A Jersey Kiss (Jersey Romance Series)

by Georgina Troy

  “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 hot 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.

  “Come on you, don’t be lazy.” She led the way outside towards to the walled garden. Flea stopped and looked up at the trees obviously annoyed by the birds singing so near to him.

  As she stepped back into the kitchen, Bea slipped on her bunny slippers just as someone rapped at the heavy doorknocker.

  “Oh, hi.” She opened the front door surprised to see Luke standing on her doorstep so unexpectedly on a Sunday morning, wishing she’d thought to brush her cloud-like bed hair.

  “I hope I didn’t disturb you,” he asked, eyes twinkling, taking in her fluffy pink slippers.

  She felt her cheeks heat up as she followed his gaze down to the bent pink rabbit ears she secretly loved. “A fun birthday present from Paul.”

  He shook his head. “I know its Sunday, but I was on my way to my boat and thought I’d quickly check exactly what work you still want doing.”

  “But I thought I told you?” Bea said, wondering if she’d missed anything.

  “You did.” He glanced up at the plasterwork. “But it’s a big job and your sister hinted about a few issues with your ex-husband and this place.”

  Bea clenched her teeth together in irritation. Why didn’t Mel mind her business? “I’ll pay your bills, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Luke frowned. “No, of course not. I just didn’t want to put added pressure on you with building work, if you weren’t sure you wanted to carry it out.”

  “I don’t know exactly what you’ve heard, but if I change my mind about your men coming here, I’ll tell you. Okay?” It was too hot to be so angry, Bea decided. She hurriedly tied her hair into a ponytail.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I upset you, it wasn’t intentional.”

  She watched as he looked around the large hallway with its wide staircase that wound around the walls to the first floor, and then to the original black-and-white tiles on the expanse of floor. “Look, I’m sorry if I was rude. I’m not a morning person, as you’ve probably noticed,” Bea said, aware she wasn't being very welcoming. She stepped back. “Please come in.” She pointed down the passage at the back of the hallway towards the kitchen. “Would you like a coffee?”

  Bea made them both a drink.

  “You looked like you were having a lot of fun at the party.” Luke leant against the table appearing more relaxed than Bea felt.

  “Yes, I did have a good time,” she said, the embarrassment of her fall making her toes curl. As Bea passed the mug to him, his fingers grazed her hand lightly, shooting miniscule electric currents throughout her entire body. “I’m not usually that clumsy.”

  “I think they’d polished the floor a little too highly,” he said. Bea wasn’t so sure, but smiled, hoping that is what he’d thought. “I’m looking forward to putting this place in order,” Luke said, leaning against the kitchen table. “It’s a beautiful twenties home and it still has so much of its character left. You’re very lucky to own it.” He held the hot china mug in between his large hands. “It’s a big house for just one person. Wouldn’t you prefer something a bit smaller?”

  Bea shrugged. “I would if this place didn’t hold so many memories for me. It’s more of a home to me than anywhere else has been.”

  “It has a certain charm, I can see why you want to restore it.” Luke looked directly into her eyes. “I couldn’t help noticing the beautiful gardens as I drove up.”

  Bea nodded. “It is pretty amazing. My godmother planted the orchard herself when she first moved here years ago. She sourced so many different plants and trees from her travels over the years. It’s why I’d hate to move so much. All my memories are here, the important ones that is, and I can’t take her garden with me if I have to move.”

  “There aren’t many people your age who are into gardening like you are.” He drank some of his coffee.

  Bea enjoyed his questions. It helped her to think of things that usually only upset her, since Aunt Annabel had died. “Maybe not, but it’s a way of life for me. I can’t imagine not spending time out there. My aunt adored her garden. She put years of her expertise as a garden designer into lovingly restoring it back to how the original owners had planned it, adding her own special extras as she went, of course.”

  “She wasn’t so interested in the house,” Luke smiled. “Did she live here long?”

  “Decades, it was bought for her by her second husband, Antonio. He was an Argentinian polo player. They loved each other very much, although she couldn’t have children, which broke her heart. He bought her this house and encouraged her in her love of gardening.”

  “He died, too?”

  “Years ago; they’d only been married a few years. It was very sad for her. Then my mother died, my father remarried and after a few years they sent me off to boarding school. I was really homesick, so my aunt insisted I came home to Jersey and pretty much took me on. I think it helped her to come to terms with the loss of the two most important people in her life. Well, that’s what my dad seems to think and I have to agree with him.”

  They stood in silence for a few minutes. Bea wondered why she’d been so open with this man about such personal and still painful issues. What was it about him, she wondered.

  “Is that a walled kitchen garden through there?” he asked peering over her shoulder to the wooden French windows half way along the kitchen wall.

