by Cathy Lake
‘You look amazing, Clare. Divorce really agrees with you.’ Jenny winced but Clare smiled. Trust Jenny to put a positive spin on the end of her marriage, but then, as a hairstylist who worked with people all day and heard their problems, she was used to counselling them and trying to make them feel better about their lives. ‘Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to say that. Anyway, you do look fab.’
‘It’s fine.’ Clare smiled, then took a gulp of her drink. Delicious!
Jenny tore open one of the bags of crisps and started munching. She gestured at the open bag, but Clare shook her head. ‘I’m all right at the moment, thanks.’
‘Have you had any menopausal symptoms?’ Jenny asked in between crisps.
‘I put on some weight but think it was down to comfort eating. I do get a bit warm sometimes, especially at night, but it only really happens a few times a month.’
‘Horrid, isn’t it?’ Jenny cocked an eyebrow. ‘We go through all those years of periods, then we get lumbered with the big M. Not bloody fair.’
‘Not at all.’
Clare took another sip of her gin and tonic and sat back in her chair smiling. This was nice. They might be talking about things she’d always thought only happened when women got older, but it was just lovely to spend time with Jenny. She had missed this type of friendship. She’d had female friends over the years, of course, but none of them as close as she and Jenny had been and although it had been years since they’d spent any time together, they seemed to be as close as ever. The thought warmed her right through and she sent out a silent thank you to Jason for bringing this friendship back to her. He might have caused it inadvertently, but if he hadn’t decided to make some changes then Clare wouldn’t have come back to Little Bramble and she wouldn’t have bumped into Jenny.
‘Jenny, do you remember what we were like as teenagers?’
‘Do I ever?’ Jenny giggled. ‘We used to have so much fun, didn’t we?’
‘I’m sure that getting ready to go out was as much fun as actually being out.’
They smiled at each other, remembering how things used to be.
‘We used to swap outfits, do each other’s hair and makeup, down as much MD20/20 or alcoholic lemonade as we could get our hands on.’ Clare shivered.
‘Never as much fun coming back up though, was it?’
Clare shook her head. ‘Like that time when we went out and drank too many of those blue shots, then you threw up all over your mum’s cream sheepskin rug?’
Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘She went mad! The stains would not come out. I blamed the dog, said it had got an ice pop out of the freezer and chewed it up.’
‘She didn’t really buy that, though, did she?’
‘Who knows?’ Jenny chuckled. ‘It seems like a hundred years ago now.’
‘Time flies.’
Jenny raised her glass and held it out. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’
‘Ew!’ Jenny stuck out her tongue. ‘Does your drink taste funny?’
Clare shook her head. ‘It’s really nice actually.’
‘There’s something wrong with mine. I think I’ll go and get a lemonade instead. I really fancy some citrus right now, you know, I could actually bury my head in a basket of lemons and just sniff . . .’ Jenny’s jaw dropped, and she covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh noooo . . . noooo, it can’t be that.’
Concern filled Clare. ‘What’s wrong, Jen?’
‘Nothing.’ Jenny pressed her lips together and pulled her purse from her bag. ‘I’ll just go and get a lemonade. Same again?’
‘It’s my round.’ Clare stood up. She wanted to ask Jenny what was wrong but could see that her friend wasn’t ready to share just yet. ‘I’ll get it. Do you want ice and lemon?’
‘Just lemon, thanks. Lots of lemon.’
Clare nodded, then grabbed her purse and went to the bar. The gentle hum of conversation in the pub was interspersed with the clinking of glasses and the pinging of the till. When the barmaid had finished serving a very tall man with a mane of wavy blond hair and a big beard, Clare asked for a lemonade with extra slices of lemon and a gin and tonic.
After she’d been served, she turned to head back to the tables and her breath caught in her throat, because sitting at the table where the tall blond man was now was the vet. And he was smiling at her, his brown eyes warm with recognition.
