She sidles up next to me and whispers. ‘Nothing turns me on more than the sight of a strong man with a tea towel in his hand.’
That makes me laugh and the mayor turns to smile at us both.
When Matt’s completed his chores, he puts down the tea towel and says, ‘I need to go. I’ve got to cut the ribbon at a new playgroup this afternoon and shake some hands.’
‘Busy life,’ I say.
‘Have I passed the test here?’ he asks. ‘Will you have me back? You’re doing great work and I’d like to be involved.’
‘You’re welcome any time.’
‘Thanks for a great lunch, Bev,’ he says and makes her face go a nice shade of pink and her eyelashes all fluttery.
I suspect that she’s fanning herself with the tea towel as I walk Matt to his car by the gate.
‘Thanks, Molly. I’ve really enjoyed myself.’
‘It’s been nice to have you here.’ And then I do my usual thing and go all shy. We stand there by his car, not quite knowing how to part.
Then Wendy the Winky Washer rocks up in her rickety old truck and I open the gate for her.
‘Hiya!’ she says as she jumps out. Wendy is always the most cheerful of souls. I’m hoping it’s not entirely due to job satisfaction.
‘Hi, Wendy. Let me introduce you to Matt Eastman. He’s the local mayor.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ Wendy shakes his hand then says, ‘Are my boys ready for me?’
‘Wendy’s here to give the horses a . . . um . . . er . . . spa treatment.’
‘Sounds great,’ the mayor says. ‘Can I book myself in?’
‘I don’t normally do humans,’ Wendy replies with a wide grin, ‘but I’d make an exception for you, sweetheart.’
I try to hide my own smile and think it’s best if I don’t reveal the true nature of Wendy’s regular visits or the fact that she charges by the inch.
‘It’s a date,’ the mayor says and then climbs into his car. I go to the gate and let him out, waving as he drives away. I hope it’s not long before he comes back.
‘You’re very naughty,’ I say to Wendy as we walk up to the horses’ field together. ‘He had no idea what he was agreeing to.’
‘Shame.’ Wendy winks at me. ‘As I’d do that one for free.’
Chapter Eighteen
It’s been a long day, and when I get back to the caravan after the evening feeding frenzy, I’m exhausted. Even the dogs look knackered as they slope in behind me – except for Betty Bad, of course: The Dog Who’s Never Tired. Oh, to have her energy. Me, I’m looking forward to nothing more taxing than settling with the radio and my book. In the living room, Lucas is already showered and is sitting writing on his laptop. He looks up when I walk in.
‘Hi. You got finished early,’ I note.
‘Speed and efficiency,’ he deadpans.
I try to look over his shoulder at what he’s writing, but he’s having none of it and moves his body to block my view. I never manage to catch him out. ‘How’s it going?’
‘OK.’ He shrugs. ‘What’s for dinner?’
‘I hadn’t even given it a thought.’ I open the fridge and peer into it, hopefully. ‘There’s some leftover rice. Shall I zhoosh it up with some veg and a bit of curry powder? Maybe put an egg on top?’
‘We’re vegan.’
‘Right.’ No eggs.
‘Is there enough for Aurora?’
Oh, goodness. I’d entirely forgotten about the possibility of Aurora. ‘I thought that had been cancelled.’
‘It’s uncancelled,’ is all Lucas says.
‘I can make it stretch, but wouldn’t you like me to rustle up something a bit more fancy?’ Not sure how I might follow up on that offer, though. There must be some pasta lurking in the depths of the cupboard.
‘You don’t have to impress her,’ Lucas says. ‘She’s cool.’
But impress her I want to.
‘What time is she coming? Do I need to go and collect her?’
‘Stop panicking, Molly. She’s just a friend. I said to come about seven and she’s got a car so she’ll drive herself.’
‘Oh. Right.’ Her own car. That must mean she’s older than Lucas, if she’s already driving.
I check the time. I feel that I’ll be subject to scrutiny and hope that I’ve got time for a quick run round the shower. What’s happening here? I’ve already met one stranger today and that seems like more than enough. Yet I don’t want to ask Lucas to put off Aurora as he’s never brought anyone home before and, despite his protestations, I feel she must be important to him.
