by Alice Ross
‘If you ask me, he looked none too pleased to see her,’ Mrs Mackenzie had remarked.
Well of course he didn’t, Annie had resisted saying. He’d been rumbled.
‘Far too barefaced that Tanya for my liking,’ Mrs M had continued, as she scuttled out of the shop. ‘I can’t imagine a man like Jake Sinclair having the remotest interest in someone like that.’
Huh, thought Annie. A man like Jake Sinclair? And what sort of man was that exactly? From what she’d just witnessed, Jake was obviously just like all the rest of them. And she’d almost been sucked in. Again. For the last few days – following the ‘near kiss’ incident – Annie had imagined Jake to be someone special, someone she would like to spend time with, get to know better. Someone she would even have let kiss her. But ‘imagined’ was the key word here. She’d imagined he might like her too, imagined he enjoyed spending time with her and Sophie, imagined he might want to kiss her as much as she’d wanted to kiss him. But it seems like all Jake had been interested in was a conquest for the few weeks he was in Buttersley. Lydia would have been too easy. Annie had been more of a challenge. And one he’d very nearly conquered. Before he headed back up the road to Scotland – leaving her to pick up the pieces of her life, again.
‘Ah, here she is. And looking every bit as delicious as her cakes.’
Annie’s musings were broken by a tall figure loping through the door, wearing obscenely tight leather trousers.
‘Jasper,’ she gasped, not at all sure she could cope with any more surprises today. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘Nor did I, sweetie.’ He marched around to her side of the counter, clutched her upper arms and air-kissed both her cheeks. ‘Poor Rupes was a bit bored with our usual haunts so I suggested we come up here and see what old Jakey was up to. You’ve met him, I assume?’ He released his hold of her arms and took a step back.
‘Jake?’ Annie was aware of a flush spreading over her cheeks at the mere mention of his name. ‘Of course I’ve met him. But it would have been nice if you’d told me he was coming. I thought he was a burglar.’
‘Hah,’ snorted Jasper. ‘Didn’t call the Old Bill, did you? That would have been hilarious.’
Despite the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Annie couldn’t prevent a smile tugging at her lips. Unlike Jasper’s friends, whom she’d always found arrogant and ungrateful, there was something annoyingly endearing about the man himself, however much she wished there wasn’t. ‘Fortunately no emergency services were involved. But they easily could have been. If you’d given me prior notice of his visit, not only would it have saved my nerves, but I could have had the place ready for him.’
‘Lord, don’t worry about that,’ countered Jasper, examining a vase of cupcake ‘flowers’. ‘You’ve enough to do without running around after us wasters. Like looking after that gorgeous daughter of yours. How are you both anyway?’
‘We’re fine,’ lied Annie, feeling as far away from fine as Jasper was from reality. ‘How are you? Working hard as usual?’
Jasper pressed a hand to his chest and affected a hurt expression. ‘Do not mention the “W” word, Annie. You know how it brings on my palpitations.’
Annie shook her head in mock despair. ‘You are incorrigible, Jasper. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Have been since the day I was born. Yet another family trait passed down the line, I’m afraid. Blame the bloody ancestors, I say.’
‘So,’ she swatted away his hand from the vase. ‘Is it just you and Rupert who are visiting, or the usual gang?’
‘Usual gang, of course, darling. Can’t seem to shake them off. And Rupes only brought three cases of bubbly, which will last all of five minutes. So naturally, yours truly here got dispatched to the village to top up supplies. Not that I’m complaining. It gave me the perfect excuse to pop in here and invite you to our little soiree.’
Annie screwed up her nose. ‘Thanks, Jasper, but I don’t think so. How long are you staying?’
‘No idea. A few days probably, until Rupes is bored again. Honestly, why can’t I have normal, sensible friends?’
‘Perhaps because you’re not normal and sensible,’ suggested Annie, chuckling.
‘How well you know me,’ chortled Jasper. ‘Now, must be on my way otherwise I’ll miss all the fun. You know where to find us if you change your mind.’ He blew her a kiss, turned on his heel and exited the shop.