‘I thought it was you,’ he said as he stood up, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her lightheaded.
‘Oh . . . hi.’ As heat flooded Clare’s cheeks like boiling hot water, she tried to will it away. Why was she blushing like a teenager around this man? Her eyes ran over him, as if she’d lost control over them, taking in the white T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, his flat stomach, his faded jeans and brown boots. God, he was gorgeous! How hadn’t she noticed before? ‘What’re you doing here?’ she squeaked.
‘We’ve come for the quiz.’ That voice . . . it was so deep and low it seemed to rumble through her, making her feel things she hadn’t felt in a very long time. ‘Have you?’
‘No. No, I’m here with Jenny. My friend. We’re catching up. She wanted lemons.’ Clare raised the glass of lemonade and as she did, the lemons bobbed, making the lemonade fizz and some of it burst over the edge of the glass and landed on Sam’s shoe. ‘Oh no! I’m so sorry.’
She leant forwards to try to wipe his shoe, sending more of the drink spilling over his other foot as well as his crotch and making him jump backwards.
‘Careful!’ he shouted, shaking his foot and staring in horror at the damp patch on his groin.
‘I am so sorry.’ She looked at the glass, now more lemons than lemonade.
‘It’s OK. No harm done, I guess.’ He looked down. ‘Well, my foot’s a bit wet and I look like I’ve wet myself, but it’ll dry.’
‘I don’t know what happened then.’ She shook her head vigorously. ‘I just splashed you and wanted to try to dry your shoe and I forgot I was holding the drinks and –’
Just shut up, Clare. Stop talking right now.
‘It’s fine, honestly.’ He smiled, flashing beautiful straight teeth while tugging his T-shirt from his waistband and flattening it over his groin. ‘It’s a bit creased from being tucked in, but it’ll have to do. You want me to get you another?’ He nodded at the glass.
He was being incredibly understanding about this, especially in light of how he’d reacted when he’d thought she was leaving a dog poo on the path. But then, she reasoned, he had apologised for that and perhaps he really was a decent person after all.
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll get it. It was just lemonade.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?’ He cocked an eyebrow in a way that she found incredibly sexy. ‘I only have so many pairs of trousers and when you’re around, they seem to be in danger.’ He chuckled, then ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘I’ll get it and bring it to you. Where are you sitting?’
She pointed at Jenny, now unable to speak for pure embarrassment. She found that she wanted to apologise again but knew that it wouldn’t change what had happened, just make her look even more of an idiot. Jenny was grinning back at her and the flush on her cheeks spread to the roots of her hair and sweat prickled under her armpits. She nodded, then forced her feet to move, begging her legs not to give way.
‘What happened?’ Jenny asked, as soon as Clare sat down. ‘It looked like he said something that embarrassed you and then you threw your drink – rather, my drink, all over him and now he’s getting you another.’
Clare sighed. ‘I’m mortified. I don’t know why that happened but the poor man! I can’t believe I just soaked his groin. And I almost ripped his trousers off the other day.’
‘What? Tell me more.’ Jenny cackled.
When Clare had filled Jenny in on chinogate, Sam appeared with the fresh glass of lemonade.
‘Here you go.’ He placed it in front of Clare.
‘Oh, it’s for Jenny,
but thank you.’
‘No problem.’ He was still smiling. Why was he smiling when she’d just almost ruined his jeans? ‘Here you go, Jenny.’
‘Thanks, Sam.’
‘Uh, look, if you fancy taking part in the quiz we’d be grateful for two more on our team.’
‘I’m rubbish at quizzes,’ Clare said, frowning.
‘I’m not brilliant but that’s the point of a team. Everyone has something to offer.’
‘We could go and join them,’ Jenny said.
‘Perhaps in a bit.’ Clare flashed Jenny a glance that said Hold on, stop pushing things.
‘It starts in about twenty minutes. Be great if you could join us. Besides which, no pressure, but I think you kind of owe me this evening.’ He gestured at his creased T-shirt with a smile on his face and Clare nodded, then buried her head in her hands.
