Chapter 13
Jack took a final look around the house he had lived in for the past nine years, feeling incredibly sad. He had spent most of his adult life here and it was going to be a wrench to leave. The removal men were loading up the last of his possessions to take to Molly’s cottage, and were about to shut the door on the van.
He gave the front door an affectionate pat as he locked it, then straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. He had to look on this as a new beginning, and not as an ending. He was thinking of this move to the park keeper’s cottage as a steppingstone on the way to somewhere else. Unfortunately, he had no idea where.
Jack almost felt like a student again as he followed the van the short distance to Sweet Meadow Park. Except this time he had a couple of smart suits, a houseful of furniture, and a job: rather than a carful of ripped T-shirts, a homebrewing kit, and a student loan. And neither was he moving into student accommodation to live in a small cramped single room and fight over the contents of the communal fridge.
He was pleased he was able to bring all his furniture with him, everything that wasn’t inbuilt or screwed down, that is, rather than have to put it into storage. He had been dismayed to find that Molly had been sleeping on a blow-up bed, and didn’t even have a chair to her name. She had argued that there would be time enough to buy furniture when the cottage was completed, but Jack didn’t agree, especially since some of the rooms were habitable already.
Take the living room for instance – it had been rewired and replastered, and the tiles looked OK. With a bit of paint on the walls and a rug on the floor it would be good to go. The same applied to the bedrooms. Both of them had now been replastered, and Molly had sanded the floors down. A fine layer of dust still hung in the air, he’d noticed yesterday evening, when he had popped around after work to finalise things, but it was nothing that a good hoovering couldn’t sort out. The problem was that Molly didn’t have a vacuum cleaner, but that was OK: he had the solution. He had one of those super-duper rechargeable things, and he suspected over the course of the next few weeks he was going to make very good use of it.
Jack was surprised to see Molly waiting for him on the doorstep as his car pulled up to the cottage and tucked in behind the van, and he caught his breath at the sight of her.
She was wearing faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a plait. She looked fresh and wholesome, and incredibly lovely.
‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ he asked, feeling extremely pleased that she wasn’t.
‘I wrangled a couple of hours off. I thought you could do with a hand.’
He suspected the real reason was that she wanted to supervise him moving in. He didn’t have a problem with that: he was very aware this was her house, and he was a paying guest. Or rather, a non-paying guest, which made this situation even more precarious, despite the contract she had emailed to him, which he had scrutinised carefully and deemed to be very fair.
Over the following few hours the two of them worked extremely hard, arranging the various rooms to their satisfaction. And although he thought he might feel awkward, he didn’t. He was beginning to feel quite at home. He guessed it was probably because all the furniture in the house was his, so it was almost like being at home. The only sticky issue had come when she’d realised he had brought two beds with him, not one.
‘But I’ve only got two bedrooms,’ Molly had protested. ‘Where are we going to put the other one?’
‘I thought you could have it,’ Jack said. ‘It’s in good condition, honest.’
She stared at it doubtfully. ‘It doesn’t feel right, taking your things,’ she said.
Jack laughed. ‘You’re not taking it: I’m offering. If it’s any consolation, I promise to take it with me when I leave.’ Molly shot him a look, and he added hastily, ‘Not that I’m planning on leaving anytime soon, so don’t worry. What I mean is, you won’t be stuck with it. I’ve brought a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a bedside cabinet for you to use, as well,’ he said. ‘But if you want to sleep on the floor on a blow-up bed and live out of a suitcase, be my guest. I’ll arrange to put them into storage.’
Molly narrowed her eyes at him. ‘That won’t be necessary.’ Then her expression softened. ‘Thank you, you’re very kind.’ She blushed and he guessed she was embarrassed because she didn’t have a stick of furniture to call her own.
‘Actually, you’re doing me a favour,’ he said. ‘As I told you, I would only have had to put them into storage, or try to beg some garage space off someone. Shall I put the kettle on? We can have a quick cuppa, then I’ll do some hoovering.’ Ideally, he would have liked to have vacuumed before the removal man had carried the furniture into the room, but he hadn’t wanted to hold them up.
