“There’s a knack to these things,” he said, shrugging. “Years of practice as I was growing up certainly helped. Tell you what, why don’t I do this for you, and you can make us both one of your excellent coffees?”
“I’ve got something much more tempting than coffee,” she said thinking about the lemonade cooling in her fridge. When she noticed Luke’s surprise at her comment, she hurriedly changed the subject. “Do you know how much lawn there is?” Bea asked, perplexed by his offer to do such a tedious task. “It goes up the other side of the driveway too, as well as down past the orchard.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what then, I’ll do the main lawn areas now, and leave the less obvious areas for another day.”
Bea couldn’t believe his offer, but had no intention of turning it down. She loved pottering in gardens, sowing seeds, dead-heading, and even planting, but the prospect of walking up and down pushing a mower, especially the part where it had to be repeatedly emptied, left her cold. “Well if you’re certain you don’t mind, it would be a great help. Thanks.”
She almost skipped into the house, and as soon as she was sure he couldn’t see her from her vantage point behind the dining room window, took a sneaky look at the handsome bearded man with the untidy hair, and deep blue eyes she couldn’t help finding so mesmerising. He was like a big bear. A sexy, big bear. It was wonderful to enjoy the chance of appreciating his powerful physique more fully for once. She watched his long legs pacing back and forth in straight lines across her wide, overgrown lawn and felt a warm glow inside.
“For heaven’s sake.” She stepped back from the full-length window, nearly stepping on Flea and causing him to yelp in protest. She was relieved Tom’s promise to show her the paperwork had been delayed by an unexpected project keeping them apart at work for the last few weeks. She wasn’t going to think of Luke as guilty until she saw proof that he was. Bea hugged herself. Luke was so different to Simon and Tom physically; it wasn’t like her to be attracted to someone so rugged. She smiled.
Bea calculated it would take him well over an hour to finish his task and long enough time for her to be able to sort through her wooden seed box in the potting shed.
“I saw a door open on one of the stables,” he announced from outside the door, what seemed like moments later. She stopped tidying away the spilt compost from the worktop and looked up at his damp chest. “I presume the mower is kept in there.” Bea nodded.
“Thanks so much for doing that. I've been dreading tackling the mowing for weeks.” She brushed the peat off her hands as he looked around the walled-in garden, wondering what had taken his eye.
“Are those Jersey Lilies?” he asked, pointing to a clump of pretty pink flowers with tiny red crosses on their petals.
“No, I’m not sure what they are.” Bea pointed to the larger pink lilies nearby. “Those are Jersey Lilies, Amaryllis Belladonna. To be honest my godmother always thought the Guernsey Lilies were prettier; they’re smaller, daintier.”
“I like those first ones, they’re unusual. Would you like me to take a picture of them and ask my uncle if he knows what they are? He’s a horticulturalist or something like that.”
“If you like, thanks.” She watched him take a quick photo of the flowers with his mobile. “I suppose I should know what each of these plants are called if I’m to learn how to look after them all properly. Do you want to come in the house to freshen up a bit?”
Luke followed her to the house and she watched as he bent down to remove his boots. He washed his hands and face at the sink and Bea handed him a towel to dry himself before going to take the jug of lemonade out of the fridge and placing it onto the table. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved that he chose not to remove his top. He went to sit opposite her, leaning his bare forearms on the bleached pine of the table. Bea had to force herself not to stare at the golden hairs covering his skin.
“I’ll come and do the rest of your mowing another day, if that’s ok?”
“Only if you’re sure you don’t mind. I was hoping to employ a gardening firm to come and sort it all out, but I can’t afford to.”
“Well, it's one hell of a garden to look after.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he spoke, and Bea was unable to tear her gaze away from him.
“Luke, as well as the garden, I also want you to know how grateful I am for the work your men have done here,” she said. “Their standard is so high, and I’ve heard horror stories about workmen beginning a job and disappearing half way through, sometimes for months.”
“I know what you mean,” he nodded. “It's a pet hate of mine, which is why we don’t take on work unless we know we can complete it without messing clients about.” He sat back and stared at her for a while.
“Not out with your friends today?” He glanced towards the kitchen door, as if expecting them to suddenly appear through it. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “On the phone you were going to tell me something about the work, but you didn’t actually say what it was.”
“I’m not sure how much more I can afford to do here. I’ll physically do as much as I can and I owe it to my aunt to keep her garden perfect.” She said, not sure how to continue with the conversation. “Lemonade?” she asked, indicating the crystal jug in the middle of the table. “I thought you might appreciate this more than coffee after all your hard work.”
“Looks good.” He took a sip of the cool drink, the bitterness making his eyes blink.
Bea stifled a giggle. “Mmm, I think this batch is probably a little tart, but it's the coldest drink I have, unless you'd rather have water, or coffee, of course.”
He cleared his throat, shaking his head slowly and wincing. He smiled. “No, this is fine,” he said, his voice raspy. “It takes me back to my misspent youth.” He crossed his legs at the ankles, stretching his long legs out under the table and grazing her ankle.
Bea didn’t move away from his touch. “Hardly very misspent, if you were drinking lemonade,” she teased happily pushing the renovations to the back of her mind.