As he walked away, Jenny nudged Clare.
‘He’s lovely, isn’t he?’
‘What?’
‘Samuel Wilson. Our gorgeous village vet.’
Clare shrugged. ‘He seems nice enough now, but he was very rude the first time I bumped into him, although I guess that was partly my fault.’
‘Well, it seems like you’ve certainly made an impression on him. You know, I haven’t seen that man with anyone since he moved to the village.’
‘Perhaps he likes to keep his private life very private.’
‘Perhaps . . .’ Jenny picked a slice of lemon out of her glass, then sucked on it. ‘This is just what I needed to get rid of that funny taste.’
‘About that . . .’ Clare met her friend’s eyes. ‘You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you, but I’m here if you want a sounding board.’
‘Thank you. I’m all right at the moment but I’ll keep you posted. I’m not even sure that what I’m worrying about is rational and I don’t want to say it out loud in case I curse myself.’
‘Well, you wait until you’re ready and I’ll be here.’
Clare said the words then it dawned on her that she’d initially only expected to stay for a few weeks, but the more time passed, the more experiences she had being back in Little Bramble, the more she could imagine herself staying a bit longer.
‘What was all that about?’ Magnus asked Sam.
‘What?’ Sam sipped his beer.
‘You and that woman. She threw a drink over you, then you bought her another.’ His Norwegian accent made his teasing tone seem stronger and Sam knew that his friend could see right through him.
Sam smiled and shrugged. ‘She just has a thing about ruining my trousers.’
Magnus leant his elbows on the table then rested his chin in his hands. ‘I’m listening.’
Sam shook his head. ‘Nothing to tell. Clare is Elaine Hughes’ daughter. Earlier this week she slipped in the surgery when she brought Goliath in and grabbed at my chinos to save herself from faceplanting on the floor. Then just now, as you witnessed, she accidentally spilt some lemonade over my shoes and my crotch. I bought her a replacement drink because, well, I’m that kind of guy.’
‘I see.’ Magnus nodded slowly. ‘I also saw something between you two, one of those sparks they talk about in romance novels.’
‘What do you know about romance novels?’ Sam chuckled.
‘I have a very broad taste in books, I’ll have you know. And there was definitely a spark of something between you and Clare. The air crackled when your eyes met.’ He laughed.
‘She’s an attractive woman, I won’t deny that, but that’s all there is to it.’
‘How long have I known you, Sam?’ Marcus squinted. ‘Over two years now and I have never seen you with so much as a date.’
‘And I doubt you ever will.’ Sam cleared his throat.
‘Never say never, Sam. I really don’t see what’s stopping you. One life is all you get and finding love is a glorious thing.’
Sam swallowed his dismissive reply and finished his beer instead. ‘Another?’
‘Better get a full round in.’
‘What?’ Sam followed Magnus’s gaze and spotted Clare and Jenny walking towards them. His pulse sped up. Were they going to join their quiz team?
‘Hi,’ Clare said as she smiled at Sam. She had two spots of colour high on her cheeks and her eyes seemed wary.
‘Are you going to join us?’ Magnus asked, confident as ever. Sam had never seen Magnus even slightly awkward around women. He had charm that came as easily as his smile and Sam sometimes envied him that. It would be refreshing to coast through life with that much confidence instead of the awkwardness that had plagued Sam all his life. Although, of course, Magnus wasn’t yet thirty and still had the confidence of youth.
‘If that’s OK?’ Clare looked from Magnus to Sam, then back again, clearly finding Magnus easier to interact with. And why wouldn’t she? The handsome Norwegian was easier on the eye than Sam and his ability to make people relax around him made him a natural first choice. But as Clare sat down, she took the seat closest to Sam’s and he had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself grinning.
