Chapter 20
Molly stared at the three people standing in front of the bandstand the following Monday evening and disappointment swept through her. She had been hoping for a better turn-out, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, even if one of those people was Bill and he was only there out of curiosity. The second was a middle-aged lady with wiry grey hair and a slash of pink lipstick on her mouth. She was clutching a canvas bag-for-life to her chest, and her eyes darted nervously from Molly to Jack and back again.
The third was a guy aged about thirty, with tanned skin and bright brown eyes. He had heavy work boots on his feet and the sort of trousers hikers wore, with lots of pockets. He also had a bag with him, a well-worn rucksack on the ground between his feet.
‘Er… hello,’ she began, conscious of a tick beneath her right eye and hoping it wasn’t obvious. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘Where’s the band?’ the woman piped up.
‘What band?’ Molly sent Jack a confused look, and Jack shrugged and made a face.
‘The one that’s supposed to be here,’ the woman said.
‘There isn’t any band.’ Molly frowned.
‘There is! It said so on the leaflet. I’ve got it right here, so don’t try to deny it.’ The woman delved into her bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. ‘See?’ She jabbed at it with a finger.
‘Sorry,’ Molly said, realising where the woman’s confusion had arisen from. ‘It says to meet at the bandstand, not that there will be a band.’
The woman huffed out a cross sigh. ‘You’ve got us here under false pretences. I ought to sue you for wasting my time.’
‘You’re as daft as a box of frogs, Fiona. Read what it says!’ Bill rolled his eyes and tutted.
‘And you are a miserable old git,’ the woman retorted. ‘I thought a band was too good to be true. This park is a disgrace.’
Molly watched her stalk away and took a deep breath. It looked like she was left with one potential volunteer to help tidy up the park: hardly the army of helpers she had been hoping for when she’d put up those fliers around the town. Maybe she had been a bit hasty and should have given it more time, but after the vandalism of the other night she’d wanted to strike whilst the iron was hot, so had printed out several requests for volunteers the very next morning. Maybe if she had arranged the meeting for a week or two later, the call for volunteers would have garnered more interest? After all, this wasn’t going to be a one-off thing – it would be a regular occurrence because it would take more than an afternoon to make any impact.
‘I’d better be off,’ Bill said. ‘I only came to see how many bothered to turn up.’ He shook his head as though he hadn’t expected any more than this, and tugged on his dog’s lead. ‘Come on, Patch. I thought it would be a waste of time and I’m right. Talking about a waste of time, this lot no doubt want their bandstand back.’ He jerked his head at a group of teenagers making their way towards them.
‘Yeah, shove off, grandad,’ one of them shouted at Bill’s retreating back.
Bill stuck a middle finger in the air but didn’t turn around.
Molly had been studiously ignoring the youngsters who were lingering on the path several metres away, because she guessed they weren’t here to volunteer for anything.
That left the guy with the rucksack. Feeling self-conscious Molly stepped down from the dilapidated bandstand and walked over to him.
‘Hi, I’m Molly and this is Jack. Don’t tell me you were expecting live music, too?’
‘Absolutely not! I’m here for the newts.’
‘Pardon?’ Molly blinked.
‘Great crested newts. I’m also here for the other wildlife, of course.’
‘Newts,’ she repeated, risking another confused look at Jack. He appeared to be as bemused as she, as he pulled an “I’ve no idea what he’s on about” face.
The guy said, ‘This park has got the ideal habitat for them – pond, grassland, woodland. They are a protected species, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t know.’ Molly stared at him, not thinking about newts at all. She was thinking that this guy was seriously good-looking. He had dark hair which was caught up in a bun on the top of his head, and a beard, but it was his eyes that commanded her attention. She’d heard the phrase arresting before, but she hadn’t realised what it had meant until now. They were incredibly intense, and she could feel herself being sucked into their depths.
‘I’m Reuben, by the way.’ He held out a hand and Molly shook it. His grip was firm, his palms rough, and she guessed he worked with his hands.
If Astrid had been here, Molly knew what she’d have said – that he could work on her with his hands any day – and she almost snorted. Wait ’til she told her about him: Astrid would volunteer like a shot.
Despite his good looks and rather fit body, Molly wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest. He was too extravagant for her liking – and anyway, she had Jack.
Or rather, she didn’t have Jack, but she was working on it.
She’d thought he had been about to kiss her the other night after he’d chased the vandals away, but he hadn’t: much to her disappointment. Instead, he had rushed off to lock the park gates, and she’d taken herself back to bed.
A few days later and she was still trying to get close enough to replicate the situation but, as she had explained to Astrid, her attempts at flirting with Jack seemed to go over his head, making her all the more convinced that he wasn’t interested in her romantically.
