Bound by Ivy by S. Quinn Page B

‘You’re a very clever man, Mr Blackwell. Had you ever thought of becoming a teacher?’
    ‘The thought crossed my mind.’ Marc steers me through pretty wooden stands with colourful striped awnings, and we stop in front of a butcher’s stall laden with giant corn-fed turkeys, aged joints of beef and bright pink hams.
    ‘Had you picked out your meat yet?’
    ‘There’s a turkey I took out of dad’s freezer earlier,’ I say. ‘I bought it on special a few months ago. I was going to use that. But ... this meat looks amazing.’
    Marc points at a sign above the stand. ‘I hadn’t forgotten the foie gras incident. Cruelty free. These animals have been well looked after.’
    I smile, noticing the free-range sign. ‘Yo u remembered.’
    ‘How could I forget? I wouldn’t want to buy you a roasting joint that ends up in the trash.’
    I laugh.
    ‘Choose whatever you like,’ Marc says.
    I blink at the choice of beautiful birds and roasting joints. ‘Wow. I’ve never seen meat that looks so good. Those birds ... they’re just huge. I don’t think I’d be able to get them in the oven. But ...’ I point at a giant turkey that’s only medium-sized by the standards of this stall. ‘That one looks like it would fit. I bet it will taste delicious, too.’
    Ma rc gets the butcher’s attention and nods at my choice. ‘Bag this one for us, please. Thank you.’
    He hands some notes to the butcher and takes the turkey under his arm, wrapped in white paper and string.
    ‘ What does your father like to eat?’ Marc asks.
    ‘ Anything that’s bad for him. And sweet things – he likes his desserts.’
    ‘So we’ll buy him a Christmas pudding. They’re very good here.’
    ‘Great idea.’

26
    We buy Dad a huge Christmas pudding laced with brandy, stout and golden syrup. It’s wrapped in muslin and almost as big as Sammy.
    Marc also orders a box of organic vegetables to be delivered to the cottage today, and a whole host of biscuits, cheese, champagne and chocolates.
    ‘Peter was saying you don’t like Christmas,’ I challenge, a teasing look in my eye. ‘What’s the turnaround?’
    ‘The turnaround is you. Anything you love, I’m going to make my business to love too.’
    ‘Oh really?’
    ‘Really. So what else do you love, Miss Rose?’
    ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ I say, staring up into his blue eyes. They’re clear and light with the cold today.
    Marc holds my eyes for a moment and strokes hair from my face.
    I spy something over his shoulder.
    ‘Mistletoe.’ I pull him towards a stand of beautiful silvery green plants.
    ‘You like mistletoe? ’ says Marc, with a smile. ‘I might have guessed.’
    ‘ I think it’s one of the most beautiful plants ever,’ I say. ‘And very romantic.’
    ‘I take it you’ve been kissed under the mistletoe before?’ says Marc, raising an eyebrow.
    ‘Once or t wice.’ I blush.
    Marc bends down to press his lips against mine. For a moment the cold marketplace vanishes and all I can see and feel is him. When he pulls away, I’m disorientated and it takes a moment for the shapes of market stalls to reappear.
    ‘But not like that ,’ I breathe.
    ‘I should hope so.’
    I twiddle my hair. ‘You’re going to make it your business to love anything I love?’
    ‘Correct.’
    ‘And what about like? Will you like everything I like?’
    ‘Perhaps. What did you have in mind?’
    ‘Leo Falkirk.’
    The smile leaves Marc’s face. ‘I suppose miracles can happen.’
    ‘I wish the two of you could get along.’
    Marc gives a little lau gh. ‘He’s got a lot of growing up to do before that will happen.’
    *****
    After we drop the shopping off in the limo, Marc takes me to Fortnum and Mason – the giant and very expensive department store on Piccadilly.
    The whole place is decorated with clear glass baubles hanging from lilac ribbons. The store smells amazing – like apples and lemons, and some exotic spicy perfume.
    ‘I thought this might be a good place to