Then another thought occurred to him and his eyes flashed to her left hand. Miranda had mentioned a husband and son but there was no wedding ring or engagement ring there. It didn’t mean she wasn’t with someone, of course, and it could be that she didn’t wear her rings. The thought made his spirits sink and he reprimanded himself silently for even thinking about her relationship status. It didn’t matter at all, because Sam was not looking for love.
Half an hour later and the quiz had begun. Clare had agreed to write the answers down and there were six rounds: recent news, nature, sport, music, history and general knowledge. Despite what she’d said, Clare was actually very knowledgeable, especially about nature. It seemed that she knew a wealth of facts about animals and the natural world, could name the largest shark ever caught following an attack and the most toxic plants to humans. Along with Magnus’s music knowledge and Jenny’s ability to name key sports personalities from the past five decades, they were doing well. When the landlord, Jimmy Burton, called half-time, Sam was certain they might be in with a chance of winning.
‘That was fun,’ Jenny said. ‘I’m in need of another lemonade though.’
‘I’ll give you a hand.’ Clare pushed her chair back.
‘It’s OK,’ Magnus said. ‘I’ll help you, Jenny.’
When they’d gone to the bar, Sam turned to Clare.
‘You’re really good, you know.’
‘Pardon?’ She met his gaze, and he looked at her, taking in her small nose and the way it turned up slightly at the end, the smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the intense green of her eyes. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent and he was hit by an urge to stroke her cheek to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. He couldn’t tell how old she was; she could have been thirty-something or forty-something, and while she’d sometimes had an air of being world-weary about her on the few occasions they’d met, as if she’d been through some difficult times, she also had an air of innocence, as if she had been sheltered from certain harsh realities. It made him want to ask her about her life, her experiences, her hopes and dreams and, simultaneously, to take her hand and pull her close to him, to hold her and bury his face in her silky hair and –
Whoa! What was going on?
This wasn’t who Sam was at all. His mother had always told him that when he met that special someone, he’d know and that it would be different to any other relationship he’d ever had, but he’d dismissed it as her being sentimental and soppy. Sam was neither of those things and he was heading towards fifty, for goodness’ sake sake. He wasn’t about to become a romantic, to fall head over heels with a woman he barely knew.
‘Sam?’ She frowned at him. ‘You said I’m really good?’
‘Oh, yes – at the quiz. You said you weren’t any good at them but you’re proving yourself wrong.’
She looked down at the table and ran a finger through a puddle of
condensation, then reached for a napkin from the container in the centre of the table and soaked the water up.
‘It’s been years since I had a go at a pub quiz, to be honest, and I’m actually surprising myself.’
‘It’s nice when that happens, isn’t it?’
She smiled and her eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘It is. I’m learning more about myself all the time.’
‘I think we all do.’
‘Your knowledge is pretty impressive.’ She peered at him from behind her long dark lashes.
‘I read a lot. Plus, Magnus makes me swot up during breaks at the surgery. He was my Secret Santa last year and he bought me one of those thick quiz books to develop my knowledge.’
She giggled. ‘He seems very nice.’
‘He is, and he’s been a good friend.’
‘Do you come to the quiz every week?’
‘Not every week because of work and my sis—. Uh, other commitments. But I come when I can.’
‘It’s a lot of fun.’
‘We should try to make it a regular thing . . .’ He swallowed, realising what he’d just said. ‘I mean, if you fancy it, that is. No pressure.’
‘Thank you. If I’m here for a while, I’ll consider it.’
‘Are you not staying in the village for long then, or don’t you know?’ he asked, his mouth suddenly very dry.
‘I’m not sure yet. I came here thinking it would only be for a few weeks, but my son arrived earlier in the week and he’s already talking about Christmas.’
‘Christmas, eh?’
‘Yes, he wants to quit his course – well, to defer his final year at uni and, as he put it, sort his head out.’
‘You don’t look old enough to have a son at university.’
She laughed out loud then and shook her head. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Well, thanks for that, but I certainly feel it.’