Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

“We noticed,” Siobhan said. “Finn looked a bit done for.”

  “But choice,” one of the other mums put in. A general laugh greeted the comment.

  “We all enjoy Mondays,” Siobhan grinned. “Do you know everyone, though?” She introduced Jenna to the four or five women around her. “Jenna’s a Year One teacher, normally, did you know?” she told them. “I’ve taken shameful advantage of her expertise. Palming my kids off on her.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Jenna protested. “You took Sophie and Harry last week.”

  “Only out of shame,” Siobhan declared. “I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “Pity the Blues lost this weekend,” a woman named Clarice offered. She was the mum of a boy in Sophie’s class, Jenna realized. Danny, she thought. “We were hoping to see them in the final.”

  “We were hoping to see Finn,” Monique, a pretty brunette, corrected. “Our local celebrity.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Clarice offered tartly. “I was watching the footy.”

  The other women scoffed in disbelief. “I didn’t notice you running away when he brought the kids yesterday,” Monique pointed out.

  “I wanted to congratulate him on a good game,” Clarice said heatedly.

  “He did play well, didn’t he?” Jenna put in hastily. “I know they were all so disappointed to lose. But it does give him a rest. It’ll be hard on the Crusaders on the All Black squad. Playing in the final next weekend and then going into training straightaway.”

  “I never thought of that,” Clarice said thoughtfully.

  “Though I know he’d rather be tired, and play,” Jenna said with a smile. “Any of them would. Guess that’s the way it goes.”

  “Must be an interesting job, yours,” Monique said enviously.

  Jenna laughed. “Well, not so much. Cooking, housework, looking after kids.”

  “Exactly like my life,” Monique agreed. “Except that you get a day off, and no questions asked, eh. That’d be nice.”

  “None of the real responsibilities of kids,” Clarice put in. “And you get paid for what you do. Lucky you. Want to trade places?”

  Jenna flushed and shifted awkwardly, unable to think of a retort.

  “I need to get Ethan to kindy,” Siobhan broke in. “Come on, Jenna. Walk me.” She pulled Jenna away from the group, set a brisk pace that had Ethan complaining.

  “Sorry, darling,” she told him, slowing down after they’d crossed the road.

  “She didn’t mean it, you know,” she said to Jenna. “Not thinking, that’s all.”

  “What?” Jenna asked, startled.

  “When she said you were lucky,” Siobhan clarified. “She can be a bit tactless. And she’s jealous.”

  “Was it obvious?” Jenna faltered.

  “I hope you haven’t been considering a career shift, becoming a poker player,” Siobhan smiled. “Because you’d be rubbish. No worries, though. It’s just because I know you.”

  “Jealous, though,” Jenna said. “That’s a laugh. Being a nanny isn’t exactly a glamour job.”

  “You haven’t seen her husband.” Siobhan shuddered theatrically. “Nightmare. Belly out to there.”

  “Come on,” she urged. “Walk Ethan to kindy with me, go for a coffee. I need a treat.”

  “Thank goodness you’re here.” Maggie, the Year One teacher Jenna had been assisting, said with relief when Jenna joined her in the teachers’ lounge of Mangere Primary during lunch the following Monday. “I can really use your help today. The school’s having a visit from a few of the All Blacks, and I’ve got a room full of wound-up five-year-olds. I’m not looking forward to this afternoon.”

  “What’s involved? And how can I help?” Jenna asked.

  “They’ll be having a chat with the students first, then going out to the field for a bit of rugby practice. We’ve got it pretty well organized, but I could do with another supervisor.”

  The children were every bit as excited as Maggie had predicted. And when she announced that it was time to go, their anticipation became even more intense. Jenna walked at the tail of the queue of Year One students as they made their way to the auditorium and arranged themselves cross-legged on the floor directly in front of the stage.

  Once they were settled, she stood against the wall to one side and watched the big room fill up with the older pupils.

  “Quite a day.”

  She turned at the words, smiling a welcome to Ian Foster, one of the Year Five teachers. “It is,” she agreed. “Who exactly are they sending, have you heard?”

