LITMIR.BIZ

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coming up the back stairs to her flat and felt even more irritated by the loose mouse. In a few moments, Charlie was at her door.

      ‘What are you doing?’ Charlie’s voice was laced with amusement as it wafted from the open door of the flat.

      ‘Close the door, quickly!’ Holly hissed from over by the sofa, from which she’d removed the colourful throws so that she could see underneath it. She was holding the dustpan from the shop and was peering under the sofa, watching intently.

      Doing as he was told, Charlie pushed the door shut and padded over to the sofa.

      ‘Can I help?’ he asked. ‘Are you looking for something?’

      ‘Arthur brought in a mouse just now,’ Holly muttered. ‘And, being the considerate soul that he is, he decided to show it to me before he polished it off, but because he’s so old, and his teeth are a bit crap, he dropped it and it escaped before he could catch it again. And I’ve cornered it to this part of the room, but the last thing I want is to let it loose downstairs – there’s too much for it to feast on down there.’

      ‘I’m sure I’ve got a spare mousetrap at home,’ Charlie offered. ‘The town house was riddled with the buggers when I moved in, but a colleague suggested peanut butter in a trap; worked every time.’

      ‘No way,’ Holly snapped. ‘It’s one thing Arthur bringing them in for his dinner, but I don’t want to kill it unnecessarily if I can help it. Arthur’s curled up on my bed, asleep, of course.’

      ‘Shall I go and get him?’ Charlie asked, feeling at a bit of a loss.

      ‘No point,’ Holly sighed. ‘He’d just look at you like you’re mad. Bloody cats!’

      Charlie dropped down to his knees and peered under the sofa. ‘Are you sure it’s under here? I can’t see any— Oh, Christ!’ Grabbing his ankle, he let out a yelp.

      ‘What is it?’ Holly dropped the dustpan and looked up to see Charlie, whose hands had suddenly moved up to the back of his right knee and were gripping on for dear life. ‘Have you got cramp?’

      ‘I think I’ve found your bloody mouse,’ Charlie spoke through gritted teeth.

      Holly glanced down to Charlie’s knee, then she burst out laughing. ‘Are you serious?’ There, below the fabric of Charlie’s suit trousers, was a small, frantically wriggling ball, that was only being prevented from shooting further up Charlie’s trouser leg by his furiously gripping hands.

      ‘Can you stop laughing and help me?’ Charlie’s face was torn between abject terror and ticklish laughter.

      Holly thought, for a moment, how funny but lovely that looked, before common sense returned.

      ‘You’ll have to drop your trousers,’ she said, choking back another gale of laughter. ‘And try not to let the thing get away when you do.’

      ‘Sod it getting away,’ Charlie howled, ‘I need it out of my trouser leg!’ With both hands still clutching either side of the mouse bulge down his leg, Charlie looked helplessly at Holly.

      ‘What?’ she said, still finding it extremely difficult to keep a straight face.

      ‘I can’t move my hands,’ Charlie said, his panic rising. ‘If I do, the bloody thing’s going to shoot straight upwards.’

      ‘And they’ve got seriously sharp teeth,’ Holly said. ‘I remember getting bitten by one when I was a kid. Drew blood and everything.’

      ‘That’s not helpful,’ Charlie winced.

      ‘Sorry,’ Holly smirked, realising exactly now why Charlie didn’t want the mouse travelling any further up his leg. ‘What do you want me to do?’

      ‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’

      Suddenly, Holly twigged. If Charlie couldn’t move his hands, then there was only one thing to do; she’d have to undo his flies. And she had to do it while ignoring the urge to make any jokes about honourable members. ‘Are you serious?’ Laughter won again.

      ‘Just bloody well get on with it, will you,’ Charlie snapped, hands still firmly glued to his knee.

      ‘This is going to be a bit tricky from the position you’re in,’ Holly said, trying her hardest to keep a straight face.

      ‘Hurry up.’

      Kneeling down in front of him, smothering the thought that in another context this would be extremely erotic, Holly found herself nose to groin with Charlie. ‘Are you ready?’

      ‘Yes,’ Charlie hissed. ‘Never more so.’

      Hands trembling slightly, suddenly nervous, Holly reached out and gently unbuckled Charlie’s tan leather belt, before fumbling a little with the button of his trousers. Finally managing to release it, she unzipped his flies, trying not to notice Charlie’s figure-hugging grey boxer shorts, or, to be truthful, to stare at what they contained. From this angle, had she dared to look for longer than a second, the view was very interesting.

      ‘Do you want me to, er, take your trousers down?’ Holly asked, glancing upwards at Charlie. Because he was bent over, his face was quite close to hers, and she felt a stab of sympathy as she realised just how embarrassed he was by this whole situation.

      ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Charlie said stiffly, his face rather flushed.

      ‘OK. Here goes. Try not to let go of the mouse while I do it.’

      ‘Bugger the mouse,’ Charlie muttered, but his hands stayed put either side of it.

      Carefully, mindful of the strange angle and not wanting Charlie to be mortified any more than he was already, Holly eased down Charlie’s trousers until they were around his knees. ‘I think you can let go now,’ she said as they both paused.

      ‘I’m not sure I can,’ Charlie said.

      ‘Of course you can,’ Holly said, stifling the urge to laugh again. Charlie’s constituents would have a field day with this if they ever found out. The MP and the mouse would be a story to dine out on. If she ever went to dinner parties, that was.

      ‘Shit. You’d better undo my shoes, too, before I take off my trousers or it’ll get stuck if it goes down.’

      Holly lost the battle against the giggles this time, but, not daring to look Charlie in the eye, she quickly untied his shoes and helped him to step out of them.

      ‘OK, we’re good,’ she said. ‘If you take your top hand away, I’ll pull your trousers right down and hopefully I’ll be able to catch the little bugger on the way out. Three… two… one…’

      In a split second, Holly found herself crushed under Charlie’s weight as he caught his right foot in the hem of his trousers and fell forward. From the corner of her eye, she saw the small, brown field mouse, the cause of so much aggravation, scuttle out from the top of Charlie’s left trouser leg and dash underneath her sideboard, but what was more pressing was the warm, slightly trembling body that had ended up on top of hers, and the stirring of something even more alive than the mouse inside a certain pair of grey boxer shorts.

      ‘Did you see where it went?’ Holly asked, once she’d tried to draw air back into her slightly winded lungs.

      ‘Not really,’ Charlie murmured from his position on top of her. ‘I was more interested in trying not to crush you to death.’

      ‘I’m not sure if you managed it,’ Holly said, realising that Charlie seemed disinclined to move. Their lips were very close as he hovered above her, and she felt another distinct stirring from where their hips were touching, which turned her insides into fluttering, flapping madness. It was certainly proving even more difficult to breathe.

      ‘Are you OK?’ Charlie said, a husky note in his voice.

      ‘I think so,’ Holly replied. ‘But I think the mouse got away

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