Chapter 12
Jack closed the door softly and leant against it, wondering what he had just agreed to. Only last week he had refused Chantelle’s suggestion they move in together, and now he had agreed to live with a woman he barely knew and whom he suspected didn’t think very highly of him.
But – and this had been the deciding factor – he didn’t have to pay any rent. He would be able to save most of what he earned, and he wasn’t going to be living with Molly forever – just until he was in a more secure financial position. It would only be for a few months, six hopefully, twelve at the most, and as soon as the renovations were completed and the garden had been sorted out, there wouldn’t be an awful lot to be done. He would be able to kick back and take it easy.
The thought did occur to him that when it got to that stage Molly might well want to renegotiate his terms and conditions, but he would face that issue if, or when, it arrived. For now, it was a perfect solution.
Or it would be if he wasn’t seriously attracted to his new landlord.
Giving himself a mental shake, he decided to go for a run. Running usually cleared his head, allowing him to see more clearly. Anyway, he could do with the exercise, having done very little for the past week, too busy cleaning and decorating.
At least it was done now, and within a few days his house would be on the market.
He still wasn’t keen on strangers poking around his house, but it had to be done, and not having to be there to witness it was a bonus. It was almost worth taking Molly up on her offer for that alone.
Feeling angsty, he laced up his trainers and jogged on the spot for a few minutes, then followed it up with some stretches. Satisfied that nothing hurt and that he had warmed up sufficiently, he set off, determined to only think about putting one foot in front of the other for the next hour.
***
‘I think I’ve done something stupid,’ Molly said. As soon as she’d arrived home, she had immediately phoned Astrid in a panic.
‘Oh dear – you’ve not long left the office. What could you possibly have done in such a short amount of time?’ Astrid’s voice was tinny and distant, and Molly guessed her friend was probably driving home.
She cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she petted Jet, who was mighty pleased to see her. ‘I’ve taken in a lodger.’
‘Another stray?’
‘I suppose he could be called that.’
‘Let’s hope there aren’t any more dogs living wild in your park, otherwise I can see you taking them all in.’
‘He’s not a dog. He’s a man.’
‘A real man? A human man?’
‘Uh huh,’ Molly murmured.
‘Bloody hell! Who? When? I mean, you didn’t mention anything about this earlier.’
‘That’s because it’s only just happened.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You know the new instruction I went to on my way home?’
‘Mr Betters? Oakland Road?’
‘That’s the one – but his name is Feathers, not Betters. I’ve offered him to move into my spare room. Rent-free.’
‘You’ve done what?!’
Molly held the phone away from her ear. Astrid’s shriek was almost so high that only dogs could hear it.
‘In exchange for his help in getting the cottage and the garden sorted,’ she added. ‘So, it’s payment in kind.’
‘Are you mad? You don’t know anything about him.’
‘I know where he works.’
‘Where he claims to work,’ Astrid growled. ‘He could be lying. In fact, he probably is. He sounds like a right con man to me.’
‘He definitely works where he says he does. I know. I met him there last week.’
‘Where?’
‘The council offices.’
There was silence for a moment, then Astrid said, ‘I’m pulling over. Hang on.’
Molly waited, and as she did so she scrolled on her phone, but she couldn’t find him on social media at all, although she did find him on the council’s website.
Astrid came back on the line. ‘He works for the council, you say? And you met him last week?’ There was a pause, then she cried, ‘Now I get it! You sly thing! Fancy him being the same guy.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Molly protested. ‘It’s a business arrangement.’
‘Yeah, right…’ Astrid’s disbelief was very much in evidence.
‘I’ve got a plan,’ Molly said. ‘Remember I told you I tried to persuade him to do something about the park, but he refused?’
‘You called him a jobsworth.’
‘That’s right, I did. Well, my plan is that he lives in the cottage rent-free in exchange for helping me renovate it, but what I didn’t tell him is I also expect him to help me sort out the flower beds in the park. And that’s only for starters. He’ll help me get the park ship-shape, one way or another,’ she warned.
