Chapter 17
Jack dropped his pen onto the desk and leant back in his chair. Thank God it’s Friday, he thought. He was shattered. He also couldn’t believe it was exactly a week today since he’d moved into Molly’s cottage. He felt like he had been living there for a lot longer.
Mind you, that wasn’t surprising considering the amount that had been achieved in those seven days. The fence around the cottage had been completed and the wooden gates had been hung, and they looked good, even if he did say so himself. This weekend they planned on giving the fence a coat of wood preserver, but first there was plenty of painting to be done inside now that the skirting boards had been put back on and the dado rails had been re-attached to the walls. That had been one hell of a learning curve. Before moving into the cottage, Jack hadn’t even known what a dado rail was, and he’d had to dig deep into his high school education to remember how to work out angles, because the first few attempts at cutting the wood beading to fit into a corner had been an absolute disaster. Still, between them he and Molly had managed it. He had used the same principle when putting the coving up on the ceiling, and although it wasn’t perfect, once it was painted no one would notice.
He was looking forward to going home, he thought, lifting his arms above his head to ease out the kinks in his back and shoulders. Then he caught himself.
Home– he had just referred to the park keeper’s cottage as home. He supposed it was only natural considering he was living there, but he did feel as though it was his. He had invested so much time and energy into it over this past week, and he knew every nook and cranny that he felt as though he owned it: apart from Molly’s bedroom, which he hadn’t ventured into yet because they wouldn’t tackle the upstairs until the downstairs was done.
It was odd, but he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now, and when he tried, his heart sank. Despite having only lived there for a week, the thought of leaving the cottage made him feel incredibly sad.
But was it the thought of living somewhere else that bothered him, or the thought of not living with Molly?
He loved waking up in the morning, knowing he wasn’t alone in the house, and that she was just across the landing. He loved joining her on her early morning walks, and he didn’t even mind litter picking with her. Over the course of the past few days, it had become a competition to see who could collect the most rubbish. Even Jet joined in, rooting around in the undergrowth and bringing back plastic bottles which he obediently dropped into the nearest refuse bag. However, because they were doing it on a daily basis, there wasn’t much to collect these days.
Although he never would have believed it possible, Jack found it quite invigorating to go out for a walk before breakfast. When he’d lived in his old house, as soon as the alarm went off he had pressed the snooze button, often more than once, until he would eventually roll out of bed and into the shower, bleary-eyed and reluctant, before forcing a cup of coffee down his throat and stumbling out of the door.
These days he needed no encouragement to get out of bed. He was often awake before the alarm, although he still didn’t dance into work. The reluctance hadn’t gone away, but it was more to do with not wanting to go to work because there was so much to be done in the cottage, rather than a reluctance to start his day. He often even managed to eat some breakfast, which had confused Sue in the canteen, because as a consequence he had been taking his break later than usual and he hadn’t had a fried breakfast at all this week.
He couldn’t wait to go home this evening, and he relished the thought of two whole days stretching out in front of him. He knew he wouldn’t be using them for rest and relaxation, because Molly was a little dynamo. She didn’t stop from the minute she got up, to the minute she went to bed, and he couldn’t sit there and watch her work, could he? He had to get involved, and if that meant gluing on coving at ten-thirty in the evening, then so be it.
It wasn’t only working with his hands that he was enjoying: it was spending time with Molly, and he was looking forward to seeing her later. He’d probably arrive home before her as he liked to finish early on a Friday, although he intended going for a run. The last time he went, he’d taken Jet with him. Jack had been apprehensive at first, wondering whether the dog would get caught up in his feet or would try to run ahead and pull on his lead, but Jet had behaved impeccably, and Jack had enjoyed himself. He hadn’t gone very far because he wanted to see how Jet would cope, but now that he was more confident about the dog, he’d attempt a longer run today. And if he returned before Molly arrived home, he’d start the evening meal. If she was home first, she would begin cooking.
It was like being married, but to his surprise the thought didn’t fill him with horror – not like the way he’d felt whenever Chantelle had dropped hints about them getting engaged. He had shied away from that idea pretty sharpish. But he didn’t feel like that where Molly was concerned. He loved living in the cottage, and he loved living in it with Molly. Maybe he also loved Molly a little bit, too…
Before he could fully grasp that thought, Chantelle appeared in the doorway and rapped out a knock with her knuckles.
‘You look miles away,’ she said.
Jack blew out his cheeks. He had managed to avoid his ex-girlfriend since last week, so he wasn’t too pleased to see her today. He’d hoped she had finally got the hint to leave him alone. He wasn’t happy with her invading his office, as she sauntered forward, kicking the door shut behind her.
Feeling cornered, he picked up his pen and leant forward to peer at his computer screen. ‘I was thinking,’ he said.
‘Do you always have a smile on your face when you’re thinking?’ she asked, coming even closer to perch her bottom on the corner of his desk.
Jack shuffled away a few centimetres, trying not to make it look obvious. ‘Depends what I’m thinking about,’ he said.
‘Something nice, by the look of it.’ Chantelle pouted at him.
‘What can I do for you?’ His tone was brisk.