‘Do you dust as well?’ she asked, twinkling at him.
‘I do,’ he replied, giving her a so what look.
‘That’s good, because I’m hopeless at it.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who dust around things? I bet you hoover around the furniture, too.’
‘Guilty as charged,’ she said, lifting a box onto the mattress.
‘Here, let me do that,’ he offered.
‘It’s OK, I can manage. I’m stronger than I look.’
Jack thought back to the first time he’d seen her, trying to yank a large piece of chipboard off a window frame. ‘I know you are,’ he said. ‘Did you put in all those fence posts by yourself?’
She nodded proudly. ‘I did, but there are a few more to go.’
‘I’ll do them,’ he offered.
‘We can do them together,’ she said, and his heart skipped a beat again.
This was very weird: it was almost as though they were a couple.
Chantelle’s face popped into his mind, and he couldn’t for one moment imagine doing this kind of thing with her. She would probably break a nail, for a start.
That was unfair, he chided. When Chantelle had wormed her way into his life and his house, there hadn’t been any setting up home to be done. He had already done it. She’d added a few bits and pieces, such as cushions, throws, and candles – lots of candles – but that was about it. Maybe if his house had needed some work doing, she would have happily joined in. In fact, hadn’t she come over to help him paint last week?
As he filled the kettle with fresh water and plugged it in and Molly popped a tea bag into a couple of mugs, Jack was still thinking about his ex. She may well have offered to help him paint, but he had a feeling her heart hadn’t been in it. And he couldn’t help comparing her to Molly. Molly wasn’t in the least bit scared of getting her hands dirty, and he admired that. He wasn’t scared either, despite not having done much DIY or gardening in the past: he found he was looking forward to it.
But as he poured boiling water into the mugs, he had to ask himself whether he was looking forward to working with his hands, or looking forward to working with Molly? He strongly suspected the latter, and he had to remind himself this was a business arrangement. Nothing more.
***
Apart from her mum, Molly hadn’t cooked alongside anyone else before. She had cooked for them, but not with them. OK, she had, but she didn’t think the food technology lessons she’d had at school counted. She meant just her and one other person in the kitchen, cooking a meal together, for them to eat together.
It felt strangely intimate, and she kept glancing at Jack out of the corner of her eye, noting his strong forearms and his sure hands. Abruptly an image of those hands on her body flashed into her mind, and she had to have a drink of water to steady herself. Was this really going to work if she was having such thoughts about him when he’d only just moved in?
Maybe it would take a while to get into the swing of things, she reasoned hopefully, and she prayed that was the case, because if she couldn’t control her wayward thoughts she was going to be in a fine mess.
Now and again he would look up and catch her eye, and she would glance away quickly. She knew she was blushing, but she blamed it on the heat in the kitchen.
They were making curry from scratch, and he was busy chopping onions whilst she was cubing a couple of chicken breasts, Jet lying at her feet and staring up at her hopefully.
It was very cosy, and Molly wondered if this was what being married felt like – working companionably together to prepare a meal at the end of a long day.
She stifled a sigh: this was the closest she would get to feeling married for a very long time indeed. There had to be a man on the horizon for that to happen, but she hadn’t had a boyfriend for close to eighteen months. Not really. The odd night out with a guy didn’t count, especially when she normally ended up being in a hurry to get away, having realised she was making a big mistake.
It was also strange to have Jack in her kitchen, because he knew where everything was better than she did. Considering most of the cooking equipment and utensils belonged to him, and he had put them away, it was no surprise. Molly felt as though she was the guest, not him. Almost everything in the cottage was his, including the very bed she was going to sleep in tonight, and it gave her a very funny feeling. He’d told her it had been in the spare room, and as he had a bed of his own, he’d probably not spent even one night on the mattress she was about to sleep on. It didn’t stop her from feeling odd about it, though.