‘Do you think he’ll go for it?’
Molly wasn’t sure. ‘Probably not, but I can try.’
‘Keep me posted,’ Astrid said. ‘Oh, and I want a photo. I’ve got to see what this guy looks like!’
‘You’ll have to wait,’ Molly said. ‘He’s moving in on Friday. Please tell me this isn’t a stupid idea.’
‘It’s not a stupid idea. Much.’ Astrid chortled. ‘Look him up on the internet and send me the link.’
Molly winced. ‘I don’t think he’s on social media – I’ve looked. There’s a photo of him on the council website, but it’s not a very good one. I’ll send it to you now.’ Molly studied it for a second, before sending it to Astrid.
There was a moment of silence, then her friend said, ‘Phwoar, he’s not bad, is he? He can sort out my flower beds any day!’
‘Behave yourself. He’s not that good-looking.’
‘Are you kidding? He’s lush. I like my men a bit nerdy. You’ve got to be able to have a conversation with them afterwards – if you know what I mean.’ Astrid’s laugh was positively bawdy.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Molly sniffed and stuck her nose in the air.
‘I don’t believe you do,’ her friend agreed. ‘It’s been so long since you’ve slept with anyone, you’ve forgotten what goes where.’
‘I wish I hadn’t phoned you,’ Molly grumbled.
‘I’m not. This is priceless!’
‘Glad I amuse you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You definitely will! I want to know everything.’
Molly blew out her cheeks. She valued Astrid’s opinion, but right now she didn’t think she had been much help – Molly still wasn’t certain whether having a lodger was a good idea.
With a sigh, she changed out of her work clothes and took Jet out for his evening constitutional. Fresh air would do her good and Jet could certainly do with burning off some energy.
‘Do you think I’ve been silly?’ she asked him as the pair of them wandered across the field.
Jet ignored her. He was far too busy darting around and sniffing, his tail wagging uncontrollably.
Molly had brought a pair of secateurs with her, with the intention of snipping away at some of the undergrowth in the woodland. She knew there was a path right through it from top to bottom, and she had a vague idea of where it started, and had every intention of clearing it over the course of the next few months. She would only do a little bit at a time, because she had a feeling it would take a while, and the house and her own garden were more important, but considering she had to take Jet for a walk every day, she thought she might as well do something useful. Litter picking in the morning when it was quiet and after the yobs had emptied their pockets all over the park the evening before; and path-clearing through the woods in the evening, to avoid those same teenagers who hung around the bandstand.
She had also brought a pair of heavy-duty gardening gloves with her because those brambles looked seriously fierce. She remembered watching a programme once, (it might have been a David Attenborough one) where the growth of individual stems of brambles was speeded up, and she shuddered. It had been like watching an alien, blindly pushing other plants out of the way with deadly determination.
As she snipped, picking up each disconnected strand and flinging it aside, she thought back to her conversation with Jack earlier. No one had been more surprised than she to discover he was the man who wanted to put his house on the market. To be fair, he had seemed quite surprised to see her too, but she felt they’d both been very grown-up about it, and very professional, and after the initial awkwardness, she had managed to convince herself it was just another job.
It had been fascinating to see the inside of his house though.
Ow! A thorn managed to pierce her skin through her gardening gloves, and she stamped on the nasty stem irritably, before taking her glove off and sucking at the offending finger. That would teach her to daydream and not concentrate on what she was doing.
After about half an hour, she decided she had done enough for one day: she had cleared a path approximately a metre deep, and about a metre wide. She’d give it another go tomorrow night, if she had the time.
Even though she’d been physically busy, her mind hadn’t been, and she had once again found herself thinking of Jack and his house. He had hinted that he hadn’t had any choice in selling it, and he was only going to achieve half the equity, which made her think he was in the middle of a failed relationship.
Of course, there might be other reasons for him having to sell the house. He might have overextended himself financially and run up a huge debt, or maybe he was a gambler? If so, he probably wasn’t a very good one. Were there any good ones? Molly had no idea.