“It was what we added to it that was a naughty.” He raised an eyebrow.
“What was it? Gin? Vodka?” she asked, enjoying the banter between them.
Luke laughed. “Granny’s cherry brandy.”
Bea grimaced. “Gross. I bet you only did that once?”
He nodded, watching her silently for a moment or two. “Now that the mowing has been partly done and we’re both free agents today, why don’t we make the most of this great weather and take a trip to the Écréhous islands?”
“In your boat, you mean?” Bea hadn’t expected this, but what was stopping her? He sat opposite her and waited for her to answer.
“We could take our lunch there; make the most of what’s left of the day. I think we could both do with some time off, don’t you?”
Bea was sorely tempted, despite knowing she should keep her distance from him. Sod the investigation, for once, she thought, it was only lunch after all. “Why not? I’ve never been to the islands before and who knows when I’ll get an offer like this again?” she said. She’d just have to be careful not to say anything that could raise his suspicions and alert him about the investigation.
Luke stood up. “Great. The sea should be pretty calm and now that most of the holiday-makers have left, we might even find we’re the only ones there.”
“Sounds perfect,” she admitted, liking the prospect even more than she’d expected to. “I’ll just phone Shani and ask if she can pop in later to take Flea out for a walk and keep an eye on him while I’m away,” she said, checking Flea had enough food and water. She quickly phoned Shani and, satisfied that she would be round to the house in an hour or so, followed Luke out to his truck. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “I’ve always meant to go there.”
“Good,” said Luke. “Then it makes our trip even more fun.”
As they drove through the country lanes across the north of the isl
and to St Catherine’s Bay, Luke told Bea all about Alphonse De Gastelois, a recluse who fled to live for fourteen years on one of the main islands in the sixties when he was accused of molesting children.
“But it wasn’t him, was it?” Bea said remembering back to hearing her stepmother tell stories about the Beast of Jersey and how he’d terrorised the islanders, especially those living in the east all those years before.
“No, poor devil.” Luke indicated to turn down towards the bay. “They caught the Beast. Poor Alphonse was brought back and there was talk of giving him compensation for everything he’d gone through over those years. I should think there were a few red faces over that, too. Look,” he pointed out to the Channel. “Over there, the Écréhous.”
Bea peered out of the window and saw the islands, looking like nothing more than a cluster of rocks poking up out of the sea about halfway between Jersey and the coast of France. “People don’t actually live there, do they?” she asked, wondering if she should already know the answer.
Luke shook his head. “No, but several of the islanders own huts on the main islands, and you can rent one of them, The Old Customs House, from the Parish of St Martin.”
Bea couldn’t wait to get out there. She wasn’t sure if she was more excited about going on his boat or seeing these intriguing little islands for the first time.
He parked the car. “Just popping in to the café. I won’t be long.”
Bea leant against the railings and breathed in the warm salty air. “No, I’ll come in with you.”
She watched from the doorway as Luke walked over to the owner. “Good day today, Barrington?” he asked.
The older man, with his untidy hair and mahogany tan smiled when he heard Luke’s voice. “It certainly has been. It’s been packed all day today.” He suddenly noticed Bea standing further back. “What are you doing here?” he shouted, opening his arms wide to welcome her. “Come and give me a hug.”
Bea laughed. “Hello, Barrington. Sorry I haven’t been down here for so long.”
He held her by her shoulders and studied her for a moment. “It’s okay, your dad told me you were working on that house of yours. Not having too much trouble from that ex, I hope?”
Bea shook her head. She wasn’t going to give the old man any reason to worry about her. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Good.” He frowned and looked up at Luke. “You two come here together, did you?”
Luke nodded. “We did. I’ve invited Bea to join me for lunch on the Écréhous. Got any cooked lobster we could take with us?”
“I’ve got a couple here, just cooked for someone, but you can have them, I can get more from one of the fishermen on the slipway.”
“If you’re sure,” said Bea, not wanting to cause him any extra work.
Barrington slapped Luke on the back. “For this lad, and you of course, m’darlin’, I’m only too happy to give them to you, well, at a little over cost, that is.”
Luke laughed. “Great and we’ll also need something to drink and maybe a baguette if you have one going spare.”
Barrington looked over his shoulder to his chef. “You got that, love?”
The amused woman nodded. “Two minutes.”
Luke went over to the till to settle up. Barrington immediately put his arm around Bea’s shoulders and led her outside. “Good chap you’ve got there, my love,” he said. “It does me good to see you happy. I always thought that Simon was going to break that heart of yours one day. He talks the talk, he does, but only when he wants something. You’re far better off without him.”
“That’s what Aunt Annabel said too,” Bea said, her voice choking with emotion.
“She was a good woman. Did I tell you I asked her to marry me once?”
“Yes,” Bea laughed. “But she married Uncle Antonio instead and you’ve never got over it.”
Barrington shook his head and gave her a tight hug. “I loved my Sylvia, but Annabel was my first love, that’s no lie.” He motioned to Luke waiting patiently at the counter for their lunch. “He’ll look after you, young Luke. Have fun.”
