan. ‘Fine. Looks like we’re going then.’

      Not what she wanted, not what she’d planned. But the faster she did it, the sooner it would be over, and, as Luce knew, Izzy could do with turning the bed into cash. She only had it at home because it had been on display for ages and hadn’t sold.

      As for Xander, the name sounded pretentious enough for the guy. Xander. Still unsmiling. Still unavailable. Still drop dead…

      Whatever.

      At least that got the introductions out of the way.

       17

      Monday Afternoon, 9th June

      XANDER & IZZY

      In his car

       The only way is up

      ‘Take a right, then a left, then it’s as far up the hill as you can go.’

      Xander watched Izzy out of the corner of his eye, waving her hands, as she rattled off the directions. Izzy was a name that kind of suited her. Small, dizzy, unpredictable, prone to explosions…And here she was filling yet another of his cars with the smell of sticky candy, except this time she was jammed up against him, in his dad’s ancient Aston Martin, as they made their way up an impossibly steep road, towards high altitude Matlock. Come to think of it, today the bubblegum was overlaid with a very different scent that was somehow making him want to inhale incredibly deeply. Something sweeter than sugar, more like burning roses.

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