She recognised she was probably being silly, and she might never discover the reason. Maybe after he’d moved in, he would tell her. She wouldn’t ask though, because it wasn’t any of her business.
After circumnavigating the field and throwing the ball for Jet to chase, Molly took him home. The walk had done her good and she was feeling refreshed, and Jet was more than likely ready for his tea. He was panting hard, his bright pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he plodded next to her. The bounce had gone, and she was pleased to see she’d worn him out for five minutes.
She fed the dog first, then set about making her own supper, and once it had been eaten and she felt suitably refuelled, she had a good look at the newly plastered walls and ceiling in the living room. The plasterer had done a good job. He had taken the old skirting boards off as promised, explaining he wouldn’t put them back on until the walls had dried out. Molly planned on removing the old paint and sanding them down, but that would be a job for later this evening, when it was too dark to work outside.
Calling the dog to her, she retrieved her shovel and the spirit level and went to check on the post she had put in yesterday. She gave it a tentative tap and when it didn’t move, she gave it a shake. It seemed firm enough, and she was happy that the quick-drying cement had done what it promised. Hesitantly she checked the post with the spirit level and was relieved to see it was straight. She’d had visions of it keeling over in the middle of the night; or worse, being pushed over deliberately.
Using the tape measure, she measured the distance between this post and where she planned to put the next, and began to dig.
It didn’t take long before she was puffing and panting, and sweat trickled down her back. Jet lay on the grass, watching her, his intelligent gaze never leaving her face, and she returned to her earlier conversation.
‘Do you think I’ve been stupid?’ she asked him again, but all he did was stare adoringly back at her. ‘What if you don’t like him? I haven’t thought this through, have I? I was blinded by having another pair of hands to help, and male ones at that. I know I said I wanted to do this myself, but really, there are limits. I think it’s more important I get everything finished quickly, than be precious about it.’
Jet continued to stare at her, his tail wagging gently.
‘I think I’d better introduce you to him,’ she continued. ‘If you don’t like him, I’ll have to tell him the deal is off. You come first,’ she said, and Jet’s tail wagged faster as though he understood what she was saying.
She had Jack’s details with her in her briefcase, so she would give him a ring and invite him around. It was also a good idea for him to make sure he was happy with his room, and not solely to check that Jet didn’t see him as a threat or an intruder. She wouldn’t call him now though; she would wait until she had put this new post in. By then it would probably be getting dark anyway, so she would have to go inside.
Whilst she had been measuring, digging and cement mixing, she had been aware of people walking up and down the path, and if she hadn’t noticed them herself, Jet had. Each time he would let out a little whine, and she would look up, expecting to see Bill at some point.
She didn’t see the old man, but she did see a number of other dog walkers, two women who were out jogging, an old lady with a carrier bag who scowled at her, several groups of youngsters, and a man with a young boy on a bike.
To her shock, she also saw Jack.
Molly didn’t know why she was so surprised: he probably ran through the park on a regular basis.
They locked eyes, and he stuttered to a stop.
Molly tried to keep her eyes above his neck, but her gaze dropped to his broad chest and slim hips. He was wearing shorts, and she admired his legs. Then she realised what she was doing and hastily dragged her eyes back to his face, only to catch him checking her out too.
Molly could feel herself blushing, and she wondered whether the faint hint of colour on his face was because of the exercise, or because he knew she had caught him staring.
‘Hi, again,’ he said, and she saw him swallow and wondered whether he was as nervous as she.
‘Hi. I’ve been thinking,’ she began.
His expression became wary. ‘What about?’
‘You being my lodger,’ she said. ‘I might have been a bit hasty.’
Disappointment replaced the wariness. ‘I see,’ he said woodenly.
‘I thought perhaps you’d better have a look inside the cottage before you made your decision,’ she explained. ‘And you’d also better meet Jet.’
‘Jet?’ Now he was looking puzzled.
‘My dog.’ When she pointed to the animal, Jack did a double take.
