Chapter 7
7
We returned downstairs and I put the kettle on. I’m British, what can I say? If there was ever a moment for a cup of tea, this was it. A few minutes later, we were both sitting at the small breakfast table I’d put in the corner of the room near another draughty window so that I could read with my breakfast, two large bone-china mugs in front of us.
‘I’ve called in some help. They’ll be up shortly with some equipment to remove the tree and cover up the gap and make the house as weatherproof as possible.’
‘Thank you so much. I do appreciate all your help. Please send the bill to me, won’t you?’
Jesse shook his head. ‘There won’t be a bill. A few people owe me some favours.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders then took a sip of tea.
‘Yes, but they don’t owe me the favours, which means they, and you, need paying for the time you’re spending here.’
Jesse took another sip of tea, placed it carefully down on the table and turned towards me.
‘Felicity.’
‘Jesse.’
‘The fact that you’re in a house that wasn’t up to standard is down to a member of my family?—’
‘But not you.’
‘No. Not me. But in my eyes, that is just semantics.’
‘But not in mine,’ I replied, drawing myself up. ‘Which means if you do work, I pay you.’
‘And if you insist on paying me, I won’t be here at all.’
‘What?’ My voice pitched up in panic, much to my annoyance. I cleared my throat.
‘If you insist on trying to pay me for something I feel duty-bound to fix, I won’t come at all.’ He lifted the mug to his mouth, his eyes remaining fixed on mine.
‘Fine! Then I’ll just hire the people myself.’ I crossed my arms, feeling pleased with myself.
‘And I will tell them if they take up any offers of work from you, there won’t be any more work from me.’
My eyes widened. ‘You… you can’t do that! You wouldn’t!’
One dark brow quirked. ‘Watch me.’
For a beat, we both stared at one another, neither blinking, neither wanting to back down.
‘Ugh!’ I allowed myself to slump for a moment. Nanny would have been horrified.
‘Do we have a deal?’
‘What sort of person doesn’t want to be paid for work?’
‘What sort of person lets a friend buy a house when they’re clearly drunk?’
I swallowed and looked away.
‘Seriously? Did this ex not question your decision at any point or was he just focused on the bottom line and the hefty commission he was obviously going to earn on a swanky flat in London?’
‘How did you know I sold a swanky London apartment?’
‘The village is a small place. People talk and others listen. Word gets around.’
I squinted at him.
‘There’s something else. Tell me.’
‘You’re very demanding, anyone ever tell you that?’
‘Once or twice.’ That made him smile but he looked away to hide it.
‘I can see you smirking and I wasn’t referring to where your mind has clearly taken itself.’
OK, there were a few times there too but sometimes, you have to jiffy things along a bit, don’t you?
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Jesse replied, in control of his features now.
‘Liar. Anyway, tell me whatever it is you’re hiding. Believe me, I can take it, and I’ll find out anyway.’ I folded my arms across my chest. ‘As you said, it’s a small place and people talk.’
He shook his head. ‘I knew you were going to be trouble when you clocked me with that two-by-four the first day I met you.’
‘I apologised for that,’ I replied, glancing at his brow where the cut was now healed over but still obvious.
‘You did, and I forgave you. But the point remains. You’re trouble.’
I stayed silent and waited, fixing him with a laser-like stare. Jesse blew out a sigh, reached into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out. Laying it on the table, he pressed a couple of times on the screen then scrolled around a bit before bringing up an email and pushing the phone across to me. I looked up at him.
‘You asked,’ he said.
Jesse
The sale on the cottage has gone through this morning. Some London broker had a woman paying cash. He’d just done a sale on her flat and wanted it all pushed through quickly. Said she might sober up before it completed otherwise! Apparently it was some ex-girlfriend of his. Obviously no love lost there if he was willing to screw her over like that. Another idiotic Londoner wanting the idyllic country life with all the amenities of London! She’s in for a shock in more ways than one. All cash and no surveys needed. Lucky me!
Anyway. Just thought I’d let you know I’m off abroad now everything’s signed and completed. Not sure when I’ll be back. Or if.