‘Can you chop some veg while I have a shower?’ I plonk an onion, some mushrooms and a red pepper on the work surface. That should liven up the rice a bit.
‘Sure.’ He closes his laptop and jumps up.
Lucas is surprisingly perky tonight. That’s a good thing, right?
‘I won’t be long.’
I get a nearly-smile. ‘OK.’
Feeling more anxious than is probably necessary, I go through to the bedroom. I’m used to dealing with teenagers at work, but this new relationship with Lucas is a steep learning curve. There are times, precious ones, when we seem in tune and can relax together. Other times, I feel as if I’m constantly walking on eggshells, and being permanent referee between Lucas and Shelby is definitely challenging.
The dogs follow me through to the bedroom, jump onto the bed and curl up together. ‘You’re not allowed in here,’ I remind them. ‘Much as I love you all, your fur makes Shelby sneeze.’
They look at me dolefully and snuggle tighter.
‘Banned territory,’ I reiterate.
None of them budge. They do look quite comfortable.
‘OK,’ I say, ‘You can stay in here while I’m in the shower, but that’s all. Then you’re back in the kitchen.’ I try to sound stern. They don’t look convinced.
Stripping off, I grab a towel and go to luxuriate in my indoor shower with hot water on tap. At times like this, I’m very grateful that Shelby has supplied me with such amenities. I hope he can find time to Skype me tonight, although I know his filming schedule is manic. I linger in the shower as long as I can possibly justify.
When I go back to the bedroom, the dogs are fast asleep in a huddle and don’t even rouse as I potter round getting dressed. It seems such a shame to wake them when they look so cute together. I’ll just leave them for a bit longer and make sure that I change the cover and give the room an extra hoover before Shelby’s next visit. Though I should point out that this caravan is immaculate compared to my last one. Bev says I’m turning into Mrs Hinch. I’ve no idea what that means.
I leave my hair wet and go back to the kitchen where Lucas is still busy chopping. He’s doing it with meticulous care and I sidle up next to him. ‘Better?’
‘Yes, you don’t smell of farm.’
‘Neither do you,’ I tell him. ‘I think there might even be a hint of aftershave.’
‘Stop that now,’ he warns.
I get the frying pan and glug in some oil. Lucas tips in the chopped veg while I find some pasta. The leftover rice can go into the animal feed. People say you shouldn’t reheat rice, but it hasn’t killed me yet. Though I would be mortified if I accidentally killed Lucas’s first girlfriend, so I’ll not risk it. Teacup will wolf it down gratefully.
While I get a pan for the pasta, I venture, ‘Do you want to tell me anything more about Aurora?’
‘Nothing much to say.’ Lucas concentrates on stirring the veg. ‘She’ll be here in a bit, you can see for yourself.’
I feel honoured and terrified about that in equal measure.
Lucas’s text alert sounds and he checks his phone. ‘She’s here,’ he says. ‘I’ll get the gate.’
So I take over the stirring while Lucas slips on his boots. ‘Don’t embarrass me,’ he says over his shoulder as he bolts outside.
‘I’ll try my best,’ I shout, but he’s already gone.
I tip a tin of tomatoes into the veg
and sprinkle it with herbs. I hope Aurora likes this kind of food. Then I wait with trepidation until she arrives.
Lucas is beaming widely when he opens the door. His pale skin is flushed and I can’t recall a moment when I’ve seen him look so happy. It brings a lump to my throat. There’s a trace of lipstick on his mouth – not his own.
Behind him, there’s a tall, willowy girl. She’s a real beauty with dark, glossy hair in corkscrew curls and skin the colour of wild honey. Wow. If this is Lucas’s ‘girlfriend’ he really has hit the jackpot. I’m no expert in these things, but she could be a model, I’m sure.
‘Molly, this is Aurora.’ There’s no denying the shy pride in his voice.
‘Hey,’ she says to me, all self-assured and confident. We shake hands.
‘Lovely to meet you. Welcome to our humble home.’ She’s definitely a few years older than Lucas. Nineteen, I’d say? Or maybe she’s not that old, it’s just the air that she has.
‘Let me take your coat,’ Lucas says, fussing round her.