‘Sorry, I didn’t notice him.’ The colour on his face grew more pronounced. ‘Is he friendly?’
‘He is with me,’ Molly said, ‘and with my parents. And with Bill, an old guy who walks his little terrier through the park. Jet was a stray and Bill had been feeding him. I didn’t like the thought of the poor thing living on his own in the park in all weathers, so he moved in with me.’
Jack chuckled. ‘Sounds a bit like me, doesn’t it? Very soon I could be a stray, although I do draw the line at living in the park.’
‘You do realise that’s precisely what you will be doing when you move into my cottage?’ Molly pointed out.
‘That’s different,’ Jack said.
It was different in that he would have a roof over his head, but that was about it, Molly thought. Jack most definitely would be living in the park, with everything that entailed, and her thoughts flitted to the past three evenings. Friday and Saturday had been particularly noisy, and she wished she’d had a telly so she could have turned the volume up full, to drown out the noise the kids were making. On the following mornings, there had been treble the amount of litter than there had been previously. She’d assumed things might have quietened down on Sunday night, what with there being school the following day, but it had been just as bad.
Jack and the dog were eyeing one another. Jet looked impassive; Jack looked apprehensive.
‘Come closer,’ Molly urged.
Hesitantly Jack stepped forward a couple of paces.
The dog didn’t move.
Molly was relieved when Jet didn’t growl, and she guessed it was because he didn’t feel the need to warn her.
‘I haven’t had much to do with dogs,’ Jack said out of the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the dog.
‘Don’t worry, neither have I. I’m learning as I go along.’
‘That’s not very reassuring. Are you certain he doesn’t bite?’
‘Not to my knowledge. Put it this way, he hasn’t bitten me.’
‘He wouldn’t dare,’ Molly thought she heard Jack mutter, and she suppressed a smile. Suddenly she found herself hoping very much indeed that Jack and Jet got on.
Jack crouched down and held out his hand. ‘Come here, boy,’ he said, and Molly smiled again. For someone who professed to know nothing about dogs, he was acting just the way she hoped he would: getting down to the dog’s level, speaking softly and holding out his hand for the animal to sniff.
Jet got to his feet and padded closer to Jack. His tail was twitching, but Molly wouldn’t call it a full wag. When he was about a metre away, Jet stopped, stretched out his neck and sniffed Jack’s hand.
Jack froze. Then to Molly’s delight the dog’s tongue shot out and he licked Jack’s fingers. Jack snatched his hand back with an expression of disgust on his face.
‘Ew! He slobbered all over me.’
‘Don’t be a baby. All he did was lick your hand. I think you’ve got the seal of approval. He likes you.’
Jet’s tail was now wagging, and he leant against Jack’s legs.
‘Is he supposed to do that?’ Jack asked.
Molly said, ‘I’m not sure what dogs are supposed to do. Perhaps it means he likes you or trusts you, or maybe he’s feeling tired and wants to lean on you. Would you like to come in? I think you ought to see where you’ll be living. That is, if you still want to move in.’
‘I can’t.’
Molly felt acutely disappointed. Now that her fears that Jet wouldn’t like him were unfounded, she hoped Jack wasn’t going to pull out. ‘Oh, OK.’
‘You don’t understand. I can’t move. If I do, he’ll fall over.’
Molly giggled. ‘No, he won’t. Jet, come here, there’s a good boy.’ Jet trotted over to her and she put a hand on his head. ‘Is that better?’ she asked Jack.
‘Much.’
Relieved, Molly showed him inside. ‘It still needs an awful lot of work, which is why I want some help,’ she explained.
She watched Jack’s expression as he took in the bare walls of the hall and the stairs, and then saw his face brighten when he walked into the sitting room.
‘It was plastered today,’ she said. ‘It’s going to take about a week to do the whole house.’
‘Crumbs, this makes a difference,’ Jack said. ‘I love the fireplace.’
‘It is nice, isn’t it? It needs re-blacking, and the chimney definitely needs to be swept, and I’m pretty sure I can do something with these floor tiles. I’m not sure what: I’ll have to look it up.’