Joe
I returned his phone, my stomach tight.
‘I’m guessing it wasn’t a good break-up.’
I swallowed, which was harder than it should be, but then usually, I didn’t have a massive lump in my throat.
‘Actually, it was a perfectly civil one. Paul would screw over his own mother if it meant he made a killing on a property.’
‘Sounds a real catch. I’m amazed you didn’t hold onto him.’
I let out a hollow huff of laughter.
Jesse sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry you had to see that but I got the feeling you weren’t going to give up until I told you.’ He gave me a look and I gave a brief lift of my eyebrows, signalling that he’d had it right. ‘For what it’s worth, I apologise for the part my family has played in all this. Had I known…’
‘You didn’t and that’s it. I’m here now so the only thing is to make the best of it,’ I said, looking out of the window.
‘Don’t sound too thrilled about it.’
I turned to reply, my tone preset to ‘sharp’, but I stopped, seeing the grin on Jesse’s face. He watched me, clearly prepared for a barrage but, just as he had surprised me, I then surprised myself as a laugh snuck its way up and through my usual defences. With my life in tatters, silence from my so-called friends and being the not so proud owner of the ironically named ‘Paradise Farm’, a place that most estate agents would describe as ‘perfect for a new owner to put their own stamp on’, plus the addition of its very own integral tree, laughter was the last thing on my mind. But for the first time in what felt like a very long while, a full, genuine belly laugh burst forth and, if I was honest, it felt great!
‘I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you really laugh,’ Jesse noted, still smiling.
‘Looking at the state of things, I have no idea why I’m laughing now. I’m pretty sure my mind was having a toss-up between that and hysteria.’
‘I’m glad it chose the right one.’
‘I’m not so sure it did.’
‘I am. Everything is fixable.’
‘Is it?’ I batted back, half in jest but, as I did, a shadow flitted across his face.
‘Almost everything.’ Before either of us could say anything else, his phone burst into life with a jazzed-up version of ‘Moonlight Sonata’ by Beethoven. Had I heard this in town on a night out, I knew for a fact that my friends would have subtly sneered and, with an uncomfortable flush, I suspected I’d have joined them. But actually it sounded pretty cool.
‘Frank, thanks for calling me back.’ He paused for a few moments. ‘Yeah, I know. She’s fine, thank God.’ Another pause. ‘That’d be great. OK. See you soon.’ Jesse hung up and turned back towards me. ‘Frank will be here shortly to get the tree removed.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘What happens after that? Who do I need to contact?’
‘It’s all in hand.’
‘You really don’t need to do all this. If you can just let me know the names of some tradespeople you recommend, I can take over. I’m sure you have plenty of things you ought to be doing instead of flitting around solving my problems.’
His laugh was warm, rich and deep and my own lips tipped up into a smile without asking permission.
‘Do I look like a flitter?’
He had a point. Built like the brick outbuilding in the garden, Jesse Woods was definitely not the most obvious type to associate with the word.
‘Point taken. But you know what I mean.’
He turned towards me, arms folded across his chest. ‘You’re really not good at accepting help, are you?’
‘I’ve always found it better to do things myself. That way, there’s no one to let you down.’
‘Bit of a cynical view.’
‘Merely a realistic one.’
He studied me and I turned away, back to face the garden. For some reason, when Jesse looked at me, it felt as if he could see deep into my soul and that was somewhere I didn’t want anyone to see, and certainly not this man.
‘So what did you do, back in London?’
I was grateful for the change in subject and felt a layer of defence drop as I stepped back onto firmer conversational ground.
‘I was an interiors stylist and house stager.’
‘Is that how you met the estate agent with the impeccable ethics?’
I gave him a look.
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
I stayed silent.
‘So what are you going to do now?’
Good question .
‘I… haven’t exactly decided.’
‘Bit of a sudden decision, was it, then, moving here?’