She slips out of a fake sheepskin jacket and underneath she’s wearing a chunky cream sweater, ripped jeans – fashionable ones, not ripped from climbing over fences as mine are – and sturdy laced boots. She looks like she’s out of one of those clothing catalogues that Bev likes to browse.
‘Sit, sit,’ I say. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Dinner’s nearly ready. Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee?’
Lucas shoots me a look to say that I’m babbling. I shut up.
‘I’m good, thanks.’ She slides into the bench seat at the table.
I’m bowled over by her poise. At her age, I was a total wimp and, as you know, I’m not all that much better now. I can’t help but admire her but – and don’t judge me for this – I can’t help wondering what she’s doing with Lucas.
There are times when Lucas is very mature – however, there are an equal number of times when he’s just a lost and lonely boy. I can’t put my finger on why, but I’m worried for him. From the outset this doesn’t seem like an equal relationship, but then some would say that’s the same for me and Shelby. I’m making snap judgements and I shouldn’t. It’s nice for Lucas to be in love, but I only hope that he doesn’t get hurt as he’s doing so well. Any small thing can upset the equilibrium and first love is always a big thing. As you can imagine, I’m not going to be the one to tell Lucas that.
I serve up my modest offering, wishing it was something infinitely more impressive. Aurora greets it as if I’m handing over something cooked by a celebrity chef.
‘Oh, wow. This looks totally delicious, Molly. Thank you.’
‘It’s no trouble at all,’ I say as I slip in beside them, feeling ever so slightly gooseberryish. ‘Glad that you’re here.’
Lucas shoots me a ‘shut up’ look again. I shut up.
Yet, even with my speaking ban, during the course of our thrown-together dinner, I find out that Aurora is at art college studying textiles, she’s been writing and performing poetry for the last two years and that she still lives with her family on the other side of town. She’s nicely spoken, polite and chatty. Lucas, I notice, hangs on her every word. He is clearly smitten and that makes me smile.
‘Thank you, Molly,’ she says as she delicately dabs at her mouth with piece of kitchen roll that serves as a napkin. I did fold it into a triangle, though. ‘Can I help you to clear up?’
‘It won’t take me a minute. Are you going to show Aurora around the farm?’
‘It’s too cold,’ Lucas says. ‘We’re going to go into my room to write together.’
‘Right.’ What do I say to that? I’ve never had to deal with Lucas taking a girl – woman – into his room before. Do I get them to leave the door open, hover outside, or are they at an age where I just leave them to get on with it? Has he tidied it up or is it still a health-hazard? Surrogate parenting is tricky. I wish Shelby were here to advise me, but he doesn’t even know about Aurora yet.
They get up from the table and leave me to tidy up and wash the dishes. As I wipe round with a tea towel, I can hear laughter coming from Lucas’s room – mainly Aurora’s – which is nice but also weird. It’s even more strange when I can’t hear a single sound. What are they doing? Concentrating on their writing? I flipping hope so. I feel I’m dealing with a Lucas that I don’t know, one that’s emerging from being a child into a man.
Eeeek.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Bev. She’ll know what to do.
Chapter Nineteen
I try to settle into reading, then try listening to something soothing on the radio, but I feel as if I’m on high-alert to every sound – or lack thereof – from Lucas’s bedroom. I want to check on the dogs and get them off my bed, but I daren’t go near that part of the caravan or Lucas will think I’m snooping on them. This is traumatic.
About two hours later, when I’m just considering that I need to head to my room and how to approach that scenario, Lucas and Aurora emerge. Lucas is definitely flushed and Aurora is more dishevelled than when she went in.
‘Aurora’s going now,’ Lucas says.
‘Oh, right. Good. Lovely to meet you.’
‘Thank you for having me, Molly. Supper was delightful.’
‘My pleasure. It’s nice for Lucas to bring a . . . friend . . . home.’
I get the usual death stare.
‘Aurora’s coat?’ I remind him.
So he fusses with helping her on with it, while she giggles.
‘I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe Lucas will invite you to our open day.’
‘I’d love that,’ she says. ‘He’s told me all about it. I can’t wait to meet the animals.’
That has to be a good thing? He knows his father is likely to be there and yet he’s still asked her to come.
