Summer at Conwenna Cove

by Darcie Boleyn

  ‘I tried to run before I could walk.’

  Jack sat opposite her and placed his large hand over one of hers. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of ambition.’

  Eve stared into his laughing brown eyes. She knew he was being kind but she was irritated with herself. ‘I should just stick to what I am good at.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ he asked, his expression neutral, his head tilted.

  ‘Oh … I don’t know … My job!’ Eve gulped. ‘Oh my job!’ She collapsed onto her hands again and tried to squeeze away the tears that stung her eyes. She bit her lip hard, but try as she might, she couldn’t escape her despair, and she started to shake.

  The sobs came in big, gulping waves that racked her frame. She felt like she’d never stop until strong hands took hold of her shoulders and she was turned on her chair to face Jack, who now knelt in front of her. He pulled her firmly against his hard chest and enveloped her in his warm, powerful arms. The kindness of his gesture and the fact that he knew what she needed in that moment made her heart crack, which made her cry harder.

  How could she feel so safe in this man’s embrace? She’d never felt like this with Darryl. In fact no man had ever had this effect on her before. Being in Jack’s arms was like coming home; he made her feel like she belonged there. But that was silly. Eve hardly knew him and she’d always sworn that she’d never rely on anyone else for a sense of security. Darryl hadn’t provided it; it just wasn’t the type of man he was. Although she now wondered if she had been glad of that, as it meant she hadn’t depended on him too much so she couldn’t be let down. Her parents hadn’t provided it, not when she was a child or at any point in her life, come to think of it. In fact the only person who’d ever given Eve anything remotely near to love and security was Aunt Mary.

  And now there was Jack.

  He smelt so good.

  He felt so good.

  The sound of his strong heartbeat was just so good.

  He made Eve feel … so good.

  She raised her face and his stubble grazed her forehead and nose. He gazed down at her and she melted into the chocolate-brown depths of his eyes, losing herself in his warmth as a delicious yearning flowed through her. It was like waking up after a long sleep.

  She slid her arms around his neck, curled her hands in his hair then leaned closer, closer, until her lips found his.

  For a moment, he didn’t move.

  Then he gently pulled away and slipped out of her embrace.

  Eve froze. Blinked hard. Sniffed.

  What did I just do?

  ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry!’ She covered her mouth. ‘I didn’t mean to do that! I was just … You were just … Oh, I’m so embarrassed.’ She jumped up and went to the sink. What an idiot! What had made her think he’d want her? But then she hadn’t been thinking, had she? Oh no! She had just been feeling, giving in to the need that coursed through her whenever Jack was around. She turned and stared at him as though she could barely believe he was still there.

  ‘Eve!’ Jack’s face was pale. ‘It’s okay. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I did want to kiss you but I’m just … I just have … uh … some issues.’

  Eve waved a hand. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me. It was nothing but a blip! I was just emotional and you’re so kind and I was totally out of order. Please, say no more about it!’ Her heart pounded and blood whooshed through her ears.

  Jack opened his mouth and seemed about to speak, then he shook his head and rubbed his big hands over his face.

  ‘I’d better clean this up.’ Eve gestured at the mess.

  Jack nodded. ‘Let me give you a hand.’

  ‘No. Please. Just go.’ Go! Leave me with my shame.

  ‘Eve, friends help each other out, and I thought that was what we were becoming.’

  She bit her lip. Friends. Of course.

  ‘Yes. Okay. Thank you. That would be really kind.’

  But I still wish you’d go.

  She pulled on rubber gloves, then picked up a cake tin and started hacking at the burnt mess with a knife. She was mortified but she knew it wasn’t Jack’s fault. If he wanted to be her friend, then that was fine with her. Eve didn’t have many friends and she should be grateful that Jack actually wanted to be one. After what she’d just done, he could have stormed out and never spoken to her again and she would have understood.

  Because that was what she always did … she pushed people away.

  But Jack wanted to stay. To help and support her.