‘Are you planning on doing all this yourself?’
Molly bit back a smile. ‘Not anymore,’ she said. ‘I was hoping you would do some of it.’
‘Me? I don’t know the first thing about sweeping chimneys.’
‘I’ll get a professional in to do that,’ Molly assured him. ‘Although, if I could do it myself, I would, but I don’t want to get it wrong and risk a chimney fire.’
‘Is there such a thing?’
‘Most definitely. If you don’t sweep a chimney properly there’s a risk that any soot or deposits in the chimney could catch fire, and I wouldn’t want that to happen.’ Molly debated whether to tell him about her episode with the range in the kitchen, but she decided not to. It was better he thought her competent and capable, rather than worry she was about to burn the place down. ‘But I did think you could give me a hand with the tiles,’ she added.
‘If you tell me what to do, I’m sure I’ll be able to do it,’ Jack said, but he didn’t look convinced.
Molly was confident that if she could do it, then so could he. Whatever it was that needed doing, because she wasn’t kidding when she said she’d have to look up how to go about making the tiles look like new.
She took a deep breath: now for the worst bit. ‘Here’s the kitchen,’ she said.
‘Riiight…’ Jack dragged the word out.
‘I know what you’re thinking – those cabinets aren’t the best. Goodness knows how old they are, but I’d take an educated guess as to them being relics from the 1950s or 60s.’
‘You’re not keeping them, are you?’
‘Gracious, no. They’re far too rickety. I think they’re mostly rotted, but they’ll do for the time being until I can afford new ones.’
‘You’re not going for a fitted kitchen?’
Molly shook her head. ‘I don’t think it would be in keeping. As much as I would like a fitted kitchen with shiny stainless steel and marble worktops, I don’t think it would be right.’
To her surprise, Jack agreed. ‘You could always see if you can find some second-hand ones to replace these, or I think you can buy free-standing units from IKEA.’
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ Molly said, glad they were on the same wavelength. Not that it made any difference – this was her house and she would furnish and decorate it as she pleased, but it was nice to get a second opinion which agreed with her own.
‘I’ll show you your bedroom,’ she said. ‘There are only two, with the bathroom in the middle, so there’s no ensuite I’m afraid.’
‘That’s fine. I’m sure we can dodge around each other.’
Molly had a vision of meeting on the landing in the middle of the night, and she hastily pushed it away.
‘Both bedrooms are the same size,’ she explained, as she climbed the stairs. She opened the door to the room that would be his, and stepped back to let him go inside. ‘This will be replastered too,’ she said, ‘and there will be new coving and a new ceiling rose, and I’m replacing the dado rails and—’
‘It’s perfect!’ he cried.
‘It is?’ Molly happened to think it was, but she was surprised that he did.
‘If you still want me, I’ll be happy to move in,’ he said, turning to look at her. His eyes were shining and he had a smile on his face.
Molly’s heart lost a beat. If you want me… the words echoed in her mind, and with a sudden surge of desire, she realised she did want him, very much indeed.
But that would never do, would it?
Instead, she nodded politely and said, ‘Good. I’ll get a contract drawn up. Make sure you look at it carefully, and if you want to discuss anything please let me know. It’s to protect you as much as to protect me,’ she said, ‘and I want to be fair to both of us.’
‘I’m sure you will be.’
‘Actually,’ she said, ‘you might change your mind when you see the bathroom. I can’t afford to replace it yet, so you’ll have to live with it, I’m afraid.’
‘It can’t be that bad?’
‘Don’t be so sure. Take a look for yourself.’ Then she burst out laughing at the horror on his face when he saw what was inside.
‘Dear God, you could have warned me that I needed sunglasses. What colour do you call that?’
‘Peach, I think. It could be worse – it could be green.’
He started laughing and shook his head. ‘You really do need help, don’t you?’
Molly nodded. She needed a lot of help, but she wasn’t just referring to the cottage…