‘And will everyone be able to tell that it’s a graft? I mean, will it look different to the rest of my face?’
‘There’s bound to be some scarring,’ Jack explained gently. ‘But the results are usually excellent. In a year or so, you will hardly notice it at all.’
‘A year!’ Becca sounded stricken. ‘It will take that long to heal?’
‘It could do.’ Jack leant forward and looked her straight in the eyes. ‘I know it’s going to be hard, sweetheart, but I promise you that you will hardly notice any difference in time.’
‘But I’ll still look like a freak when I start university this October,’ she wailed.
Jack tried to console her, but nothing he said calmed her down. In the end, he wrote her up for a mild sedative and went to have a word with her parents who had arrived back from holiday that morning. They too were distraught when he explained the situation to them, and that made him feel worse. He wished with all his heart that there was something more he could do, but he couldn’t perform miracles. All he had was his skill as a surgeon, and in some cases it simply wasn’t enough.
A cloud of gloom seemed to hang over him for the rest of the day. He checked on Becca before he left, but she was very subdued and barely responded when he spoke to her. He drove back to Penhally Bay and collected Freddie from the nursery, and it seemed fitting that his son was in an equally downbeat mood.
He took Freddie home and made his tea, then phoned Lucy for a chat, but he could tell that he’d caught her at a bad moment so he didn’t stay on the phone very long. Freddie was playing with some of his toys, but he turned away when Jack knelt down beside him. He sighed. It seemed that he was persona non grata wherever he went today.
He was heading to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee in the hope it would chase away the blues when the doorbell rang, so he veered off to answer it and was surprised when he found Alison standing outside. She had Sam with her and she looked unusually serious.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you but I’ve just discovered that Sam has nits.’
‘Nits?’ Jack repeated blankly.
‘Yes. One of the other mums told me that she’d found some in her little girl’s hair when I collected Sam from the nursery at lunchtime, so I made a point of checking.’ She grimaced. ‘Apparently, he and Freddie were playing together this morning so I thought I’d better warn you. Once one child gets them, they spread like wildfire.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, thanks for telling me.’
‘That’s all right.’ She turned to leave, but all of a sudden Jack knew that he couldn’t bear to spend the evening with only his thoughts for company.
‘What do you recommend to get rid of them?’ he said hurriedly. He shrugged when she glanced back. ‘I’m not very clued up on head lice, so is it best to buy something from the chemist? Malathion is used in most of the patented lotions, I believe’
‘It is, although I’m not too keen on using such strong chemicals. Whenever I’ve come across a case at work, I’ve always recommended conditioner.’
‘Hair conditioner, you mean?’ Jack’s brows drew together. ‘Does that really work?’
‘Oh, yes. If you apply a thick layer of conditioner to Freddie’s hair after you wash it then you can comb any lice or nits out with a fine-toothed comb.’
‘That sounds a better option than dousing his head in chemicals. Thanks for the tip. As you’ve probably guessed, this is all very new to me,’ he added wryly.
Alison raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ll bet it is. Checking your son’s hair for nits isn’t how you would usually spend your evenings.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jack asked, somewhat puzzled by the comment.
‘Nothing. Forget I said anything.’
She turned to leave again, but he had no intention of letting her go without an explanation. He opened the door wider and stepped back.
‘I can’t forget it now that you’ve said it, can I? Why don’t you come in and tell me over a cup of coffee exactly how I should be spending my evenings. I was just about to put the kettle on when you rang the bell,’ he added when she hesitated.
‘I really can’t see the point,’ she began, but Jack was having none of it. If she had something to say then he wanted to hear it. For some reason he didn’t understand, he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about him.
‘Then do it as a favour. I was sitting here feeling very sorry for myself when you rang the bell, and I could do with cheering up.’
‘Has something happened with Freddie?’ she asked anxiously as she stepped into the hall.
‘Yes and no.’ He shrugged, wondering how to explain that he was feeling rejected because his son hadn’t wanted to play with him.
‘Hmm, that sounds ambiguous enough to be intriguing,’ Alison said lightly. She unzipped Sam’s coat, then ushered him into the sitting room. ‘Go and play with Freddie while Jack and I make some coffee, darling. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’
Jack headed to the kitchen and filled the kettle as the two boys settled down to play with some building blocks. Alison followed him in, grimacing as she took stock of the tired units and chipped worktops.
‘I thought my kitchen was bad, but this is a mess. It looks as though it could do with a complete make-over.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Jack scooped coffee into the cafetière. ‘The whole place needs refurbishing. It’s having the time to get it sorted out that’s the biggest problem.’
‘Are you going to do it? I thought you’d only rented the cottage?’
‘Yes and no.’ He grinned at her. ‘That’s becoming my favourite answer, isn’t it? Sorry. I don’t mean to be so vague. It’s just that everything about my life seems to be up in the air at the moment. It’s hard to give you a definite answer.’
‘It can’t have been easy for you, uprooting your life and moving down here,’ she said, sitting down. ‘I mean, you’ve left your home and all your friends—no wonder it feels as though your life is in turmoil when you’ve had to make so many changes.’
