Summer at Lavender Bay

by Sarah Bennett

  Noah’s face crumpled. ‘I can’t play football because I haven’t got a daddy anymore.’

  What the fu…Jack swallowed the curse on his lips. ‘What do you mean you can’t play football?’ He frowned over the top of Noah’s head at Mrs Taylor then looked back down at his nephew.

  ‘Michael said I can’t play football because Daddy’s dead.’ Noah flung his arms around Jack’s neck once more and he hugged the boy close.

  ‘There’s been a terrible misunderstanding…’ Mrs Taylor rounded her desk to take a seat in the armchair across from them. ‘The school’s taking part in the national “Fit and Fun” campaign and we thought it would be a nice idea to get some parents involved. We’re organising a fathers and sons football competition down on the beach next weekend…’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘And you didn’t stop to think how this might affect one of your pupils who’d recently suffered a bereavement?’ It took all his effort to keep from shouting, but Noah was upset enough as it was. Jesus, what the hell had they been thinking?

  Mrs Taylor blanched. ‘I know, it’s inexcusable not to have discussed it with you first. It didn’t seem like a problem though because Noah was excited about asking you to do it with him.’

  Jack wasn’t sure his poor heart could take much more of a battering. He sucked in a breath, his hands stroking up and down Noah’s back as he tried not to hug him too tight. ‘So why all the tears?’

  The headteacher sighed. ‘I’m afraid one of the other boys in class took exception and said something unkind to Noah. I’ll be having a talk with him afterwards but seeing to Noah was my first priority.’

  It looked like she wanted to say something more, so Jack loosened his hold on Noah. ‘Hey, buddy, why don’t you pop next door and see Mandy? Ask her if she’ll help you wash your face and maybe get you a glass of water? You don’t want to get a sore throat.’

  Noah slipped down from his lap. ‘You’ll be here?’

  ‘I won’t move from this spot, I just want to talk to Mrs Taylor for a minute and then you can come home with me if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He watched Noah trot out of the room, then rounded on Mrs Taylor. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

  She rubbed her hands on the thighs of her trousers. ‘I’m not sure I can say anything without breaking a confidence.’

  ‘Bollocks!’ Jack snapped his lips shut, took a breath and started again. ‘Sorry for swearing, but you must see this from my point of view, if one of the boy’s is picking on Noah, I want to know why and I want it stopped right this minute!’

  Mrs Taylor nodded. ‘The boy in question doesn’t enjoy a lot of home support. I think he wanted to stop Noah from joining in with the football so he wouldn’t be the only one who didn’t go.’

  Jack paused to let what she was saying sink in. ‘So this boy’s dad won’t take him on Sunday?’

  ‘It’s highly unlikely.’ She crossed her legs and sat back in her seat. ‘It’s still absolutely no excuse for him to upset Noah, but I don’t think he said it to be cruel. I’ll make sure he understands and apologises.’

  What a bloody mess. Jack had to admit as angry as he was about Noah, he didn’t envy Mrs Taylor her job having to juggle with dozens of tiny emotional timebombs every day. ‘If the kid’s having a hard time, let’s not make it any worse for him, okay?’

  Her sense of relief was palpable. ‘Thank you, Mr Gilbert. That’s very understanding of you. I hope you will be able to bring Noah along next Sunday, it’s clear the two of you have a very strong bond.’

  ‘If he still wants to do it, then I’ll make the time for him, of course. Do you have something with all the details on it?’

  ‘Yes, I have a flyer somewhere…it’s a bit short notice but a couple of the other dads put the idea together and we decided to support them.’

  Standing, Jack accepted the piece of paper. He gave it a quick glance over then folded it up and stuck it in his back pocket. A soft tap came on the open door and he looked up to see Noah standing there, with his hand tucked into Mandy’s. His face was washed, and apart from a little redness around his eyes he looked much better. ‘All right?’

  Noah nodded. ‘Mandy had some orange and pineapple squash and it was yummy.’

  Jack smiled to himself. If only all problems were so easily resolved. ‘I don’t think we have any of that—you can tell Nanna about it when we get home, so she can put some on the shopping list if you like?’

