Memory of the last time she’d been trapped under mistletoe came flooding back to her – when the man, the stranger, had been following her, and leant in and snatched a kiss from her as quick and easy as breathing, and left her feeling shaken then – and struck a shiver up Jemima’s spine. She tried to block it out. The greenhouse was warm. This was different.
“Oh, yes, of course,” she said, fumbling over her tongue in a sudden fluster. She would be the saviour this time, and although she didn’t know any spells that worked on enchanted mistletoe, she was confident of her ability to fetch Mr. or Mrs. Potts to the rescue. “I’ll be right –” back, she began with forced brightness, to assure him that he wouldn’t be left alone for long in this scrape; but when she tried to turn on her heel and retrace her steps, she couldn’t peel her heel off the floor.
She tried, and tried again. “Right here,” Jemima said in a small, frustrated voice, trying with all her might not to let the panic rise.
“Oh, yes, of course,” she said, fumbling over her tongue in a sudden fluster. She would be the saviour this time, and although she didn’t know any spells that worked on enchanted mistletoe, she was confident of her ability to fetch Mr. or Mrs. Potts to the rescue. “I’ll be right –” back, she began with forced brightness, to assure him that he wouldn’t be left alone for long in this scrape; but when she tried to turn on her heel and retrace her steps, she couldn’t peel her heel off the floor.
She tried, and tried again. “Right here,” Jemima said in a small, frustrated voice, trying with all her might not to let the panic rise.
