Wallowing wouldn’t help anything, and it certainly wouldn’t get the tractor repaired. ‘If you want to follow me out to the yard, we can get started?’ They dumped their mugs in the sink and trooped out the back. One look at the state of the tractor and bowser both covered in dust and mud had Jack hanging his head in shame, and he hurried forward to uncouple the bowser and tow it out of the way.
Neither Paul nor Pops seemed to note anything amiss as they slowly circled the tractor. Eyes bright with excitement, Paul placed a hand on the engine cover and grinned at his dad. ‘She’s a beauty, eh, Pops?’
‘She sure is. Let’s have a look at what’s inside, shall we?’
Jack showed them where the release mechanism was, then opened the hatch to a pair of admiring whistles and stepped back to give them room to look. Heads almost touching, they muttered and murmured to themselves, and Jack decided to leave them to it for a few minutes. Crossing the yard, he grabbed the hosepipe and proceeded to rinse the dirt off the bowser then opened the drainage tap at the rear to allow the dregs of remaining water inside to drain out.
Glancing over, he saw they were still bent over the tractor’s engine and was about to carry on with his clean up when he noticed Pops sway slightly. Hurrying back, he placed a light hand on the older man’s shoulder. ‘Everything all right?’
Pops glared at him, then his expression softened with a sigh. ‘My old knees aren’t what they used to be, lad, but no need to fret.’
Jack watched Pops shift uncomfortably for a second, then had an idea. ‘Be right back.’ He strode around the side of the house and across the driveway towards the distillery. Unlocking the door with one of the ever-present keys clipped to his belt, Jack paused on the threshold as a wave of lavender-scented air rolled over him. His shoulders loosened, releasing tension he hadn’t been aware of until it began to fade, and he couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, the aromatic smell of the plants they processed in there had seeped into the very fabric of the building. Collecting what he’d come for, Jack secured the door and returned to the yard.
‘Here, how about this?’ He plonked one of the tall stools they used when sorting out the cut lavender stalks ready for drying behind Pops and stepped back with a grin. He nodded at the stool when Pops glanced around. ‘I think it’s just about the right height for you to be able to see, why don’t you try it out?’
They moved the stool until it rested right against the edge of the tractor. Jack held his walking stick whilst Pops eased himself up onto the wooden seat, then tucked it between the legs out of the way. ‘Ah,’ Pops closed his eyes on a sigh. ‘That’s better, thanks, lad. I tell you, the worst thing about growing old is my mind and body being out of sync with each other.’ He settled himself a bit more centrally on the seat. ‘Right then, why don’t you run through exactly what happened with the tractor yesterday?’
Paul raised his eyes briefly from his study of the engine. ‘Before you start, have you got a manual for this handy?’
Jack nodded. ‘I’ve downloaded one on my tablet, hold on…’ He jogged inside and grabbed the large flat-screened device from the counter top. Returning, he located the file and opened it before handing the tablet to Pops.
‘No good to me with these useless claws.’ Pops waved a gnarled hand at him.
‘Here, like this.’ Jack showed him how to zoom in and out with a basic pincer movement on the screen. ‘You can drag the image around too, just pull down on the screen with your finger, and swipe across to get the next page.’
Tentatively at first—and then with more confidence—Pops began to navigate his way around the manual. When he looked up, his blue eyes were shining. ‘This is bloody fantastic.’
Jack nodded. ‘It’s a life-saver. Mum and I use it for everything when we’re on the go. The only thing we use the PC for these days is doing the accounts.’
Paul straightened up, arms folded across his chest. ‘Remember when Annie wanted to buy you one of these for Christmas and you dismissed it as new-fangled nonsense, Pops?’
Pops hefted the device between his hands. ‘I thought it’d be a lot heavier than this. And you can read books on it, too?’
‘For sure. There’s loads of apps you can download for that. You can change the font and the text size to suit whatever you like. This one has a stand, too, if you get tired of holding it.’ Jack took it back briefly to show Pops how the front of the cover could be bent to support the tablet.
The old man grinned over at his son. ‘It’s my birthday soon…’
Paul shook his head, but he was grinning too. ‘Message received and understood.’
