Bea would recognise that brusque tone anywhere. She leaned precariously over the balcony in a vain attempt to peer around the tree. “Fancy seeing you again so soon, Mrs Potter.” He touched her shoulder lightly from behind.
Bea swung round, embarrassed to have been caught looking the wrong way, grabbed at the palm frond to move it away from her face and slipped on the floor, landing with a heavy slap on her bum. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” He unsuccessfully tried to stifle his laughter. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright. Here,” he held his hand out for her to take, “let me help you up.”
She closed her eyes momentarily wishing he would disappear, and then opening them, looked up into those sparkly blue eyes as he waited patiently for her to take his hand. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her heels not gripping enough to let her stand up.
Luke bent down. “Put your arms around my neck,” he said, barely hiding a smile.
Unable to see any other way she’d manage to stand without taking off the damn shoes, Bea reached up and as he took hold of her, their faces millimetres apart, she breathed in the heady scent of his citrusy aftershave. Tingles shot to various parts of her anatomy she didn’t want to think about right now, and as Luke placed her carefully back onto her feet, he stood upright and smiled. “I hope you’re not too sore.”
She could barely breathe as she looked up at him, so different now with his haircut slightly shorter and his beard trimmed. Bea rubbed her bottom to sooth the bruising pain. There was something very appealing about him, despite his enjoyment of her humiliation and she knew without a doubt that the self-assured Adonis in front of her was the very last man on Earth she should allow herself to fall for.
THREE
Scorching Hot
Luke had to try hard not to let Bea see how amused he'd been by her confusion. Her eyes were the deepest jade he’d ever seen. They were so pretty, despite being narrowed in irritation, as she appeared to be stuck for words.
“My name’s Beatrice.” She stepped forward waving away the palm frond.
“Beatrix Potter,” he mused slowly, unable to help teasing her for a little longer.
The green eyes narrowed even further. “No, it’s Beatrice with a ‘c’ and Porter with an ‘r’ and I’ll be changing my surname back to Philips first thing next week,” she said, straightening her short skirt and pulling her shoulders back so that she reached her full height, of, he estimated about five feet four without those heels.
“It’s not such a bad name, it could be worse,” said Luke, feeling a little guilty for annoying her so much.
“That’s easy for you to say. The worst thing is everyone who makes up some joke about my name always assumes they're the first person to think of it.”
He tried to look a little serious. “Annoying, to say the least, I should imagine.” He watched in silence as she studied his face, and wondered if he should explain that the bump in his nose was down to a particularly nasty rugby tackle several years earlier. If she wasn't so defensive, he would find it hard to resist kissing those pouting lips right now.
“When Mel gave me your business details,” she said, bringing him back to the present, “she explained you were a friend of Grant’s, though I’ve never heard him mention you before.”
Luke shrugged. “School pals.” He didn't add that Grant was the one to break his nose so painfully. “I only recently met up with him again and he invited me tonight.” He wished her eyes weren't quite so hypnotising. She was managing to stir up feelings he hadn’t experienced since, well, since he'd decided that trusting people was a mug’s game. “I was going to make my excuses, I’m not sure this really is my thing,” he admitted, pleased to note she gave a momentary look of, what was it? Surprise? Disappointment? Stop it, he told himself, don't let her get under your skin. Pretty, she may be, and there's something a little too intriguing about her. “I’m glad I came now though,” he admitted, immediately wondering why he'd said it out loud, when he hadn't intended doing so.
She flushed slightly, the colour enhancing her prettiness. He’d bet she had no idea how lovely she looked. “They’re getting married on Liberation Day too. That must have taken some arranging, don’t you think?”
“Probably,” she said eventually. Luke frowned, had he somehow managed to say the wrong thing? “That’ll be something of an ordeal to arrange,” Bea added. “Although my stepmother will no doubt be delighted at the prospect. She’s been dying for the excuse to arrange a wedding for ages.”
“I thought you were sisters? Although to be honest you’re so fair and Mel’s very dark, you are very different to look at.” He wished he could stop talking nonsense, she’d think he was nuts.
