He couldn’t be all bad if he showed her aunt such respect and affection, now could he?
Chapter 4
As Jack walked through the lanes to the farm, he thought about Eve Carpenter. He tried not to, but for some reason the petite blonde kept forcing her way into his mind. That was the problem with women like her; they just got under your skin and before you knew it, you were trusting them and letting them make you vulnerable.
Eve was a lot like Mary physically. She wasn’t much taller than his landlady and she had the same small features. But those eyes! They were so big and green, like emeralds if he was being poetic. Her hair was cropped short, which gave her an elfin appearance and made her seem vulnerable. He wanted to be annoyed with her – after all, she’d neglected Mary for a long time – but there was something about her that also made him feel a bit … funny.
He shook his head and climbed over a stile into the field that bordered the farm. He’d probably just been too long without sex and the first attractive female that stepped into his path – or bounced off his chest – had turned his head. That was what it was. Yet when he’d taken her hand in his and seen the spark in her gaze, Jack had known that there was more to Eve than her facade would suggest. She looked every bit the manicured career woman, from her designer skinny jeans and blouse to her giant handbag and expensive haircut, but she was so thin, so jumpy, so … fragile. Jack knew he had a soft spot for wounded animals, and he sensed that Eve was wounded, so he’d have to ensure that he kept his wits about him and didn’t fall for her charms. He’d dealt with a broken heart once and he had no intention of going through all that nonsense again.
* * *
Eve sipped her tea slowly and watched her aunt over the rim of the mug. Mary was tending to Irene, her ageing guest, and Eve was in awe of how patient and kind she was being.
‘Come on then, Irene, drink your tea before it gets cold.’
‘Yes. But I do like lemon drizzle cake with my tea.’
‘I know, dear, but you’ve just had your lunch and you don’t want to eat too much, do you?’ Mary smiled at Irene but the older woman stared back blankly.
‘Just a small slice?’
‘Oh, go on then, but we’ll have to take a gentle stroll around the garden afterwards.’
Irene laughed and clapped her hands. ‘A stroll would be lovely.’
Mary cut a home-made cake then handed Irene a slice on a small china plate and looked at Eve. ‘Would you like some?’
Eve was about to decline but then recalled what Mary had said to her earlier about her weight loss. ‘Please.’ She accepted the proffered plate. As soon as she popped a piece of cake into her mouth, it watered at the delicious combination of sweet and sour. The sugar in the drizzle contrasted perfectly with the tartness of the lemon juice and the perfect lightness of the sponge. ‘This is SO good!’
Mary nodded. ‘I’m glad you like it. It’s very easy to make.’
‘I’ve never been any good at baking,’ Eve said, finishing her slice of cake.
‘That’s not strictly true, Eve.’
‘Phyllis can’t bake for love nor money,’ Irene chipped in.
‘Who’s Phyllis?’ Eve asked.
‘My daughter, of course,’ Irene replied, shaking her head. ‘Can’t you remember anything?’
Eve raised her mug and hid a smile. Irene was a sweet old lady. Mary had briefly explained to Eve that she was suffering from the onset of dementia, which meant that she had periods of lucidity followed by episodes of confusion. Her memory was not the best, so her reprimand aimed at Eve was rather ironic.
‘Could I have some cake, Mary?’ Irene asked, holding out her plate.
‘Irene, you just had a piece.’
‘Did I?’ She fluttered her short white eyelashes, then gave a small laugh. ‘So I did. Worth a try, though, eh?’
Eve and Mary laughed as Irene got up from the table. ‘Shall I do the dishes?’
‘No, it’s okay. I’ll do them,’ Eve said.
‘Well I shall return to my room to take a nap, then.’
Irene had been napping when Eve arrived but Mary had told her that her elderly guest tired easily and that she often catnapped during the day.
