Sarah's Secret

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Sarah's Secret Page 5

by Catherine George


  ‘Yes. I met him quite recently. Why?’

  ‘He’s cool. Not a bit like Boring Brian,’ said Davy, then made a face. ‘Sorry!’

  ‘I should think so,’ said Sarah, trying not to laugh. ‘And for your information, miss, I don’t go out with Brian any more.’

  ‘Really?’ Davy’s face lit up. ‘Is that because of Mr Hogan?’

  ‘Certainly not. Brian and I decided to call it a day, that’s all.’

  Davy danced a little jig of jubilation. ‘Great! I was really, really afraid you were going to marry Brian and I’d have to call him Daddy.’

  Sarah couldn’t help laughing. ‘There was never any question of that, muggins.’

  ‘Thank goodness. Not that I’d mind if you did get married one day,’ added Davy magnanimously. ‘Someone like Polly’s dad would be fab.’

  ‘I’ll keep it in mind!’

  Davy loved everything about the afternoon, delighted when she found that a dog show was part of the entertainment. She went into raptures over the irresistible Labradors, and clapped the elegant, obedient German Shepherds, then went wild with excitement when teams of mongrels raced against each other through obstacle courses. In between events she downed a hot dog, and several doughnuts, and after a few determined attempts knocked down enough skittles to win a small white rabbit with blue eyes.

  ‘Do you think Grandma would like this?’ she asked, as they eventually began trudging home.

  ‘That’s a nice thought. I’m sure she’ll love it.’

  ‘That’s for me?’ said Margaret with delight when Davy handed it over. ‘And you won it? Thank you so much, darling. What’s his name?’

  Davy gave Sarah a wide, wicked grin. ‘How about Jake?’

  Sarah gave her a kindling look and despatched her off for a bath. ‘You reek of doughnuts, young lady.’

  ‘So does this rabbit,’ observed Margaret, when Davy was out of earshot. ‘Why Jake?’

  Sarah explained their chance encounter with Jake Hogan. ‘She told me she likes him more than Boring Brian.’

  Margaret gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Oh, dear. “Out of the mouth of babes”, and all that.’

  Sarah gave her a narrowed look. ‘Are you telling me you agree with her? Yet you wanted me to marry Brian.’

  Her grandmother passed a hand over her immaculate hair, looking defensive. ‘I just want security for you, Sarah.’

  ‘If I ever marry, which is unlikely in my particular circumstances, I’m fool enough to want a whole lot more than mere security.’ Sarah yawned suddenly. ‘Sorry. I need to scrub the reek of fast food from my person.’

  When Davy was safely delivered back to Roedale next day the entire process was a lot happier than usual for Sarah, with the prospect of Jake’s company to look forward to. Right from Davy’s first day at Roedale Sarah had made a habit of taking herself to bed early on Sundays to get the evening over with.

  But tonight, she thought jubilantly, I’ll be with Jake—and slammed on the mental brakes again when the thought triggered off alarm bells. Careful, she warned herself.

  But when Sarah turned into Campden Road she saw Jake leaning against the bonnet of his car, waiting for her, and knew that the alarm bells had rung too late. It would be all too easy to fall madly in love with Jake Hogan. She was halfway there already, if she were honest with herself. And because this particular form of madness had never troubled her before the early-warning signs had gone unnoticed.

  Almost before she’d stopped the car Jake opened her door to help her out. ‘At last. I made the mistake of turning up early. I was getting impatient.’

  ‘Hi,’ she said, smiling. ‘Come in for a minute.’

  Jake followed her through the front door, closed it behind him, then glanced at the stairs. ‘Is your grandmother in?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  He took her in his arms very carefully and, when she didn’t resist, let out a deep breath and held her close. ‘Because I’ve been wanting this since I left you on Friday night,’ he whispered. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t kiss you unless you ask me nicely. Even though I wanted to kiss you when we met yesterday, too. Could you tell?’

  She flushed. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Were you pleased to see me?’

  ‘Yes. So pleased I forgot to thank you for the flowers,’ she said breathlessly.

  He grinned down at her. ‘Or were you too chicken to mention them because Davy was with you?’

