CHAPTER Three
Nellie
There’s no gymnastics competition this weekend, but we still have to go to the training camp at the local sports hall.
“Come on, Ainsley, or we’re going to be late,” I shout up the stairs while checking the clock on my phone.
“I can’t find my trainers,” she yells back.
“They’re where you left them, right here by the front door.” I look at the shoes in question before rolling my eyes. It takes her a few seconds to materialise. She races downstairs with heavy footsteps. As soon as she reaches the bottom step, she drops to the floor and puts them on. A waft of stale cheese from her lucky socks sickens my stomach, and I cringe. “Don’t you think we should wash the socks? I know you got a silver medal at the last competition, but it wasn’t gold. The fabric is getting thin and you’re wearing them for every class and event. I think we should get rid of the stench and find a new tradition.” We’ve both got a pair of ‘lucky’ socks.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh, wait, I know. Silver could become bronze, or worse… no place.” She gives me a stern look. I guess she doesn’t like my idea.
“Don’t get smart with me.” I playfully push her outside and we make our way to my car.
“Okay, Mum,” she says, laughing, then her eyes widen.
My breath hitches in my throat as we both realise what she said. It wasn’t supposed to be a reminder of what’s missing. She didn’t mean any harm, but she hit a nerve. I’m too young to be her guardian, and the mounting debt is suffocating. We’re getting by rather than living life to the fullest. Ignoring the tug in my heart, I keep my words light-hearted. “People will start avoiding you if you smell bad.”
We climb into the car. Ainsley fidgets with her safety belt, taking her time to secure it into place. “Do you think Mum’s coming back?”
My faux smile falls. “Eventually, she’ll turn up. She always does.”
We fall into silence, both lost in thought. Mum has been gone for an unusually long time. We’ve received no postcards or care packages. It’s like she’s dropped off the face of the Earth. Has she found someone worth leaving us behind for? I push down the unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. The only way to get through this is to be optimistic. She will come back. Everything will be okay.
I turn the key and the car makes a few noises before cutting out. Two attempts later, I cross my fingers and hope for a miracle. We can’t afford to break down. I turn the key one more time. The car breathes to life, and I thank whatever sweet angel is looking down on me.
We make it to gymnastics class just in time. Ainsley joins the girls in the locker room as I lock eyes with Mr Lightwood. He is not who I need to see right now. Hurrying, I slip out of a side door, making a run for the green area outside. He starts to follow, and I pick up pace. Gymnastics is in the local sports hall and, luckily, there are lots of exit points. I’m too busy watching behind me to notice what’s in front of me. As I open the last door to my escape, I come chest-to-chest with a wall of muscle.
The expensive soft cream wool feels so good against my palms. His toned body fills out the jumper perfectly. He is all man. I inhale deeply. Wait. I recognise that rich, woodsy cologne. My gaze drifts up to the brown stubble on his chin and his perfect pink lips. I frown as I meet his dark brown eyes. “Christopher McNabb.”
He’s a good-looking man and I usually push my attraction down. He’s not for me. There’s no point lusting over someone unattainable. He’s a customer at Sweet Cocktails, nothing more.
He matches my frown while he glances over my features. His eyes widen, and he quickly steps back. “Nellie?”
I’m offended by his reaction. There was no reason to jump back like I have a rash or something. “I do have a life outside the bar. What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to sound irritated. Mr Lightwood must have freaked me out more than I’d realised. I need to keep moving. I switch sides with Christopher, gaining more distance from the door.
“I’m a member of the gym and I’m meeting one of my farmer connections at the conference later,” he says.
“Farmer?” He’s always so well dressed. He can’t be a farmer, can he?
“Yes. I do have a job which leads me to drinking on Saturday nights.”
A laugh escapes from my lips. He’s throwing my sass back at me, even though I tried to hide my confusion. Obviously, I didn’t do it well enough. Sweet Cocktails isn’t his whole world just like it isn’t mine. “Sorry. I thought you were too well-groomed to be out in the fields.”
He smiles like he’s amused by my answer. “I’m glad to hear I scrub up well. But these are worker’s hands.” He rubs the hard skin on his palms.
I’ve never noticed the roughness of his hands before. I nod.
