Chapter 11
Eleven
‘You are having me on,’ Jenny said, three hours later, when she phoned to ask Lara about her day.
‘I swear to you. Every word I’ve told you is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,’ Lara assured her.
‘I don’t know what to say. Especially about Tom having one of your mum’s paintings.
That’s unbelievable. And as for you saving the man’s life.
All I can say is wow! I see why you think this is all meant to be.
That it’s all some grand plan that Fate has designed for you.
And that your dad did encourage you to place that bid on the cottage.
I don’t believe in Fate, as you know, but even I’m inclined to agree with you.
The one bit I don’t understand though, is the bit about the cat. ’
‘Nicodemus?’
‘Yes. Let me see if I’ve got this right.
A stray cat is in your kitchen and you don’t know how it got in.
It sleeps on your bed, smashes the mug I bought you, eats your chicken, and sleeps on your bed again, and you decide it’s adopted you, so you give it some weird name – which is from the Bible, by the way – and on top of that, despite having saved your neighbour’s life and sitting with him all afternoon in the hospital, you go out in the pouring rain to get this cat some special food, and then, when you get home to your gleamingly clean cottage, you find this cat has not only done a pee, but also a poo on your squeaky-clean kitchen floor, and left a trail of muddy paw prints to prove it was him.
And – let me finish. To add insult to injury, having fed this cat with this special cat food you’ve driven through storm and tempest to buy, you find this cat has since thrown up on your new, formerly white, duvet cover.
Oh, and also left a trail of muddy paw prints on it just in case you had any doubt as to whether it was this cat or not who had left you all these precious gifts. Have I missed anything?’
Lara sighed. ‘No. Although I wouldn’t put it like that.’
‘I know you wouldn’t, because you’re a lovely person. But I must ask. You’re still letting this cat stay, right?’
‘Of course I am. And I got the cat food from the shop at the petrol station when I stopped to fill up my car, so I didn’t need to go out of my way to get that.
It’s not his fault he did any of those things.
He couldn’t get out to do his business because it was blowing a gale and pouring with rain.
But he did try and that’s why his paws were muddy.
And he was probably scared by all the hoovering and cleaning and everything else going on today.
Plus, I wasn’t here. The cat food might be too rich for him, especially if he’s been eating God knows what for weeks, or months, or even years.
I’ll get him a different brand tomorrow.
Tom says there’s a pet shop in the village, so I’ll ask them for advice.
I’ll get a cat tray and cat litter, and a cat bed.
All these things are solvable, Jen. I should’ve got them tonight, but the petrol station didn’t have them and I didn’t want to go on a hunt for somewhere that did, so I’m not quite such a lovely person. ’
‘You are. They’re solvable by asking the pet shop to find another home for him. They might know where he came from. But why do I get the feeling that you won’t do that?’
‘I will ask if they know if anyone has lost a cat. Because if someone is out there looking for him then of course I want him to be in a home with people who love him. But if no one knows him, then yes, I’m going to keep him.’
‘And bring him back to Woking?’
Lara hesitated. She wasn’t sure it was wise to mention to her friend yet that she was wondering whether to stay in Bluewater Bay for longer than she had originally planned. Better to avoid the question.
‘Once he’s a member of my family, he will go where I go.’
‘I hope he knows he’s one of the luckiest cats on this planet.
And in other news. You did eventually receive a text from the man with no name, while you were on your not so epic search for cat food, but all it said was, ‘Tom’s fine.
’ Not, ‘Thank you so much for everything you did. How will we ever repay your kindness?’ And you texted back, ‘Thank you for letting me know. Please give my love to Tom.’ That’s right, isn’t it? ’
‘Yes. I’ll admit I was expecting a thank you, but Tom thanked me. I don’t need thanks, anyway. I only did what anyone else would have done.’
‘I don’t agree with that. But anyway. What an eventful time you’re having. Still no regrets?’
‘None. Except I wish I’d ordered a washing machine. I’ll have to ask Ula and Greg where I can take the duvet cover to have it washed. I did bring two other sets of covers with me, so it’s not a major issue.’
‘You amaze me, Lara.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re you, no matter what.’
‘Thank you. I think. I’m going to love and leave you now because we’ve been on the phone for almost an hour and it’s been a bit of a day and I’m exhausted. This sea air really tires me out.’
‘The sea air tires you out? Yes. That’s it. Blame the sea air.’ Jenny laughed. ‘Sleep tight. Pleasant dreams.’