I had no intention of discussing my decisions and motives with him. Back in my London life, he wasn’t someone I’d have looked twice at. Well, OK, yes, I would have looked twice. Maybe three times. But he wasn’t my type. I was used to men who had a skin-care regime, wore Savile Row three-piece suits and watches one bought as investment pieces, and drove sleek, expensive cars. I’d never seen Jesse in anything other than beaten-up Levi’s and he drove a pick-up. When I’d paid three thousand pounds for a dress, that was not the vehicle I would expect to be picked up in.
Not that there was likely to be any reason to dig out those clothes any time soon, or indeed be picked up by any man, let alone this one. I was done with men. My fiancé had dumped me, and another ex, with whom I was supposedly friends, had sold me out to land me with this potential money pit. I’d had issues with trust since I was a teenager and no one I met had seemed to do anything to dispel them. Until now.
But this man, who didn’t know me from Adam, had come out in the middle of a raging storm to check on me and was calling in favours to make my home watertight and habitable because he felt bad that his cousin had sold me a lemon. It wasn’t his responsibility. There was nothing in it for him and yet he continued to help. It was an uncommon situation to me and I was still getting used to it.
‘You could say that,’ I replied.
‘That sounds like a story.’
‘Not a very interesting one, I’m afraid.’
He quirked a dark brow at me, hinting at disagreement.
‘I assume it’s safe to be in here?’ I asked suddenly. ‘I mean, it’s structurally sound and everything?’
‘Do you think I’d have let you stay in here, let alone stay in here myself, if it wasn’t?’ The smile morphed into a frown and he studied me. I shifted my weight under the intense gaze.
‘No. I suppose not.’
‘I wouldn’t. But we need to get it checked by an expert.’ And the strange thing was, I believed him. This man I hardly knew had something about him that told me his word meant something. Then I gave myself a mental kick. I was being fanciful. He just had one of those kinds of faces. One of those kinds of bodies…
I turned away again as his phone beeped with a message.
‘Some more of the blokes are on their way.’
‘More? For what?’
‘That bedroom is going to need stripping out. I’m hoping there wasn’t anything valuable in there, but if there was, I know a good furniture restorer who’d be able to take a look at it.’
‘Is there anyone you don’t know?’ I asked, half smiling.
His wide shoulders gave a shrug.
‘Should I go and start clearing some stuff out of there, then?’ I took a step towards the stairs, but Jesse caught my wrist, the slightly calloused hand strong but gentle on my skin.
‘Wait.’ He looked down and met my eyes. ‘Please. I want to get that tree moved and check that it’s all secure first before you spend any time in there. Just to be safe.’
‘We were up there this morning.’ I frowned.
‘And I was ready to move extremely quickly if I needed to, taking you with me.’
‘Is that right?’ I asked, putting my free hand on my hip. It didn’t quite have the full effect, bearing in mind his hand still circled my other wrist, but, for some reason, I wasn’t quite ready to shake that off just yet.
‘Yep.’
‘You seem very sure I’d have obeyed you.’
A smile lifted his dark features. ‘Even from the little time I’ve spent with you, I already know you’re not a pushover so, no, I don’t necessarily think you would obey me, or anyone. But you’re little so slinging you over my shoulder in an emergency wouldn’t be an issue.’
This time, I did shake his hand off. ‘I’m not a sack of potatoes!’
‘That wasn’t what I was implying. All I meant was that, in some cases, there’s little time for niceties and, other times, I’d be more interested in getting you out of danger than following the laws of etiquette.’
‘Right. Well. Luckily, that wasn’t needed.’ I stepped away and put a little more space between us. It had been an eventful night, an eventful few weeks, and that was the only possible reason my heart was currently doing the rumba. Absolutely nothing to do with the thought of Jesse Woods wrapping his arms around me, protecting me. I gave myself a mental kick and told my heart to stop being so stupid. Those things happened in romance books and films. Not in real life. In real life, people looked after number one.
‘How are you doing?’ His deep voice wound itself around me, warm and solid, just as he’d felt last night as we got out of the damaged house, the storm howling around us.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, keeping my face away from him as I blinked away the tears that threatened to form in my eyes. Weaknesses were not to be shown. Weakness was what people looked for, what they used against you, however well you thought you knew them. It was only by being strong you survived. ‘And just for reference,’ I said, turning back towards him, my chin tilted up just enough, ‘should there have been an incident, I can run just as fast as you. I don’t need to be saved like some heroine in an old fairy tale.’
