Chapter 16
Blimey, it’s warm, Jack thought as he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and dragged it over his head. It might only be May, but the temperature was more like high summer, and he could feel a trickle of sweat running down his back between his shoulder blades. Thank goodness this was the last hole. The ground he was trying to excavate for the final fence post was riddled with tree roots which he didn’t want to damage. He knew from experience that damaged roots could weaken a tree, and the last thing he wanted was for the nearby sweet chestnut to topple.
He dug the spade in again, putting his back into it, his foot grinding the blade deeper into the soil. He did this a few more times until he’d loosened the earth, then he scooped it out. When he deemed the hole was big enough, he turned his attention to the last remaining bag of quick-drying cement. He would mix it up, drop the fence post in, make sure it was level, then he’d take a break.
At least he was working up an appetite for lunch. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Molly he hadn’t had a proper Sunday lunch in ages, and he was looking forward to this one. He hoped Molly’s mum and dad liked him. Reading between the lines and seeing Molly’s expression when she’d thought that her mum had popped in yesterday, he guessed Molly’s mother was concerned that a strange man was living with her daughter. He didn’t blame her. If he had a daughter, he would feel exactly the same way. After all, it wasn’t as though he and Molly had known each other for ages. They had only met a couple of weeks ago. He could be anyone.
Jack was offering up the spirit level to the post, making sure it was dead straight and didn’t have a list, when he heard the sound of heavy paws running up to him and felt a boop on his leg. Stepping away from the post carefully so as not to nudge it, he turned around to see Jet wagging his tail so hard that his whole behind waggled from side to side.
‘Where’s your mistress?’ he asked, then spotted Molly coming around the corner. She was carrying a black plastic bag in one hand and a litter picker in the other.
He walked forward to take the bag from her, wondering whether he should offer to go with her the next time.
‘It’s alright, I can manage,’ she said, as he held out his hand for the bag. ‘It’s not heavy: it’s mainly food wrappers, plastic bottles, and a couple of cans. Not much of a haul today.’
She looked uncomfortable, and he wondered whether it was because he had refused to help in his capacity as Parks and Highways Officer. But that didn’t prevent him from helping personally, did it? The question was, did he want to get involved? It was one thing lending a hand with the cottage and its grounds, because that was the agreement for him to live here rent-free, but should he extend that helping hand to the park itself? Would she see it as a step towards him diverting council funds into the park, and if so, would that lead to conflict between them?
On the other hand, cleaning up the park clearly meant a great deal to her, and he could see the effort she was making and the positive impact her daily litter pick was having. Would it hurt him to go with her now and again?
The more time he spent here, the more the park was growing on him. He could appreciate what Molly saw in it, and he was finally able to look beyond the tatty benches, the boarded-up cafe, the overgrown field and the impenetrable woodland, to imagine how it must have looked when there had been an actual park keeper living in the cottage. It must have been a grand place to spend an afternoon. Nowadays, though, the only people who wanted to hang around in it were youngsters with nothing better to do and nowhere else to go. It was such a shame – for both the park and for the kids.
Molly put the bag of rubbish in the wheelie bin, then went inside the house.
Jack watched her go. He had been doing that a lot since he’d moved in – watching her. If he’d thought he was attracted to her when he’d first seen her, he was doubly so now that he was getting to know her. Despite her initial prickliness, he’d come to realise she was funny, thoughtful, and sweet. Combined with a wicked sense of humour and a quick wit, she was a delight to be around. She was also easy on the eye. Very easy. In fact, he thought she was gorgeous.
No sooner had she gone into the cottage, she was back outside again, this time carrying a couple of glasses of water. He noticed that she had also changed into her scruffs and had tied her hair up. She looked incredibly cute.
Glancing away, he uttered a gruff thanks when she handed him his water, and he downed the drink in one.
‘Gosh, you were thirsty,’ she said.
‘It’s warmer than I was expecting,’ he replied, and saw her eyes flicker over his chest.
Feeling a little self-conscious, he turned away, well aware that he wasn’t as ripped as he would like to be.
Who was he kidding! He wasn’t ripped at all. Weedy was the word that came to mind. It was all that running he did. A sprinter needed power and muscle. A marathon runner needed to carry as little weight as possible. It wasn’t fun hauling around a couple of extra kilos when you were trying to run forty-two kilometres.
By the time he glanced back at her, Molly’s attention was on the last fence post.
‘Good job,’ she said. ‘It looks brill, doesn’t it?’