  ‘Can I tell her about it tonight? It’s nearly breaktime and then we have drawing. It’s my favourite lesson.’

  God above, the kid was going to kill him with his brave little soul. ‘Of course, buddy. Come and give me a hug and then you can go out and play with your friends. I’ll be here to pick you up after school, all right?’

  Noah hugged him tight for a minute then stepped back. He glanced down then up at Jack with a giggle. ‘You forgot your shoes, Uncle Jack!’

  Jack wriggled his toes. ‘I had to leave my boots by the door because they were covered in mud. I’ve been digging up the vegetable patch because Nanna and I are going to plant some roses there. You know how we make oil from the lavender? Well, we can do the same with roses too.’

  ‘And they will look pretty! Nanna likes pretty flowers.’ Noah took his hand. ‘I’ll show you the way back if you like?’

  Jack bit his lip against a smile. ‘That would be very helpful, thank you, Noah.’ He nodded to Mrs Taylor, then Mandy. ‘I’ll be off then. Give me a call if there are any more problems.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Mrs Taylor shook his free hand then stepped out of the way to let them passed.

  ‘I’ll send you a quick email with the details of that orange squash, shall I?’ Mandy asked as she walked with them the couple of paces to the outer office door.

  ‘Cheers, Mandy, you’re a star.’ She blushed bright red and scurried back behind her desk.

  Hand in hand, Jack and Noah wandered towards the exit, pausing beside the board which showed Noah’s class’s achievements. It was obvious from the wide array of names and some of the more spurious prizes mentioned that the teacher worked hard to give everyone a fair mention.

  Noah pointed out his star for being the best helper for the previous week, pride shining bright on his face. Jack squeezed his hand. ‘Well, I reckon that deserves a treat. What say we stop on the way home and you can choose a new comic? We could get some flowers for Nanna as well.’

  ‘Yes, please!’

  The bell rang, and the sound of chairs scraping came from the classroom next to them. ‘That’s breaktime, then? I’d better be off.’ A stream of children came flowing down the corridor, sweeping Noah up in their midst and Jack let him go with a smile.

  Digging his phone out of his pocket, he rang his mum with an update as he shoved his feet into his boots. She sounded as relieved as he now felt, and they agreed to talk it over when he got home. Jack checked the screen out of habit before putting it away and saw the text message icon. He scrolled to his messages as he made his way across the playground, trying to dodge zooming, laughing children as he went.

  The girls want to meet you so we’re having a bit of a get-together in the pub tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind. Sam’s arranging a distraction x

  Jack considered Eliza’s message, wondering what she’d said to them last night to warrant them wanting to meet him. It had to be a good thing, right? Or maybe they were worried about whether he was good enough for their friend. He gave himself a mental slap. There wasn’t anything going on between them for anyone to be worried about. More’s the pity. He texted her back quickly. Looking forward to it x

  He climbed into the Land Rover. If he tried hard enough, he might even convince himself he meant meeting her friends rather than getting the chance to spend time with Eliza again.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Sam? Have you seen the Aspirin?’ Clutching her head, Eliza all but staggered towards the kitchen. Having woken early, she’d had the
foolish idea of squeezing in a couple of hours at her sewing machine before things got busy. Her hangover had kicked in halfway up the back stairs. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of her brother all but facing off with an unfamiliar man. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.’

  Sam flicked her a strained smile. ‘Hey, Sis. This is Mr Coburn, he’s up and about early.’

  She could understand his irritation. The family and guest sections of the upper floors of the pub were clearly demarcated, and most visitors respected those boundaries. Most, but not all it seemed.

  Owen tucked his hands in the front pockets of a pair of crisp chinos and leaned one hip against the table, looking every inch like he owned the bloody place. His hair was cropped close to his head, and his casual stance did nothing to lessen the impact of him on Eliza’s poor addled brain. The man breathed confidence from every pore, no wonder he had poor Libby at sixes and sevens.

  The corner of his mouth twisted up in something approximating a smile. ‘I waited in the breakfast room, but when there was no one about I decided to try and track down a cup of coffee.’