  ‘Not at all.’ She smiled. ‘But you don’t have to keep sending me flowers, Jake.’

  ‘Why not?’ he said casually, and released her, his eyes alight with something which made Sarah back away.

  ‘If we’re going walking we’d better get moving,’ she said hurriedly. ‘So read the Sunday papers for a minute, Jake, while I park the car.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a garage at the bottom of the garden.’

  ‘Give me your keys and I’ll do it.’

  Sarah gave instructions about the lane running behind Campden Road, told Jake to come back through the garden, and while he was gone rushed to add a few touches to the face which glowed at her from the mirror. She changed her school-visit linen skirt and leather sling-backs for pink cotton jeans and powder-blue suede loafers, then hurried to the back door just as Jake appeared outside.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking her keys. ‘The car stays there now until I fetch Davy next Friday.’

  ‘So what happens if you get caught in a thunderstorm on the way home from work again?’ he demanded.

  ‘I shall study weather forecasts with more attention in future.’

  ‘Do you have a cellphone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. If you’re in any doubt ring me and I’ll drive you home.’

  Sarah’s eyes danced. ‘What happens if your secretary tells me Mr Hogan’s too busy to talk to me?’

  ‘I’ll give strict instructions to the contrary. And before I bring you back tonight we’ll exchange numbers.’ He gave her the familiar look. ‘Ring mine any time you want, night or day, Sarah. Now, let’s go for that walk.’

  Jake drove her to the outskirts of town to park outside a restaurant which had once been a railway station. ‘We’ll leave the car here while we stroll along the walkway they’ve made along the track. It used to be a local branch line once. They do rather good home-made food during the day. Have you never been here before?’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘Not since the makeover. But I will in future. Davy could even ride her bike along here.’

  ‘I bring the kids here sometimes, with theirs,’ he told her, and laughed at the look on her face. ‘I own to a couple of sisters, too, both of them married with a brace of children each.’

  ‘Ah! So that’s why you were so relaxed with Davy.’

  ‘It wasn’t hard. She’s a cute little girl.’

  ‘Don’t say little in front of her, please! Davy thinks she’s pretty grown up.’ Sarah pulled a face. ‘We had quite an argument over clothes yesterday. She tried to con me into buying her some utterly gruesome shoes, as worn by her favourite pop star.’

  ‘Did you give in?’

  ‘No. I compromised. An art I’m learning with Davy now she’s growing up so fast. I let her have the embroidered jeans she wanted, but not the shoes. She must respect the line I draw.’ Sarah smiled up at him. ‘Which she does, most of the time.’

  ‘Maddy’s girls go running to their father if she says no—’ Jake halted, his eyes dark with remorse. ‘Hell, Sarah—I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m not the least sensitive on the subject,’ she assured him, with a smile designed to convince him she meant it. ‘So, tell me how your sister’s husband copes with feminine wiles.’

  ‘Sam learned early on to turn a deaf ear to his daughters in preference to getting a black eye from his wife. My sister inherited my mother’s temper. Paula’s boys are older, and more interested in electronic gear than clothes.’

  ‘It must be fun, being part
of a big family,’ she said enviously.

  Jake shrugged. ‘Fun sometimes, mayhem at others. Those of us who live locally are expected to turn up regularly for Sunday lunch with my parents. Liam, too, now and then. My mother doesn’t regard living in London as an impediment to visiting the family.’

  ‘Is your brother married?’

  ‘No. But attached. Temporarily.’

  Sarah raised an eyebrow at his tone. ‘You don’t like the lady?’

  ‘Liam does, which is more to the point.’ Jake glanced at his watch. ‘Come on, let’s go back to my place and have some supper.’

  ‘I had a big lunch,’ she warned him. ‘My grandmother cooks for us on Sunday, and demands clean plates.’

  ‘I’m sure you can find room for some of my mother’s cannelloni. She sends me home with something from her freezer every time I visit, convinced I don’t eat properly.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘I did the other night,’ he said quietly. He cast a glance along the leafy, deserted walkway, then took her hands and brought her round to face him. ‘I keep thinking of the way we shared the meal, Sarah Tracy.’