They spent the next hour running through the daily and monthly maintenance schedules Jack followed, checking everything was in order and helping Paul to familiarise himself with the detailed workings of the engine. Working methodically, they proceeded to strip individual parts, giving everything a thorough clean as they went. The dry weather conditions had generated a lot of dust, and whether they found a fault or not it would do no harm to make sure everything was pristine.
‘Right, we’re happy with all the points and connections, so I say we check the hoses next.’ Jack nodded in agreement and went to fetch a large bucket of water whilst Paul carefully removed them. They crouched over the bucket and tested the thick rubber tubes by immersing each section. The first proved fine, but a stream of telltale bubbles appeared halfway along the second.
‘Bloody hell,’ Jack dried off the hose on his shirt then studied the damaged section. There was nothing visible to the naked eye, but a second dip in the bucket produced the same result.
‘That’s the culprit, no doubt about it,’ Pops said from his perch on the high stool.
‘More than likely, Pops,’ Paul agreed. ‘But, if Jack’s happy to carry on, I say we should check everything else to be on the safe side.’
Jack nodded. ‘If you’re sure you’ve got the time, then that’d be fantastic. I’ll give the garage a call and see if I can get a replacement hose. I’d rather do that than try and patch it. Especially if this heat’s going to continue.’
Paul clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’ve got all the time in the world, son.’ He pushed himself to his feet, and his breath seemed to catch on an ugly wheeze. Bracing one hand on the tractor, Paul began to cough—a painful, wrenching sound that made Jack’s throat ache to hear it.
Helpless, Jack looked over at Pops who shook his head as though to indicate Jack shouldn’t try to help. The old man slipped down off the stool, and Jack stepped back out of the way as he moved towards his son. ‘Why don’t you get us a cold drink, lad?’
Grateful for something to do, Jack rushed into the kitchen to grab a couple of bottles of water and cans of soft drink. When he returned, Paul was half-sitting on the stool, puffing on a blue inhaler. Pops leaned against his walking stick, his head close to his son’s, murmuring something too soft for Jack to catch. Both men smiled at him as he offered them a choice of drinks. Paul took a bottle of water and drained a third of it before letting out a few slow, steady breaths. ‘Sorry about the fuss.’
Jack waved him off, a can of soda clutched in his hand. ‘No fuss, as long as you’re all right.’
Paul snorted. ‘I’m as all right as I’m going to be. Now my lungs are half-knackered, I spend half my days sat on my arse and it drives me up the bloody wall. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to get my hands dirty. I forgot myself for a minute and moved too fast, that’s all.’
He tried to stand up, but Pops pressed a hand to his chest to keep him in place. ‘What did I just say to you? There’s nothing to prove so rest up for a few minutes. I need to get these old legs of mine working a bit anyway.’ Straightening up, he pointed the end of his walking stick at Jack. ‘Why don’t you call the garage, lad, while I do a couple of laps of the yard to loosen up these stiff old joints of mine? By the time we’re both finished I reckon we’ll all be ready to start again.’
Grateful to escape, Jack re
-entered the kitchen, pulled out a chair and slumped into it, his knees suddenly shaky. He closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms into them. Watching Paul go from hale and hearty, to grey-faced and struggling for breath had shaken him to the core.
It only took a split second for things to change forever. Hadn’t his dad seemed fine at breakfast the day he’d dropped like a stone in one of the fields from a massive heart attack? And Jason…God, Jason. The image of his brother’s laughing face burned behind Jack’s closed lids, and a shudder rippled through him.
‘Hold it together, come on…come on…’ Jack whispered over and over until the worst of the shakes subsided. Paul was okay. He’d been speaking, hadn’t he? And Pops hadn’t seemed overly concerned about it. By the time Jack went back outside, no doubt he’d be right as rain. All he needed to do was get up and walk through the door to see for himself.