  “That’s my favourite place of all. I’ll show you, if you like?” When he nodded, she got up and walked over to push them open, the creaky wooden doors reminding her of another job to add to her To Do list. “These will definitely collapse on me one of these days,” she said, fully aware it wasn't a joke.

  The heat of the morning sun warmed her face even further and she breathed in the sweet scent of rosemary. “My herbs,” she pointed. “The vegetables are along there, all organic of course, and the smaller fruit trees along that wall. Over there’s my aunt’s greenhouse,” she said, wondering why she had bothered stating the obvious to him. “My greenhouse,” she corrected herself.

  He surveyed the area in front of him, his eyebrows raised in what she presumed was an appreciation of what he saw. “Impressive,” he said. “And you look after all this by yourself?” Bea shrugged. “I wouldn’t think you’d have the time, what with holding down a job and doing up the house.”

  “I’m not able to spend as much time as I’d like here, but I catch up on the most urgent things at the weeke
nds. I’m dreading the winter when it’ll get dark so much earlier. I hate the short days.”

  “Maybe, but you've got more than enough to do inside this place to keep you going until the spring,” he said. “You’re very lucky having a home with such character.”

  “I know,” she agreed, ridiculously thrilled he seemed to like the place so much. “I just wish I still had Annabel around to enjoy everything with. She loved this place so much. I’m determined to bring it back to its former glory, even if I end up having to sell in the end.”

  “Why would you sell it?” He picked up a small trowel she’d left on one of the brick pathways and placed it on the rickety metal table in the corner of the small patio. “Is this what your sister meant when she referred to problems with your ex-husband?

  Bea nodded. “I might not have a choice about selling. My ex-husband wants me to buy him out, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to raise enough money to do so.”

  Luke looked up from the raised vegetable border and frowned. “That would be a pity. I hope you can sort something out.”

  “Me, too.” She picked up her dented metal watering can and filled it at the tap, showering the bases of her plants. “How about you, where do you live?”

  “If you saw where I lived, you’d never believe I was in the building trade,” he laughed. “It’s a disgrace.”

  “Why?” She straightened up, not sure why she was surprised. “Surely you have all the know-how and contacts to do any work you need?”

  “True, but I don’t seem to have the time,” he admitted. He pushed his fringe back from his tanned face. “I’ve got so much work lined up and,” he hesitated, “I’m a bit snowed under, which is why I’m here calling in on you on a Sunday.”

  So, that was why he decided to visit her at such an irregular time. “Where do you live?”

  “Near St Catherine’s wood.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Mine is only a small granite cottage though, but it’s in a leafy area, quite quirky from the outside, and almost uninhabitable. So I’m living on a boat for the time being.”

  Bea could picture him on a boat and liked the idea. “Sounds fun. I don’t know how you manage to fit all your belongings into a boat though?” she asked, making him laugh.

  “Probably because I don't have that many things to store; few shoes and no handbags.”

  Bea liked the sound of his laugh. He seemed so carefree for once, and it suited him. Resisting a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, she turned away and picked up their mugs to take them back inside.

  FOUR

  August - Sowing the Seed

  “It’s so hot out here,” complained Paul much later, fanning his face with an old notepad as she silently sowed tiny seeds into compost-filled trays in the small greenhouse. “Do you have to do that now?”

  “Stop moaning. You know I do. Why don’t you go and wait for me in the house?” She looked over at him and smiled. “Anyone would think you were going somewhere special in that outfit.”

  “What, this old thing?” He winked, holding his arms out and turning around for her. “I thought you’d like it.”

  She loved his baby blue t-shirt, but it wasn’t exactly the right sort of top for a dusty greenhouse. “You know I can’t wait to hear all about your visitor and you’ll only forget the time like you always do when you come out here, then I won’t end up hearing the more interesting details,” he moaned. Paul stepped outside and continued fanning himself. “Hurry up, before I melt out here.”

  “I told you, there isn’t anything to tell. So be quiet and let me get on with this.”

  “I thought we could go out for a quiet lunch, somewhere away from paint pots and peat bags.”

  “Sorry, I can’t,” she said, trying to concentrate as best she could on only placing one seed into each of the tiny sections of the black plastic container. “Anyway where’s Shani today? I didn’t think she had any classes on a Sunday?”

  “She’s gone out with this new bloke of hers. Harry-someone-or-other. Besotted she is. I offered to join them, but she told me to bugger off.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Bea said, throwing him a washed ice-lolly stick and biro. “Here, write ‘Beetroot’ on that for me, would you? Then you can come with me to buy paint for the house.” Paul grimaced. “Choosing paint can be fun, you know?” Bea laughed. “Although, I can see by your expression that you wouldn’t be interested in helping me with the prep work I need to do on the bathroom and box room tonight then?”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’ve got a good bottle of red waiting for me back at the flat and it’s going to need my attention far more than your decorating.”