I thought he was a stock market guy or something. From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t like to show his real self to his dates. Knowing more about him feels like big news, and he just became a little more interesting. There’s a noise behind him, which makes me panic. I don’t have time to linger.
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” As I move away, the door opens wide, banging against the wall, and Mr Lightwood shouts my name.
“Ms Kendal. I need to speak with you.”
I bat him off with an over-the-top hand gesture while continuing to flee. I get into my car and try to start the ignition, which fails me.
Please, not now. Start, you piece of junk.
A fist taps on the window while I’m still trying to start the car. I don’t want to deal with this right now, yet I have little choice. Pushing the handle, I open the door, allowing the annoyance to spread across my face.
“Look, I’m sorry for wasting your time, but we’re not interested,” I say.
“Don’t you think it’s up to your mum to decide if Ainsley could benefit from my club?” Mr Lightwood asks.
“She would have called if she wanted to.” I shrug, trying not to react. Mum wouldn’t have given him any more than I have. With her missing, I don’t want him to look too closely at us, though.
He points to the business card I left on the dashboard. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’ve mentioned Berry Hill Gymnastics Club.”
“Why is this so important to you? She’s one gymnast. Go find someone else.” That was probably harsh, but I want him to go away.
“Your sister has something rare.”
He’s persistent, that’s for sure. Ainsley’s talented, but so are many of the other girls.
“Why aren’t you talking to Harriet Reynolds’ parents? She was the one who took home gold last weekend.”
“Harriet’s parents are doctors. They intend for her to follow in their footsteps. She doesn’t have the determination to go the distance.”
“Is this guy bothering you, Nel?” Christopher asks, grabbing our attention.
“Mr Lightwood was just leaving.” We both look at the guy in question. He hesitates before reluctantly clearing off. “This isn’t over. I’ll catch you some other time,” he shouts over his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Christopher asks. He places his arm on the top of my car door while he looks down on me.
“I’m having a bad day, and he didn’t help.” I’m relieved Christopher was here to help me get rid of Mr Lightwood, but I’m hoping he won’t poke further into my business.
“At least I’ve helped you with one of your problems.” He leans in toward me, showing his pearly teeth as he smiles.
Usually, I don’t accept help, but while he’s here, I might as well get what I can from him. “Any chance you know anything about cars? Mine’s playing up.” I pat the steering wheel before giving it a rub.
“I can take a look.”
We trade places so he can assess the car. Like a traitor, the engine starts first time. He must have a magic touch. I wonder what else he can do with his working hands.
Woah, I can’t think like that.Christopher doesn’t want more than flings, and he’s a customer in the bar I work in. Lust can only lead to awkwardness, and I need to shut it down.
“Everything seems okay to me.” He turns to face me.
“Hopefully, whatever was wrong has sorted itself. Thanks. I’ll see you tonight with your date.” I smile.
“Maybe.” He waves and starts to walk away.
He’s predictable, so I doubt he’ll go somewhere else for his evening. Once Christopher is out of sight, I let out a sigh. My decision to escape to the car wasn’t because I had somewhere to go. I’ve got a few hours to kill before Ainsley needs driving home. Digging out my phone, I google McNabb Farms, trying to find Christopher.
McNabb’s Equestrian and Dairy Farm comes up, and I find a picture of three men. He seems to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. Three generations of farmers, award-winning horses, and picturesque lands. There’s a picture of Christopher and his grandfather holding up a cowbell. They’re both laughing, and they both look genuinely happy. A smile creeps onto my face as warmth fills my core. What would Ainsley and my life have looked like if we had better parents? I never knew my dad, but he can’t have been that great because he didn’t stick around. We have no pictures that burst with happiness the way these do.
My attention focuses on Christopher. In these pictures, he’s far from the well-groomed serial dater that comes into Sweet Cocktails. This man is someone I like as more than bar candy. He looks real. He doesn’t need the glitz and glam he’s been chasing around the city. He needs someone down to earth. Someone homely, hardworking, and patient.
I could be all of those things. Shaking my head, I push away the thoughts. So what if he’s attractive? It doesn’t give me the right to fantasise about a future that’s not going to happen. Wake up, Nellie.
He isn’t the man for me.