It made sense for Jack to have brought his furniture with him, rather than put it into storage, considering she didn’t have any. That was one of the things her mum had been aghast about when she and Dad had popped over on Sunday – Dad to help her remove the panels, Mum to have a good nose around. Her mum had practically begged her to at least sleep in her own room at home, if nothing else, but Molly had been adamant, and she had fully expected her mother to turn up with a complete set of furniture, so she’d warned her dad to keep Mum under control. Molly wouldn’t have been ungrateful – far from it – but she wanted to choose her own furniture.
So it was rather ironic that she’d not had a say in anything that was in her house now, not even a cushion.
Things have a funny way of turning out, don’t they, she said to herself. And it did make for an easier life. She no longer had to sit cross-legged on the blow-up mattress in the bedroom to eat her meal as she tried to balance it on her knees. She had a proper table to sit at, and chairs to park her bottom on. The cottage felt like a home now, and she had Jack to thank for that.
Finally the meal was ready, and Molly tucked in with enthusiasm. She was starving, and the food was delicious. For a few minutes nothing could be heard but the sound of cutlery on plates, but as soon as her immediate hunger was satisfied, Molly thought she would try to get to know Jack a little better.
‘So,’ she began brightly. ‘Here we are living together in the same house, and I don’t know a thing about you.’
Jack speared a chunk of chicken. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Are you from round here?’
‘Sweet Meadow? I’ve lived here all my life. We probably went to the same school. How old are you? I don’t remember you.’
‘Twenty-nine.’
‘That explains it. I’m five years older than you. You might know my sister, though. She’s thirty-one. Della Coles?
Molly wrinkled her nose as she thought. ‘The name’s familiar, but I can’t place her. What about your parents? Do they live nearby?’
‘I never knew my dad, or rather I knew of him, but he was killed in a motorbike accident not long after I was born. My mum remarried, to Della’s dad, but she got divorced a couple of years ago. She lives in York now. She had a kind of a midlife crisis, and she and her sister decided to open a sweet shop there.’
‘Ooh, I like the sound of that,’ Molly said.
‘I don’t think either of them realised quite how much hard work it would be,’ Jack said. ‘The shop is open seven days a week, and she hardly ever gets time off, so if I want to see her I have to go visit. I’ll bring you some sweets back next time, shall I? What sort do you like?’
‘The old-fashioned ones in jars,’ Molly said, and there followed a lively discussion about what kind of sweets they liked, and which ones they could remember from their childhoods.
By the time they had finished eating, they’d exhausted the subject and had moved on to puddings, the general consensus being that cheesecake was king and sticky toffee pudding came a close second.
Molly said, ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve only got strawberry yoghurt or an orange Kit Kat in the fridge.’
‘Orange Kit Kat?’ Jack looked disgusted. ‘That’s really wrong. It’s got to be a normal Kit Kat or nothing. Why do they do that? Take something that works perfectly well and then mess with it?’
Molly said, ‘I quite like them.’
They rose simultaneously and picked up their plates, and she gave him a self-conscious smile.
Jack said, ‘Shall I wash and you dry?’
‘Whichever suits you best,’ Molly said. She didn’t mind doing either.
‘I’ll wash,’ he said, and the matter was settled.
She was putting the last plate away while Jack was wiping down the countertops, when she announced, ‘I’m going to take Jet for his evening walk, if you’d like to come.’ Then she added hurriedly, ‘No pressure. I don’t expect you to come out with us. I wondered if you fancied stretching your legs. Unless you’ve done enough stretching for one day?’
They had been on their feet most of the day, but a walk was a walk, and Molly always felt invigorated afterwards. She was so glad she had Jet, otherwise she might not have realised how much she enjoyed strolling around her park.
‘I’ll come,’ he said. ‘It’ll do me good to get some fresh air.’
Molly took her usual route, turning left out of the cottage, walking past the huge main gates, which she glanced at to make sure were locked, then she carried on towards the children’s play area.
Jack said, ‘I haven’t come this way before. Is that supposed to be a roundabout?’
‘I think so, but it doesn’t go round anymore. And the swings aren’t much cop, either.’
One of them was wrapped around the top bar by its chains, another was hanging brokenly by one chain, and there was an empty space where a third swing should have been. The only thing which could possibly be used was the slide, but even that was rickety, and the climbing frame looked positively lethal.