“My mum died when I was four, Joyce was my dad’s secretary and they got married a few months later.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to such honesty, noticing for the first time the deep sadness in this beautiful girl’s eyes. His problems had been different to hers, but he saw she knew what it was like to be hurt, betrayed. Luke wasn’t sure what to say next. “That must have been a little strange for you to come to terms with?”
Bea shrugged. “I don’t remember it very well, if I’m honest. They sent me to stay with my godmother when they left for their honeymoon and soon after that, Joyce became pregnant with Mel. I loved living at The Brae and it suited Dad and Joyce for me to be where I was happiest and so that’s where I pretty much grew up.”
“Was your aunt your mum’s sister then?” he asked, wanting to make the most of her openness; he had the feeling she didn’t often speak so readily about her past. She seemed a little detached as she spoke, as if she was recalling something.
Bea nodded. “If I’m honest, Aunt Annabel is the only mother I truly remember.”
“You must miss her very much?” He couldn’t help asking such an obvious question and the dark green pools of sadness in her eyes when she nodded made him want to take her in his arms and comfort her. He was about to change the subject when someone called her name from the doorway.
“Bea, there you are.”
Luke turned to see who had made her face light up so instantaneously and watched as a blond man, about the same height as Bea, entered the room.
“Sorry, Sweets, I didn’t realise you had company,” he said, looking Luke up and down before smiling. Luke glanced at Bea waving her friend over to join them.
“Paul,” she said. “Come and meet Luke. He’s a friend of Grant’s.”
Luke could feel her watching them, as he shook Paul's hand. Then, when Paul didn't speak, but gawped silently up at him, Luke wondered if maybe they wanted to talk in private. He turned to Bea and smiled. “Maybe I’ll catch you later,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you Paul,” he added, shaking Paul's hand once more before walking away. He glanced over his shoulder at her talking animatedly to her friend, before returning to the party. She might be beautiful, but where did this compulsion to look after her come from? She seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Luke sighed; he had enough to focus on with his own near bankruptcy and problems with Chris. He regretted ever meeting the man, let along agreeing to set up their building business together. Never mind, tonight wasn’t the time for regrets. He forced a smile on his face and went back to join Grant and congratulate him on his forthcoming wedding.
“Well, you’re a dark horse,” Paul teased her, once they had re-joined Shani. “Fancy keeping such a magnificent specimen all to yourself!”
“He is drop-dead gorgeous, and so tall.” Shani sighed. “How come I’ve never come across Luke Thornton before?”
“Do you know him?” Bea asked, unable to hide her interest.
“No, but I’ve seen his picture in the Jersey Gazette a few times. Something to do with a court case I think. He’s very ambitious, and a bit of a one with the ladies, or so I’m told. Mind you looking at him, it’s hardly surprising.” She winked at Bea. “Good for you.”
“Good for me, nothing.” Bea frowned and rubbed her bottom again
. She was going to have to find that arnica cream she’d bought last year and put some on the bruising when she got home. “I slipped over on these bloody shoes and he had to help me up. It was so embarrassing. If Paul had come to the conversation a little later, he’d have probably heard us discussing the decoration his men will be doing on my house. I just hope Luke gives me a fair price, that’s all.”
“Maybe I could offer to help out?” Paul teased pursing his lips.
“I can’t see you sanding down walls or being any good with a paintbrush,” Bea laughed.
“How do you know? I could be brilliant at it. Why don’t I come along one day?”
“What, and embarrass me? I don’t think so. He’s a friend of Grant’s, and I have a feeling he’s doing him the favour, rather than me.” She looked at the two disappointed faces in front of her. “I doubt he'll be the one actually doing the work at The Brae anyway. It'll more than likely be the two other guys who came to the house with him.”
“Er, excuse me,” interrupted Mel, from behind Shani. “Grant said you were chatting to Luke, so now are you grateful to me for giving you his number?”