It was another five minutes before Jack could persuade himself to leave the chair, and he took his time over the call to the garage. The rational part of his brain told him he was being foolish, and yet he kept his back turned firmly to the open door, not quite ready to look outside. Thankfully, the garage had a spare hose in stock, so he requested it be put aside for him to collect that afternoon and the cost added to his account. Feeling more grounded, Jack straightened his shoulders and forced himself to venture back outside.
Relief flooded him to see Paul had regained the colour in his cheeks, and his breathing had settled down to a normal rate. Pops was still wandering the yard, pausing to look at whatever caught his eye, seemingly in no hurry to re-join them. Leaning back against the tractor, Jack tucked his still shaking hands behind him and tried to look casual.
‘I didn’t mean to put the wind up you, Jack. You look like you’ve seen a ghost..’ Paul leant forward to place a hand on Jack’s arm.
A ragged laugh escaped him. ‘I did, sort of. Well, two actually…’ Damn, why had he said that? He shrugged one shoulder, hoping to dismiss the comment. ‘Don’t mind me, let’s get this finished, shall we?’
Paul didn’t remove his hand, leaving Jack the choice of pulling away, or submitting to the tenderness he could feel through the older man’s grip. His eyes flicked to Paul’s, skittering away at the sympathy and understanding written deep in them. ‘I’m all right,’ he muttered, fooling neither of them.
Paul cleared his throat, then spoke softly. ‘I know I’m not much more than a stranger to you, but if you need someone to talk to…I keep thinking how it’d be if my Sam was in your shoes—and Christ, he nearly was a couple of months ago. I’d want someone to notice. Someone to reach out and let him know he wasn’t alone.’
Jack shook his head, denying the words he was hearing. Denying the comfort and care his soul cried out for contained in the big-hearted man beside him. ‘I don’t have time.’ The words choked in his throat.
‘Time for what?’ Paul left his seat to stand directly in front of Jack, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders. ‘Time to talk? Time to grieve? Ah, son, you’ll make yourself ill if you try and keep it all inside.’
His hands pressed so hard against the metal of the tractor, his fingers ached. Jack pushed harder still, fighting to keep from reaching out. ‘They need me to hold it together.’ He managed to grind the words out through his stiff jaw. ‘There’s too much to do…after the harvest…’
‘All right, son. I’ve said my piece and I’ll leave it at that, but don’t ever be afraid to ask for help if you need it. No man is an island as someone much wiser than me once said.’ Paul stepped back. ‘Right then, who’s up for another cup of tea?’
Pops rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ll never say no to a brew. Reckon you can scare us up a biscuit to go with it, lad?’
Jack relaxed his death-grip on the tractor and let the tension melt from his body. ‘I can do one better than that, Pops. Mum baked a Madeira cake yesterday.’
‘Now you’re talking, lad, now you’re talking.’
When Paul laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder as they walked back towards the kitchen, Jack resisted the urge to shrug it off. No man is an island.
Chapter Seven
Eliza tamed her unruly curls into a long pair of plaits that trailed to the middle of her shoulders, then fumbled around in the small make-up bag on her dressing table. Locating her tried-and-tested mineral foundation powder, she swept a thin layer over her pale skin with a large, soft brush. She regarded the freckles scattered across her nose with a sigh, then added another layer of the powder. The heatwave might be great for business around the bay, but if the sun continued to beat down like this, her entire face would turn into a freckle. At least the foundation contained a built in SPF sunscreen and she’d make sure to have a hat with her. A quick flash of pale, rose-pink blusher and a sweep of mascara to darken her sandy lashes, and she was done.
She snatched up the green cotton shirt from where it draped over the end of her bed and slipped it on over the white vest top she’d teamed with a pair of her oldest, most comfortable jeans. Leaving the top few buttons undone, she slipped her feet into a pair of brightly-patterned Skechers slip-on loafers and looped a delicate infinity scarf covered in pastel butterflies she’d found in the emporium the previous week around her neck. With a large straw sunhat in hand, she left her room and headed down the back stairs.
Popping her head into the bar area, she paused to watch her parents for a moment. His morning spent helping Jack had put a spring in her dad’s step, just as she’d hoped and eased something inside him. It had only been a couple of days, but she’d already sensed he was more relaxed, less ready to jump to offence if anyone tried to help him. Perched on a stool at the bar, he had the order file in front of him as her mum checked the stocks.