He waited a beat, the silence hanging between us before he replied with a single word.
‘Noted.’ His eyes remained on me but his expression was unreadable.
‘Good,’ I said, needing to break the moment. ‘Are these your men?’ I asked, going up on tiptoe to see a small fleet of vehicles approaching the house down the rutted driveway – yet something else that needed attention.
‘Nope.’
I glanced up.
‘But they’re here for this job.’
‘What?’ I asked, catching his arm as he turned away. It was like trying to move a glacial boulder. I scooted round in front of him and he tilted his head down as if to see what gnat was bothering him.
‘I don’t know what it’s like where you were before, but here we don’t act like we own anyone. We’ve moved on from playing lord of the manor.’
His phrasing hit a nerve and I pulled my hand back as if burned.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes!’ I snapped. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’
‘True. And I get the feeling you like things that way.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means it feels as if you don’t like people knowing you too well.’
‘I’m private. There’s nothing wrong with that, or is that illegal in these parts?’
‘No. But if you’re planning to stay, you might want to consider being a little bit less—’ He bit off the rest of the sentence.
‘Less what?’ I prompted him.
‘It doesn’t matter. I need to go and see the blokes and make a plan.’ He took a step to the side to go around me and I matched it. ‘Felicity…’
‘I’m waiting for an answer.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does to me. I like to know where I stand with people.’
‘Right now, you’re standing in my way.’
‘And I have no intention of moving until you finish your sentence.’
The idea that I was holding Jesse up was laughable. As he’d already pointed out, he could in fact have swung me over his shoulder with very little effort. For a moment, I’d lowered my guard but now it was securely back in place. I had a pretty good idea what the man actually thought about me, but I wanted him to have the balls to actually say it.
He gave a heartfelt sigh.
‘Jesse? You there, mate?’ A call came from outside.
He looked down at me. I raised a brow and stayed in place.
‘Reserved. OK? A bit less reserved.’
‘Is that a polite way of saying stuck up?’
His brows quickly drew together. ‘No.’ And with that, he stepped around me before I could block him again and pulled open the front door.
‘Frank.’ I heard him greet the other man. ‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’
I shook off my surprise and hurried to the front door to follow Jesse out.
‘Hello.’ I raised a hand in greeting, suddenly feeling very much the outsider as I took in the faces of several men who had all been looking up at my roof. ‘I’m Felicity. Thank you all for coming.’
‘No problem. Jesse’s always doing stuff for other people and it’s rare he ever calls in his favours so our pleasure, love.’
Jesse was squinting at the roof and determinedly not joining in the conversation or looking at me.
‘I’m Frank.’ The man stepped forward, holding out a meaty hand, which I shook. ‘Sorry. Probably not supposed to call people “love” these days. Old habits die hard.’
‘It’s fine.’ I waved it away. And it was. Let’s face it, I’d been called far worse than that in my time.
He smiled and began introducing me to the other men.
‘Not the greatest welcome to the area, was it?’ one of the men said, indicating the rogue tree with a side tilt of his head. ‘Hope it’s not put you off us?’ he added with a wide, cheeky smile.
His mate gave him a shove. ‘Ignore Romeo here. Thinks he’s God’s gift to women, he does. But we’re glad you’re all right.’
‘Thank you. Me too, although I think that most of the credit goes to Jesse.’
Jesse shook his head. ‘Not at all.’ My words were instantly dismissed. ‘Right, shall we get on with this, then?’
‘Would anyone like a coffee or tea first?’ I asked, standing my ground against Jesse, his words about being reserved still floating around in my mind.
A series of positive replies followed and I mentally took a note of the orders and headed back into the kitchen to make the drinks. Digging about in the cupboards, I found a packet of unopened Hobnobs and placed some on a plate before loading the lot onto a tray and heading back outside.
‘Ooh lovely, thanks, Felicity.’ The man they’d called Romeo lingered as he took the penultimate drink. ‘No biscuits for me.’ He patted what looked like an already flat set of abs. ‘Gym night tonight.’
