Chapter 13
Noah settled himself at the table by the window and tried not to let his gaze wander back to Bella.
She’d given him a lovely, welcoming smile, and it was more than he felt he deserved after their back and forth that morning.
The situation was a bit claustrophobic – he was used to the hustle and bustle of London, where you wouldn’t see the same faces in the pub, or behind the bar, from one week to the next.
He smiled to himself: he’d obviously been living in the city too long.
He needed to get back in touch with the part of him that had loved being in Lower Brambleton, had enjoyed the slower pace of life and the chance to get away from day-to-day pressures.
There was one problem, though: the person who’d made that possible wasn’t around any more.
The sadness was never far away. But it was pointless to dwell on grief. His grandfather wouldn’t have wanted that, and he owed it to Jack to wind up his affairs respectfully and with the minimum of drama. Admittedly, Monty was a complication, but he’d work things out; he always did.
Noah glanced back towards the bar again and saw Bella smiling at the guy who’d come up to order a drink.
He was smiling back at her, and inclining his head forward to speak to her, since the music was still loud, just as Noah had needed to do.
Bella nodded, and then her smile broadened, before she gave the guy a quick hug.
Was he her boyfriend, Noah wondered? They certainly seemed to know each other well.
He felt a bit weird about what he’d observed, as if he’d been looking in on an intimate moment but dismissed that thought as rapidly as it had entered his head.
He turned back to the book he’d brought with him and tried to concentrate on it.
He’d whipped it off his grandfather’s bookshelf in the living room before he’d come to the pub, and as he opened the cover, he was ambushed by another wave of grief: there, written underneath the dedication on the first page, was a brief comment:
I enjoyed this one! Jack Reacher never fails to deliver…
His grandfather, an avid reader, always liked to talk about the books he’d read, and had cherished his collection, which, while not extensive, showed an eclectic taste.
A smattering of classics, a greater number of action-adventure novels and some slim volumes of poetry adorned the shelves in the sitting room.
Noah remembered picking many of them up when he’d stayed in the holidays; his grandfather had encouraged him to read and never minded what he read.
This book, though, Lee Child’s The Midnight Line, he hadn’t read before.
He hoped it might provide a distraction from his stresses, at least for the duration of dinner.
‘Here you go, love, one steak and ale pie and chips. Enjoy!’
The cheery voice of the server broke into Noah’s concentration as, completely engrossed in the opening chapters of the novel, he’d lost track of time.
‘Thanks.’ He gave a brief smile to the server, and then, before he could help himself, he found his eyes drawn back to the bar, where Bella was chatting away to another couple who were sipping drinks.
As if drawn by his glance, she turned her head and smiled back at him.
Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Noah felt the essence of a connection starting to strengthen.
Giving himself a mental shake, he turned his attention back to his dinner and the exploits of Jack Reacher and tried not to glance back to the bar all the time he had those to occupy him.
All around him, the noises of contented punters mingled with the rather louder sound of the musician, until, after about another twenty minutes, both he and the guitarist had finished. Noah sat back in his seat, hunger pleasantly satisfied, and wondered if he had room for a pudding.
‘All done?’ Bella’s voice, from behind him, made him start.
‘Sorry!’ she said quickly. ‘Paddy, the pub landlord, is always telling me I should have trained as a ninja, the amount of customers who seem shocked when I arrive at their tables!’
‘Must be a good skill to have when you’re sneaking up on anxious cats,’ Noah replied, once his heart rate had settled down again.
Bella nodded. ‘Especially when we have to rescue or trap them.’ She shook her wrist in emphasis. The scratch had become visible again when she leaned over to pick up Noah’s plate. ‘Monty’s little swipe is nothing compared to what a frightened and cornered cat can dish out.’
Noah smiled up at her. ‘You must have the patience of a saint.’ Feeling relaxed after his first pint of Moretti, he debated whether or not to have another one.
‘Hurry up, Bella love.’ Jen, the landlady, who’d served Noah his dinner, bustled up to the table. ‘Jason’s asked if you fancied doing an encore with him now he’s finished his set. Are you up for it?’
Bella smiled regretfully and shook her head. ‘Not tonight, Jen. I’ve got a bit of a sore throat.’
Noah caught Jen’s raised eyebrows and wondered if Bella was telling the truth.
‘Well, all right, then, but he’s determined to get you up there one day, you know.’ Jen glanced at Noah. ‘Our Bella here’s got a great set of pipes when she’s brave enough to show them off. The challenge is getting her to do it!’
‘I look forward to hearing her sing at some point, then,’ Noah replied politely. He looked at Bella again. She seemed flustered, and her face had coloured slightly.
‘Don’t hold your breath!’ Bella said. ‘I only sing in the shower, or when I think there’s no one around.’
‘Or in the cellar when we send you down to change a barrel!’ Jen teased. She winked at Noah. ‘That’s how I know she really can sing – I caught her at it when she first started working here. The cellar acoustics made her sound even better!’
‘Oh, give over, Jen,’ Bella muttered. ‘The cellar can make anyone sound good.’
‘Don’t tell that to Paddy or he’ll start yowling down there!’ Jen laughed.
‘As I said, I won’t be singing in public any time soon.’ Bella’s voice radiated effortful patience, and Noah suddenly felt sorry for her. Jen clearly had a bee in her bonnet about getting Bella to sing somewhere other than the cellar.
‘Not if Jason has his way,’ Jen said, before turning in the direction of the kitchen. ‘He’d happily duet with you, any day of the week.’
Bella rolled her eyes. ‘He knows duets, musical or otherwise, are definitely off the table!’
Jen’s voice drifted from over her shoulder as she moved away. ‘Never say never, love.’
Bella shook her head. ‘She’s incorrigible.’
‘And you are clearly a woman of many talents.’ Noah smiled up at her, where she was hovering with his plate in her hand.
‘Cat wrangler, bartender, and now potential pub singer… is there anything else?’ He shook his head to himself; the drink and the atmosphere had obviously calmed him.
It almost sounded like he was trying to chat Bella up.
Bella, for her part, took his enquiry good naturedly, grinning back at him.
‘I’ll leave that for you to find out!’ She left his table, and Noah found his eyes were following her through the kitchen door.
She had long legs, and generous curves, and the jeans she was wearing accentuated both.
The vibrant cherry red of her hair wasn’t quite his thing, but on Bella the colour definitely worked.
He felt a stir of attraction and tried hard to push it to one side.
It had been a while since he’d had a steady partner, and he wasn’t looking.
Definitely not. Besides, it couldn’t lead anywhere.
Bella lived here, and he was based in London, and as soon as his grandfather’s house was sold, he’d have no reason to come back to Lower Brambleton.
Holiday romances weren’t his thing, and neither was long distance.
Christ, he thought, I need to get out more.
Fancying the barmaid of the local pub, when it’s not even my local, screams desperation!
He shook his head and finished the inch of lager that was left in his glass.
He was about to head back to his grandfather’s cottage for the night when his mobile rang.
Glancing at the screen, his heart sank. It was sod’s law that his brother, Marc, would ring just when Noah had started to relax.
Don’t harsh my mellow, he thought wryly, grinning at the phrase that he’d only recently learned from the younger staff in the estate agency.
Sighing, he grabbed his jacket and headed straight out of the pub, hitting the green answer button on his mobile and bracing himself for another difficult conversation.