  So why did her chest ache as if she’d been punched? Why did she feel breathless as if that punch had left her winded? Was there a part of her that wanted more from Jack? Even if she did, he’d just made it perfectly clear that all she could ever hope for from him was a platonic relationship.

  She’d have to make do with that.

  But she didn’t know if she could.

  * * *

  Jack finished drying the mixing bowl then tucked it into the correct cupboard. He’d eaten many meals at Mary’s since moving in as her tenant and had always washed and dried the dishes to show his gratitude. It had been an hour since he’d found Eve in the disaster site that had been Mary’s once spotless and organized cottage kitchen, but now it was finally clean and tidy.

  As they’d worked, Eve hadn’t said much to him but he’d sensed that she was hurt. He hadn’t wanted to cause her any pain, but when she’d kissed him, something inside him had exploded and he’d panicked. He was attracted to her, of course he was, but she was wounded and here in Conwenna to heal. Then she would leave. And Jack would stay.

  He wanted to get to know her but he was also becoming increasingly afraid. He really liked her, and the barriers he’d erected around himself to keep love out were weakening in her presence. If he let her in, what was there to stop her hurting him just like his wife had done?

  Jack had rebuilt himself and his life once before; he didn’t know if he could do it again. He didn’t know if he wanted to do it again. It had been so hard the first time. He knew what it was like to try to maintain a long-distance relationship – he’d done it with Jodie when he was in Afghanistan – and though Bristol might not be that far away, it was far enough. He knew that Eve was a career woman, and that she might go back to her job. If something happened between them, how would he fit into her life? Would she ever have time to visit him here?

  Because there was one thing Jack knew for certain: he couldn’t face the idea of moving to a city. He needed to be near the sea, the open space of the horizon that allowed him to breathe. Being in a city would suffocate him with its noises, its towering buildings and its hustle and bustle. He’d tried it after his return from duty, when he’d lived in London for a while. He’d been able to see why other people loved the thriving capital with its proximity to everything a person could want, but it just wasn’t for him. And it wasn’t who he was any more. He needed the freedom of Conwenna Cove, of a seaside haven, and falling in love with a woman who worked in a big city wouldn’t work for him. Or for her. So it was better that they remain just friends.

  ‘You know, Eve. This one doesn’t look too bad.’ Jack poked at a circular sponge that Eve had tipped onto a plate.

  ‘It’s meant to be a Victoria sandwich.’

  ‘So it is,’ Jack replied, as he leaned closer and saw the jam in the middle of the two layers. ‘Could I test it?’

  Eve pursed her lips. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea …’

  ‘Oh come on. I’m quite peckish now. Worked up an appetite with all that clearing up.’ He patted his stomach.

  Eve offered a small smile. ‘Go on then.’ She cut a slice of the cake, put it on a plate and handed it to him.

  He bit into the cake and his mouth was flooded with the sweetness of a soft, light sponge followed by the summery taste of Mary’s home-grown strawberries. He chewed, swallowed, then took another bite.

  Eve stood in front of him, eyes wide. She watched every mouthful, until he’d eaten it all.
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  ‘And?’ She raised her eyebrows and the vulnerability in her eyes made him want to reach out and hug her.

  ‘Absolutely delicious.’ He licked his lips.

  ‘You’re lying, Jack. It looks like a burnt Frisbee.’

  ‘I’m not, I swear! It’s light and crumbly. The flavour is perfect. And yes, the outside is slightly well done but I quite like that about it. It’s tasty, I promise.’

  Eve flushed, which made her even prettier, and he wondered for a moment if she coloured like that when she was aroused. He shook the wayward thought away. It was something he would never know.

  ‘Okay then. Thank you.’