‘Same to you.’
Lara rang off and made her way into the hall.
She had found a cardboard box earlier and she had scrunched up some toilet roll that she had torn into strips and piled up inside the box in the hope Nicodemus might use it as a cat tray, and then she had placed it in the hall between the front door and the kitchen.
She was delighted to see that it had worked a treat.
‘Good boy, Nicodemus,’ she said aloud, even though he was probably upstairs on her bed, fast asleep. She hoped he hadn’t thrown up on the clean duvet cover.
The doorbell made her jump.
Who could that be? Had Greg or Ula come back to see how Tom was?
She hadn’t heard a car. Who else would be ringing her doorbell at this hour?
She glanced at her watch. It was nine-thirty so not exactly late, but even so.
Granny Grey had always said that it was bad manners to call on anyone after nine in the evening.
Gingerly, she tiptoed to the door, and then called out, ‘Hello?’ And laughed at the foolishness of her actions.
‘Hello!’ The voice was male but it wasn’t Greg.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Jasper.’
‘Jasper? Jasper who?’
‘What? Look, if this is some kind of knock, knock, joke, I’m sorry, but it’s late, I’m tired, and I’m really not in the mood. Plus it’s raining out here.’
‘Excuse me! You’re the one ringing my doorbell, whoever you are.’
‘I’ve told you who I am. I’m Jasper.’
‘Jasper who, though?’
‘Jasper Bright. Tom Bright’s grandson. I’m only here because he insisted I come and … Oh. Hello. It’s good of you to open … O…o…h! Are you Lara?’
He sounded as astonished as Lara felt.
Her jaw had dropped the second she had opened the front door.
Standing on her doorstep was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen.
A tall, broad-shouldered hunk of a man who looked nothing at all like Tom and yet was so like him somehow.
But instead of Tom’s hawk nose, this man’s was like a Greek god’s.
In fact all of him was like a god, from what her bewitched eyes could take in as they scanned him from head to toe and back again.
Walking boots, jeans, waterproof jacket open at the neck to reveal a band of blue, probably of a T-shirt, mainly hidden beneath a cream cable-knit crew neck jumper.
Strong neck, square jaw, lips that screamed, ‘kiss me’ (or perhaps that was wishful thinking on Lara’s part) high cheekbones, dark brown wavy hair that looked as if he had been through hell and high water to get here, long dark lashes beneath dark straight brows, and eyes almost as blue as the waters in Bluewater Bay had been on the day she had arrived.
Eyes that a person could drown in and would be happy to do so.
Eyes that were also scanning her from head to toe and sending odd little tingles to parts of her body that hadn’t tingled for a very long time. Including in the vicinity of her heart.
Damn it!
Why had she scraped her auburn hair into a loose and rather untidy bun held in place by an old, multi-coloured scrunchie?
And why on earth had she opened the door when she knew she was wearing her PJs dotted with purple unicorns, and a dressing gown to match?
Not forgetting the matching slippers. They might have been made as promotional items for one of the games designed by Pliny Software about a girl who fights monsters and evil warriors while wearing the PJs, dressing gown and slippers, all of which have magical properties in the game, but to anyone who didn’t know that, they looked like something a five-year-old might wear.
And why, oh why, did Nicodemus have to choose that precise moment to come and stand in the cardboard box that sat almost directly behind her, and to fart rather loudly before doing the most malodorous poo imaginable?
The look on Jasper’s face said it all.
‘That wasn’t me,’ Lara said. ‘That was Nicodemus.’
Jasper looked bemused, but also beguiling … and … bedraggled.
‘It’s raining!’ Lara declared, grabbing his arm and yanking him inside.
He clearly wasn’t expecting that because he stumbled and his body thumped against hers with an audible, ‘thwack’, but he managed to right them both, thankfully before either of them stepped into the cardboard box of delight.
Jasper moved away from her and ran a hand through his hair, giving a small cough as he did so, and then, looking everywhere but at her he said, ‘Yes. It’s raining. Sorry to bother you as you’re clearly ready for bed but Gramps insisted, as I said.
‘It’s no bother. I wasn’t going to bed. I just … got drenched earlier so I had a hot bath and then made myself comfortable.’
‘Yes.’ He gave her a sideways glance but she saw his eyes travel the length of her before he looked away again.
Damn the purple unicorns. She’d have to tough it out.