‘I saw your call for volunteers, so I thought I’d chip in, and I can search for newts at the same time,’ Reuben was saying.
‘So you don’t know for sure that there are newts here?’ Molly asked.
‘There’ll be newts alright. Smooth newts, more usually called common newts because they are… well… common – and there might be palmate newts, although they’re rather less common.’ He laughed at his own joke. ‘As I said, what I’m looking for is the rare great crested newt.’
‘Okaay.’ She honestly didn’t know what to say to that. She needed people to help clear the path through the woods, remove trolleys from the pond, and restore the damaged flower beds. She didn’t need people grubbing about in the mud, looking for weird amphibians. ‘There’s a fox in the park,’ she said. ‘And rabbits. Squirrels, too, and loads of birds.’
‘Anything unusual?’
‘Er, I’m not sure.’ Molly could recognise a few species, such as pigeons, blackbirds and sparrows, but that was about it.
‘No worries. I’ll keep an eye out, and if I see anything of significant interest I’ll report back. Now, what do you want me to do today?’
Ahh, that was better, Molly thought. ‘I was hoping we could start with the flower beds near the main entrance.’
To her surprise, Reuben’s face fell and he said, ‘I don’t do flowerbeds – unless we’re scattering flower bombs or wildflower seed. Most beds are filled with non-native species, and many are useless to bees and butterflies.’
‘Right.’ Oh dear, this wasn’t going so well. ‘How about you tell me where you think you can help?’ Molly suggested.
‘Great idea! Do you want to show me around the park?’
Molly looked at Jack. He hadn’t said much and she wondered what he was thinking.
‘Go ahead,’ he told her with a shrug. ‘I’ll carry on with repairing the damage from the other night.’
They had already done some tidying up, such as sweeping up all the destroyed plants and trying to salvage what little they could, and they had cleared away all the stems, twigs and branches from the decimated shrubs and bushes, but it would take a while before they looked as good as they should.
Jack began walking in the direction of the cottage without saying anything further, leaving Molly perplexed.
‘Partner?’ Reuben asked, when Jack was some distance away.
‘Lodger.’
Reuben’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh, sorry, I assumed—’
‘It’s OK,’ Molly interrupted. ‘I own the former park keeper’s cottage, and Jack is renting a room. For the time being.’ She was all too aware that it wouldn’t be forever.
‘Did I step on any toes?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘He seemed a bit put out. Should I have asked him to show me around?’
‘Because he’s a man and I’m not?’ Molly shot back.
‘Because he… Look, never mind. It’s none of my business. Shall we get started?’
‘Yes, let’s.’ Molly began walking towards the pond and the meadow, feeling irritated. She had no idea why Jack had stalked off, and so far she wasn’t impressed with Reuben, either. The park might be in dire need of all the help it could get, but she could do without a sexist bloke, thank you very much!
***
Jack stomped along the path, his heart thumping, dismay flowing through him, and it wasn’t due to the lack of volunteers. He was disappointed about that, of course, but he was more perturbed about the one who had turned up.
Reuben was everything Jack wasn’t: handsome in a hippy sort of way, outdoorsy, fit, and knowledgeable about nature. The man was also willing to get stuck in and get his hands dirty. Jack guessed that, for Molly, the combination was a very attractive one.
He could tell she was enamoured. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the guy. And when Reuben had asked to be shown around the park, Molly had sent Jack a look that told him she wanted to do this on her own. He hadn’t wanted to go with them anyway; he didn’t need to watch her simper over this guy any more than he’d witnessed already.
Thank God he hadn’t acted on his impulse to kiss her the other night. He might have got his face slapped. It had been wishful thinking on his part when he’d hoped she was attracted to him. She wasn’t and would never be – Reuben was much more her type.
Even Jet had abandoned him to go with his mistress and this new bloke, trotting behind them without so much as a glance in Jack’s direction.
Savagely Jack picked up a shovel and stabbed it into the soil. The earth had been compacted where it had been trodden on by the yobs the other night, so before he attempted to replant anything he thought it best to loosen the ground and give it a good raking. As he did so, he imagined it was Reuben’s head he was attacking, but it didn’t make him feel any better.
But what was playing on his mind more than Reuben’s good looks was what Molly had said to the man when he had asked her if Jack was her partner. Her brief and succinct reply had cut him to the quick.
Lodger.
That was all he was to her – the guy who rented a room in her house.
He hadn’t been able to hear anything else because by then he’d taken a few more steps and was out of earshot, but at that point he hadn’t wanted to hear any more anyway. He had heard enough.
Jack felt like kicking himself. He had honestly thought she was starting to consider him more of a friend than a lodger, and he’d even managed to convince himself she was developing feelings for him.