In Buttersley Manor’s great hall, Jake’s head and heart vibrated to the beat of the hideous techno music. From his observation point – a high-backed leather chair in the corner – he could scarce believe what he was witnessing. It was like he’d been transported back two decades to his university days – days from which Jasper and his crowd had never moved on. Despite their advancing years, it was glaringly obvious that not one of them had grown up. Most likely because they’d never had to. So obscenely wealthy were their families that every whim was catered for without them lifting a solitary finger. Just like at university. Unlike Jake, who had worked his balls off at the local comprehensive for his place, a seven-figure cheque apiece to the library appeal had secured their places: cheques that had bought three years of partying and ignominious academic success.
Of course he was aware that some might class them as lucky. Their privilege and money meant they would never experience hardship, never know the pressures of work, never have to forfeit a holiday for repairs to the garage roof. But, watching them now, Jake’s overriding emotion was disgust intermingled with pity. Their lives were shallow, empty, completely without purpose. They would never know the thrill of achievement, the satisfaction of hard work, or the contentment of a proper relationship. Whilst they might appear to be living the high life, partying every night, jetting off to their luxury villas, mixing with the beautiful people, scratch beneath the surface and you’d find a neurotic, self-absorbed mess.
Still, none of the above got around the fact that Jasper, who Jake had always considered the best of the bunch, had been kind enough to offer him use of the manor. An offer Jake had accepted without many qualms. An offer he now felt incredibly guilty about accepting without many qualms. So, instead of being so sanctimonious and judgemental, he should make more of an effort, he chided himself. With that thought in mind, he forced a smile onto his face and took a half-hearted sip of champagne.
Several hours later, Jake hadn’t moved from the high-backed chair. While everyone else knocked backed the champagne with wild abandon, he still nursed his original glass. He’d never been a fan of daytime drinking. Unlike Tanya, it seemed. At some point in the proceedings, she’d swapped her red mini-skirt for a tiny gold sequinned dress – the obvious item to pack for a few days in the Yorkshire countryside. Performing some outlandish dirty dance moves with Jasper in the middle of the floor, it appeared that the purpose of her visit – to persuade Jake to agree to the film deal – had evidently slipped her mind, along with any concept of professionalism. He’d bet her superiors at the agency would be very interested to hear about her antics. Not that he intended telling them. He couldn’t be bothered. Tanya’s career – or lack of it – didn’t interest him in the slightest. Nor, at that moment, did anything of a literary nature. Perhaps he should draw a line under the whole writing thing. He really wasn’t enjoying it any more. In fact, what had started as a pleasant method of filling time and escaping the real world, had now become way too stressful. He should investigate alternative ways of spending his days. Stock up on jigsaws or model aeroplanes, something without deadlines – and, more importantly, no interference from the real world.
‘You look like you need a bit of cheering up, old chap.’
Jake looked up to find Rupert hovering over him, a spaced-out expression on his gaunt face. He held up a clear plastic packet of small white pills and shook it at Jake. ‘One of these might help.’
As Jake gawped at the packet, he felt as though a cement mixer had replaced his innards. Vomit rose in his throat.
‘Y
ou all right, old boy?’ slurred Rupert, a cloud of what might have been concern settling over his face.
Jake couldn’t reply. Shoving Rupert aside, he scrambled to his feet with his crutches and, ignoring the pain in his ankle, all but ran from the room.
He headed straight for the main door. Outside, he leaned against the stone wall, closed his eyes, and gulped down great mouthfuls of fresh air. No amount of air, though, could prevent the images rioting in his head: Images of the chubby policeman breaking the news of Nina’s death; images of coffins, headstones and mangled cars. Images the bag of white pills had brought crashing back to him – along with another ton of that unmentionable emotion.
Arriving back at the cottage with Sophie later that afternoon, the scene at the manor house was much as Annie expected: a row of outrageously expensive cars parked outside, semi-clad stick-thin women running around; and loud music blasting from open windows.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Sophie.