Molly risked a quick look at Jake to try to gauge what he was thinking, but his face was blank. She was rather disappointed, because he clearly didn’t seem bothered about the state of the children’s play area. No wonder nobody came here. Not only was it unsightly and the equipment didn’t work, but it was positively dangerous, and the ground underneath sparkled in the late evening sun from fragments of broken glass. Thankfully the play area was fenced off, so Jet couldn’t dash through it and cut his paws.
At the end of the play area was another small gate leading to the road beyond, but Molly turned right, taking Jack towards the woodland. This particular path eventually turned in a big circle leading to the disused cafe and the bandstand, but she soon left it and cut up towards the meadow.
Jack didn’t say a word, but she noticed he was taking it all in, and when they reached the pond, she heard his sharp intake of breath.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Or it would be if it wasn’t for all the rubbish lying around.’
‘I see what you mean about the pond needing to be dredged,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the shopping trolley. It appeared to have been joined by another, and Molly wondered when it had been dumped there. Unfortunately, the park had four more entrances besides the main one, and even if it didn’t, it would make no difference because she was out most of the day. She could hardly monitor the comings and goings of the whole park when she was at work.
‘Ugh!’ Jack exclaimed, ducking and making Molly jump, but then she giggled when she realised why.
‘It’s only a dragonfly,’ she said, as it flew past his head for a second time.
‘It’s the size of a pterodactyl!’ he cried, tracking its swooping flight. ‘Oh, there are more of them.’
‘It’s an indication that the water is quite healthy, despite the way it looks. I saw a fox the other day, and Bill says there are rabbits here. I haven’t seen any myself, but I have noticed their droppings.’
‘Who’s Bill? Is that your dad?’
‘Bill is an old guy who walks his dog around the park. He often stops for a chat.’
Jack was looking thoughtful. ‘So there is wildlife here?’
‘Did you think I was making it up?’
He had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I did wonder,’ he said.
‘Does that mean you’ve had second thoughts about doing something about the park?’
‘No, sorry.’
He looked uncomfortable, and Molly winced. The last thing she wanted was for there to be an atmosphere between them. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. I promise I won’t mention it again.’
‘That’s OK.’ His eyes came to rest on her, and she felt a curious tingle.
She definitely was being ridiculous. She had to knock this on the head right away. It wouldn’t do for her to have a crush on her lodger!
Walking more briskly now, she led him away from the meadow and the pond, and through the grass until they reached the path once more.
‘I’m surprised you’re not more familiar with the park,’ Molly said. ‘Didn’t you used to hang out here when you were a teenager?’
‘I can’t say I did. Mind you, I was heavily into sport, so I spent most of my time training.’
‘For what?
‘The 5000 metres and the 10,000 metres.’
‘Running?’
‘Yeah, I was quite fast when I was younger, but not fast enough.’ His expression was rueful.
‘Would you have liked to take it further?’
‘I thought I would at one point,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t have the talent.’
‘You still enjoy running,’ she stated.
‘It’s in my blood. I run to unwind. I can’t think of anything better than going on a 20k run after a hard day’s work.’
Molly grimaced. ‘I can. I prefer to go for a walk, thank you. I can’t run for toffee.’
‘I bet he can.’ Jack was looking at the dog, who was still bouncing around, as full of energy now as when they had first set out.
‘No doubt,’ Molly said. ‘Bill, that’s the old man, thinks he’s part greyhound.’
‘I wonder if I could take him with me? Not for the whole 20k to start, because that might be too much, but maybe for a 5k run. What do you think?’
‘I don’t see why not. You’d have to keep him on the lead though.’
‘Oh, I definitely would,’ Jack said. ‘Maybe after we finish our chores tomorrow, I’ll go out for a short one and take him with me?’
‘I’m sure he’d like that.’
Even though Molly didn’t fancy running herself, she felt a little envious that Jack had offered to take Jet and not her, and for the umpteenth time she told herself not to be so silly. If he had offered, she would have had to say no. She could barely run to the nearest shop and back. Five kilometres would kill her.