He must have imagined the lingering looks, the brush of her hand, and the way she peeped up at him from under her lashes. If he’d have Googled how can I tell if a woman fancies me? Jack was fairly sure those things would be on the list. She also giggled at his jokes (not many people did) and played with her hair a lot when she was talking to him.
But did all those things add up to her fancying him?
Evidently not. Not after the way she had gone all gooey-eyed and tongue-tied the second she’d set eyes on Reuben.
Jack couldn’t believe he had got it so wrong.
Or maybe he could – he’d got it wrong with Chantelle too. Except in a different way: he hadn’t realised Chantelle was so into him.
It was obvious that he was hopeless when it came to reading women.
Even so, he could read Reuben well enough. The guy hadn’t wasted a second on checking whether Molly was single. And she had made it clear to the man that she was.
Jack dug the spade into the ground and leant on the handle.
As far as he could tell, he had two options – he could fight for her, or he could withdraw gracefully.
Maybe if Jack had kissed her, he could have made a case for fighting for her. But he hadn’t, and he had a feeling it was too late now. It would seem a bit weird that he hadn’t shown her how he felt up to now, and yet was suddenly declaring his undying love as soon as a rival appeared on the scene.
He could hardly—
Wait a minute… He loved her?
Surely not? He couldn’t be in love and not realise it, could he? That kind of thing only happened in the movies.
But if it wasn’t love he was feeling, what was it? Desire, certainly, that went without saying, but his feelings ran much deeper than wanting to jump into bed with her. And he didn’t want to jump: he wanted to make love to her. Long, slow, meaningful love, where he gave her everything he had, body, heart and soul.
Flippin’ heck! He was in love!
How the hell had that happened? And when? There must have been a time when he was on the cusp between friendship and love, so how hadn’t he noticed that his feelings for her had deepened to the point of no return? And why hadn’t he become aware of this before Rampant Reuben had shown up?
Great, wonderful, brilliant, he thought sarcastically, shaking his head at his stupidity. And what was worse was the sight of Molly and Reuben sauntering past the children’s play area, so close that they might as well have had their arms wrapped around one another, smiling fit to burst, and quite evidently very happy in one another’s company.
His eyes narrowed when they halted and Reuben showed her something on his phone. Their heads were practically touching as they huddled even closer to stare at the screen. All that was needed was for one of them to turn their head a fraction and they would be kissing.
Stifling a groan of despair, he left the shovel where it was and dashed towards the cottage. He would have a quick shower and go to the pub. He could hide there and drown his sorrows at the same time.
***
The most natural thing in the world would be to tell Jack about Reuben’s hope that there might be rare great crested newts living in the park, but Molly didn’t want to jinx anything. If it was confirmed, he would be the first to know – after Reuben and herself, of course.
Reuben told her that finding a newt could be a bargaining chip to help twist the council’s arm and persuade them to do a better job of maintaining the park, and this was another reason for not sharing the news with Jack; she didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.
On his tour of the park, Reuben had shown her a whole load of things that she hadn’t noticed previously – insects and plants, mostly – and she had quickly revised her initial opinion of him. He was knowledgeable about wildlife and conservation, and although that wasn’t her main reason for wanting to restore the park, the longer she lived here, the more invested in its various inhabitants she was becoming.
Molly loved that Reuben shared her view of keeping the pond and meadow wild – although how she was going to do that, having no experience of pond or meadow management, was beyond her – opening up paths through the woodland for everyone to enjoy. Reuben was keen to get started on that as soon as possible, and he had mentioned something about using a machete, but Molly hadn’t wanted to enquire too closely. How he cleared it was up to him, and she trusted him to do it properly.
He told her he would start first thing in the morning, and she could only admire his dedication and wonder what he did for a living, considering tomorrow was Tuesday and she and Jack would be at work. When she’d advised Reuben of this, he’d shrugged and told her he would bring whatever he needed with him, plus food and water, so she needn’t worry as he was used to roughing it.
None the wiser, she’d said goodbye and went to find Jack. She could have sworn she had seen him digging over one of the trampled flower beds, but he wasn’t there now.
‘Jack?’ she called as she barrelled through the front door, Jet at her heels.
The dog barged past her and bolted up the stairs, so she guessed Jack must be up there.
‘Jack?’ she called again, trotting up the stairs after Jet. Even without the newt news, she had so much to tell him, and she had a feeling Reuben was going to be invaluable. He could concentrate on the woodland and the area around the pond, leaving her and Jack to tend to the more manicured parts of the park. Not that they were manicured at the moment, but they could be, given time and effort. And a lack of vandals.