“I don’t need looking after, Barrington, but thanks anyway.” Bea kissed him on his cheek. “We’re only going for a bite to eat; it’s nothing to get excited about.”
He pursed his lips. “If you say so.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Here he comes. Now you two youngsters have fun.”
“We will,” she said, shaking her head and giving him a quick hug. She caught Luke’s eye and he smiled at her. He seemed very fond of Barrington, too and she wondered how they knew each other.
“Come along,” Luke said taking her by the hand. “We can’t listen to this old reprobate all day, or we’ll miss the tide, and you don’t want to have to only see the Écréhous from a distance. The rocks are vicious out there, we have to time this well.”
Once Luke had showered and changed and they’d cast off, it took Bea a little while before she got used to the movement of his beautiful wooden boat. She relaxed against the open door to the wheelhouse. Gazing up at the high mast, she wondered how often he hoisted the sails, or if it was easier to use the engine to get anywhere.
“Engine,” he said smiling at her.
Bea narrowed her eyes, wondering if she’d spoken her question out loud. “What?”
“You were thinking about whether or not I make use of the wind or diesel to get from place to place on this beauty of mine.”
Bea laughed. “Yes, I was. Why don’t you use the sails though?”
“I do, when I’m further out to sea.” He looked across at the breakwater and Bea followed his gaze, watching St Catherines receding away from them.
“I really should come here more often,” she said, breathing deeply and closing her eyes in the sun.
“St Catherines, or on my boat?” Luke teased, as he steered the boat.
“St Catherines,” she said, not opening her eyes, but aware he was watching her.
“Well, I’ll just have to make sure you enjoy your trip enough for you to want to come again, shan’t I?”
“Yes,” she said. “This is bliss. Do you ever see dolphins?”
“We do, especially when the sea is warmer. They swim by the boats and Barrington sees them quite a lot from the café.”
Bea leant back, resting on her elbows, and watched Luke, so comfortable with his boat, as if it were a part of him. She ran her fingers along the varnished handrail. “It’s so classical,” she said. “You must have to spend a lot of time working on all this wood.”
He shrugged. “I love beautifully crafted things and this boat is a bit of an obsession of mine.”
“So, you’re in no rush to finish the restoration of your cottage then?”
Luke laughed. “No, which is just as well.”
“Why?”
“I might be selling it sooner than I’d assumed.” Before Bea could question him further, he pointed back to Jersey’s shoreline, at the rich green trees and tiny coves, then across to the Normandy coast. “Perfect, don’t you think?”
Bea nodded, aware that he’d opened up to her more than he’d intended doing. “I really don’t make the most of living on this island, you know.”
“Most people don’t,” Luke said. “I think life gets so busy sometimes we forget to enjoy everything we have around us.”
She felt the engines slowing down and saw the little group of islands nearby. “They’re so pretty,” she said. “Like something in a picture book.”
“Not so inviting in the winter and damn frightening during a storm,” Luke said, dropping the anchor and moving their bags of food and drink from the galley into the dingy at the back of the boat. “Here, let me help you.”
She took his cool hand and tentatively stepped down into the small boat. “Thanks,” she said, holding on tightly until she was safely seated.
Luke showed her around the small islands, and Bea couldn’t get over the tiny, one-room huts, used mainly by fisherman, then more recently by the luck
y local families who owned one of them. She peered into another window. “Why doesn’t anyone live here?” she asked.
“No fresh water supply,” Luke said, leading her over to a small cove and laying out a blanket for them to sit on as he took out their lunch. “Holidaymakers have been coming to stay here since Victorian times.”
“Can’t say I blame them.” She took a plastic plate with the freshly cooked lobster and a dollop of yellowy mayonnaise from his hands. “This is heavenly,” she said, unable to remember anything more perfect. “Thank you for bringing me here today.”
Luke smiled at her. “My pleasure, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Tom,” Luke said after a few minutes.
“What?” Why did he want to know about Tom, Bea wondered?
“I think I saw him here a couple of months ago.” Luke didn’t look at her, but thoughtfully took a drink from his bottle of water.
Bea shook her head. “I doubt it; Tom hates the sea, from what I remember.”
Luke stopped eating and looked at her. “Does he have a couple of children?”
Bea nodded, wishing he’d drop the subject. “He does, they’re quite small.”
“Then I’m sure it was him. I thought I’d seen him somewhere before when I saw you both at your house that evening. I’m sure it was here, although I can’t be certain because I was in the boat at the time and he was onshore.”
“I think you must be mistaken. I can’t see him coming here. He once told me about nearly drowning at Green Island when he was small, so he’s very wary of the sea. I know he doesn’t like boats. It can’t have been him.”
Luke didn’t look too convinced. “You’re probably right. How’s that lobster tasting?”
“Delicious,” said Bea, feeling better now he’d changed the subject.
They finished their lunch in silence and Bea relished being with him in such a tranquil place, with nothing but birds and the sound of the waves breaking against the rocks to disturb them. After tidying up, Luke helped her to her feet. “Fancy seeing more of the islands?” he asked.
The Jersey Scene series box set Page 9