The familiar scene brought an unexpected lump to her throat, and she had to clear it before she could call out to them. ‘Right, I’m off.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to add a caveat that she would stay if they needed her, but that seemed an act of hubris considering how many years of experience they had running the place. Besides, she really wanted a day off. Spending time back behind the bar of The Siren was wonderful, but she yearned for some fresh air and a bit of peace and quiet.
Her mum looked up with a smile. ‘Have a nice time, lovey, I can’t wait to hear all about it. I’ve always been curious about how things work up there.’
‘They’ve got a great set-up from the bit I saw of it,’ her dad added. ‘Jack should think about having an open day.’
‘I’ll tell him you said so,’ Eliza said with a teasing laugh in her voice. Give her dad an inch, and he’d take a mile. If Jack wasn’t careful, Paul Barnes would be offering him all sorts of unasked for advice. She checked her watch. ‘I’ll see you later.’ With a wave she left them to it and headed through the yard to wait in the alley behind the pub. When she’d collected her dad and Pops, she realised they must’ve had a conversation about the family only having the one car as Jack had mentioned he had an errand to run in town and would be happy to pick her up.
She checked her watch again, then pulled her phone out of her back pocket to double-check the time. It was silly to be nervous, it wasn’t like they were having a date or anything. Wood creaked behind her, and Eliza glanced over her shoulder to see Beth pull open the rear gate securing the yard behind the emporium. Clutching a large, ceramic mug she grinned at Eliza over the rim of it. ‘Morning!’ She took a sip, her eyes never leaving Eliza’s face.
Trying to ignore the sudden flush in her cheeks, Eliza fiddled with the brim of her hat. ‘Oh, hi! What are you doing?’
Beth shrugged one shoulder in a nonchalant gesture. ‘Just taking in the sights.’ She took another sip of her tea, then came to stand beside Eliza and nudged her with an elbow. ‘So, did you forget to tell me something?’
Oh, bloody Sam and his bloody big mouth! It wasn’t that she’d forgotten to tell Beth or Libby about her impending visit to the farm, she’d just chosen not to share the information. Libby loved to jump to conclusions an
d would tease her mercilessly the way she had with Sam and Beth before they’d got together. Not that Eliza and Jack would be doing that, of course, but that wouldn’t stop her.
The rumble of an engine distracted them both, and Eliza turned to watch the black Land Rover roll slowly down the alley towards where she waited. Just as it pulled up to a stop, Beth nudged her again. ‘Six-thirty tomorrow at my place, Lambrini time. Libs and I will want a full report.’
Jack lowered the car window and rested his elbow on the open frame. Dark glasses shielded his eyes, but there was no missing the glance he shot between her and Beth. ‘You ready?’
Eliza nodded. ‘Yes. Absolutely.’ She practically ran around to the passenger side and yanked the door open. ‘I’ll see you later, Beth,’ she called then hopped up into the four-wheel drive without waiting for an answer. ‘That’s Beth, she’s my best friend, and Sam’s girlfriend. She runs the emporium now, you know, the shop next door to the pub…’ Her blathering trailed off in the face of the blank stare of the dark lenses of his sunglasses.
Jack nodded his head downwards. ‘Put your belt on, please.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Her face flamed. She tugged it on, feeling stupidly flustered. Given what had happened to his brother, no wonder Jack was hot on car safety. She should have been thinking about that, not worrying about her friends and their nonsense. It was time to put all that to the back of her mind, or it would ruin her day out. Eliza unzipped the small bag she’d hooked over her shoulder and fished out her own sunglasses. Sliding them on, she settled back in her seat. ‘I’m really looking forward to today. Thanks again for sparing the time.’
Jack put the car in gear and steered along the alley. ‘It’s the least I can do after you introduced me to your dad. He was great the other day.’ The wistful note in his voice had Eliza turning her head to face him, but he kept his eyes fixed resolutely ahead as he waited for a car to pass before he turned out onto the main road.
Summer at Lavender Bay Page 8