So far, locking the gates at night was proving to be a success. Bill had informed her that he had heard a few people complaining, but he’d told them it was their own fault for not being more respectful, and the council were only doing what they had a right to do. Molly had bitten her lip and thought it best not to enlighten Bill. If he assumed the council were behind the gate closures, then so be it. In a way, it was – but only in so far as the man who locked them every night and unlocked them every morning happened to work for the council. She’d wondered whether Jack was exceeding his authority, and she hoped he knew what he was doing.
She found Jet on the landing, staring expectantly at Jack’s closed bedroom door.
‘Jack? Are you in there?’
‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ he called back, and Molly debated whether to wait for him here or to go downstairs.
She opted for the kitchen and had just put the kettle on when he appeared.
Molly did a double take. She was used to seeing him in either a suit and tie, or scruffy gardening clothes, but this evening he was dressed in a smart pair of chinos and a pale green linen shirt.
He looked gorgeous and she almost drooled when he casually rolled the sleeves up to reveal his strong forearms.
Oh, my…
‘Tea?’ she managed to force out, her voice squeaky. She felt very unkempt and dishevelled: her hair was in a hasty ponytail, her face was makeup free, and her jogging bottoms were baggy and had grass stains on them.
‘Not for me, thanks. I’m going out.’
‘Oh?’ It came out even squeakier, and she cleared her throat. ‘Somewhere nice?’ God, she sounded like her mum.
‘Just the pub. Did you want me for anything in particular?’
‘Er, to give you an update on Reuben. He says—’
‘Can it wait? I’m already late.’
‘Oh, yeah, sure. No worries.’
‘OK. Bye, then.’ And with that he was gone, leaving Molly feeling strangely bereft and more than a little confused.
He hadn’t mentioned he was going out. Before the disastrous meeting earlier, they had discussed showing the volunteers what needed to be done – that was when they’d assumed they’d have a few volunteers to show. But now, just an hour later, Jack had gone out.
Molly couldn’t help wondering who he was meeting.
He’d looked scrumptious and he’d smelt divine. His aftershave lingered in the air, taunting her. It wasn’t one she remembered him wearing before, and she wondered whether it was new, and who he was wearing it for.
Feeling abandoned and rejected – which was ridiculous considering he was only her lodger and they weren’t supposed to be living in each other’s pockets, she phoned Astrid.
‘It’s not like him to go out,’ Molly concluded after she’d told her friend about his abrupt departure and strangely distant attitude.
‘Do you think he’s on a date?’ Astrid was crunching loudly.
‘What are you eating?’
‘Salt and vinegar crisps. I’ve got a glass of pop, too, and I’m feeling very guilty. The kids are in bed, and because I don’t allow them to eat this crap, if I want to indulge I have to do it in secret.’
‘Oh, right. Enjoy.’ Molly considered the question. ‘I’m not sure. He didn’t say anything earlier, so if he is, it’s sudden.’
‘Maybe he didn’t think it was any of your business?’
‘Ouch.’
‘Well, it isn’t, is it? Not unless you’ve managed to snog his socks off – and then maybe it would be.’
‘We’ve not kissed,’ Molly sighed. ‘He’s either dumb, or not interested.’
‘What’s your gut feeling?’
‘Not interested.’
‘Yet you don’t think he’s on a date?’
‘Only because it was so sudden,’ Molly repeated. ‘We were supposed to be meeting with the volunteers this evening.’
‘So you were. How did it go?’
‘Not good. Only one person showed up – two if you count a woman who thought there’d be a band on. Don’t ask. The other person is good, though. His name is Reuben and he’s into conservation. He’s getting started on clearing some of the undergrowth in the wood tomorrow. But that’s the reason why I’m pretty sure Jack’s date wasn’t pre-planned.’
‘Unless something came up?’ Astrid suggested. ‘Maybe his ex?’
‘That had crossed my mind, too.’ Molly wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m fairly certain it can’t be anything else. As I said, he hardly goes out – just for a run a couple of times a week. And he goes to work, obviously. So he must be meeting Chantelle. Maybe it’s something to do with the house—?’
Molly froze. There was a niggle at the back of her mind, an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. Something about the name of Jack’s ex… Chantelle wasn’t a common name, but Molly could have sworn she had come across it prior to seeing the name flash up on Jack’s phone. But where…?
Ah ha! She had it, but even as she remembered, her heart sank.
‘Can I call you back?’ she said. ‘I want to check something.’
‘Of course. Take care, sweetie. I’m sure you’re over-thinking it.’
Molly was certain she wasn’t. Because she remembered where she’d seen the name before: the council website. And when she checked the list of employees, Molly knew she was right. Staring back at her was the same perfectly straight blond hair and the same immaculately made-up features, that she had seen on Jack’s phone.
Chantelle also worked for the council. Jack didn’t need to make any special arrangements to see his ex because he worked with her. He could see her any time he bloody well pleased!