A groan went around the group.
Jesse stepped closer and took the last drink, and, with a glance at Romeo, took two biscuits. ‘I’ll have yours, then.’ From the brief flash of stomach I’d seen when I’d knocked the man on his arse with a plank of wood, Jesse was not someone who needed to worry about calories. Lucky bugger.
‘What’s the verdict, then?’
‘You’ve got a bloody great tree house, love.’
‘Shut up, Nobby,’ Frank called before turning back towards me. ‘You can see why we call him Nobby.’ He rolled his eyes and I laughed, in turn causing the older man to smile. This type of banter was new to me. In my world, comments were made but one could never be entirely sure that there wasn’t an element of underlying truth, a barely concealed dig veiled with a fake smile. But this was different and I liked it. I thought again back to my old life and what the people I’d once called friends would think now as I stood here sharing refreshments I’d prepared myself with a collection of tradesmen. I could almost picture their horrified faces, which made me smile even more. I hid it behind the mug as I took another sip.
‘First things first, check for any other obvious damage. Jesse’s done a recce already, that right?’
Jesse nodded.
‘Then once we’re sure there’s no extra risk, we’ll get that tree lifted, get some measurements taken and materials ordered, as well as covering the hole with a tarp and?—’
‘A what?’ I asked.
‘Tarp. Tarpaulin.’ He pointed to something large and blue on the ground nearby before continuing. ‘That’ll keep the roof protected from any more weather. From what Jesse’s said, it sounds like the room’s going to need to be gutted.’
‘Yes, so he said this morning. Naturally, seeing that it was the only room that was closest to being finished.’
Frank screwed up his nose. ‘Yeah, I heard you got stuffed a bit with the sale. Sorry about that, love. The owner wasn’t using local people, so none of us knew what it was like inside and could only go on the photos online. Sounds like old Joe used a bit of poetic licence on those. I take it you didn’t view it beforehand, then?’
‘We’d probably better get on,’ Jesse said, taking a step closer.
‘No, I didn’t,’ I replied to Frank, sharing a momentary glance with Jesse to thank him for his attempt at diverting the conversation. ‘Not my finest decision but there we are. It’s certainly been a lively introduction to living in the countryside, that’s for sure.’
Now who’s being reserved?
Frank gave my shoulder a brief pat. ‘You’ve got a good attitude there, Felicity. When it comes down to it, the important thing is that you’re here at all.’ He eyed the sharp spikes of the trunk where the tree had snapped and fallen. ‘Things could have been a lot worse.’
All eyes looked up.
‘That’s very true. So, is there anything I need to do? Any way I can help?’
‘Nope. All under control here, isn’t that right, Jesse?’ Frank looked across.
‘Frank’s right. There’s nothing you can do here right now.’
‘OK.’ Suddenly, I felt useless. No longer part of this little band as I had been moments ago, but then that was ridiculous too. They probably hadn’t thought I was part of anything. More likely the dopey posh girl who’d bought a house in the middle of nowhere without even going to see it first. Maybe they thought I deserved everything I was getting. Certainly, some of my acquaintances – calling them friends any longer seemed pointless – had encountered difficulties in some places with their second – or third, or occasionally fourth – homes, where the locals had been far less friendly than I’d so far experienced. But then some of their own manners, I realised now, left a lot to be desired so perhaps there was more to their stories of ‘ghastly locals’ than I’d been led to believe.
Then Jesse’s arm was around my shoulders, giving the briefest squeeze.
‘Don’t look so worried. We’ll get it sorted.’
I looked up, met the concerned face and smiled. ‘Thank you,’ I replied, my voice, to my horror, breaking on the second word, tears threatening in my eyes. What was wrong with me? I didn’t cry. I kept emotions in general to a minimum if I could. That had been my modus operandi for more years than I cared to remember. It kept a carapace around me. It didn’t necessarily protect me from hurt but it did stop others seeing that hurt, which was the next best thing. But since I’d got to this most ironically named Paradise Farm, everything was changing and I seemed to have little say in the matter.