  ****

  Bea almost fell through her front door the following day after a long day at work. She managed not to drop the shopping bags weighing her down, and kicked the door closed behind her with the heel of her court shoe. Immediately, she noticed a large white envelope in the wire basket attached to the back of the door and put the bags down on the floor resting them against the wall. Taking a deep breath, Bea ripped open the envelope. Luke’s quotation was lower than she had feared it may be. She suspected he was being a bit too charitable for his own good. After reading it through several times and debating for a little longer, she knew her conscience shouldn't let her accept the amount. She picked up the phone to give him a call. “Luke, hi, it’s Bea.”

  “Bea,” he said. “So you've received my quotation, then?”

  “Yes, thank you and I’d like to accept it. Although, I’m sure it’s more reasonable than it probably should be.”

  “Not at all. How soon can you have all the prep work done?” he asked more business-like than she had expected. She felt a little foolish for being so casual on the phone in the first place.

  “Um, well, your men can start on the bathroom as soon as they like.” She quickly tried to estimate how long it would take her to do the work needed on the box room. “I can concentrate on the others in my free time, and will make sure I'm finished for whenever your men are ready to start work on them.”

  “Great, I’ll have two men up at your place tomorrow. Will 8 o'clock be ok?”

  “Perfect. Thank you.” She hurriedly rang off with the distinct feeling she had been dismissed. Bea stared at the phone for a moment. As she caught sight of the rickety banister, she was reminded of a pair of fiercely blue eyes and the hairs on the back of her neck instantly stood up. Whether this was from some sort of lust or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell – she’d lost count of the years that had passed since her last real “first date”. Dating was something in her hazy past, like bad perms and Now! compilation albums and maybe it should just be left there.

  Bea carried her shopping bags into the kitchen and unpacked everything before going to get her hammer and chisel-like tool to begin removing the ugly chocolate coloured tiles from the house bathroom. She found it hard to imagine her godmother ever thinking they were tasteful. With one wall finished, Bea brushed the dust from her hair and got into the shower. “I must be clinically insane to attempt to do all this.”

  Two men in a white van arrived at exactly eight o’clock the next morning. They followed Bea, silently as she led them out to the disused stables at the back of the house. “You’ll find the bathroom suites in there,” she said. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll get round to clearing all the junk out one of these days.

  “No problem, love,” the older of the two men assured her. “You leave us to it. Luke has explained everything.”

  “It’s looking great,” she told Luke when he came to check the work later on, relieved that she’d showered and changed in to her favourite summer dress and sandals. “I didn’t expect for them to work on a Saturday, too.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds. “They’re good blokes and both happy for the overtime. You need to get the house sorted and I thought it best if they came today, to get as much done as possible.”

  “Thank you. Would you like a coffee or a something cold?”

&
nbsp; “Coffee for me, thanks.” He followed her down the stairs and through to the cool kitchen.

  Luke tilted his head down to her level and kissed her, causing Bea's next thought to be extinguished from her consciousness.

  “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he apologised, looking anything but. “You look so pretty with your hair up and those loose blonde strands over your cheeks.”

  Bea attempted to tuck some of the hair behind her ears. “My ex-husband always thought I looked better in suits and high heels,” she said, unable to think straight at this unexpected turn of events.

  “Then he's a fool.” He leaned forward and kissed her once again. This time Bea responded instinctively.

  “I come bearing gifts,” Shani shouted from the hallway. “I thought you could do with some chocolate digestives. We’ll put them in the fri...”

  Shocked, Bea stiffened and stepped back. He walked to the other side of the kitchen as Shani entered the room.

  “Hello, there.” Shani widened her eyes and pulled a face at Bea. “I didn’t realise you had company.” She strode purposefully into the kitchen. Dropping the Saturday papers onto the worn pine table and kicking off her flip-flops as she sat down, she crossed one long tanned leg over the other. Shani glanced from Luke and back to Bea, raising an eyebrow at Bea. She held out the packet of biscuits. “These need to go in the fridge.”

  “You remember Shani from the party, don’t you?”

  Luke smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

  “Phew, it’s hot.” Shani smiled at him, her lips drawing back into a wide smile as she arched an eyebrow.

  Bea thought she was enjoying their obvious discomfort a little too enthusiastically. “Shani.”

  “Well, it is,” she argued. “It must be getting on for 29 degrees out there.” She turned so Luke couldn’t see her and winked at Bea. “You look pretty today.”

  “She does, doesn’t she?” he said quietly, glancing at his watch barely able to hide the hint of a smile. “I’d better be off.” He placed his mug on the draining board. “See you on Monday, Bea. Nice to see you again.” He nodded politely at Shani, who for once, Bea noted, didn’t come out with a quick retort. “Don’t worry,” he told Bea, as she went to follow him, “I’ll see myself out.”