‘It’ll do,’ Jack muttered. He was still feeling a little disconcerted that his top half was bare, and she had been staring at him. ‘Do you think we’ll have time to hang the small gate before we go to your parents’ house?’
Molly checked the time on her phone. ‘I don’t see why not. I’ll fetch the hinges and the screwdriver.’
He deliberately tried not to watch her walk away this time, for fear he was becoming fixated on her. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. The way her hips swung was fascinating.
By the time she came back into the garden, he had slipped his T-shirt back on, telling himself he had cooled down sufficiently, and it had nothing to do with him being self-conscious.
Jack lifted the gate from where it was tucked down the side of the house, and offered it up to the opening between the posts. It fitted perfectly, so he marked out on the wood where the hinges were to go on the gate, and screwed them into place. When that was done, he lifted the gate again and held it in position.
‘If I take the weight, can you screw this part of the hinge?’ he asked.
Molly nodded and got to work. She was so close he could smell her perfume. It was light and fresh, and he inhaled deeply, the scent of her intoxicating. He breathed in again and felt a little lightheaded… Gosh, the sun must be stronger than he thought.
‘There, all done.’ She straightened up and stepped back, admiring their handiwork.
Jack gingerly released his hold on the gate and was pleased to see it was level.
‘We make a good team,’ he declared, holding his palm up for her to slap, but when she did, he yelped as a tingle shot through him. ‘You don’t half pack a punch,’ he lied.
‘Wuss,’ she teased. ‘Stay there, I’ve got a latch to put on.’ She fished in her pocket and brought out a black wrought iron catch.
‘Where do you want it?’ he asked, holding it up against the opposite post to the hinges. ‘There?’ When she didn’t reply, he moved it a couple of centimetres. ‘Or there?’
‘That’s perfect,’ she declared. ‘Don’t move.’
Once again she was so close he could smell her. Her head was bent as she fastened the latch into position and his eyes were drawn to the nape of her neck. Her skin looked very soft and extremely kissable.
Clearing his throat, Jack dragged his gaze away and stared into the distance, focusing on a tree, the shape of its trunk, the movement of its leaves in the gentle breeze... anything other than how she made him feel.
As soon as she was done, he moved smartly out of the way, giving her space to open and close the gate and make sure the latch was working.
‘I’m pleased with that,’ she said. ‘It’s coming along, isn’t it? Thank you so much for helping.’
Gruffly he said, ‘I didn’t think I had any choice,’ then he realised how that had sounded when she gave him a sharp look. Smiling to show he was teasing, he added, ‘I thought that was the whole point of me being here? Room in exchange for rent?’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘Why should I mind? I agreed to this. You didn’t railroad me into it. You’re doing me a favour.’
‘And you’re doing me a favour, too,’ Molly replied.
Then they stared at each other before bursting out laughing, and Jack realised he was enjoying helping Molly with her house and garden more than he would have believed possible.
‘I’d better jump in the shower,’ Molly said, sobering.
‘Me, too,’ Jack said, then winced. ‘I mean, I’ll have a shower after you,’ he explained.
‘I knew what you meant,’ she chuckled, and she continued to laugh as she went inside.
Jack followed slowly, images of Molly in the shower plaguing him, and he shook his head to clear them away.
Unfortunately, those images quickly returned when he went upstairs and bumped into a rather damp Molly coming out of the bathroom. She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, and another secured under her armpits. The skin on her shoulders glistened with droplets of water, and her cheeks were flushed. The sight of her nearly took his breath away.
‘Oh, er, sorry,’ he stuttered. ‘I thought you had finished.’
‘I have,’ she said. ‘The bathroom is all yours.’
But it wasn’t all his, because when he stepped under the hot spray, he couldn’t help imagining Molly in there with him.
***
Molly thought she should have had a cold shower, because she was still all hot and bothered after seeing Jack stripped down to the waist and with streaks of dirt across his chest from putting the last fence post in. She’d been unable to take her eyes off the trickle of sweat working its way from the dip at his throat, between his pectoral muscles, heading south.
But when it had reached the waistband of his jeans, she had suddenly realised she was staring and had hurried inside. Hastily she’d changed into old clothes and poured them both a glass of water. Her mouth had gone dry, but it hadn’t been from the warmth of the morning. Jack, on the other hand, could probably do with a drink because he’d been grafting hard, and once again her treacherous thoughts had returned to his chest.
He’d looked good enough to eat and she’d had to make a supreme effort to appear normal.
Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to have noticed, but she had still been very much aware of him while they were hanging the gate. He had been standing so close that she’d been able to smell the heady aroma of man at work combined with the aftershave he wore. It had taken all her willpower not to throw herself at him.
