Mistletoe in the Mortuary (Inspector Rames)

Chapter 9

Cassia was the final staff member to leave the mortuary. She hung around until Sebastian sent her a message to say he was outside, and then she made her way to the entrance. A few of them had shirked their paperwork this afternoon to decorate the basement, herself included, and now cotton wool and knitted snowmen were scattered across their desks. Tinsel was hanging in the corridors, and the scent of cinnamon was fighting with the stink of death.

And there was mistletoe over the entrance.

Sebastian was leaning against the wall beside it, his collar turned up. He was becoming such a familiar sight that she would have relaxed if not for the decoration. She looked between it and him. He watched her gaze. The atmosphere tingled between them.

"Hello," she said.

He stood under the mistletoe.

She went to him, and when he kissed her, she felt drunk with it. The world span and faded.

It was the best way she'd ever been greeted.

They left the mortuary, the door locking automatically behind them, and climbed up to the ground floor. When they reached the driveway, they stepped into darkness. A cold wind dug Cassia in the ribs, and she huddled into her coat.

"Before we go to my flat," she said tentatively, "we should probably go shopping."

"Shopping?"

"You've hardly got a thing to eat."

He turned his head away, the faintest blush rising to his cheeks. "Cooking isn't my forte. I usually order takeaways."

"Not anymore. I'll cook."

They squashed onto the fourth tram they found and rode it to the high street. When they hopped off again, they bought ingredients. Cassia had always cooked for Miles, and she'd never stopped making proper meals after the divorce. She bought double everything she usually needed, then splashed out on basic ingredients for baking. Sebastian insisted on paying at least half of the cost for the whole haul. In the end, she agreed, because she realised he'd probably eat a good portion of all the puddings she made.

They'd bought so much that they had to dump it all in his flat before they went to hers. Once she'd thrown what she needed into a couple of bags and they'd returned, it was almost eight and she was starving. She dropped her luggage in the spare bedroom and then entered the kitchen to start dinner.

Sebastian was waiting for her, standing beside the glowing oven. "I'm preheating it, but I don't know what temperature you need it on."

She glanced at the oven. "That's fine. Does this mean you're helping me?"

"As long as it isn't too difficult."

"Don't worry -- consommé is easy." She laughed as his eyebrows rose. "I'm joking. We'll just make pizzas."

"I don't even know what consommé is."

"A notoriously difficult dish."

"And I thought pizzas sounded hard." He smiled, but his eyes held apprehension. "What do you want me to do?"

They worked together slowly, Cassia instructing him. They made the base and the tomato sauce from scratch before adding the cheese and toppings. His main job was to prepare the ingredients while she did most of the hard work, and her muscles unwound as she kneaded dough.

When the pizzas were in the oven, they set two places at the dining table, opposite each other and furthest away from the door. There was another window in the dining room, offering a smaller picture of the city's bright lights. Cassia drifted closer and looked out.