Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The swan started to come around and Bets and Jack stepped a good distance back, having asked Peter and Bob to leave. Neither demurred; both were so wet and cold, they were keen to get home. After a wobble and a near collapse, on its second attempt the bird staggered to its feet.
The rain had soaked through Bets’ light, waterproof jacket and she could feel the wet fabric of her underwear plastered to her skin. Her socks were soggy and squelchy beneath her toes and she couldn’t stop shivering, the cold chilling her to the very bone.
After five minutes, the bird stopped swaying and took a few steadier steps forward.
Bets exchanged a hopeful look with Jack, knowing that neither he nor she would leave until they were satisfied that the swan was going to be all right. It glared at them, elongating its neck with a warning hiss.
‘Don’t think she appreciates we helped her,’ murmured Bets.
‘Would you? She probably feels like she’s been on a three-day bender.’
She giggled quietly. ‘Do swans go on benders?’
‘All the time. Haven’t you heard of a pen do?’
Bets laughed again and watched the swan eying them warily.
It took a little longer and then, as if all the jigsaw pieces had slotted back into place, the bird lifted its neck, gave them an imperious look and then began an ungainly run, beating its wings.
It covered twenty metres before it began to take flight and climb into the air.
At last it was airborne and it wheeled overhead, the great wings flapping with a whomping sound as it soared out over the water to the distant reeds where no doubt its nest was hidden.
In silence they watched until it disappeared from view.
‘Phew!’ said Jack. ‘Never a quiet day.’ But there was a look of satisfaction on his face.
‘And we wouldn’t want it,’ Bets said.
He turned to her with a smile that lit up his lovely blue eyes. They exchanged one of those moments of pure accord. He loved animals as much as she did; that was a bond they’d always share.
‘No, we wouldn’t. You did a great job.’
With a shrug she brushed off his comment. All she’d done was her job, hardly anything special.
Don’t ever doubt yourself,’ he said, surprising her with his sudden fierceness. ‘I hate it when you do that.’
She lifted her eyes to his, surprised by his vehemence. ‘I … I…’
‘You never accept any praise. Always brush it away. Always do everything for everyone else.’
She smiled, not at the words but because he sounded so grumpy about it. It was kind of cute and she was about to tease him about it when he lifted a hand to her face and brushed aside the hair flattened to her cheek by the rain.
Her heart tumbled over, like a rag doll falling down stairs.
‘We need to go,’ she said, stepping back hurriedly.
‘Yes,’ he said, his face immediately as blank as a blind coming down at a window to keep out prying eyes. ‘We should get out of these wet clothes. I’ll drop you home.’
By the time he pulled up outside the barns, they were both shivering. Unfortunately, the temperamental heating system in the Landy acted true to form and refused to work. Bets’ hands shook as she tried to open the door, and he hopped out of the driver’s seat and went round to let her out.
She almost fell out of the vehicle. Now that the emergency was over and their job was done, it was as if her system had started to shut down.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. She could hardly hear him over the chattering of her teeth.
‘I w-will b-be,’ she said, unable to stop her jaw moving of its own accord.
‘Come on.’ He led her to the front door.
‘’S open,’ she managed to gasp. He gave her a look. ‘I l-lock it at n-night.’ Shivers racked her body. ‘And I’ve g-g-got a g-guard d-d-dog.’
He hustled her inside, stripped off her soggy waterproof and then knelt to ease off her shoes. She stood like a child, letting him, unable to think past the bone-deep cold.
From her basket in the corner, Tiggy staggered to her feet and stood looking up at them, her head tilted, as if to say, ‘What’s going on?’.
‘Fine guard dog,’ he muttered. ‘Come on, you need to get in the shower.’
She nodded but her fingers were shaking too much to grasp the hem of her blue cotton top. He took her hand and tugged her up the stairs to the bathroom. When the barn had been converted his parents had spent a lot on the plumbing fixtures.
The walk-in shower had plenty of room and a high-pressure bucket head as well as side jets. It was luxurious – one of the things she knew he’d really missed at university. Whenever he’d come back, he’d always taken a long hot shower in here, telling her how wonderful it was.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, remembering his love affair with the shower, and she watched as he abandoned her at the door and went straight over and turned on the water.