Goodness, what was wrong with her? She hadn’t felt this way about a man for a very long time. If ever. She was almost drooling over him! Thank God he didn’t know what she was thinking. If he had the slightest hint of how she felt, she’d be mortified. To make matters worse, she had almost dropped her towel when she’d emerged from the bathroom to find him standing on the landing. Talk about offering it to him on a plate!
And then, to add to her embarrassment, when she heard the shower running, she could far too easily imagine him standing there with water cascading over his body, sluicing the sweat from his chest. She could do with another shower herself – to wash such mucky thoughts from her mind.
She was still blushing as she drove to her parents’ house, Jack sitting in the passenger seat. Throughout the short journey she was terribly conscious of his long legs folded into the footwell, of his knee almost touching the gear stick, and there was the smell of him again, clean and male, and totally delectable. His hair was damp from his shower, and it curled on the top of his head, one lock falling artfully over his forehead. He kept running his hand through it, pushing it off his brow, but it would inevitably flop back.
Neither of them said much on the journey, Molly because she was scared of what she might inadvertently say, and Jack was probably silent because he was tired from his exertions this morning. He was doing a good job on the fence, and she meant it when she’d told him she was grateful. She honestly didn’t expect him to work so hard, but she was glad he had, especially if it meant he got hot and sweaty and took his T-shirt off.
‘Stop that.’
‘Pardon?’ Jack was staring at her curiously.
Oh dear, she’d said that out loud.
‘What did you say?’ he repeated.
‘Nothing.’
‘I could have sworn you said something.’
‘Did I? I don’t think so. I might have coughed: is that what you heard?’
‘That must have been it,’ he said.
Thankfully Molly was able to change the subject as she pulled up in front of her mum and dad’s house.
‘We’re here,’ she announced unnecessarily, feeling surprisingly nervous. She hoped her parents liked Jack, and that he liked them. It was ridiculous, because it shouldn’t matter whether her parents liked her lodger or not. This was a business arrangement, nothing more. It wasn’t as though she was introducing them to her boyfriend; and she was only bringing Jack with her today because her mum had insisted on meeting him.
Her mother was in the kitchen when Molly led Jack into the house.
‘Hi, Mum. Hi, Granny.’ Molly bent to kiss her grandmother who was sitting at the tiny kitchen table, slicing green beans.
Her granny dropped the knife and the runner bean she was holding, and tilted her cheek to be kissed. ‘Molly, my darling girl. How are you? You’re looking well. And who is this young man? Your boyfriend?’
‘No, Mum,’ Molly’s mother said. ‘He’s her lodger. I told you, remember?’
‘I was expecting somebody older,’ her grandmother said. ‘Are you sure he’s her lodger?’
Molly’s mum sighed. ‘I’m sure.’
‘He’s too handsome to be a lodger.’ Her granny resumed slicing beans, and Molly bit her lip to hold back a giggle.
She caught Jack’s eye, and bit harder.
‘I’m Evelyn,’ her grandma said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Jack.’ Jack held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
Evelyn dropped the knife once more. ‘Ooh, hasn’t he got lovely manners.’ She turned to Molly’s mum. ‘Teresa, are you sure he’s not her boyfriend?’
‘I’m sure.’ This was said through gritted teeth, and Molly guessed that her mother was finding Granny difficult. Granny was hard of hearing, and she could be a bit forgetful too. Combined with a stubborn streak and only hearing what she wanted to hear, sometimes Granny could be hard work. But Molly adored her.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ her mother asked Molly. She was scrutinising Jack from head to toe.
Molly hoped she liked what she saw. Jack was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms, a pair of smart jeans, and trainers. Molly certainly liked what she saw.
‘Jack, this is my mum, Teresa. Mum this is Jack.’
Her mum said, ‘Excuse me if I don’t shake hands, I want to get these potatoes peeled.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Jack said.
‘I hope you like roast pork,’ Teresa said, ‘because that’s what we’re having.’
Molly thought she sounded a bit belligerent, as though she was spoiling for a fight.
Jack said mildly, ‘Pork is my favourite.’
Evelyn piped up, ‘She makes lovely crackling. Of course, I can’t eat it nowadays, not with my dentures, but a young chap like you with good strong teeth should be able to.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help, Mum?’ Molly asked, trying not to laugh.
‘It’s all in hand. Why don’t you go and find your father? He’s in the shed. Hiding.’
‘Good idea,’ Molly said. She had been wondering where her dad had got to. ‘Come on, Jack.’
