Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
JACK
‘ B rian, my man, you’re an absolute hero!’ said Jack.
He heaved two laden carrier bags out of the boot of the taxi, while Brian hefted a box of groceries into his arms and followed Jack into the vast hallway of his seafront house.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ said Brian, placing the heavy box down on a broad wooden bench and straightening up with a grin. ‘Can’t have a Hollywood star wandering around Bendall’s… we’d have a riot on our hands!’
‘Not sure about that,’ Jack smirked, ‘but I really do appreciate your help to keep my visits quiet.’
‘I enjoy it,’ said Brian. ‘Mind you, it’s a bit easier now that Trish is doing the housekeeping for you and knows what’s going on.’
Jack grinned. Trish was Brian’s wife and one of the sweetest women he’d ever met. Though, apparently she wasn’t quite so sweet when she suspected her devoted husband was up to no good. It had taken a transatlantic video call before Trish would believe poor old Brian wasn’t telling her some seriously tall tales.
‘How is Trish?’ he said.
‘Perfect,’ said Brian with a broad smile. ‘She sends her love. Anyway, are you settling in okay? How’s the jetlag this time?’
‘You know how it is!’ laughed Jack, shaking his head. ‘I’m still half-living out of my suitcases, and my body clock is giving me the run-around… but I should be back on track in time for Christmas.’
‘That’s good,’ said Brian. ‘For the record, it’s about time you had a proper break. I’m happy to bring you anything you need while you’re here, if you want to keep a low profile… though the invitation still stands if you ever fancy a game of darts at the Dolphin and Anchor!’
‘Cheers,’ said Jack, ‘but I think I’ll be keeping myself to myself… at least for now.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Brian with a little shrug. ‘Any idea how long you’ll be staying?’
‘I’m… undecided,’ said Jack.
The truth was, he was knackered. He’d been on three back-to-back shoots, and the hectic press tour he’d just completed had nearly finished him off. Brian was right - he was desperate for a break.
‘Sorry,’ chuckled Brian. ‘You don’t have to tell me, I’m just being nosy.’
‘Honestly, I’d be happy to tell you if I knew,’ said Jack. ‘I’d love nothing more than to take at least a month off – get the house sorted out at properly and start really turning it into a home…’
‘Sounds like a good plan to me,’ said Brian with an approving nod.
‘Problem is, my agent keeps saying things like “we need to ride this wave!” ‘ sighed Jack. ‘The woman’s relentless! She doesn’t care that it’s nearly Christmas… or that I’ve taken myself offline for a break.’
‘At least she can’t get at you quite so easily while you’re here,’ said Brian. ‘She’s in LA, right?’
‘Yep,’ said Jack. ‘Unfortunately, the minute Aimee realised I wasn’t checking my emails, she started sending me blasted scripts in the post. There was a whole box waiting for me when I arrived… and three more came this morning!’
‘Well, it’s not all bad,’ said Brian. ‘At least it means we’ll be treated to another Jack Jones movie soon.’
‘Maybe,’ said Jack.
‘Maybe?’ gasped Brian. ‘Don’t tease me!’
Jack shrugged. There wasn’t much he could say. Until the right script came along, he had nothing else in the works. That was probably why Aimee was being quite so persistent. He was the current talk of the town… but all he really wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. He loved his work, but everything that went with it could be… overwhelming.
‘Here,’ said Jack, deciding to change the subject. He handed Brian the envelope of cash he had waiting for him. He’d tucked a hefty Christmas tip in there along with both Trish and Brian’s fees and the cost of his groceries.
‘Cheers!’ said Brian, tucking the envelope away without looking inside.
‘No – thank you!’ said Jack, eyeballing the goodies Brian had picked up for him. ‘This little lot should see me through until Boxing Day. I don’t know what I’d do without you!’
‘Well… if you need anything else, just give me a shout,’ said Brian. ‘Happy to help – and Trish said the same.’
‘Give her a Christmas hug for me when you get home?’ said Jack.
‘That’ll make her year,’ said Brian with a grin. ‘In fact, I’m going to head home now. I don’t like the look of those clouds – it was already starting to snow when I left town!’