‘Uncle Jasper is here,’ said Annie, doing her best to sound positive. ‘With a few friends.’
Sophie’s eyes narrowed. ‘How many friends?’
‘I’m not sure, sweetheart.’
Sophie wrinkled her little nose. ‘Is Mr Sinclair there too?’
‘I believe so,’ replied Annie matter-of-factly. She pushed aside the image of Tanya wrapped around Jake and ignored the ensuing pain in her gut.
‘Oh,’ muttered Sophie.
‘Quite,’ agreed Annie.
Bedtime couldn’t come round quickly enough for Annie. Not Sophie’s, but her own. She could scarcely wait to crawl under the duvet and block out the day’s events. Providing, of course, she could get to sleep. With the music still booming from the manor, hopes were not high. Fortunately, it didn’t bother Sophie. Wearing her panda earmuffs, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Annie wandered back downstairs, already missing her daughter’s chatter. The child’s never-ending stream of questions allowed no room for introspection, which was great because Annie was all introspected out today. She was tired of thinking, weary of analysing. But she couldn’t go to bed yet. It was far too early. She needed something to fill the void left by Sophie, something to divert her thoughts from Jake Sinclair and Tanya Long Legs. She ambled into the lounge and flicked through the TV guide. A programme on ancient Rome was about to start. That sounded interesting. She’d watch that then go to bed – regardless of the hour.
The programme was interesting – not least of all because of the number of people who appeared to make their living examining ancient Roman poo. Try as she might though, Annie paid the programme no more than scant attention. Her mind insisted on straying to the manor. And the conjuring up of images of what might be happening there was not helped by the pictures of ancient Roman friezes. Yet again she wondered what Jake was doing. And yet again wished she hadn’t. He’d be with Tanya of course. Doing what two people did when they’d been apart a while.
She flicked off the TV. There was no point torturing herself. She might as well go to bed. She marched through to the kitchen to give Pip his last biscuit of the day and lock the door. But to her surprise she found Pip’s basket empty. He must be in the garden. She headed straight outside where it didn’t take long for her to discover that he wasn’t there either. Puzzled, she called his name a couple of times. Nothing. How strange. He’d never gone missing before. Anxiety pricked at her as she recalled a recent article she’d read somewhere about people stealing dogs to order. But who on earth would do that in Buttersley? And who on earth would order a scruffy little specimen like Pip? No, he must have gone walkabout. Perhaps down to the village. But if he’d strayed that far, she had no doubt someone would have spotted him and called her to let her know he was safe. Most likely he was mooching about the manor grounds ascertaining if this latest batch of visitors had brought any food. Well, there was no chance of her getting to sleep while he was missing, so she might as well have a quick scout around to see if she could find him.
Jake had no idea how long he stood against the wall. It would have been much longer had a fly not landed on his nose and momentarily ended his reverie. The reprieve though lasted only as long as it took for him stagger around the back of the house and flop down on a wooden bench. As the depressing images continued to tumble around his head he became more and more nauseous. There was no way he could stay at the manor now. No way he could bear to be in the same building as those white pills, or – more specifically – the people popping them. He’d give the pub in the village a ring. See if they had a free room. And if they didn’t, he’d sleep in his car. There were a couple of sleeping bags in the back for emergencies. And this was definitely an emergency.
Conscious all the while that she’d left Sophie alone in the house, Annie darted around the manor grounds at impressive speed. Still there was no sign of Pip. Having covered the forecourt and the drive, she flew round to the back. And came to an abrupt halt. Her heart jammed in her throat and her knees almost buckled. Because there, on a bench about ten feet away, was Jake. Despite the relatively short distance, it was clear he hadn’t seen her. He looked a million miles away again, like he was in some kind of hypnotic trance. Of all the images of him that had streamed through her head over the last few hours, this scene certainly hadn’t featured. But what was he doing out here all alone? Had he had a row with Tanya? Or – she felt a stab of conscience – perhaps she’d transmitted some of her bad thoughts to Tanya. Perhaps the girl had choked on a cookie, after all. But no. If anything that dramatic had happened, Annie would have heard the ambulance. Anyway, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her. All she wanted to do was find Pip, return to the cottage, lock the door, and retreat under her duvet – for a month or so – or at least until the manor was empty again and things could return to normal. First on that list, though, was Mr Pip. Pushing aside all previous misunderstandings, disappointments, quibbles and memories of intimate moments, she drew in a reassuring breath, stuck out her chin and marched assertively over to Jake.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Pip, have you?’ she asked briskly.