‘That was a delicious lunch, Aunt Mary.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it and I’m hoping to feed you up while you’re here.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Eve took the plates to the sink and stared out into the garden. It was lusciously green, with plants and trees in every pot and patch of earth that she could see. Some were flowering, some had buds on and some were shoots just emerging from the earth. She knew her aunt had always had green fingers but didn’t remember her having this many things growing in her garden.
As Eve filled the sink with soapy water, Mary appeared at her side with a tea towel. ‘You know, I’ve had a lot of help out there from Jack.’
Eve started at his name. ‘Really? He doesn’t look like a gardener.’ Then what does he look like? She shrugged the voice away.
‘He wasn’t. Until he came here.’
‘You taught him?’ Eve immersed a plate into the water and rubbed at it with the small washing-up brush.
‘Some things. But others he just knew instinctively. He’s very good with plants and animals. He might be a big lad but he has a heart of gold, that one.’
‘I don’t think he likes me.’ Eve bit her lip. How had that escaped? Where was her filter?
Mary placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘He’s been quite …’ Rude? Abrupt? Mean? But had he been any of those things?
‘Oh I know he can come across as a bit reserved, aloof even, but he’s been through some difficult things in his life. He was a marine and he served in Afghanistan.’
‘Goodness!’ That would explain his size and physique, then.
‘He’s quite fit, isn’t he?’
Heat rushed into Eve’s cheeks. ‘Aunt Mary!’
‘Oh, just because I’m getting on, I can’t appreciate a good-looking man when I see one? Come on, Eve.’ She nudged Eve with her hip. ‘He’s a lovely young man and he’s settled well in Conwenna. He’s not put all his demons behind him yet, but time will help with that.’
‘And your home cooking?’
‘Yes, Eve. Good food always helps the soul to heal. You can’t get better if you have no reserves. You need your physical strength alongside your emotional strength. One doesn’t work without the other.’
Eve swilled out the mugs then placed them on the draining board. She yawned and stretched her arms, suddenly exhausted. ‘I think the journey must have taken it out of me.’
‘I think the past few years have taken it out of you. Why don’t you take a nap then we can walk the dogs before dinner?’
‘I never nap in the day, Aunt Mary.’
‘Well perhaps it’s time to start. Now go to your room and get some rest. I’ll wake you in an hour or so if you’re not up.’
Eve gave her aunt a hug then went up the creaky narrow staircase and into the cosy low-ceilinged room she’d always stayed in as child. Jack had put her bags at the bottom of the bed beside an old pine trunk and she placed her oversized handbag next to them.
Then, kicking off her shoes and climbing up on the double bed with its purple and blue patchwork quilt, she lay down, and fell instantly asleep.
* * *
Eve slowly surfaced to consciousness like a diver rising from the seabed, then stretched out and gazed around. The bedroom was warm with late-afternoon sunlight and she guessed that it must be gone four. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply. She sat up and went to the window then flung it open and breathed deeply of the air. It bore the scents of earth and salt, of fertility and life.
Her room overlooked the back garden with its vegetable patches, its fruit trees and a variety of herbs in raised beds. It was wonderfully green. There were a few more raised beds in the process of being built and she recalled her aunt tellin
g her that Jack was making them. According to Mary, Jack was quite handy to have around. Darryl hadn’t been like that; he’d had no manual skills at all, and while Eve hadn’t minded – not being particularly practical herself – she could see how such skills would come in useful.
A noise caught her attention and she leaned a bit further out of the window to peer into the garden of the cottage next door. Jack came around the corner carrying a large package wrapped in brown paper. He stumbled as he climbed the two grass-covered steps that led to a generously sized wooden shed because he clearly couldn’t see over the package. Eve gasped, worrying that he’d hurt himself, and he turned instantly at the noise and stared right at her. She lifted a hand to wave but he scowled, so she thought better of it and backed away from the window.
What on earth was he up to? The package he’d been carrying looked like a board of some type and she wondered what it could be. Perhaps he was making something in the shed, or perhaps it was a new TV. It was big enough to be one of those forty-plus-inch screens. But why would he be taking it out there?