  “Not sure. Three or four of them, anyway.”

  Somehow, Jenna wasn’t surprised when the doors to the auditorium opened and Finn led the procession of four players who leaped up the steps to the stage to thunderous applause from the students and a welcoming speech from the head of the school. It made sense that the Auckland-based players would be making this local appearance. And she knew what a soft spot Finn had for children. She was proud to know him as she witnessed his easy rapport with the kids, his joking good humor that had both students and teachers laughing.

  She saw the moment he became aware of her, his eyes meeting hers in surprised recognition before he turned back to answer a question about a teammate’s pinup status.

  “Yeh, I know the girls are rapt to have Koti here. Me,” he sighed regretfully, “I’m a bit bashed about by now. The old beak’s been broken a fair few times. But if any of you kids need help with your tackling, you’ll want to see me for that. Because everyone knows the forwards do all the real work.”

  When the athletes filed off the stage to head outside, Finn muttered a quick word to one of the other players, then made his way toward Jenna as the head began to explain the second half of the day’s program to her eager audience.

  “Moonlighting?” he asked quietly. “Doesn’t your employer pay you enough?”

  “Volunteering,” she corrected. “My employer pays just fine. Oh, this is Ian Foster, one of the teachers here. Ian, Finn Douglas.”

  “Gidday,” Finn said, giving the other man a firm handshake and a quick once-over. “See you outside, Jenna?”

  She nodded. “With the little ones.”

  “I’ll take care to get myself assigned there, then,” he told her before he left to catch up with his teammates.

  Jenna saw Maggie beginning to get the class up. “Here we go,” she said to Ian. “See you later.”

  During the session that followed, Jenna could see all the years of working with Sophie in Finn’s encouraging instruction as he ran lines with the Year Ones, offloading the ball gently, reaching to catch their own wobbly passes in one big hand. She had to laugh to witness their version of touch rugby, Finn matching himself against five eager students, the excitement when he deliberately missed his mark and a little girl danced past him to score a try.

  “How do you know him?” Ian asked, coming up to join her again and following the direction of her gaze.

  “Hmm? Finn?” she asked, still smiling. “I’m his nanny and housekeeper. His kids’ nanny, I mean. Just for now, the rest of the year.”

  “Huh.” Ian frowned as Finn accepted the help of several children to get to his feet from where he lay sprawled on the grass after his failed “tackle” and made his way toward Jenna again.

  “Disappointing,” she told him severely, watching him brush grass from his black Adidas track pants. “I hope your defense is going to be stronger than that in Perth, or I’m not watching.”

  He laughed, his eyes sliding towards the man on her left. “Think you’ll find I rise to the occasion. Looks like we’re finishing up here, so I’ll say goodbye. See you at home. Good to meet you, Ian.”

  Jenna watched him trot off, then turned to Ian with a smile. “He’s a really good guy. You wouldn’t know it from watching him play, though, would you?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said stiffly. “I don’t watch much rugby.”

  “I never did either, before,” she confessed. “But I’ve learne
d a lot about it recently, and it’s surprisingly enjoyable. I need to go on and help Maggie, though. See you next week?”

  “Yeh,” he said. “See you.”

  “What a surprise to have you turn up today,” she told Finn after they had put the kids to bed that evening and were chatting comfortably in the kitchen. “I had no idea you were doing that.”

  “Community relations. I like the school visits, tend to volunteer for those. We’re all expected to do our bit, but we do get a choice. Talking of surprises, though, I had no idea you were doing that either. Going into the school to help out. Isn’t it a bit much, after working all week?”

  “This job isn’t exactly onerous,” she pointed out, “especially when the kids are in school. The volunteering’s been fun, and it gets me out. Gives me a chance to meet some new people.”

  “I noticed the new people. Specially that bloke Ian. He fancies you, eh.”

  “He does not! He’s just being friendly.”

  Finn laughed. “Yeh, right. He’s never invited you for a coffee?” He interpreted her expression correctly. “He has. Ha. I knew it.”

