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cardigan, stuck her feet back into her slippers,
and shuffled in the direction of the bathroom. ‘I’m going to brush my teeth and
head off to bed, Clem. See you tomorrow.’
       ‘Yeah,
see you.’
       Florrie
grinned back at her, clearly noting her sister’s preoccupied tone. ‘Sweet
dreams!’
       Alone
on the comfortable sofa, Clementine stretched out, closed her eyes in the
silence, and relived that burst of unexpected physical and emotional excitement
when she had turned her head and their lips had met for a fraction of a second.
       POW!
       It
was laughable really, she told herself sternly. One delicious dinner, the company
of a charming Frenchman, that tantalisingly brief kiss on the lips … and she
was falling in love.
       There
had to be a catch.

 
    There were still no chocolates in display
in the shop window after the weekend. Clementine paused, perusing the empty
front and shelves, and wondering if her advice on Dominic’s accounts had been
less useful than she had hoped. She glanced at her phone for the time; she did
not want to be late for work again. But then, peering in, she caught movement
towards the rear of the shop, and tapped on the glass on impulse.
       Dominic
came to unlock the door a moment later. He was in faded jeans again, and his
hair was dishevelled as though he had been running a frustrated hand through
it.
       ‘Bad
time?’ she asked, not wanting to appear pushy.
       He
looked at her searchingly, then shook his head. ‘Clementine,’ he said deeply,
his French accent catching at her soul, and waved her inside. ‘S’il-te-plaît.’
       The
lost cat was there again, asleep on the empty glass counter, curled in a perfect
white circle. She raised a drowsy head as Clementine stopped to pet her.
       ‘I
couldn’t stop thinking about this gorgeous creature all weekend. I wonder what
her name is.’ She stroked behind the cat’s ears, and the Persian purred
violently, stretching out a lazy white paw. ‘And who she belongs to. What a
pity there’s no collar ID.’
       ‘I
forgot she was there. I’m not allowed to keep an animal in the shop,’ he
murmured, looking at the cat with regret in his face. ‘We’re a food retailer.’
       ‘When
you’re actually open.’
       His
mouth twisted at her reminder. ‘Ah, oui. I suppose it’s not a serious issue
when the shop is not in business. But I should still put her outside, I’m
afraid. I could be fined if she’s found in the shop itself.’
       ‘She’s
such a beauty though, and very well cared-for. Someone out there must be going
frantic, hunting for her.’
       ‘I
agree,’ he said quietly, stroking the cat under her soft chin. ‘Which is why I
took her to the nearest vet this morning. She has no microchip fitted, and
she’s not on their books. No one appears to have reported her missing either.
It’s a mystery.’
       Clementine
stared, impressed by his thoughtfulness. ‘What a good idea, I would never have
thought of doing that. But they couldn’t help find her owner?’
       ‘I
could have handed her in at the cat shelter, but they’re obviously
over-stretched. I rang, and the place was full. The nearest alternative is
several miles away. So I offered to keep her here until they have a free place.
They’ve given me some numbers to call in the meantime. Other local vets, pet
sanctuaries, the local radio station.'
       'But
frankly,’ Dominic spread his hands, looking about the shop with a distracted
air, ‘I haven’t had time yet. I’m still trying to decide whether to give up the
shop and go back to France, or see if I can persuade the bank to extend my
loan.’
       ‘Give
the phone numbers to me,’ she told him promptly. ‘I’ll call them during my
lunch break. I don’t mind helping out.’
       ‘But
– ’
       ‘It’s
my fault, Dominic.’ She held out her hand for the numbers when he hesitated.
‘She would never have came into the shop in the first place