There was another awkward moment when they returned to the cottage, as Molly wondered what to do with herself for the rest of the evening. It was far too early to go to bed, but she didn’t think Jack would appreciate it if she started shoving furniture out of the way so she could tackle the tile floor. Just because she was driven to finish the cottage in as short an amount of time as humanly possible, it didn’t mean he was. And she didn’t want him to feel obliged. She might have asked him to help renovate the cottage and the grounds in exchange for rent, but she didn’t expect him to work as hard or for as long as she.
It was at this point she lamented the lack of TV. Or, put it another way, Jack had brought a television with him, but there was no aerial and no broadband.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, when she found him on the sofa, trying to get a signal. ‘I haven’t had a chance to set up broadband yet, so there’s no Wi-Fi. I promise I’ll sort it out first thing in the morning.’
‘That’s OK. I’ll give them a call if you like, considering I’m living here too. I expect to pay my way.’
Molly was shaking her head. ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ she said. ‘I’ll set up the broadband and I’ll pay for it.’
‘But—’
‘No buts; this is my house and I don’t expect you to pay for things like that.’
‘But what about electricity and such?
‘I still have to turn the lights on whether you are here or not,’ Molly pointed out. ‘And I don’t think you cooking a meal for yourself each evening is going to make much of a difference to my energy bill. Buy your own food, that’s all I ask. Unless of course...’ She hesitated. ‘We could always put a certain amount each into a kitty, and buy common items like tea, coffee, and bread out of it.’
‘Why don’t we take it a step further?’ Jack suggested. ‘It seems silly cooking two separate meals, so maybe now and again whoever is home first can cook supper for both of us?’
Molly wondered whether that was what he used to do with his ex-wife or girlfriend, but she didn’t like to pry. It seemed a bit forward considering they were only just getting to know one another.
‘How about if we plan the meals for the week?’ she suggested.
‘I’m happy to do that if you are, and if there’s something I want to eat that you don’t like, or vice versa, we can eat separately on that evening. What do you think?’
‘I think that’s a brilliant idea, if you’re sure. I don’t want you to think you’ve been railroaded into anything you’re not happy with.’
‘I’m sure,’ he said. ‘But I do wish you would let me pay for the broadband.’
‘Definitely not.’ Molly was adamant. This was her house, and she would take care of the bills. Besides, she didn’t want the hassle of having to set it up again when he left. Because he invariably would leave at some point. Both of them were well aware that this was not a long-term arrangement.
‘But—’ he began, and Molly rounded on him with a ‘Shush!’
He blinked. ‘Did you just shush me?’
‘Yes, I did.’ She lifted her chin, prepared to do battle, then she saw the twinkle in his eye. ‘I think we’re having our first argument,’ she said, chuckling.
‘No, we’re not,’ Jack countered.
‘Yes, we are…’ Molly stopped and rolled her eyes. ‘I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come,’ she said dryly.
‘I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour from now on,’ Jack said. ‘Starting with getting the TV working.’
‘I thought we’d already discussed that,’ Molly began to object.
Jack held up his phone. ‘We can get around it this evening by using my phone as a mobile hotspot,’ he said. ‘But I’ve got to warn you – my data, my choice of programme.’
Molly narrowed her eyes, then she shot across the room and snatched up the remote control from the floor and danced out of reach. ‘Not if I’ve got the zapper,’ she teased.
‘Zapper? Is that what you call it?’
‘Why, what do you call it?’
‘The doofer, or the whatchamacallit. I’m going to need you to give it back,’ he said, ‘because I can’t connect my mobile and the TV without it, so there.’ He stuck his tongue out at her.
Molly stared at his mouth, feeling a sudden urge to kiss him. Dear God, and this was only day one.
‘While you do that, I’ll make us a cup of tea,’ she said, hurrying out to the kitchen, desperate to put some distance between them, because she had a horrible feeling that inviting Jack into her home was one of the worst decisions of her life.
How could it not be, when she was already starting to fall for him?