  “A couple times,” she said defensively. “Just for a chat. Just friends.”

  “Uh-huh. Friends.”

  “He’d have asked me out for more than coffee, if he were interested.”

  “Nah. He’s too weedy to make a move that fast,” Finn said dismissively. “It’s been . . . what? Two coffees?” At her reluctant nod, he went on. “Next week, he’ll ask you out. Not for dinner, though. Too scary. For lunch, maybe. Over another coffee.”

  “That isn’t fair. Anyone would seem weedy next to you. Most men don’t have your self-assurance, either. Anyway, just because he enjoys chatting with me, that doesn’t mean he wants to take me out.”

  “What time is it? Gone nine? He’s thinking about you right now.”

  “I saw. I know,” he insisted at her shake of the head. “Give me credit for that much, anyway. I know what blokes think about. He’s imagining you naked.” He took a sip of his beer and nodded in satisfied certainty.

  “Finn! Completely inappropriate.”

  He held up his hands. “Sorry. But somebody has to look out for you. You’re like a baby out there. Though I don’t think you’re in too much danger from that fella. Bet he lives with his mum.”

  “No,” she admitted. “His sister.”

  He pointed his beer bottle at her in triumph as they both burst into laughter.

  “You realize you’ve now eliminated any chance of my saying yes,” she complained. “If that ever does happen.”

  “What a pity,” he intoned with his best sincere expression. Then grinned at her again.

  “So how was school today?” Finn asked her the following Monday evening. “Volunteer day, right?”

  “Right. It was good. Looks like they’ll have a vacancy for a Year One teacher in the new year. I’m thinking of applying.”

  “Bit of a challenge, Mangere,” he said mildly. “Quite a mix of kids they have out there. New arrivals, limited English. All the Islander kids too. Not like Mt. Eden.”

  “I can handle it. I’m a pretty good teacher, you know.”

  “I believe it. Third coffee date too, eh,” he added slyly.

  “Yes. And you were right.” She laughed. “Sunday lunch, just as you predicted.”

  “I’m good,” he admitted modestly. “Not really, though. I could see that one coming well down the track. What did you say?”

  “I said yes. Then I took him into the supply cupboard and we had passionate sex. None of your business, and you know it.”

  “True. But I’m glad you said no.”

  She scowled at him. “It’s really your fault. You shouldn’t have said the weedy thing. Because I couldn’t help noticing that his arms were kind of . . .” she trailed off.

  “Spindly,” he offered helpfully. “Nah. He wasn’t your type anyway.”

  Jenna tried not to look at the size of his own arms as he sat with his elbows on the table, picking at the label of his beer bottle. The comparison wasn’t really fair, after all. Ian hadn’t thought so, anyway.

  “I know I’m not an All Black,” he had said in frustration when Jenna had declined his invitation, as gently as she knew how. “But I do have something to offer, all the same.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” she asked in surprise.

  “I saw how you looked at Finn Douglas last week. I was hoping I was wrong. But it’s clear to me now that I wasn’t.”

  “Finn’s my employer,” Jenna told him sharply. “I’m looking after his kids. And I take that responsibility very seriously.”

  “I know what I saw,” Ian said stubbornly. “And a sportsman like that isn’t a good bet, not for someone like you. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “Ian. I’m not going to have this conversation, or to try to convince you that you’re wrong. And I’m sorry to say no. It’s not you. It’s just that I’m not in a position to be doing that right now. Dating.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me.” He smiled bitterly. “I’ve heard that one before. Never mind.” He shrugged into his jacket and rose to leave the cafe. “Whatever you’re telling me, or yourself for that matter, I have a pretty fair idea of what you’re after. And I’ll just say, good luck with that. Because you’re going to need it.”

  “I’m not sure what my type is anymore,” Jenna confessed to Finn now. “But I’m pretty sure the guy has to weigh more than me.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think Ian had any complaints. In fact, I can tell you with fair certainty that he liked the way you look.”