She checked that Jack was following and that her mother hadn’t waylaid him, and when she saw that he was, she led him down the garden path to the shed at the end.
She stuck her head around the door and saw her dad sitting at his workbench, tying flies. ‘Hi, Dad. Mum said you were hiding.’
‘It’s best to keep out of her way when she’s in one of her moods,’ her dad said. ‘Hello, you must be Jack. How are you settling in?’
‘Good, thanks. The cottage is lovely.’
‘Molly’s mum and I thought she was mad to buy it, but I must admit she’s already worked wonders. It looks like a different place.’
‘It does, doesn’t it,’ Jack agreed. ‘I often run through the park, and I used to think how sad it looked, boarded up and unlived in.’
‘I hear she’s roped you in to help.’
‘She drives a hard bargain, does your daughter,’ Jack said.
‘She’s stubborn, like her mother. I’m Duncan, by the way.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Jack held out his hand.
‘Likewise.’
The two men shook, then Jack stooped down to see what her father was doing. ‘I take it you’re a fisherman?’
‘Oh, yes, I’m an extremely keen angler,’ her dad said.
‘Do you catch much?’
‘I don’t do too bad. Of course, it’s all catch and release around here, but I have got some photos if you’d like to see them?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘I’ll show you after lunch. Do you do any fishing?’
Molly let out a slow sigh of relief. One down, one to go, she thought. Her dad seemed to approve of Jack and was happily chatting about fishing with him. She didn’t know whether Jack knew anything about the subject, but he was listening avidly and asking questions, therefore her dad was in his element.
Now all Jack had to do was to win her mother around. Unfortunately, her mum was a tougher nut to crack, and Molly had seen the suspicion in her eyes.
The Spanish Inquisition began the moment Jack took a seat at the table.
‘Help yourself to veg,’ Teresa said.
‘This looks lovely.’ Jack didn’t move a muscle, so Molly spooned some carrots onto his plate and he smiled gratefully at her.
She could tell he was feeling somewhat out of his depth, and she felt sorry for him, wondering how she would feel if their roles were reversed and she was sitting opposite his mother.
‘I haven’t had a roast dinner in ages,’ he said.
‘Don’t you cook for yourself?’ Teresa asked.
‘I do, but I’m hopeless at making gravy.’
‘What about your mum? Does she cook?’
‘She does, but she lives near York, so I don’t get to see her more than a few times a year.’
‘Wife?’
Molly cringed.
‘I don’t have one.’ Jack’s expression was guarded.
‘Girlfriend?’
‘I haven’t got one of those, either.’
‘Mum,’ Molly hissed.
‘It’s OK,’ Jack said. ‘She’s got a right to ask.’
‘Molly tells me you work for the council. What exactly is it you do?’ Her mum moved the gravy boat closer to him, and Jack picked it up and poured a trickle onto his plate.
He gave Molly an apologetic look before answering. ‘I’m the Parks and Highways Officer.’
‘I see,’ Teresa said.
Molly leapt in. ‘Before you ask, he can’t do anything about the state of the park.’
Her mother pursed her lips. ‘Why ever not?’
‘The council can’t afford it,’ Molly explained.
‘Nonsense!’ This was from Granny. ‘They had plenty of money to spend on those new council offices, so I’m sure they can find some to tart up the park.’
‘I wish it was that simple,’ Jack began.
‘How difficult can it be?’ Granny demanded.
Molly speared a roast potato, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. She shouldn’t have brought him. It wasn’t fair. He might be a bit of a jobsworth, but he didn’t deserve this grilling.
‘I’m accountable for the budget,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve got to justify where I spend the money.’
‘And you don’t think Sweet Meadow Park is worth it?’ Molly’s mum snapped.
‘No, I don’t. There has been quite a bit of money spent on it in the past, all to no avail. People don’t seem to value the park very much.’
Granny waved her fork in the air. ‘People got no respect these days. That park has got a terrible reputation. I nearly turned in my grave when I found out our Molly had bought the old park keeper’s cottage.’
‘You’ve got to be dead to turn in your grave, Granny,’ Molly pointed out.
‘You know what I mean. I do wish you’d bought a nice little flat somewhere.’
Molly rolled her eyes.
‘I saw that,’ Granny said. ‘That’s what I mean about no respect.’
‘I do respect you, Granny,’ Molly said. See, she said to herself, this was why she hadn’t told anyone she was planning to buy it when she saw the cottage come up for sale. She knew her parents and her granny would object. She also suspected she wouldn’t hear the end of it. ‘It’ll be lovely when it’s done, Granny. You’ll have to come and visit.’
