Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sam Boyd clicked his key fob, the four-wheel drive’s soft chirp echoing around MacLeod’s Cove’s village centre.
Opposite, outside the Old Colonial Hotel, the proprietor was cleaning the windows, while outside the café which was Sam’s destination, a smattering of locals had already gathered around the tables, their laughter spilling into the street.
Sam raised his hand in an easy wave to the father of an old friend as he passed by.
He pushed open the door to the Perching Parrot and the bell above jangled, barely heard over the noise of the coffee machine and the chatter of voices.
His mouth watered at the smell of bacon and eggs.
Should he? Or should he grab a muffin and sandwiches to take to the caravan?
It was a world away from the kind of decision that used to preoccupy him when he’d run his own business in Sydney. And that was exactly how he liked it.
Lucy’s café was always his first port of call when he arrived in MacLeod’s Cove to work on his house. He couldn’t cook to save his life — his kitchen skills peaked at heating beans — and Lucy’s food always set him up for the day.
Nodding at a couple he knew from somewhere in his past, he made his way to the counter. But as he approached the glass display cabinet brimming with the sort of pies fit for a working-man’s breakfast — maybe it was a pie-kind of day? — something made him pause mid-stride.
Turning, he saw a vision that stopped him cold. Moving away from the display of savoury muffins was Jen. Jen. He repeated her name to make himself believe he wasn’t seeing things.
Sam’s heart hammered against his ribcage as if trying to escape.
She was the last person he expected to find here in MacLeod’s Cove, the place she’d left so many years ago.
She should be 18,000 kilometres away. She should be living a life away from here, away from him…
just away. His mouth dried, and he swallowed. What the hell was she doing here?
She had her back to him as she leaned in to talk to Lucy, who immediately looked up and smiled at him. He got the sense they’d been talking about him.
‘Sam!’ Lucy called, her voice slightly forced.
Sam barely heard Lucy; he couldn’t shift his gaze from Jen. She was chewing on a croissant and glanced up at him.
‘Hello, Jen,’ he said.
She mumbled something before quickly moving away from the counter and taking a seat at a table, studying her croissant as if her life depended on it.
He looked away. ‘Lucy! How’s things?’
‘Excellent,’ said Lucy. ‘Couldn’t be better,’ she added. She nodded towards where he knew Jen was sitting. ‘My big sister’s come home.’
‘Oh.’ The sound came out more strangled than he’d intended. ‘That’s…’ He trailed off because he had no idea what that was. Gut-stabbing, confusing, heart-wrenching? He shook his head. He couldn’t afford for it to be the latter. ‘That’s nice.’ His hand fumbled for the wallet in his back pocket.
‘Why don’t you go say “hi”,’ Lucy said. ‘I’ll bring your order over to the table.’
A glance over his shoulder revealed Jen had now transferred her intense focus to her coffee. He also noticed that she’d chosen to sit at the only one-seater table even though there were plenty of others free. He glanced at Lucy and shrugged.
‘And I’ll bring a chair over, too.’ Lucy leaned in so only he could hear, her smile softening. ‘Go on, she’d love to chat. I know she would.’
He wasn’t so sure. ‘Um, I don’t know. She didn’t say much to me just then.’
Lucy waved an airy hand. ‘She was eating. You probably didn’t hear her say it was good to see you.’
‘She said that?’
Lucy smiled brightly in response. ‘And she asked me whether you still lived around here.’
‘She did?’ He turned to Jen, his eyes drinking her in. Waves of shoulder-length chestnut hair fell forward as she stared at her plate. It caught the light like silk. He remembered it felt like silk, too. Diamond earrings glinted from between its strands, sending shifting rainbows across the room.
‘Go on over. I’ll be with you in a minute,’ said Lucy.
Nodding his thanks, he circled the table to stand before Jen, taking in each new glimpse of her—the curve of her cheek, the straight line of her nose and the fullness of her lips.
His gaze lingered there, noticing how she nibbled her lower lip as if she were anxious about something. But of course she was. Him.