  Confidence? Arrogance more like! It was on the tip of her tongue to point out all guest rooms were supplied with a kettle and supplies to make hot drinks, when Sam opted to take the high road and crossed the kitchen to flip on the coffee machine. Whoever was last up always set it up before going to bed, so it would only be a matter of minutes before it brewed.

  Moving next to the fridge, Sam opened the door and removed a carton of juice. ‘Orange, that’s your preference if I remember rightly?’

  Owen nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’ He half-turned towards the table which was littered with blueprints and paperwork. ‘I was nosing around while I was waiting. This looks interesting, I’d like to know more about it.’

  Finding the frank admission disarming, Eliza decided he might deserve the benefit of the doubt after all. She watched as Sam approached the table and handed one of the glasses of juice to Owen before rifling through the papers to find the master design sketches. ‘I’m going to convert the skittle alley beneath the pub into an exclusive restaurant.’ He nudged the drawings over, giving Owen tacit permission to look through them. ‘Well, as soon as the bloody bank pulls their finger out, I will be.’

  Owen hummed a sympathetic noise of agreement as he flicked through the papers before him. ‘That’s always the fun part of any project—getting the investors to buy into your vision.’ He pulled out a chair and sat. His hand hovered over the ring binder file Sam was using to manage the project, then paused. ‘May I?’

  The banging in Eliza’s head wasn’t getting any better so she left them to it and hunted for the old biscuit tin they used as a first aid kit. Hugging a packet of painkillers to her chest, Eliza returned the tin to the cupboard then poured her own glass of juice. She drained half of it before washing down a couple of pills with the rest. The rich smell of fresh coffee filled the room, combining with the hit of hydration from the juice to make her feel marginally more human. ‘I’ll fix us some coffee, shall I?’ Belatedly remembering Owen was supposed to be a guest, she rustled up a smile. ‘Did you want anything to eat yet?’

  Nose-deep in a spreadsheet, Owen gave an absent nod. ‘A slice of toast for now. I’m not in any rush this morning so I’m happy to wait for a few more people to stir before you start cooking. I can’t seem to lie in, even when I’m not working.’

  Sam stood up. ‘I’m on duty, Sis. Grab a seat and I’ll sort this out.’

  Grateful, Eliza slunk into a seat at the kitchen table

  Whilst Owen studied columns of numbers, Sam pottered around pouring the coffee and sticking four slices of bread in the large toaster. ‘I remembered you were an early riser from last time,’ her brother said to Owen. ‘My girlfriend kicked me out for a girls’ night with Eliza here and their other best friend, so I didn’t sleep well myself.’

  Accepting the coffee, Owen took a gulp of the hot liquid and sighed. ‘God, I’m useless without caffeine. Those instant sachet things are all right at other times, but I need something decent to get my brain working first thing.’ He took another drink then set the mug down. ‘Your girlfriend’s the one who owns that junk shop next door, right? I remember her warning me about you when I asked her for a drink.’

  All thoughts of Eliza’s hangover fled as she stared slack-jawed at Owen. God, he really had a price on himself! And from the scowl Sam was throwing at him, that smug grin was about to get knocked right off his face. ‘Don’t let Beth hear you call it a junk shop or she’ll bite your face off, she loves every inch of the emporium.’

  Owen raised an eyebrow. ‘Feisty, is she? I would’ve thought face-biting would be more the style of that weird friend of yours—the one with the mad hair.’

  There was something in his tone which caught her attention. A slyness to the way Owen had slipped a mention of Libby into the conversation, and coupled with her friend’s odd reaction to him the previous night…Eliza sat back in her chair, beginning to enjoy herself. ‘Libby? She’s been doing her hair like that since we were only thirteen or fourteen. Our teacher sent her home , and everyone expected Mick, her dad, to punish her, but he marched straight up to the school and gave the head a right earful.’

  After placing the coffee and toast on the table, Sam resumed his seat and smiled at the memory. ‘I remember that! Those two are a formidable partnership, have been since Libs lost her mum. They run the chippy along the prom—you should try it one night; best fish and chips in the county.’

  Owen’s knife clattered onto his plate as though it’d slipped out of his fingers. ‘You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.’