‘It’s not that, exactly.’
He sat down opposite her, feeling his heart give the strangest little flutter when she looked at him with her hazel eyes full of sympathy. Few people had felt the need to sympathise with him. He wouldn’t have thanked them if they had. He prided himself on the fact that he could take care of himself and didn’t need anyone to prop him up, yet it was different when he was with Alison; he felt differently around her.
He chased away that thought and smiled at her, falling back on the charm that had got him through so many tricky situations in the past. ‘I enjoyed living in London, and I doubt I’d have moved away if it hadn’t been for Freddie. But as for missing my friends—well, that really isn’t a major factor.’
‘Are you sure? After all, you led a very hectic social life when you lived in the capital. It’s understandable if you feel bored and restless now that you’ve moved out here.’
‘Ah! Obviously you read all the rubbish that was written about me a few years ago,’ Jack said ruefully. He held out his hands, palms up. ‘What can I say? I had a great time and I enjoyed all the parties, et cetera, but it was only ever one small part of my life. I grew out of that whole scene some time ago, and I don’t miss it either.’
‘No?’
‘No,’ he said firmly when he realised that she didn’t believe him. ‘There’s only so much partying a person can do before it becomes boring. You see the same old faces wherever you go, have the same pointless conversations. It might appear like a fabulous way to live to anyone watching but it’s not really like that, believe me.’
‘Then why did you do it if you didn’t enjoy it?’
‘Oh, I enjoyed it well enough in the beginning,’ he admitted. ‘Going to all those exciting new places and meeting people you’ve only ever seen on television or at the cinema gives you a tremendous buzz at first. Most people find themselves swept away by the glamour of it all.’
‘As you were?’
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘I went a bit mad when I first moved to London—fell in with a crowd whose main aim in life was to enjoy themselves. If I hadn’t had my work then heaven knows what would have happened. It’s what stopped me going off the rails. Especially after I met India.’
‘That’s when most of the articles appeared,’ Alison said softly. She blushed when he looked at her in surprise. ‘I used to buy a lot of the gossip magazines, and you and India featured prominently in them.’
‘You don’t strike me as the sort of person who reads stuff like that,’ Jack said, getting up to pour the coffee. He took the mugs back to the table then fetched the milk and sat down again.
‘Normally I wouldn’t read them, but I was going through a difficult time. They seemed to fill a gap in my life, if that doesn’t sound too silly.’
‘Of course it doesn’t sound silly!’ He put his hand over hers and gently squeezed it, felt his breath catch in the most alarming fashion, and hastily released her. ‘If they helped, great. Don’t feel guilty about it.’
He picked up his mug and took a sip of the scalding-hot brew. He wasn’t going to ask her why her life had been particularly difficult at that point, not if he hoped to keep a grip on his wayward emotions. He was already stressed because of what had happened with Becca and Freddie, and he didn’t think he could cope with anything else—like getting upset on Alison’s behalf.
‘I don’t.’
She lifted the mug to her lips and blew on the coffee to cool it, and Jack felt his insides bunch themselves into knots as he watched her lips purse. From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing a scrap of lipstick, but she didn’t need it to enhance the pouty fullness of her mouth.
Tingles suddenly started to shoot through his body, flashes of electricity that charged every cell, and he buried his face in the steaming mug. He had slept with a number of women in his time, kissed a hell of a lot more and flirted with probably triple that number, but at no time could he recall feeling as keyed-up as he felt right now. The sight of Alison’s lush bare mouth was playing havoc with his senses, stirring them into a bubbling cauldron of desire. He wanted to lean across the table and kiss her, run the tip of his tongue over those soft, delicious lips and taste them, then gently—ever so gently—nibble the lower one. And that was just for starters!
Jack shot to his feet, mumbling something about checking on the boys because it was the first excuse his overloaded brain dredged up. He almost ran out of the kitchen, praying that Alison didn’t suspect what was going on. He couldn’t imagine that she would, not when he was having such difficulty accepting the concept.
He leant against the wall and groaned. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be having lustful thoughts about a woman he barely knew, a woman, to boot, who apparently believed he was some kind of…of dissolute playboy. It was mad, senseless, stupid, ridiculous and every other adjective in between. It simply couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to!
He took a deep breath and turned to go back into the kitchen, then felt the floor ripple beneath his feet when he caught sight of Alison. She was drinking her coffee, and all the feelings he’d experienced before seemed to multiply tenfold as he watched her. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from her mouth as it neared the cup—a small purse of her lips, a tiny puff of cool air, followed by a tentative sip. It was like poetry in motion and he would have been happy to recite the verse for the rest of his life—purse, puff, sip.
Jack quickly closed his eyes. He had no idea what was going on but he had enough to contend with: a child who was so traumatised he wouldn’t speak; problems with his father; a demanding job. He didn’t need or want to add anything else to the equation. He had to stop watching Alison and lusting after her, and get a grip!
Alison put down the cup and looked around the kitchen. It really was a mess, she decided, and if she’d had to live here she would have had to do something about it.