And then she looked up at him, and all thoughts that he knew this woman before him fled.
While her face was still heart-shaped and delicate, and her eyes a vivid blue, their expression had changed.
They revealed a person he didn’t recognise.
Then she blushed and smiled, and that different person vanished.
‘Sam.’
‘Jen.’ His voice sounded rough, as if emotion clouded it. He cleared his throat.
She rose awkwardly in the narrow space, her wooden chair toppling to the polished concrete floor with a clunk. ‘Oh!’
‘I’ll get it.’ He righted the chair.
‘Thanks.’ She remained standing. She pushed another strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. ‘Still as clumsy as ever, you see.’
‘And Sam’s as chatty as ever,’ said Lucy with a grin, bringing a spare chair to the table. ‘There you go. You two can find out what else has changed between you now.’
Jen shot Lucy a black look, and Sam suddenly felt awkward.
‘Hey, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to force myself on you. I’ll take another table. You probably want…’ A glance at the table showed no phone out, no paper open. He shrugged. ‘To be left alone with your thoughts.’
Jen shook her head decisively. ‘No thanks.’ She said it too quickly, and he wondered why she didn’t like her thoughts. Then he couldn’t figure out what she was saying ‘no thanks’ to. Him or being alone?
‘So, would you like me to leave?’
The shake of her head was followed by a smile, which unlocked places inside him which had been frozen for too long. He smiled back.
Lucy came and placed his food on the table between them, glancing from one to the other. ‘Well, this looks good,’ she said ambiguously. Jen shot her sister another irritated look and sat down.
‘Yes, it does, thank you,’ he said before sitting down opposite her. ‘Jen, I… I didn’t know you were back.’
‘We only arrived last night.’
His smile faded. Of course, she’d come with that husband he’d heard about. Rich, powerful, handsome. Everything his Jen deserved. The thought of her as ‘his’ Jen made him wince.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said, before he could check himself.
‘And you,’ she said. Her clipped tone told him she was being polite. ‘I… didn’t realise you still lived around here.’
‘I don’t.’ He didn’t elaborate. They sat in silence, except for the hum of conversation from other customers and the mellow jazz-funk music on the sound system. When Lucy arrived with the coffees, they were both relieved.
‘Here you go,’ she said, looking from one to the other of them before wiping away a few drops of coffee from the table.
‘Jen’s just arrived home, Sam. Hopefully she’ll stay this time.
Which is good news for MacLeod’s Cove. Another author to add to our community.
Can never have enough creatives, I reckon, don’t you?
’ She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she chatted on, obviously having taken it on herself to fill the silence which hung between them.
‘Mum reckons MacLeod’s Cove should host a literary festival.
What do you think?’ Again, Lucy didn’t wait for an answer.
‘But then, I’m not a literary sort. I prefer a book I can get lost in, one that I don’t have to look the words up for.
But there you go. I guess we’re all different, and there’s something out there for everyone.
A bit like food really. Some like the fancy coffees, and others like a good old-fashioned filter coffee — the kind that you can stand a spoon up in.
Haha.’ She wiped the table again, although it was clean. ‘Live and let live, that’s my motto.’
While Lucy prattled on, Jen’s eyes darted from her coffee cup to Sam, before looking back down at her plate again.
She looked even more nervous than he was.
Another thing that had changed. She’d always been the most confident person in the room.
Happy to say what she felt, happy to tell others when they’d fallen short of her ideals.
He’d always envied her self-assurance. But the woman sitting in front of him looked frightened of her own shadow.
He stirred his coffee too vigorously, forgetting he hadn’t added any sugar yet. He glanced up at her again, thankful for the stream of consciousness that Lucy was providing. What the hell had happened to Jen? His blood boiled at the thought that that tosser of a husband had done this to her.
‘Sam?’ said Lucy.
‘What?’ he said, his tone fuelled by his anger at the thought of why Jen had lost that buoyant edge to her personality he’d always loved so much.
‘I was talking about the dance coming up,’ Lucy said, frowning. ‘What’s got into you?’