  She looked up at him steadily. ‘So do I.’

  He looked at her mouth, shook his head with regret, and began to walk with her again. ‘This was a very good idea of yours. I spend far too much time cooped up in places with recycled air. Next time,’ he went on, ‘we could bring Davy.’

  Sarah shook her head firmly. ‘I’d rather not involve Davy in my social life.’

  Jake frowned. ‘Why? Because your recent friend jilted you?’

  ‘Not at all. Davy was delighted about that.’ Sarah gave a sudden chuckle. ‘Apparently she’d been horribly afraid I’d marry Boring Brian and she’d have to call him Daddy.’

  Jake gave a shout of laughter that attracted amused glances from a couple passing by with a dog. ‘And is he boring?’

  ‘I suppose so, a little. Which is why I was about to let him down gently and call it a day. But before I could he took the wind out of my sails by dumping me instead.’ Sarah laughed ruefully. ‘Which cut me down to size pretty effectively!’

  ‘The man’s an idiot,’ said Jake dismissively, then shot her a glance. ‘Is Davy opposed to marriage altogether, then, where you’re concerned?’

  ‘Not at all. She informed me on Saturday that she fancies a daddy like Polly’s, for preference.’

  ‘How does Polly’s daddy feel about that?’

  Sarah chuckled. ‘It’s her mummy who would raise objections, I imagine, so because I like Alison Rogers very much I’ll pass on that one.’

  Jake halted. ‘You don’t mean Don Rogers’s wife?’

  ‘Yes. Do you know her?’

  ‘I certainly do. Her husband’s firm deals with my legal affairs. Good man, Don.’

  ‘Small world!’

  ‘In this town it’s unavoidable. In fact,’ added Jake as they resumed their stroll, ‘it’s strange I haven’t run into you before.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘Unfortunate turn of phrase! But it’s not surprising we haven’t met. I didn’t go out much socially until last autumn.’

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Davy started at Roedale. Before that all the time left over from my job was spent in chauffeuring her to various after-school things, like ballet and swimming lessons, overseeing homework, and just being there for her.’

  When they got to the car Jake handed her in, looking thoughtful. ‘And was that enough for you, Sarah?’

  ‘I’ve had a pretty normal social life during the last few months,’ she told him as he slid in beside her. ‘There was someone else before Brian.’

  ‘If you tell me that guy broke up with you as well I just won’t believe it.’

  ‘No. I managed to get in first with Oliver.’

  ‘It wasn’t working with him, either?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He was a widower, for a start—’

  ‘And Davy didn’t like him?’

  ‘She never met him.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘Oliver has a small son. And because I refused to involve Davy in outings as a foursome it died a natural death. Besides, the poor man still hankered after his dead wife.’

  Jake drove in silence for a moment, then gave her a swift, sidelong look. ‘Just for the record, Sarah, I don’t hanker after anyone.’

  She was very glad to hear it. ‘Not even the lady you mentioned?’

  ‘No. I own to siblings and parents who sometimes interfere in my life, but generally speaking I’m not bringing much excess baggage to our relationship, Sarah.’

  Relationship?

  ‘I’ve obviously stricken you dumb,’ he said after a while. ‘Is the idea so unattractive to you, then? The moment I saw you—’

  ‘I was soaking wet and screaming at you in fury,’ she reminded him.

  He shrugged. ‘I knew, just the same.’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘That I wanted you in my life. So I sent flowers and came hammering on your door. And when you finally opened it, I stood transfixed.’

  ‘Because I looked so much better dry?’

  ‘You clean up well,’ he agreed with a grin, then turned a wry blue look in her direction. ‘But then I saw Davy’s photograph and assumed you were married. Surely you noted my relief when you said you were Miss Tracy?’

  She gave him a thoughtful glance. ‘How old are you, Jake?’

  ‘Thirty. Why?’

  ‘You’re successful, and no turn-off in the looks department. So why aren’t you married? Or at least spoken for.’

  ‘I’ve never even come near to it. No sinister reason, I swear,’ he added. ‘I’m straight, by the way, in case you had doubts.’