Just as Lucas is opening the door to the caravan, I hear a car pull up at the gate. And not just any car. Lucas and I exchange a glance.
‘Damn,’ Lucas mutters.
The quiet purring sound of Shelby’s Bentley is quite distinctive. It can only be him.
I feel guilty, as if I’m caught in a clandestine act. Which I am, in some ways. Lucas’s face changes too.
‘What?’ Aurora says, as well she might.
‘You have to go now,’ Lucas says and tries to hurry her into her coat.
But it’s too late, Shelby has let himself through and is already parking in the yard outside the caravan, right next to Aurora’s more modest car. There’s no way that Lucas can get his girlfriend out without her meeting his father.
While Aurora looks puzzled and Lucas and I behave as guiltily as we possibly can, the door opens and Shelby steps inside. ‘Hello, there,’ he says and then stops in his tracks when he sees Aurora. ‘I didn’t know you had company.’
‘This is Aurora,’ I say when Lucas fails to speak.
‘She’s just leaving.’ Lucas pushes the poor, bewildered girl towards the door.
‘Don’t hurry away on my account.’ Shelby turns on the full force of his charm. Which is exactly what Lucas will hate.
‘Are you . . .’ she stammers.
‘I am.’ Shelby beams at her. Not just a normal beam, his mega-watt, starry beam. Lucas’s face grows dark. Oh, dear.
Aurora turns to Lucas. ‘You didn’t say.’
‘It’s no big deal.’ Lucas has reverted to angry teenager, which is sad to see.
I step between Shelby and Lucas. ‘Aurora has things to do,’ I say. ‘We shouldn’t keep her.’
‘I don’t,’ she says. ‘I can stay longer.’
‘Lucas, you see your friend to her car and I’ll put the kettle on.’
Lucas takes Aurora’s elbow and steers her out.
‘Thank you again for dinner,’ she shouts as she leaves rather unceremoniously.
I turn to Shelby. ‘Tea?’
‘I think I need a double brandy,’ he says. ‘Is that what I think it was?’
‘She’s a friend,’ I tell him.
‘My eye,’ is Shelby’s
verdict. ‘My son has a cracker of a girlfriend and I’m the last to know, as always.’
His tone is crisper than it needs to be.
‘It was a last-minute arrangement,’ I offer placatingly. ‘I wasn’t expecting Aurora and I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘Evidently.’
Lucas comes back in, rubbing his hands nipped by the cold. His face is like thunder.
‘Well,’ Shelby says. ‘Are you going to let your old dad in on this?’
‘There’s nothing to tell. She’s a friend.’
‘A very pretty one.’
Lucas’s eyes narrow and, if I’m honest with you, I wish Shelby hadn’t turned up. Lucas is obviously feeling very sensitive and sometimes Shelby needs his mouth taping up. Why does he have to say all the wrong things when it comes to Lucas?
‘Come on then, spill the beans. Why are you keeping her hidden?’
‘Shelby,’ I say. ‘Let it drop. We’ll have a nice cuppa and you can tell us all about how your filming went today.’
‘Yeah, let’s turn the subject back to you, Daddy,’ Lucas snarls. ‘We wouldn’t want anyone else having any attention.’
Shelby’s face tightens and I feel resignation wash over me. Here we go again.
‘I know you and Molly like your little secrets, but I’m the one who pays all the bills round here. I think I’m entitled to know what’s going on.’
Now it’s my turn to look shocked. ‘I don’t think there’s any need to play that card.’ I turn to Lucas. ‘I’m sorry, Lucas, but would you mind going to your room. I’d like to speak to your father privately.’
He goes to speak, but I hold up a hand and so he turns on his heels and marches towards his room. As he does, the dogs start to bark and Lucas opens the door to my bedroom, letting them out. Thanks for that, Lucas. Sensing that Shelby’s here, they bound into the living room and try to jump all over him and lick him to death.
‘Down,’ I say. ‘No jumping!’ The dogs, too pleased to see Shelby, bounce with joy and ignore every word I utter. Much jumping is involved. They love him. What can I say?
‘Can’t you control these hounds?’ he snaps. ‘I’ve spent all day on set with bloody animals. I don’t need any more of it.’
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