Eve shrugged. It didn’t really matter; what did matter was that Jack had caught her watching him and now he probably thought she was spying on him. Or worse, that she fancied him and couldn’t help gazing at him from her bedroom window. She cringed. Great start, Eve! Now Mr Grumpy thinks you’ve got the hots for him.
She decided to unpack as a way of distracting herself. She hung her dresses in the large old-fashioned wardrobe that actually had a key in the lock, and her T-shirts and jeans in the drawers of the pretty old dresser with a round mirror on top. The edges of the mirror were darker where the protective coating had obviously worn away and exposed the silver nitrate to the air – something she’d learnt in a science lesson she’d observed once. But she thought it gave the mirror character, just like the scratches on the wooden floorboards and the slight fading on some of the squares of the patchwork quilt where the sun had shone through the window on them.
Eve paused, waiting for the pang of regret or guilt to come because she wasn’t at work; for the desire to be back there in school to sear through her heart and soul, as it would’ve done in the past. But nothing happened. It must be numbness caused by the shock of her anxiety attack, migraine and exhaustion. No doubt it would soon seep back in.
She slid her suitcase and empty holdall under the bed, then checked her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was sticking up on one side where she’d slept on it and there was a crease down her left cheek. So not only had she looked like a peeping Tom but a scruffy one too. She rubbed at her cheek then ran her hands through her hair, but it stubbornly sprang back into place. Well, it would have to do. Aunt Mary had told her she’d wake her in an hour, but she was sure she’d slept for longer, probably more like two hours. She’d better go downstairs and help with dinner. She might even learn something while she was here, which would be a good thing as her culinary skills certainly needed improvement.
* * *
‘Hello, Eve, how did you sleep?’ Mary asked as she walked into the kitchen.
‘Very well, thank you. Too well, in fact. You should have called me.’
Mary peered at her over the top of small rectangular glasses. ‘Do you know, I completely forgot!’ She gave a wink that suggested that she’d not forgotten at all but had in fact left Eve sleeping because she thought she needed it. ‘I’ve been pottering around in the garden, then I came in here and Irene was making a bit of a fuss.’
Irene shook her head. ‘Don’t exaggerate, Mary.’
‘You were, Irene, don’t fib.’ The two women giggled like teenagers.
‘What happened?’ Eve asked as she took a seat at the table.
‘One of those damned cats brought a mouse in and dropped it in my lap!’ Irene said, her white eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. ‘If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s vermin!’ She fluttered her hands around her face and laughed some more.
‘Yes, it caused quite a bit of excitement,’ Mary said, ‘especially when we had to try to catch it.’
‘And did you?’ Eve asked, lifting her feet from the floor just in case.
Mary nodded. ‘Yes, of course. And I took it up to the end of the garden and released it, so don’t worry. We get a lot of mice and the like coming down from the fields. The cats are well fed, so they don’t chase them for food, but occasionally they like to toy with them.’
Eve looked at the table, which was covered in flour and small bowls of freshly chopped herbs. ‘What’re you making?’
Mary dusted her hands with flour then began kneading a ball of dough. ‘Garlic and rosemary focaccia bread.’
‘Yum!’ Eve licked her lips.
‘Want to take over?’
‘I couldn’t. I can’t even warm beans in the microwave without making a mess.’
‘It’s easier than you think,’ Mary said, working a handful of chopped rosemary into the dough.
‘Some of you career women miss out on so much,’ Irene cut in. ‘You just don’t have the time to do things from scratch because you’re so busy. My granddaughter’s the same. She lives in London.’
‘That’s not strictly true. Some women do manage to do it all,’ Eve replied, thinking of Amanda, who was keen to climb the career ladder yet also managed to fit in baking sessions with her children at the weekends and during holidays. Amanda also made a delicious curry, which Eve had enjoyed on several occasions when they’d had a girls’ night in. Although now she thought about it, she couldn’t recall the last time they’d done that. It might even have been before the twins … before her life started to crumble.