  ‘None at all,’ she assured him, smiling.

  Jake parked the car outside his apartment block and took her hands, his eyes very serious as they held hers. ‘Right. So when it comes to a relationship I meant you could choose any kind you want, Sarah, as long as it includes me.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JAKE’S home was a large modern apartment with a balcony overlooking the River Penn. Big windows and gleaming wood floors, walls painted uniformly cream and almost bare of ornament, were all a far cry from the gloomy, crowded old house Sarah shared with her grandmother.

  ‘Have you been here long?’ asked Sarah, entranced by the light and space.

  ‘You mean it looks bare?’

  She shook her head. ‘I like it a lot.’

  He looked pleased. ‘When I first got a place of my own I lived in a furnished flat in a house very much like yours. A move which mystified my mother, who couldn’t see why I had to leave the comforts of home. Eventually I heard along the grapevine that this was coming on the market, and I was lucky enough to snap it up straight away. But I’m proceeding gradually with furniture, buying things when I find them. And at the same time trying not to offend my mother, who desperately wants to help.’

  ‘Why not let her?’

  Jake smiled ruefully. ‘Her taste runs to pictures and mirrors and cushions, and every inch of floor space covered by carpet. Which is fine in my parents’ house. But definitely not here.’

  Sarah nodded, deeply envious as she looked at the fringed Art Nouveau rug in subtle shades of chestnut and rose, chairs and sofa upholstered in suede the colour of honey to echo the leather metal-studded screen in a corner. Niches had been fitted with downlighters and glass shelves, but the latter were empty except for a solitary bronze nude.

  ‘Liam gave me that as a moving-in present,’ Jake told her. He leaned against a wall, arms folded, watching Sarah’s face as she took time to look at everything before moving across the room to admire the view.

  ‘No curtains,’ she commented, noting the blind furled away at windows that slid open on to a balcony.

  ‘That came with the flat. It looked good to me, so I left it.’

  ‘You were right.’ She turned to smile at him. ‘It’s a shame to hide the view.’

 
; ‘There’s a good one in here, too, only smaller,’ he informed her, showing her into a kitchen fitted out with beechwood and stainless steel, and a window with a different angle on the river.

  ‘This room doesn’t look used much!’ she commented.

  Jake smiled. ‘I did some hectic tidying up this morning to impress you.’

  Sarah was impressed. By everything in Jake’s home. ‘Don’t you have someone in to clean?’

  ‘Never on Sundays.’ He gave her the straight look which usually presaged some equally straight talking. ‘You don’t have to inspect the bedroom, by the way. It’s not an obligatory part of the tour.’

  ‘Of course I do,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ve heard a lot about this place, but I’ve never been in one of the apartments. I want to see everything—especially the bathroom. I assume it’s done out in the very best Pentiles can provide?’

  Jake took her to inspect it. ‘I had it altered before I moved in. The former tenant put in a sort of Roman sunken bath with a mosaic backdrop up to the ceiling. To me it looked like the communal bath we all jumped in after rugby matches at school. I couldn’t live with it.’ He smiled. ‘I was pleased the man used Pentiles for the purpose when he had it done originally, of course, but I swapped it all for conventional fittings, and a minimum of Pentiles’ finest round the bath.’

  ‘No power shower?’ said Sarah in mock disapproval.

  ‘That’s in my own bathroom. Come through the bedroom and take a look.’

  Sarah was unsurprised to find walls and even the linen on the wide bed all in the same uniform cream. A fitted carpet in tawny wool added a note of warmth, but, not counting the built-in cupboards which housed Jake’s clothes, the only piece of furniture was a solitary bedside table with a bronze lamp. The effect should have been spartan in such a large room. But when she thought of her own room at Campden Road, with her desk and computer crammed in with the bedroom furniture brought from her family home, she envied Jake the space and tranquillity. Envied him the entire flat, she thought with a sigh, as he opened a door on the far side of the room so she could take a quick look at the shower housed in bronze glass.

  ‘So. What’s the verdict?’ he asked as they went back to the kitchen.

 

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