‘Well, safe drive, my man,’ said Jack, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘You too,’ said Brian, ambling back towards the taxi and hopping in. Just as he was about to pull away, he rolled his window down and gave Jack a fatherly glare. ‘I meant to say – stay out of the sea!’
‘You know I can’t promise you that,’ said Jack.
Brian had been like a stuck record about Jack’s cold water swimming habit ever since he’d discovered his addiction to jumping the garden fence and legging it down the beach into the waves.
‘Well, at least promise me you’ll wear a bright hat if you’re idiot enough to go in?’ said Brian. ‘I don’t want to be reading about a celebrity cold-water-swimming tragedy in the newspaper next week!’
‘Don’t worry – there’s not much chance of that. I don’t think the reporter at the Crumbleton Times would see it as much of a tragedy,’ said Jack, rolling his eyes. ‘She doesn’t like me very much.’
‘Caroline Cook’s bark is worse than her bite,’ said Brian with an amused grin. ‘That woman is a big pussy cat when you get to know her.’
‘Pussy cats scratch,’ said Jack. ‘Plus, they hiss and spit.’
‘I don’t know why you insist on me sending you a copy of the newspaper every week,’ chuckled Brian.
‘Because it’s best to know what the enemy’s saying about you!’ said Jack said with a raised eyebrow.
In reality, he rather enjoyed reading the local news… even when he was on the other side of the world. It made him feel connected to home. Plus – he loved Caroline Cook’s writing – not that he’d ever admit it, of course. She was sharp and incredibly funny. Her review of his last film had reduced him to tears of laughter, and he’d cut it out and popped it into a frame for his dressing room. She might not be very keen on him, but he was most definitely a fan of hers!
‘Anyway,’ said Jack, shaking his head, ‘since I don’t want to give Caroline Cook the satisfaction of reporting on my premature demise – I promise to wear a bright hat. I’ve got a swim float too.’
‘Good,’ said Brian. ‘Right, I’d best be off before those clouds decide to take themselves a bit more seriously.’
Even as Jack raised his hand to wave Brian off, a couple of white flakes drifted lazily onto the driveway. Jack smiled at the sight of them. He loved snow, and Brian should be nice and safe at home before this little flurry they were in for had the chance to settle – which was a relief.
The man was a saint. There weren’t many people Jack trusted to keep his whereabouts quiet, but frankly, he’d trust Brian with his life. Trish too, come to that. Jack liked the fact that the pair of them treated him as a regular person – just Jack who was brought up less than twenty miles along the coast. Just Jack – who might fancy a festive game of darts over a pint. Just Jack – not some trumped-up Hollywood star in hiding.
With a huge sigh, Jack pushed the front door closed and started to carry his groceries through to the kitchen. It was probably his favourite room in the whole house – mainly because it had the best view of the sea.
Jack had bought his dream house in Crumbleton Sands a couple of years ago, but so far, he’d not really been able to spend as much time there as he’d hoped.
‘At least you’re here for Christmas!’ he said, starting to stash goodies away in random cupboards before turning to the fridge. This little lot should mean he could survive right the way through until Boxing Day without having to leave the house if he didn’t want to.
As soon as the fridge was groaning with enough cold meat, olives, cheese and assorted nibbles to feed a small country, Jack made his way over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked straight out across the golden dunes that separated his house from the sea.
The low-hanging clouds had turned the waves into a deep, moody blue beyond the lacy curtain of the snowflakes as they drifted around aimlessly. It was just coming up to high tide, so there was only a narrow fringe of sandy beach visible above the lapping waves.
The sight made him long for a swim.
Why not?
‘Because it’s snowing – idiot!’ he answered himself. Then he shrugged. Why should he let that stop him?!
A swim might help nudge his jetlag back a bit… and maybe calm his racing thoughts too. As much as he was here to relax and unwind, he was having a hard time switching off. The cold water would help. It always did.
He had his wetsuit laid out upstairs… he’d treat himself to a quick dip, and then settle in and make a dent in some of the goodies Brian had just delivered.
Pausing for just a few more seconds, Jack watched the snowflakes dip and swirl as they drifted down to meet the sea. The sight made his heart squeeze with pure joy. This was exactly why he’d fallen in love with this house in the first place. He had unrestricted views across the sea at the back of the house, and he didn’t even need to leave his own garden to get down onto the beach… he could just hop the fence and then make a dash straight across the dunes and into the sea.