“Never mind that.” Bea glared at her sister, happy to finally be able to confront her out of earshot from the other guests. “Why are you getting married on Liberation Day? You know that day is going to be horrific for me?
“It’s not all about you, you know.” Mel ran her hands over her shiny black bob.
“It is a little insensitive though, Mel,” Shani said.
“More than a little, if you ask me,” Paul snapped.
Mel stood with her hands on her hips and looked at each of them in turn. “The entire island has a holiday on Liberation Day and there are flags decorating many of the houses, I don’t see why I can’t make the most of those decorations, good moods and fun to hold my wedding.”
“But what about Bea?” Shani asked, resting a hand on Bea’s shoulder.
“For pity’s sake, surely it’s a good thing to change the day from one of sad memories to one of celebration?”
Bea sighed. She’d like to think so, but it was too soon. “Maybe in a year or two, but not for Annabel’s first anniversary, Mel.”
“You’re just being selfish, as usual. It’s always got to be about you, hasn’t it? Mum said you’d react like this.”
Paul glared at Mel and stepped forward. “Leave it,” Bea said. She didn’t need a full-scale row at this party. She took his arm and for a moment Bea thought Mel was about to slap him. “Now isn’t the time for this conversation.”
“Too bloody right it isn’t. I’m sure you’ll all excuse me,” Mel snapped. “I think it's time I return to my friendlier guests.” She leant towards Bea. “Once you’ve got over your sulking about my wedding date, remind me to talk to you about taking an injunction out against Simon. He can’t be allowed to keep coming to your house and abusing you like he has been doing.”
Bea took a deep breath. She couldn’t decide if Mel was really as unfeeling as she made out, or if she was merely influenced by her mother about the wedding.
“She really doesn’t get it, does she?” Paul said, as soon as Mel had walked away.
“She’s so odd. One minute she’s giving you what for about the wedding date, the next she wants to help you against Simon. I think I’m the one that doesn’t get it, Paul,” Shani said, bemused by the exchange between Bea and Mel. “She does love being a legal assistant though, doesn’t she?” Shani turned to face Bea. Thinking for a moment, she asked. “So, what has Simon been up to this time?”
Bea shook her head “No, we’re not going to talk about him, and I don’t want you two getting involved in my rows with Mel. We’ve always been like this, so it’s bound to be worse with the wedding coming up, those things always cause friction within families.”
“Especially yours, it seems,” Paul said, still red in the face with irritation. “If her mother wasn’t so desperate to push Mel forward in your dad’s affections, there wouldn’t be this problem between you both. You get along perfectly well when Joyce isn’t pushing Mel to do things.”
Bea had to agree with him. She wasn’t sure if it was because her mum had died so suddenly in that car crash that she’d become this mythical figure to them all. She recalled asking Aunt Annabel about it a few times years before and she’d always maintained that her father never stopped loving Bea’s mum and just because he’d married his secretary so soon after didn’t mean that he’d forgotten her. Bea supposed she was right.
“Getting back to more interesting topics.” Paul indicated to where Luke was talking to a group consisting mainly of fluttery-eyed females.
Bea looked over at him. Luke seemed to sense he had an audience, and turned his head to look straight into Bea’s eyes. Paul sighed. Then, just before she managed to tear her gaze away from him, he turned back to his friends and continued with his conversation.
“He really is hot,” Shani groaned. “Powerful looking, which is always preferable when you’re as tall as me.”
“Shame he’s not interested in you then, isn’t it?” Paul teased, clutching his shoulder where she slapped him. “Ouch.”
“Paul wasn’t kidding, though, you’re a lucky girl.”
“Will you both stop it,” Bea whispered. “We're not teenagers any more, and he’s only being polite. I’m a prospective client of his, nothing more. To be honest, I won’t be able to use him for much of the work, because I’ve hardly got any money to spare for it. Anyway, I hate to disappoint you both, but I'm going on a date with Tom, probably next Saturday night, but he’s got a lot on at the moment, so maybe some time after that.”
There was a heavy silence. Bea wished one of them would speak.