‘I’m sure I can think of something,’ she said suggestively, her head low as she gazed up at him from underneath her lashes. ‘But that’s not why I wanted to speak to you. Your house is on the market.’
‘You knew I was putting it up for sale.’
‘I didn’t realise you had already moved out. I’ve seen the photographs online – the house is empty.’ She sounded almost accusatory.
‘So?’
‘So… where are you living now?’
‘Sorry, Chantelle, but do you really need to know?’ He was tempted to tell her to mind her own business, but thought he’d better not. The last thing he wanted was for her to cause a scene, which she was perfectly capable of doing.
Her lips narrowed in annoyance. ‘Actually, yes, I do. HR has been requested to ensure all postal addresses are up to date, so I’m afraid I do need your address.’
‘Why?’
‘There will be a letter going out soon from the Chief Exec to all council staff.’
Jack’s stomach turned over. ‘What’s it about?’
‘You know I can’t tell you that,’ Chantelle simpered at him. ‘You’ll have to read it.’
Oh dear, that didn’t sound promising. If it was good news, she wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him, so that meant it was bad. He hoped it wasn’t too bad.
With a sigh, Jack grabbed a sticky note and scribbled his address on it then handed it to her.
Chantelle read it with raised eyebrows. ‘You’re living in the middle of Sweet Meadow Park?’
‘It’s only temporary. I’m renting for the time being.’
‘Thank goodness for that. You do realise that’s where all the yobs hang out?’
‘I can’t say I’ve seen much evidence of that,’ he said. Except for the litter and a bit of shouting in the evenings, which he hadn’t really been aware of, he hadn’t been unduly bothered by any of the visitors to the park; apart from the fox, although the creature’s unholy shrieking didn’t disturb him as often now as it had when he’d first moved into Molly’s cottage.
‘I’ll have to pop by and see it sometime,’ she said.
‘I wouldn’t bother.’ Jack hurriedly tried to put Chantelle off. ‘Let me move in properly first.’
‘I thought you had?’
‘Yes, but it needs a bit of work doing. ‘
‘Surely your landlord should have done that before you moved in?’
‘Maybe… perhaps… it’s complicated.’ Jack was aware he was blustering, but he didn’t want Chantelle to know his private business, and certainly not where it concerned Molly and his arrangement with her.
‘Next time you move,’ Chantelle said, tapping the sticky note with her finger, ‘make sure you let HR know immediately.’
‘Of course. Sorry, I didn’t think of it. Too many other things on my mind.’
‘I hope you settle in soon, and when you do you’ll have to have a house-warming party.’
Jack was horrified. A party was the last thing he wanted. He simply couldn’t imagine Molly and Chantelle in the same room. Chantelle would eat Molly alive. And although nothing was going on between him and Molly, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chantelle wouldn’t see it that way.
He waited for his ex to leave, her heels echoing down the hall, before he risked peeking out of the door. The coast was clear, so he hurried towards the water cooler near the lifts. His mouth was dry and his stomach was churning, and he didn’t know whether it was because of the imminent letter from the Chief Executive, or because Chantelle knew where he lived. He prayed to goodness she wouldn’t turn up on his doorstep with a housewarming present. It would be just like her.
The lift pinged and he froze, hoping it wasn’t Chantelle coming back because she’d forgotten something, and he exhaled in relief when he saw it was Pete.
‘What’s wrong?’ his colleague demanded. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I’ve just had Chantelle in my office.’
‘Ah, I see. That explains it.’ Pete knew all about Chantelle. ‘What did she want?’
‘I told you my house is on the market, didn’t I?’
‘You did.’
‘Chantelle saw it online and realised I’d moved out. She wanted my new address.’
‘Did you give it to her?’
‘I had to. She does work in HR after all, so she is entitled to ask for it and I’m obliged to give it. Anyway, she said HR has been tasked with ensuring all the postal addresses they have on file are up to date. Apparently, there’s a letter coming out from the Chief Exec.’
‘That’s no surprise, although I hadn’t heard about any letter,’ Pete said, refilling his water bottle. He began walking towards his office, and Jack fell into step beside him.
‘What have you heard? I tried to ask Chantelle but she wasn’t giving anything away.’
‘What haven’t I heard,’ Pete grunted, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Everything from the council moving to new offices—’ he barked out a laugh ‘—unlikely considering the amount they’ve spent on this place, to rumours that Parks and Highways are going to amalgamate with Waste Management, or maybe even Property Services.’
‘What do you think is going to happen?’
‘No idea, but they do this to us every now and again, don’t they? Last year there were rumours they were closing libraries and leisure centres, but the public kicked up such a stink they thought they’d better not. So I suppose this is a new initiative to try to claw back some money by doing away with people’s salaries. Anyway, I’d better get back to work, I don’t want to be accused of slacking, not in the current climate.’
Neither did Jack, but as he sat down and stared at the spreadsheet in front of him, he wasn’t able to concentrate. The last thing he needed right now was further worry about his job. For the past week he had managed to push it to the back of his mind, but it was very much in the forefront again, and he pulled a face. Maybe it was time to start looking for a new one?