  ‘No problem.’ He watched as she flicked a tea towel over the Aga’s front to dust away flour that had landed there, then tucked her hands into her jean pockets. She stood in the middle of the kitchen as if unsure about what came next. It was all Jack could do not to cross the room and pull her into his arms again. He’d liked holding her, cradling her petite frame against his chest. She was delicate, fragile, and it made something in him want to take care of her; to make her feel better. But it was dangerous territory. To get close to her, emotionally or physically, was risky for him and for her. He’d better make his exit now, while his willpower was still strong.

  ‘I’d better get going now, Eve. Thanks for the cake. I’ll uh … see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Really? You don’t have to go, Jack. I could make us a cup of tea.’

  ‘No. I’ve got things to do. But thanks.’

  Stay strong!

  ‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

  She turned away and left the kitchen, but not before Jack caught a glimpse of the hurt in her eyes. And it made him feel pretty bad. Being strong certainly had its drawbacks.

  Chapter 10

  When Eve woke in the morning, everything that had happened the previous day came back to her and she groaned. She should never have tried to kiss Jack. It was uncharacteristic of her; not the controlled, self-reliant woman she’d become. Perhaps the old Eve, the girl she’d once been, according to Aunt Mary, might have been that forward, that bohemian in her behaviour and attitude, but Eve Carpenter, head teacher, did not go around kissing random men then feeding them cake. And burnt cake at that!

  But Jack had enjoyed the cake.

  She believed him about that.

  And she knew as clearly as she knew it was Tuesday morning that she wanted to be his friend. She’d go round there after breakfast and take him the rest of the Victoria sponge as a token of their burgeoning friendship. To show there were no hard feelings about him not wanting to ravish her last night … or ever, for that matter.

  She pulled on her dressing gown and made her way downstairs, keen to find out what had happened to Aunt Mary last night. She’d heard her aunt coming home around eleven, which she’d been surprised at as it was quite late, but then why shouldn’t Mary go out? It had been Irene’s last night with them, so she hoped the two women had enjoyed themselves.

  She found Irene and Mary at the kitchen table drinking tea. They were both dressed and Eve was surprised when she looked at the clock to find it was gone ten.

  ‘I can’t believe how well I’m sleeping here.’

  Mary filled a mug then handed it to her. ‘I’m glad you’re resting, Eve. You need it.’

  ‘So where did you two dirty stop-outs get to last night?’ Eve winked at Irene to show she was joking.

  ‘Your aunt took me for a stroll along the front, then we went for ice cream.’

  ‘Until eleven?’

  ‘Well, we might have popped in to Edward’s for a nightcap.’ Mary chuckled, then lowered her eyes to her mug.

  ‘He had my favourite brandy.’ Irene nodded. ‘And we sang some old songs on his games computer thingy.’

  Eve nearly inhaled her tea. ‘You what?’

  ‘Edward has a console with a musical game. You can play pretend instruments and sing karaoke.’

  Irene nodded.

  Eve watched them both. Were they pulling her leg? Edward had to be in his late sixties and he had a games console that he played on with her aunt and Irene?

  ‘Don’t look so surprised, Eve. He can’t be out fishing all the time, you know. He has to have some down time.’ Mary flashed her a big grin then stood up. ‘Right, let’s get you some breakfast. You look better than you did when you arrived, but it’ll take more than a long weekend to build you up.’

  Eve loosened the belt of her dressing gown. If Mary intended to make her breakfast, she suspected she’d need a bit of growing room.

  * * *

  Once she was washed and dressed in jeans and a pale blue T-shirt that was a bit on the big side but that she thought flattered her skin tone, Eve skipped down the stairs to the kitchen. She picked up the plate with the rest of the Victoria sponge on it, then covered it in foil.

  Irene’s daughter was due after lunch, so Mary and Irene were in the living room enjoying an antiques programme on the TV and drinking yet another cup of tea. It was the perfect opportunity for Eve to slip out and take the cake to Jack.

  She went out the back door then right around Mary’s house and past the front window. Eve moved quickly, hoping that her aunt and Irene would be too engrossed in the value of antiques to notice her. But when she knocked on Jack’s front door, there was no answer.