Then he came back to her and tugged the blue shirt over her head.
It took all her energy to make a pathetic attempt to push his hands away. ‘I can do it,’ she muttered.
‘Bets, I’m fucking freezing. Just get in the shower. I’ve seen it all before,’ he said and pulled down her trousers, leaving her underwear in situ.
Part of her was grateful that he was bullying her into action.
She had a feeling she might have just huddled in the kitchen before coming up here.
He held a hand under the shower head to check the temperature of the water and then pushed her in.
She tilted her head back, her face in the spray, and sighed. Pure bliss.
After a few seconds she turned around to see Jack standing there. He raised a hand.
‘See you l-later.’ A shiver racked his body and he looked so woebegone in his sodden clothes that suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of him being cold for any longer.
Bets schooled her face into indifference, a cool unemotional mask.
‘Are you coming in? Like you said, you’ve seen it all before. You look frozen.’ She held his gaze. Are you scared of being close to me?
She saw him swallow and felt a pinprick of satisfaction.
His mouth twisted and she watched him come to his decision.
He peeled off his sodden jacket and sweatshirt before shucking down his chinos and stepping into the shower in his black boxers.
She deliberately put her face in the water to avoid looking at his taut, compact body and douse the sudden urge to run a hand over his hip, to trace that interesting fold between torso and thigh.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been that flipping cold,’ she said, shunting to the left of the spray to give him space in the jet of water, hoping that she sounded completely cool about their being here together like this.
‘And the swan didn’t even stop to say thank you.
’ She injected outrage into her words to keep things light, and it worked.
Jack laughed and said, ‘Talk about ingratitude. Shall I send her a bill?’
‘She has one already. Ba-boom.’ It was an old joke but sometimes falling back on nonsense like that was exactly what was needed when you were showering with your ex-lover.
The phrase made her muscles tense. She’d never thought of Jack as her ‘lover’ before – that term implied maturity and sophistication, not words she’d ever applied to them.
Desperate to avoid falling down a rabbit hole of self-reflection, she asked, ‘Do you think it will be all right?’ She chanced a look at him. A mistake.
‘We’ve done our best.’ He smiled at her and her heart did another one of those stupid shivery things.
The kindness in his eyes reminded her of the Jack she’d once fallen in love with.
‘That’s all we can do. It would have been far more traumatic for the swan if we’d taken it back to the practice.
It wasn’t that badly hurt. It should heal, providing infection doesn’t get in.
I’m afraid sometimes we have to let nature take its course.
’ Although she wanted to, she didn’t take the mickey out of his mansplaining, telling her what she already knew.
She had a feeling that he, like her, was trying to keep things normal.
‘Fingers crossed she’ll be all right,’ he added.
She nodded. He was right, but even so, she knew he would be haunting the reservoir for the next few days, keeping an eye out for the swan.
Gradually, the heat began to penetrate and spread through her body, thank heavens.
It was bliss to be warm again but at the same time she felt a blooming awareness of Jack’s body next to hers.
So close. She swallowed. Suddenly it was all she could think about.
Damn, this was a bad idea. The last thing she wanted was him thinking she was throwing herself at him.
Oh, the humiliation. This was a really bad idea. She needed to get out of here. Now.
Trying to appear unmoved, she turned to retreat at the same moment as he turned and her arm brushed his thigh. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, and, stepping away smartly, she slipped. Going down onto one knee, she reached out, grabbed him to keep her balance and virtually buried her face in his crotch.
Oh bums, she wanted to die. How did things like this happen to her?
He hauled her up back to her feet. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ she said, feeling the blush burning her face, looking down at her feet.
An even bigger mistake, because now she was looking at his flat stomach and the line of dark blond hair arrowing down beneath the snug waistband of his boxers.
Heat spread through her and it wasn’t just embarrassment this time.
His hands rested loosely on her waist and she forced herself to look up and meet his gaze.
‘It was an accident,’ he said softly but there was no mistaking the flare of warmth in his eyes. They stared at each other and she was conscious of the soft brush of his fingers, very gently caressing the skin on her hip, the barely-there touch setting her nerve endings dancing.
‘You know you’re amazing,’ he whispered.
‘What?’ she asked, bemused, wondering what he was talking about.