***
‘Got anything nice planned for the weekend?’ Astrid asked as Molly switched off her computer.
‘Painting the living room and the snug,’ she said. ‘And possibly the hall and the stairs if we’ve got time.’
‘Listen to you, if we’ve got time. You sound like a proper married couple.’
‘Don’t start that again. You’ve done nothing but tease me about Jack ever since he moved in.’
‘That’s because you haven’t stopped talking about him,’ Astrid pointed out. ‘It’s been about a week, hasn’t it?’
‘A week today.’
‘And you’ve mentioned him every single day, several times.’
‘That’s because he’s doing such good work in the cottage,’ Molly protested. She didn’t talk about him that much, did she?
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ Astrid said. ‘The last time I was in the park, the cottage was a right mess.’
‘It’s looking very different already,’ Molley said with pride.
‘Living there seems to suit you. You’re positively glowing. Or is that because of the delectable Jack?’
‘How do you know he’s delectable? You haven’t even met him.’
‘I’ve seen the official council photo of him you sent me, and you clearly think he is. Have you got any more? And don’t try to tell me you haven’t taken any of him, because I won’t believe you.’
Molly’s cheeks burned. She had taken several photos of Jack, but he wasn’t aware of it. She’d taken them on the pretence of logging the work that had been done so she could look back on it and marvel at how far they’d come. It was a coincidence Jack had happened to be in the frame when she had taken the picture.
With a sigh, she fished her phone out of her bag and scrolled through it, before handing it to Astrid.
‘Flipping heck, he’s not bad looking, is he? You’ve landed on your feet there, girlie.’
‘I keep telling you, he’s my lodger.’
‘Doesn’t mean to say you can’t have one that’s nice to look at, does it?’
Molly frowned. ‘We shouldn’t be talking about him like that. I would hate it if the shoe was on the other foot and he was showing photos of me to his mates and they were saying the same sort of thing.’
‘He probably is,’ Astrid said. ‘You’re stunning.’
Molly’s blush deepened. ‘Stop it, I’m nothing of the sort.’
‘I bet your lodger is thinking he’s landed on his feet,’ Astrid persisted. ‘Rent-free and with a gorgeous woman like you? Has he kissed you yet?’
‘No, he has not! And would you be saying the same sort of thing if he happened to be a woman?’
‘I would if you were gay,’ Astrid countered.
‘You’ve got sex on the brain,’ Molly said sniffily.
‘Not sex, girlie, luurve. It’s about time you found Mr Right.’
‘Jack Feathers is certainly not Mr Right.’ She picked up her bag and headed for the door.
‘If he isn’t, then we’ll have to go out and find him. We haven’t had a proper night out in ages.’
‘We haven’t. I’m a bit tied up this weekend,’ Molly said, ‘but I promise we’ll do it soon and have a good gossip.’
‘It’s a date,’ Astrid called as Molly opened the door and slipped through it. Her friend’s final words, ‘Unless you already have one with Jack,’ followed her outside.
Molly shook her head and rolled her eyes. Astrid was incorrigible, but Molly loved her to the moon and back. She was good fun to work with, and even more fun on a night out, and Molly was looking forward to having a drink and a catch-up. She’d been so busy with the cottage lately, that it would do her good to take some time off. Not this weekend though, because she wanted to break the back of the painting and decorating.
Her head was full of what she had to do as she drove home, and as she approached the park she noted with pleasure that the main gates were already open, which meant that Jack had arrived home before her. True enough, his car was on the driveway, but when she tried the front door and discovered it was locked, she guessed he’d gone out for a run.
Molly took a moment to survey the cottage, marvelling at how much it had changed in just a few weeks. The front garden still needed some serious work, and the recent lovely weather hadn’t helped when it came to the proliferation of weeds, but the picket fence was now in place, and the cottage was beginning to look loved and lived in.
And when she went into the living room, her heart soared. It was no longer the gloomy, grimy room it had once been. The dried-out plaster on the walls was a pale pinky-peach, and the room was flooded with light. The tiled floors still needed some attention, and she would get to that in time, but the squashy sofas lent an air of cosiness, as did the fireplace. It still needed to be swept, but the old wood burner had been treated to a coat of some yucky black stuff that had completely transformed it. It looked almost new, and gleamed blackly in the chimney breast, and she imagined what it would look like on a dark and stormy night, with a fire burning in its depths. For now though, she would have to settle for some fairy lights draped over the top of it, and she made a note to pick some up the next time she was out shopping.
With a spring in her step, Molly went into the kitchen and hung her bag on a peg on the back of the pantry door, feeling so happy she could burst. The only thing missing was her dog. And Jack.
Suddenly the conversation with Astrid popped into her head and Molly had an image of Jack’s lips, his head bent to kiss her.
Back off lady, she told herself. Jack doesn’t need you drooling all over him. And with that she went upstairs to change out of her work clothes, before she began preparing their evening meal.
Wearing an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt covered in paint, and with her hair piled on top of her head in a scruffy bun, she didn’t feel the least bit attractive, so hopefully that would drive any thoughts of Jack kissing her right out of her head.