“Tom? Tom Brakespear?” Paul walked over to a nearby sofa and slumped back onto it, patting the seats either side of him. “Sit, spill, I want to know everything. Wasn't he that beautiful boy from Jersey whose heart you broke when you dumped him to go out with Simon? The one you went to uni with?”
“He is.” Bea nodded, relieved to have so successfully drawn their attention away from Luke and remembering how amused her father had been that the boy she’d gone out with at university was also from Jersey.
“Where’s he been all these years then?” Shani asked sitting down next to them.
“London mainly, I believe. He moved back home to Jersey a couple of years ago with his wife and two kids, but he’s getting divorced. Oddly enough his job is administering trust companies, like me and he’s my new line manager at work.” Bea enjoyed their wide-eyed surprise at her news.
“He’s the new boss you were wondering about the other week?”
Bea nodded. “I couldn’t believe it when he was introduced to us all on Monday.”
“Won’t that be a little awkward?” Paul asked thoughtfully. “After all you didn’t part on great terms.”
“He seems fine.” Bea shrugged. Meeting Tom again had been far easier than she’d ever hoped it would be.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to go out with him though?” Shani picked up her drink, stared at it for a moment and placed it back down on the table without drinking from the glass.
“He asked me, and I couldn’t think of a reason to turn him down. I thought you both liked Tom, and let’s face it you two have been desperate for me to go out with someone. You should be relieved.”
“We um, we are,” Shani said unconvincingly. “But surely, if you have the chance of going out with someone new and exciting, like Luke, for example, then why bother with Tom?”
“Tom has asked me, Luke hasn’t and it may not have occurred to you, but I can't imagine I’d appeal to Luke in that way.”
“Why not?” they asked in unison.
“Because according to Mel, he has enough on his plate right now.” She checked he wasn’t in earshot and leant forward, lowering her voice. “And looking at him, you can see why. He’s obviously a popular guy, and busy with his business.”
“I’d rugby tackle him to the
ground if he came to my house,” Shani said.
Bea laughed. “You probably would too, but I can’t really see me flinging myself bodily at a bloke. Anyway, it’s not a real date with Tom,” Bea changed the subject. “We’re only going out for a meal to catch up.”
“It’ll do you good and should take your mind off Simon and that house for a bit. You’re far too young to have been left with all these responsibilities,” Paul mumbled, taking a sip of his drink and gazing longingly in Luke's direction.
“Aunt Annabel expected to be here for years yet,” Bea said sadly. “She was only seventy.”
“Yes, well I’m glad you’re going out with Tom. Is he still hot?” Shani asked, nudging Bea.
“He’s not very different to how he used to look. In fact, I think he’s better looking now. Not so much boy band, more rock band.” Bea laughed as she pictured Tom with his hair all ruffled while wearing a leather jacket and jeans.
“Rocker in a grey suit,” Shani teased. “He was too immaculate to ever be in any band, apart from maybe a sixties crooner. At least you know him and knowing you, you’ll want someone you feel relaxed with, at least to start off with.”
Bea smiled. “We’ll see. He might have changed, but he used to be good fun and didn’t spend all our dates preening in front of other women, like Simon seems to do now. I have to admit I’m looking forward to Saturday.”
Bea slowly opened her eyes after an unsettling night dreaming that she had found a secret passage behind her wardrobe where she might find the mysterious legacy her aunt had left her. It was another sweltering day. She stretched, relishing the heat, then remembering her aunt’s plants in the greenhouse, she threw back the sheet covering her legs and stood up. Staring at the antique wardrobe standing an inch or so away from the wall, it was obvious there were no hidden entrances behind it. She’d better go and water the plants before the temperature rose too much and the heat burnt their leaves. Bea pulled back the curtains and opened the window a little wider staring out at the garden wishing her aunt had given her a hint or clue as to what the Jersey Kiss could be. Pulling on a pair of denim shorts and a bikini top, she called out to Flea and went downstairs.
The Jersey Scene series box set Page 3