‘Eve!’ Mary’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Are you okay? You just blanched.’
‘She doesn’t look well at all,’ Irene added. ‘Was it all the talk of mice?’
‘I’m … I’m all right. I just have a bit of a headache. Not used to napping in the afternoon.’
‘Well forget about the cooking for now. Why don’t you take the dogs for a stroll? It’ll do them good to have a gentle walk and give you the opportunity to take a look around, perhaps work up an appetite before dinner.’
‘I thought you said they weren’t keen on moving from the sofa?’ Eve said.
‘They’re not, but if a walk’s on offer, they can usually be persuaded. Just take it slowly and if they get tired, come straight back.’
Eve went to put her trainers on and grabbed a zip-up hoodie from her cupboard, then skipped down the stairs. She was keen to get out in the lovely afternoon and have a look around the old village to see if anything had changed.
As she reached the bottom step, she heard a deep voice coming from the kitchen and she had to fight the urge to run straight back up the stairs. It was Jack. Would he tell Aunt Mary that she had been staring at him from her bedroom window? That could be really embarrassing and she already felt like an idiot.
She walked through to the kitchen but found Jack in her way, blocking the doorway. His shoulders almost touched the frame on either side, and his grey T-shirt stretched across his bulging biceps. Eve cleared her throat, not wanting to have to touch him in case she suddenly caressed him instead.
Jack turned and glared down at her. ‘Oh, it’s you. Finished gazing at the view now, have you?’
‘What?’ Eve decided to feign innocence but a blush stole up her chest and neck then flared in her cheeks. Her body was betraying her even as her mind screamed at it to remain calm. This was just a man after all, and she was accustomed to having a position of authority over many men in school; to being completely normal and in control of herself whenever she was around men. But taken out of her usual environment and placed in close proximity to a large and, she had to admit it, rather hunky male – although he was a bit rude – she seemed to be losing her ability to remain cool.
‘How’s the view close up?’ Jack whispered as he leaned towards her.
Eve took a step backwards and ran a hand through her hair. ‘I was just admiring the garden.’
> Jack nodded but his eyes glinted. ‘Of course you were.’
Was he teasing?
‘Off you go then!’ Mary said as she approached them and handed Jack two leads.
Eve stared at Mary. ‘I thought I was walking the dogs.’
‘Well, as I’m busy, I asked Jack to go with you. He can show you around and help you get your bearings.’
Eve opened her mouth to make an excuse, any excuse, but nothing came. Her mind went completely blank.
‘Come on, Harry, Clio!’ Jack called as he walked through to the lounge. ‘Walkies!’
Eve watched as the dogs stretched and yawned then slid off the sofas and wagged their long tails before dancing around the room as if they’d both lost ten years.
Jack attached the leads to their collars and walked them outside. Eve followed, playing with the zip on her hoodie. She felt like a teenager being forced on a date with the son of her mother’s friend. Which had happened once. Eve’s mother had been such a control freak that she’d decided it would be a good idea to matchmake. The boy had been equally as reticent as Eve, though, and the evening had been a complete disaster, never to be repeated.
Jack handed Eve one of the leads and set off down the driveway and onto the gravel road, leaving Eve almost running to keep up. She turned to wave goodbye and found Mary and Irene standing outside the cottage, their heads together with big grins on their faces. They looked like they were conspiring and Eve just hoped her suspicions about their intentions weren’t right. There was no way that anything could ever happen between her and Jack Adams. No way at all.
Chapter 5
Jack walked briskly until he realized that his pace was putting too much strain on Eve, Harry and Clio, so he slowed down and made an effort to keep his paces shorter. Even with his injury, he could still move quickly; it was only when he went slower that it became more pronounced. He hated that he had the limp but thought he’d got off lightly compared to some. The doctors had been able to save his leg; many of his fellow marines and other soldiers hadn’t been that lucky.
Summer at Conwenna Cove Page 4