  “It’s not really fair of you to criticize my potential partners anyway,” she complained. “I never said anything about your choice. Even though I may have been tempted.”

  “True. You didn’t. Go on, though. Tell me how I can choose better next time.”

  “Well, you did fairly well in the looks department,” she was forced to admit. “I can’t really say much there.”

  “I dunno. I’d like to find someone who eats. I’m tired of watching women push a lettuce leaf round their plate while I scoff down my tea.”

  “I should point out, in all fairness, that there aren’t many models or TV presenters who eat a lot,” she told him. “Unless they’re bulimic, of course. And that doesn’t seem real attractive, at least not to me.”

  “You’re probably right,” he conceded. “But I reckon someone who ate a bit more might be a better cook as well.”

  “Yeah, the kids told me about Ashley’s dinner party,” Jenna said with a smile.

  “That’s another one. Somebody who actually likes my kids would be good. Who could at least have a conversation with them. I don’t much enjoy the uneasy feeling that they’re researching boarding schools.”

  Chapter 12

  Jenna grabbed for her phone as she gently folded the scrambled eggs in the pan. “Hello? Oh, hi, Nat.”

  She cradled the phone between neck and shoulder, brought the pan over to the table, and dished up three servings: two small, and one extra-large. Smiled apologetically at Finn and went back to the kitchen bench to butter toast as she continued her conversation.

  “Thanks. I’m fixing breakfast right now, but I appreciate you taking the time to call, especially while you’re away. . . . Yeah, it’s the big one. Thirty. Oh, well. Beats the alternative, right? Talk to you soon. And thanks again.”

  She delivered the toast to the table. “Sorry about that. My friend Natalie is on holiday in Aussie, and she wanted to catch me while she could.”

  “No worries,” Finn said. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but is it your birthday, by any chance?”

  “It isn’t eavesdropping when the person’s talking right in front of you. And yeah, it’s my birthday. Thirty. Zero on the end and everything.”

  “Daddy says it’s not polite to ask grownups how old they are,” Sophie told her.

  “He’s right,” Jenna said. “But I just told you, and there’s no
thing wrong with you knowing. I’m thirty years old today.”

  “Happy birthday,” Finn said. “What are you going to do to celebrate?”

  Jenna smiled ruefully. “No plans. It’s not my day off anyway. But, yeah. No plans.”

  “That’s not right,” he objected. “At least you shouldn’t have to cook dinner. You can go out if you like. I’ll fix something.” He ignored the groans of dismay from Sophie and Harry. “Or better yet, we’ll all go out to the pub.”

  “That’s a good plan, Dad,” Sophie agreed. “We like the pub.”

  “And we don’t like your cooking,” Harry pointed out unnecessarily.

  “Not polite,” Jenna told him. “But if you mean it, Finn, then yes, I’d like to go to the pub.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t rather go out? Without us? You may not do Harry’s tastebuds any favors, but you won’t hurt our feelings,” Finn assured her.

  “Unfortunately, with Natalie gone, I wouldn’t have much to do,” Jenna admitted. “Sad, but there you go. I haven’t been in Auckland long enough to make many friends.”

  This would be her second birthday on her own, without Jeremy. Last year, it had been hard, but she’d got through it with the help of a couple girlfriends. She hadn’t been looking forward to this one. What was it about birthdays? Maybe that it was supposed to be your own special day. But if there was nobody around to tell you that you were special . . . it just seemed to spell that out for you.

  “The pub it is,” Finn pronounced. “And I’ll take the kids for a bit beforehand. Give you some time to yourself, at any rate. I should be home around three. Short practice day, Captain’s Run. We’ll leave at six, if that suits you.”

  “That’s fine,” Jenna said. She’d have a bath, she decided. And dress up just a bit. It was her birthday, after all. She began to feel much more cheerful about the whole thing.

  “No cake, even on your birthday?” Finn asked as they placed their dessert orders.

  “Phew. No, thanks. I’ve had plenty to eat. I’ll take a decaf trim flat white, though,” she told their server.

  “Whoa. Living large,” Finn commented.