  She tried again. Her stomach flipped as she stood there wondering what to do. She was already a bit apprehensive after last night’s embarrassment, but she believed it would be better to see him sooner rather than later, in order to put her silly attempt at kissing him behind her. But he wasn’t answering the door. Did he know it was her? Was he avoiding her deliberately?

  I could just go.

  But no; that wasn’t her. Eve confronted her fears. She didn’t let things simmer. That was how things went wrong and she lost the people she cared about.

  Hoping Jack hadn’t heard her knocking, she went around the side of Jack’s cottage then lifted the catch on the gate and let herself in to his back garden. It was a mirror image of Mary’s in size and shape, but it didn’t have the raised beds and fruit trees. Instead, there were a few barrel halves with a variety of wild flowers growing in them – for the bees, she guessed – and a beautiful carved bench under the kitchen window. She peered through the glass but she couldn’t see any movement, so she tried the door. It was locked. Where was he? Perhaps he’d gone to the farm. She thought about leaving the cake on the bench but decided it would probably attract insects or even rodents. She’d have to bring it to him later.

  As she was about to go back through the gate her eyes fell on the shed. What was it that Jack did in there? She almost laughed at her earlier suspicion that he might be growing marijuana. He didn’t seem that type at all. But she was still curious. What did he get up to in there in just his jeans? Would it be open?

  If it was, she could have a peek. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  She approached cautiously, aware that Jack could be inside. The padlock was off, hanging from the open clasp at an angle. She raised her hand and knocked. No answer. She took hold of the doorknob and turned it, and the door swung open. Still holding the plate in one hand, she entered the shed and waited for her eyes to adjust.

  Tiny motes of dust floated in the air, catching the sunlight that filtered through a gap in the curtains covering a small window to her right. She paused as her first step caused the wooden planks of the floor to creak. She shouldn’t be doing this, entering Jack’s private property when he wasn’t here and without his permission, but a desire to know more about him that burned brighter every minute pushed her on.

  A smell greeted her nostrils and she tried to place it. Something to do with school … and the art rooms. That was it. The chalky-earthy scents of paint, canvas and charcoal.

  The small space was warm and stuffy, even mid-morning, and she could understand now why Jack often came out here in a state of undress. That was one part of the mystery solved. But the oth
er – what he did out here – now became clear too. Balanced against the far wall and the one to her left were canvases. As she approached, she could see that they were all draped with what appeared to be white dust sheets. To her right, just before the window, stood an easel, and on it was another canvas, though this one was uncovered.

  She moved closer, even as a voice at the back of her mind screamed at her not to do this; to leave and leave now. Before it was too late. But she couldn’t. She was drawn to the canvas.

  Her mouth fell open as she gazed at the charcoal sketch in front of her. Never before had she seen anything so beautiful, so lifelike, so pure yet so full of pain. She lifted her free hand, about to touch the surface just to check if it was real, if it was actually there before her, when she was startled by a sound behind her: the creaking of the floorboard at the entrance to the shed.

  She turned, slowly, guiltily, to find Jack standing there, his feet apart, his huge body filling the doorway. The light was behind him, so she couldn’t make out his expression clearly, but she could sense the anger and disappointment drifting off him like smoke from a fire. It filled the shed, stifling her and making her take small, desperate breaths. Her heart hammered and her vision blurred – just for a few seconds – and she cursed her own curiosity for getting her into this mess.

  Not now! Not another panic attack. Not here!

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Eve?’ Jack’s voice was sharp as a blade as it sliced through the air.

  Eve swallowed hard then held out the plate she carried. Her palms were sweaty and the cake suddenly seemed to be far heavier than it had been.

  ‘I … I came to …’ She swallowed again. Her mouth was as dry as sand and her throat constricted, choking her.

  ‘Came to what? To pry? To spy?’ He took a step into the room, then another, until he was so close she could have touched him. She stared up into his face and dismay filled her. He was furious and he had every right to be.