‘Sorry Brian, I’m going in!’ said Jack, spinning on his heel and dashing upstairs to get changed.
Darting into his vast bedroom, Jack made a beeline for his wetsuit which he’d laid out on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. He had to pick through the piles of scripts lying all over the floor to get to it. Poor Trish – she’d have a fit if she could see what a mess he’d made of the pristine house in the few days he’d been back.
Jack had ordered a bookshelf from Crumbleton Antiques so that he could get himself a bit more organised, and it had arrived about an hour ago. He really needed to sort this lot out – before he managed to break an ankle – or worse! But… the scripts could stay put for a little while longer, couldn’t they?!
‘First things first!’
Jack started to strip off his clothes. Stepping out of his jeans he couldn’t help but laugh at his deep Californian tan. It wasn’t going to do him much good here. As much as he looked like the picture of health in a pair of board shorts while splashing around in a pool or the Pacific Ocean, it would be thoroughly covered up when he dived into the waves here.
A nice, warm wetsuit, along with a pair of boots and neoprene gloves to stop his fingers turning blue the minute he got into the water were most definitely the order of the day when it came to December swims in Crumbleton Sands!
As he started the arduous task of squeezing himself into his tadpole suite, Jack eyeballed the hat he’d laid out next to it. Dark blue with a bobble. It was certainly warm, but he’d promised Brian he’d go bright.
‘Erm… let me see,’ he muttered, glancing around his tip of a bedroom while he tugged the wetsuit further up his legs. His eyes came to rest on the latest pile of scripts that had arrived in the post that morning. He hadn’t even looked through them yet – the sight of them had just made him want to curl up in a ball and sleep until New Year.
Jack had left them in a heap on the carpet, along with the packaging and the Christmas card and joke gift Aimee had included.
‘Perfect!’ said Jack, eyeballing the bright red and white furry Santa hat she’d sent him – along with strict instructions not to get caught wearing it in public.
Jack shrugged. It wasn’t very likely anyone would spot him enjoying a Christmas dip in Crumbleton Sands! If they did… well… it was on her for sending it to him in the first place!
Grabbing the hat from the pile, he yanked it onto his head with a grin. It was time for this Santa to swim!
Heading downstairs, Jack left the front door on the latch behind him. The last thing he wanted to do was lock himself out. He could only imagine what a locksmith would say – faced with a call-out from a wetsuit-wearing film star in a Santa hat!
Striding through the swirling snowflakes, Jack made his way around the back of the house and through the garden. Then hopped over the low bit of fence and jogged up and over the dunes that separated his property from the sea.
The sound of the crashing waves sent a buzz of energy coursing through his body, and Jack let out an excited howl as he ran towards the water… low at first but then louder and louder as he neared the sea.
Jack loved every trip to the beach. It didn’t matter that he was down there two or three times some days, every single visit was like a reset for his soul. Today felt even more magical than usual as soft flakes drifted around him and the waiting waves beckoned him forwards. There wasn’t another soul in sight - the sands were completely deserted.
Jack had never been one of those slow waders – and he set off at a gallop, darting towards the cold water – the white pompom of his Santa hat dancing merrily as he went.
‘Wheeeeeee!’ Jack’s voice came out a high-pitched cry of delight as the first hit of ice-cold salt water made its way through the fabric of his swim shoes. Two seconds later, he dove into the waves, head-first.
Spluttering and as he surfaced, Jack realised that had been a rookie move… his hat had washed clean off his head.
Giggling to himself, he swam after it as it drifted just out of reach and pulled the drenched material onto his head. Splashing around like a lunatic, Jack lifted his face to the sky and howled in pure delight as snowflakes kissed his cheeks.
There was no way he’d be able to do this in California – for one thing, he’d not be able to make it down the beach without having to stop for a billion selfies before he even reached the water. For another, there was always paparazzi… and he was pretty sure that Aimee wouldn’t be too pleased about a bunch of photos of him behaving like a toddler.
‘Woohooo!’ he cheered, just for good measure, before striking out across the bay as the snow swirled overhead.