Molly’s dad said, ‘She’s doing a grand job. Won’t accept any help from me, the stubborn little madam. She wants to do it all herself. Except for Jack.’
Thankful that the topic of conversation had moved away from Jack’s personal life and on to the cottage, Molly filled her family in on its progress, ending with, ‘Now that the plastering has been done, we should be able to put the skirting boards back on and the dado rails, and all the other decorative pieces, and then it’s simply a question of decorating.’
Her dad raised his eyebrows. ‘You make it sound very easy.’
‘It hasn’t been as bad as I thought,’ Molly admitted. ‘I assumed I would have to take all the old rendering off the inside, but I didn’t, so that saved loads of time. I did have to take about twenty layers of wallpaper off though. But to be fair, it came off without too much bother. I’ve still got the floors to do downstairs, and of course I need new kitchen units, and the bathroom needs a complete overhaul, but I can manage as it is for now.’ She glanced at Jack and caught his eye. ‘We can manage for now,’ she amended.
‘I still wish you would live at home until all the renovations are done,’ her mother grumbled. She turned to Evelyn. ‘You ought to see the mess she was living in. I wouldn’t have let a dog live in it.’
‘It wasn’t for long,’ Molly objected. ‘And it looks really homely now that Jack has moved all his furniture in.’
Teresa tilted her head to the side. ‘What made you decide to sell your house, Jack? ‘
‘Has everyone finished?’ Molly asked brightly, jumping to her feet. It was none of her mother’s business, and neither was it any of Molly’s, although she was dying to know. But she could tell that Jack felt uncomfortable, so as she reached across to pick up his empty plate she hissed in his ear, ‘You don’t have to answer that.’
Jack gave her a grateful look, and he also got to his feet. ‘I’ll help you clear up.’
Molly smirked. If there was one thing guaranteed to get her mum on her high horse, it was the thought of guests messing about in her kitchen.
‘No, you won’t,’ Teresa commanded. ‘You sit back down. Molly and I can manage. Have you got room for some apple crumble and custard?’
‘Yes, please,’ Jack said.
‘Not too much for me, Teresa,’ Granny said.
Molly and her mum exchanged glances. Molly knew full well that despite her granny’s protestations, the old lady could pack away a fair amount of food when she had a mind to.
She followed her mum out to the kitchen, dishes in hand, and popped them on the counter next to the sink. She was about to go back into the dining room for some more, when her mother grabbed hold of her arm.
‘I can see what you see in him,’ Teresa smirked.
‘Pardon?’
‘He’s a bit of alright, isn’t he?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘He’s not bad looking.’
‘Is he? I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Don’t give me that, Molly Brown,’ her mum said. ‘I saw the way you were looking at him. You fancy him.’
‘I do not,’ Molly objected, then blushed furiously. Even as she was denying it, Molly knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful. That was precisely what she had been doing this morning – fancying him.
‘I think he likes you, too,’ her mother continued, ignoring Molly’s stricken expression.
‘I doubt that very much.’
Teresa gave her a knowing look. ‘He can’t take his eyes off you.’
‘That’s probably because he’s trying to subconsciously beg me to get him out of here,’ Molly retorted. ‘I can’t believe you questioned him about whether he had a wife or a girlfriend.’
‘I wouldn’t have had to ask him at all, if you had given me more information.’
‘It’s none of our business.’
‘You don’t know either, do you? And it will be your business when you get all jiggy with him.’
‘Mum!’
Her mother pulled a face. ‘Take my advice – get to know a bit more about him before you hop into bed with him.’
‘I have no intention of hopping into bed with him,’ Molly hissed, keeping her voice low. She’d be mortified if Jack heard the way they were talking about him.
Her mother looked disappointed, and Molly pointed out, ‘I thought you weren’t too keen on him?’
‘That was before I met him. He seems nice enough.’
‘He is nice, but that doesn’t mean I want a relationship with him. He’s not my type.’
Her mother was looking thoughtful. ‘I suppose when the renovations are completed, you will have to start charging him rent.’
‘Don’t worry about that; there will be plenty for him to do. I’ve got plans for him to help me with the park.’
‘I thought the council couldn’t afford it?’
‘Apparently they can’t, but what I’m thinking of won’t cost money – not much anyway. It will take an awful lot of hard work, though. Jack doesn’t know it yet, but as long as he’s living in my cottage, he’s going to help me make Sweet Meadow Park beautiful once more.’