The surprise on Jake’s face left her in no doubt that he had indeed been a million miles away. ‘A-Annie,’ he stammered. ‘You-you startled me.’
About to repeat her question, Annie bit back a gasp as Jake tilted up his head to her. He looked dreadful – or as dreadful as someone that devastatingly handsome could look. His normally golden skin was chalk-white and clammy, and there were dark smudges beneath his eyes. But it was the look in his eyes that affected her most: a look of unadulterated sadness and pain. A look that, despite all her earlier anger, made her want to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. A look that she very much doubted had been caused by something as trivial as a row with a girlfriend. With those same sad eyes upon her, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She cleared her throat and managed a shaky, fleeting smile. ‘I, um wondered if you’d seen Pip,’ she said, softening her tone considerably. ‘I can’t find him anywhere.’
His gaze still locked on hers, it seemed to take a few seconds for Jake to digest the information. ‘Sorry,’ he said at length. ‘I haven’t seen him.’
‘Not to worry.’ Annie waved a dismissive hand. She had no idea what Jake’s problem was, but it seemed a lot more serious than a dog that had been missing for an hour or so. ‘I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sure he will.’
Annie gave another shaky smile, turned on her heel and with her legs wobbling slightly, was about to resume her search, when Jake piped up.
‘God, sorry, Annie. What am I thinking? Let me help you look for him.’
She spun around to find him hauling himself to his feet. Excitement was swiftly elbowed aside by guilt.
‘There’s no need. Honestly. You look like you’ve … a lot on your mind. Why don’t you go back to the party?’
Now upright, Jake gave a derisive snort. ‘Me? Go back to the party? I don’t think so
.’
Detecting the bitterness in his tone, Annie’s eyes widened. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but are you all right?’
She watched a cloud of anger settle over his gorgeous face. ‘No,’ he said, his eyes darkening. ‘I’m not.’
Annie gulped. Right. That had cleared that up then. Goodness. He looked positively murderous. She only hoped that whoever had upset him had their plans well under way to leave the country. She chewed her bottom lip, regarding him all the while as he stared morosely at a spot on the ground.
‘Look, I have to get back to the cottage. But if you’d like a cup of tea or something…’ The words were out of her mouth before she’d properly engaged her brain. Not a good move. She should definitely have wheedled some inkling of the problem from him first. If it was a row with Tanya, she could well be listening to their relationship problems for hours – a prospect that filled her with as much joy as wading through two miles of mud with bricks in her wellies. Somehow though, she suspected a man like Jake Sinclair would not waste time crying into his tea over a woman. This was something much more profound, and much more serious. Meaning Annie was probably way out of her depth.
At Annie’s invitation, Jake’s raging fury skidded to a halt. Noting the concern on her beautiful face, his heart skipped a beat and his anger subsided – an impressive U-turn given that, only a few minutes before, he’d wanted to march into the manor and floor every one of its residents. Now, with his eyes glued to Annie’s, he could think of nothing better than sitting at her kitchen table, pouring out his heart. But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. He’d imposed on her enough already, and, for all he felt as though he’d known her forever, he actually hadn’t. Certainly not long enough for him to dump all his emotional clutter at her door. He opened his mouth to politely decline the invitation at exactly the same moment her lips curved into an encouraging smile. A strange sensation tugged at his chest as the memory of that intimate moment they had shared in the shop that morning slammed into his memory.