‘Nothing.’ He sighed, feeling Jen’s eyes settle on him for the first time since he’d sat down. ‘What was it you were saying?’
‘That the band playing at the dance was on in Wellington last month, and they’re really good. You should go.’
He shrugged. And hell should freeze over. He hadn’t been to a dance at St Andrews Community Hall since he was eighteen.
Lucy sighed, obviously giving up on him, and turned to Jen. ‘How did Liam sleep?’
Sam ground his teeth. So that was the bastard’s name.
‘Much better than I imagined.’ Jen turned to Sam. ‘It was a long trip. We came directly from London.’
‘Oh,’ he said, his mind still focused on Liam. No doubt he had the build of a rugby forward, and the accent and wallet of an Etonian. ‘Long journey,’ he muttered before taking a bite of his toasted sandwich.
‘Yep.’ But there was something more in the brief, sad smile she shot him before she took the last sip of her coffee and placed the cup back on the saucer. She scooped up the few crumbs remaining from her croissant and popped them in her mouth.
He suddenly realised that she now had no reason to stick around. In a panic, he racked his brains for something to say. ‘So, Lucy says you’re here to stay.’
‘Yes, I needed to come home.’
‘And, Liam,’ he cleared his throat, ‘he doesn’t mind making the move?’
’No, he’s young, so…’ She faded out.
He frowned. Exactly how much younger than Jen was this husband of hers? Was he some sort of toyboy? ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Well, I guess Wellington will have whatever he’s looking for.’
She frowned slightly as if confused. ‘Like?’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever he did in London.’
‘Oh, Liam won’t miss London. He’ll be happy to stay in MacLeod’s Cove.’ Her face relaxed a little. ‘He’s getting on so well with Mum.’
‘That’s good,’ he said coolly.
‘It is. It’s a huge relief.’ Her mouth turned up in a small smile. ‘He’s with her now.’
Sam sighed and glanced away.
‘Knowing her,’ continued Jen. ’She’ll have Liam running around the beach with no clothes on, being at one with nature, getting some vitamin D inside him, some colour on his skin.’ She paused as if wondering why he didn’t respond. ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Do you have any children?’
He snapped his head around to face her. ‘Children?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her lips tweaking briefly into a small smile. ‘You know those little people who drive you mad, but you wouldn’t be without.’
‘Ah yes, those.’ Heat crept up his neck. Had she realised his mistake? He frowned. So, if Liam was her son and it was only the two of them who were here, then where was her husband? ‘So, there’s only the two of you here?’
‘Yep. Just Liam and me.’
‘And how old is Liam?’
‘Five. He’s five.’ Her lips twitched again. ‘Did you think—’
‘I’d best get on.’ He knocked back his coffee and stood up, looking around to say goodbye to Lucy to cover his embarrassment. By the time he’d found her and turned back, Jen had picked up her bags and was walking to the door.
‘Jen,’ he said. She paused. He had one last chance to say something — anything — which was normal, the kind of thing people who’d loved each other once would say after seeing each other for the first time in years.
‘It’s good to see you again.’ She smiled and, encouraged, he continued. ‘I’m glad you’ve come home.’
‘Me too,’ she answered, walking away.
As he watched her leave, he wondered whether she was answering his first comment or his second.
Common sense said his second, but his heart hoped it was his first. Because, until he’d seen her again, he hadn’t known exactly how good it would be to see her.
And now he knew, he felt something shift inside of him.
He didn’t know if it was the cold, leaden weight of failed relationships or loneliness, and he didn’t care.
It was enough to know how completely and utterly good it was to see her again.
He was suddenly aware of two things. Lucy was standing beside him, and he had a big grin on his face.
This time, Lucy wasn’t saying anything. She simply followed his gaze outside the café to the retreating figure of Jen as she placed some paper bags and a box of cereal in the front basket of her bicycle and pushed off, disappearing from view.
‘She’s back, then,’ he said, unable to think of anything else, and not caring that the smile refused to fade.
Lucy nodded. ‘Yep, she’s back.’