Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘Jack, are you coming to the pub or not?’ yelled Devon up the stairs. ‘Dad and I are leaving now.’
‘I’ll see you over there in about five minutes,’ he called back and returned to the text he’d been labouring over for the last two weeks. How many times had he started it and deleted it? Going on for a world record, he reckoned.
Seize the day, Jack. Just bloody get on with it. What’s the worst she can say?
If she said no, at least he’d know. Ever since he’d come back from Yorkshire, he kept remembering that kiss.
Where would it have led if he hadn’t blurted out that he was going to Australia?
Since then her text messages had been regular but bereft of something.
Did she still have feelings for him? He was so confused now, he didn’t know what to think, but he knew he was miserable without her.
He took a deep breath and addressed his phone screen.
‘Hey, you. Been thinking about you. What would you say to coming to Austral…’
No, too casual. Too chancer-y. He deleted the words.
‘Bets, I should have told you, I love you. I want us to be together. Come to Austral…’
No, too demanding. Too desperate. He didn’t want her to be guilted into a decision.
‘Can’t stop thinking about you. Would you consider … think about…’
His fingers danced backwards and forwards across the screen. Why was this so bloody difficult?
In despair he leaned against the desk. Problem was, if he were totally honest, this was a conversation best held in person.
But she’d been so tied up, and he ridiculously busy performing both nurse and vet duties, that they hadn’t been able to time a call to talk properly.
And, come on, Jack, be honest again, you’ve been too cowardly. What if she said no?
Through the window, he watched his father and Devon crossing the village green to the pub and sighed again.
Get a grip, man. Stop farting about and go for it.
It was simple. He loved Bets. He thought she loved him.
He wanted to be with her and he thought she wanted to be with him.
He should just bloody get on with it and call her this evening…
No, he couldn’t, she had a night shoot and they’d be working until two or three in the morning.
Just then three dots appeared on his phone screen.
Bets was typing. He waited, an anticipatory smile on his face.
Bets. He felt a frisson of excitement as he did whenever he pictured her face.
He was an idiot and in so much trouble. What had he got to lose?
He was going to ask her to go to Australia with him.
He would ask if she’d like to fly out a few weeks after him and he could go on ahead and sort out somewhere for them both to live.
His spirits lifted as he thought about picking her up at an airport in the not-too-distant future, his brain taking off on an imaginary future.
‘Woohoo, they’ve asked me to sign on for a second series and they’re going to write a bigger part for me.’
Jack’s stomach felt as if it had been filled with concrete. He read the text again, his skin flushing hot and then cold. He read the text for the third time and then closed his eyes.
Fuuuck!
He hunted out the appropriate celebratory emojis to respond and replied, ‘Go you. Awesome news. So proud of you.’
He sent the text and then shoved his phone in his pocket.
Rubbing at the bristle on his chin, he swallowed and gazed around him. Well, that definitely put the kibosh on things.
* * *
At the pub he strode inside and ordered a pint of Side Pocket. He couldn’t help glancing down at his phone, annoyed with himself for looking again. No new notifications. Not that it made any difference now.
In the last few weeks, he – who’d always sneered at people on their phones all the time – had become addicted to the bloody thing.
Constantly waiting for Bets’ next text message or stalking her on Instagram, ever since she’d set up an account at the behest of the production company.
She’d become quite adept at posting pictures of herself with the animal stars of the show as well as her human counterparts.
‘You could ask Bets to go to Australia with you, you know.’ Jack lifted his head in surprise as Greta held out his pint, holding on to it to emphasise her words. Her timing was shit, he thought.
‘I could,’ he said dismissively.
Greta must have seen something in his eyes because she released the glass.
‘But you haven’t.’ The amused sympathy on her face wound him up even more.
‘No,’ he said, trying not to let his simmering anger show. Be nice, he told himself. Greta probably thought she was helping. She was fond of Bets.
‘Why not? She might surprise you and say yes.’
‘No,’ he repeated. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on her.’
‘Or you, you mean. Cramp your style?’
Jack glared at her, biting back the angry expletive, conscious of the furious pulse in his neck, at the absolute unfairness of her accusation.
He shoved a ten-pound note at her to pay for his drink and before she could give him any change wheeled around, leaving his pint on the bar.
He couldn’t face his dad or Devon right now.
Tempting as it was to go and hide in the gents and give way to the emotions threatening to burst out, he swung out of the back entrance and diverted through the car park to the recreation field behind the pub.
He needed to get away before he punched something and broke his knuckles on some inanimate object.
The children’s playground was empty and he went and sat on one of the swings, his legs crossed beneath him. He slumped like a moody teenager in the shade of a two-hundred-year-old oak tree, its branches spreading protectively over him.
How dare Greta? Cramp his style! He’d give anything for Bets to go with him.
Getting his dream job and having her, too, would be the icing on the cake.
But now that plan was a non-starter. Asking her to go with him when she was on the cusp of such an exciting new career would be incredibly selfish.
He couldn’t do it to her. These last few weeks, her enjoyment and happiness on set had been palpable.
There was no way he could ask her to give that up, even though the thought of leaving her behind left him hollowed out and empty.
When he finally forced himself to go back to the pub, Greta poured him a fresh pint without a word and he went outside to join his dad and Devon.
‘Hey, Jack,’ Doris greeted him, looking chipper without her cast. ‘Have you heard the news?’
He lifted an enquiring eyebrow, keeping his churning emotions well and truly under wraps.
‘Those film people want Bets to be in the next series. Isn’t that something? We should get her to invite some of the cast to the Summer Ball. Isn’t she good friends with that very handsome Jeremy Quentin?’ Doris gave him a coy smirk.
‘She is,’ said Jack, giving her an equally smug smile back, ‘and his girlfriend, Stacey.’ That was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. Bets wasn’t the least bit interested in Jeremy.
‘It’s nice she’s made so many new friends,’ said Doris. ‘She’s always talking about Johnny and Chris and Robin.’
‘It is,’ said Jack amazing himself by sounding so equable, when all he wanted to do was declare that Bets was his and she wasn’t interested in any of these losers.
But he did take great satisfaction in saying, ‘And Chris and Robin are both women and I’m pretty sure Johnny is gay.
’ Since he’d returned from Yorkshire, he’d met quite a few of Bets’ new friends online. He knew them to say hello to.
Ironically he and Bets were closer now than they’d ever been.
Doris’ face fell.
‘If you’re trying to make me jealous, Doris, it’s not working,’ said Jack, trying to sound good-natured, as if he were humouring the older woman. Actually, he wondered if perhaps it would be easier if Bets was interested in someone else – then he’d know there was no hope.
‘So you’re just going to go off to the other side of the world and leave the best thing behind,’ said Doris.
‘That’s about the size of it,’ said Jack, wishing she’d go away and leave him to drink his pint in peace and wallow in his own misery.
‘You’re a fool, Jack Ashcroft. You know that.’
‘I do, Doris. I do.’ He glared at her. Did he really need her rubbing it in about what an absolute pig’s ear of things he’d made?
She threw her hands up in the air and harrumphed at him. ‘I despair of the younger generation. When you get to be as old as me, you know what’s important. And that someone as kind-hearted and genuine as Bets doesn’t come along very often.’
Jack gave her a sad smile, laden with regret. ‘You don’t think I know that? But she deserves this. I’m not going to make her choose between that or me. I had my chance. I blew it.’