Her gaze skimmed over the cabinets, which had been painted in a particularly vile shade of green, and she shuddered. No wonder Jack was finding it hard to settle into his new life when he had to live in a place like this. Compared to what he had left behind in London—all that glitz and glamour—it must be a shock. Maybe he claimed that he was over the party scene, but she couldn’t believe he didn’t miss all the rest.
It made her wonder how long he would stay in Penhally Bay. She couldn’t see him spending the rest of his life in this quiet little backwater—it was simply a stopgap. At the moment he needed his family’s help to look after Freddie, but once he got used to being a father he would move on, probably return to London and jump right back into the social scene.
It was what Sam’s father, Gareth, had done. He had been brought up in London and had missed city life when he had moved to Cornwall to work. Although Alison had realised when she’d met him that he’d found country living boring, she’d hoped he would adapt in time. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d thought it would help Gareth to put down roots, but it hadn’t worked out that way.
After Sam had been born the situation had grown worse. Gareth hadn’t coped with either the responsibility of being a father or the restrictions of having a new baby to look after. He had left her for another woman when Sam had been six months old and returned to his former life in the city. She’d had no contact with him since. It was upsetting to compare Jack with Gareth and realise they had so much in common.
‘More coffee?’
Jack came back into the kitchen and she started nervously. She shook her head, hoping he couldn’t tell how unsettled she felt. It shouldn’t make a scrap of difference whether Jack stayed in Cornwall or left, but it did.
‘Sure?’ He picked up the cafetière and held it, poised, over her cup.
‘No, this is fine. Thank you,’ she added belatedly.
Jack topped up his mug and sat down, stretching his long legs under the table and accidentally kicking her foot. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured as he lifted the cup to his mouth.
‘It’s OK,’ Alison replied, tucking her feet safely out of the way.
She picked up her own mug, feeling very ill at ease all of a sudden. It had been some time since she’d thought about her ex-husband, and it was worrying to wonder why she had thought about him now. She’d steered clear of relationships since the divorce. It hadn’t been difficult when she’d been so busy looking after Sam and earning enough money to keep them, but there’d been a couple of occasions when she’d been asked out on a date. Each time she had refused.
Although she hadn’t ruled out the idea of meeting someone else, she was wary of making another mistake. If she ever got involved again with a man, she would need a cast-iron guarantee that he wasn’t going to let her down. And a man like Jack Tremayne definitely didn’t come with a warranty. Any woman who got involved with him wouldn’t know what to expect—in or out of bed.
The thought made her blush and she rushed into speech. ‘How are the boys—?’
‘The boys are fine—’
They both spoke at once and both stopped. Jack grinned at her. ‘Ladies first.’
‘I was just going to ask if Sam and Freddie were all right.’
‘They’re fine. They’re playing some sort of complicated game involving lots of cars and building blocks.’ Jack put his mug on the table and sighed. ‘At least Freddie seems to enjoy playing with Sam. He completely blanked me when I offered to play with him earlier. He didn’t want anything to do with me, in fact.’
‘He’s probably still feeling very unsettled,’ Alison said quietly, thinking that the son took after his father in that respect. It was obvious how unsettled Jack was feeling, and the thought simply compounded all her fears about the dangers of getting involved with him.
‘That’s what I keep telling myself.’ Jack gave her a quick smile, then changed the subject. ‘So what would you do with this place if you lived here?’
‘It would depend how long I was planning on staying,’ Alison said cautiously.
‘It isn’t worth spending a huge amount of money if it’s only a temporary arrangement, is it?’
‘Bearing in mind how hard it is to find somewhere to live around here, I can’t see myself moving in the foreseeable future.’
‘No?’ She shrugged, clamping down on the bubble of happiness that had popped up inside her because Jack wasn’t planning on leaving.
‘No. The whole point of coming back here was so that Freddie would have his family around him. I’m certainly not thinking about uprooting him again for a very long time.’
‘In that case, I suppose it depends what you’re allowed to do. The cottage is a holiday let, isn’t it? There must be restrictions on what tenants can do to the property.’
‘It was a holiday let, but it’s been taken off the market now.’ Jack shrugged. ‘It’s owned by a subsidiary company of Whitethorn Holidays.’
‘India’s family business?’ Alison exclaimed.
‘It was. Now it all belongs to Freddie.’
‘You mean that Freddie inherited the company after India died?’
‘Yep. The whole kit and caboodle.’ Jack waved a hand around the kitchen. ‘Including this place. India was an only child, and she left everything in trust to Freddie. He’ll come into his inheritance when he’s twenty-five, although there’s money set aside for his use before then—for school fees, university, that kind of thing.’
‘I had no idea,’ Alison admitted.
‘That’s because I don’t want people making a song and dance about it.’ Jack’s expression was sombre. ‘I want Freddie to grow up like any normal kid and not be burdened by the fact that he’s so wealthy. I firmly believe it was that which led to India going off the rails, and there is no way that I’m going to let the same thing happen to Freddie.’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 1 Page 53