  ‘About what?’

  Owen blinked, appearing startled by the question. Sam watched him open and close his mouth a couple of times before Owen shrugged. ‘I just meant it’s a surprising recommendation from someone who trained at Le Cordon Bleu.’

  ‘Well, it’s the truth. Mick and Libby are like family to us, have been since the girls all made friends together at school. It’s one of the perks of growing up in a small town like this, everyone kind of adopts each other.’

  The colour drained from Owen’s face and he pushed abruptly to his feet. ‘I need to go. Thanks for the coffee and the toast.’ And with that, he was gone.

  Funny sod. Eliza turned to meet Sam’s equally bemused gaze. ‘What was that all about?’

  He shrugged. ‘Dunno—’ He halted as Owen suddenly reappeared at the door.

  ‘I forgot the plans.’ Owen gestured towards the table then moved to gather everything up. ‘I’ll have a look and let you know later what I think.’ He was gone again before either of them could say anything.

  ‘He not here yet then?’ Libby said as she bounced up to the bar, her blue and green hair still wet from what must’ve been a quick shower and change.

  ‘Not yet, but there’s a lot of work to do on the farm so it’s not exactly a nine-to-five job.’ Eliza tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she fished a bottle of white wine out of the fridge behind her. ‘You having a large one?’

  ‘Does the Pope shit in the woods?’ Libby grinned.

  ‘Charming as ever, I see.’ Owen’s deep drawl made them both jump. Without the haze of a hangover clouding her judgement, Eliza could see he really was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. Though with such a severe crewcut and a tattoo she’d not seen earlier covering his upper arm from the edge of his T-shirt sleeve to his elbow, he was definitely not her type.

  ‘You didn’t fall under a bus then? That’s a pity.’ Libby’s rapid-fire retort was followed by a deliberate turn of her back to the man. ‘If you’re going to let any old riff-raff in here, Eliza, I might have to start drinking somewhere else.’ Curiouser and curiouser. He might not be Eliza’s type, but he was exactly the kind of trouble to catch her best friend’s eye. So why all the hostility between them? Eliza would have to have a quiet word with Beth later and see if she could shed any light on things.

&nb
sp; Owen shook his head at Libby’s snippy comment and placed a ten-pound note on the bar. ‘A pint of lager, and I’ll buy your friend a drink if you slip some arsenic in it for me.’

  Eliza couldn’t stifle a giggle, earning herself a wink from Owen and a scowl from Libby. She slid the note back towards him. ‘It’s on the house. Sam’s grabbed a table over there in the corner.’ She nodded behind Owen as she placed his pint in front of him.

  Owen raised his glass. ‘Cheers, and thanks.’ He strode across the pub to where Sam and Beth were sitting at a table beneath the window.

  ‘What the bloody hell is that all about?’ Libby demanded. ‘‘It’s on the house.’ God, you were practically drooling.’

  Too intrigued to wait and quiz Beth later, Eliza checked around her then nodded Libby into the corner between the bar and the door leading to the private, family area. When her friend slouched over, Eliza leaned close. ‘What’s the problem? You’ve barely exchanged more than two words with the guy and yet there’s all this animosity between you. Has he done something to hurt you?’

  Libby shrugged, the single shoulder lift a decidedly sulky gesture. ‘He’s a stuck-up git, that’s all. Why are you and Sam so bloody chummy with him all of a sudden?’

  Eliza frowned. It sounded a poor excuse for so much tension between two relative strangers. ‘Because he’s looking over the plans for the restaurant. Having someone with his experience involved in the project can only strengthen Sam’s position, and he might even agree to invest because the bank have been dragging their heels apparently. You know how important this is to Sam—to Beth as well. This is their future in the balance. Owen told Sam he was still on the lookout for projects situated here in the bay to invest in.’ She took Libby’s hand. ‘If he’s bad news then we need to warn Sam.’

  Libby bristled for a moment before shaking her head. ‘Ignore me, he just winds me up for some reason. I wonder why he’s so fixated on our little town though, you can’t get much further from the glamour of London than Lavender Bay.’