Chapter 14

14

‘Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide the whole county has turned on you.’ After standing up, Jackson held his hand out towards her and grinned.

‘Okay, but on our way out, watch how people react to me.’ Taking his hand, she let herself be pulled up.

‘I will.’

Letting go of his hand, she followed him outside and pulled her coat tighter around her. She’d forgotten how cold it was. ‘Watch this, then.’

‘Watch what?’ Jackson slowed his pace as they walked through the small garden of the village hall.

‘This.’ Pausing, she scrutinised the huddles of people: a group of women clustered around Jill Davies beneath the tree just outside the garden; a group of older people, mostly couples, gathered around Miss Cooke, their voices low and serious; a couple who were bending over their newborn in a pram. Now, who did she choose to prove her point? Not Miss Cooke. With the external hard shell of a tortoise, she would be an obvious choice. Not the couple. They were too busy cooing over their offspring to pay any attention to anyone, let alone a newbie. The group of women then. Perfect. Putting on her sunniest grin, Laura waved towards them as she and Jackson walked past. ‘Evening! Great meeting.’

‘Hi…’ Jill spoke up, but abruptly broke off as a woman with jet-black hair nudged her.

Turning back to Jackson, Laura drew in a deep breath. Despite being overtly shunned, she at least felt victorious. Maybe now he’d believe her. ‘See?’

‘Well… They may have just been busy discussing the upcoming craft fair?’ He rubbed his hand across his face before looking over his shoulder at Jill and her friends.

‘Seriously, Jackson? Did you really not see that? How that other woman stopped Jill from speaking to me? They’re ignoring me, they really are.’ She shoved her hands in her pockets. She knew what she’d seen and tonight had given her the confirmation that she wasn’t being paranoid. Something was going on. Whether or not Jackson could see it.

‘Okay, I admit, something was a little off, but…’ Jackson glanced back at the group. ‘They were probably just engrossed in their conversation, that’s all.’

Raising her eyebrows, she looked across at him. Judging by the way he was frowning, he’d definitely noticed something too.

‘Look, if you’re still worried, I’ll ask around at work. See what I can find out.’

‘Thank you. I just don’t understand it. Mind, you’ve been seen at the meeting with me tonight. They might not be talking to you tomorrow.’ She followed Jackson as he crossed to the other side of the road.

‘You mean it might be contagious?’ He chuckled.

‘Whatever “it” is.’ She curled her fingers around the word ‘it’. ‘Yes, maybe.’

‘I really?—’

‘Jacks, there you are!’ Catching up with them, Ms Taunton placed her hand on Jackson’s arm.

‘Evie? Hi.’ Pausing, Jackson looked from the estate agent to Laura and back again.

‘Can I have a quick word?’ Ms Taunton glared at Laura. ‘In private?’

‘Oh, sure. I need to get back, anyway,’ Laura mumbled.

‘No, I?—’

Jackson’s voice was lost as the other woman began speaking again. ‘Thank you.’

Turning, Laura began walking down the street. Evie? Ms Taunton’s name was Evie? But Evie was such a pretty name. Not that Ms Taunton – Evie Taunton – wasn’t pretty, she was. Stunningly so. But she was also harsh, and from what Laura could see, unless she was around Jackson, she was… sour. That was the only word Laura could think of. In all of her dealings with her – the viewing, the negotiations, even when she met her to collect the key – Evie Taunton had never once cracked a smile or even shown any hint of humanity towards her at all. She had never even offered her first name, instead referring to herself as Ms Taunton.

Taking her gloves from her pocket, Laura pulled them on as she turned down Wisteria Lane. She could see the willow tree in her garden from here.

And ‘Jacks’? Ms Taunton had called him ‘Jacks’? Jackson had always been Jackson. No nickname had ever stuck with him, and Laura and her siblings had tried a few.

‘Hey, hold up.’

Turning, she paused as Jackson jogged towards her.

‘You survived then?’

‘Survived?’ Slowing down to a walk, Jackson fell in step with Laura as she continued along the path.

‘Ms Taunton. She didn’t attempt to kidnap you and take her back to her evil lair.’ She rubbed her gloved hands together. It somehow felt colder here in the Cotswolds than it had back home. Maybe it was because Meadowfield was a village. Was that a thing? Less pollution. More chill factor?

‘Haha, Evie’s not so bad when you get to know her.’ Jackson chuckled.

‘And it seems you know her very well. Jacks .’ Laura gave him a sidelong look, her eyebrows raised.

‘You got me.’ He held his hands in the air, palms towards her. ‘We were actually together a while back.’

Laura opened and closed her mouth, unsure if he was being serious or pulling a stunt. ‘Together as in together, together? Like a couple? You and her?’

‘Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?’

‘For so many reasons.’ Laura took a deep breath in, trying to picture him and the sour estate agent together. As a couple. ‘One, you’ve only just moved to Meadowfield and you’re telling me you had a relationship with her “a while back”? I’m assuming it was a very quick relationship…?’

‘No, no. We were together seven months, actually.’

‘Seven months ? How?’

‘She’s sold me a few houses now. Yes, I’ve only recently moved to Meadowfield, but I’ve been flipping properties around here in the Cotswolds for a couple of years. Ever since Angie and I broke up, actually.’

‘Right. She’s sold you a few houses? Oh, you didn’t move to Meadowfield to be closer to her, did you?’ Did she really want to know the answer?

‘No! No, I didn’t. The house I’m refurbing now was a steal. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, our relationship was over well before I bought that place.’

‘She wanted you close so she could reignite the relationship.’ Laura nodded. That made sense. ‘She helped you get the house at a good price so she could try to move in on you again.’

‘What? No!’

‘Yes.’

‘Absolutely not! We’re nothing more than friends now.’ Jackson set his jaw, his expression serious.

‘Or that’s what you think.’ She was right. She knew she was, even if Jackson couldn’t see it.

‘Ha, it’s what I think because it’s true.’ He walked closer to her and nudged her with his arm, causing her to step to the side before he pulled her back to him.

‘Uh-huh. I’ll rephrase that statement then.’ Linking her arm through his, she leaned up towards his ear and stage-whispered, ‘She still has a crush on you.’

Coming to a stop, Jackson looked over at her and grimaced. ‘Oh, she really does not. We both agreed it wasn’t working. Besides, she quickly got with someone else.’

‘And she’s still with this boyfriend?’ Both agreed? Laura would bet her last pound on the fact Evie hadn’t wanted the relationship to be over.

‘Well, no, they broke up about a month afterwards.’ Jackson shook his head. ‘But Evie does not have still have feelings for me.’

‘You just keep telling yourself that.’ Laura laughed. It felt good to be able to have a laugh with Jackson. Yes, for not the first time, she was actually glad she’d bought the inn right next to him. ‘Do you know something?’

‘I know a lot of things.’ Jackson pushed out his chest, his expression serious but his lips twitching. ‘But enlighten me.’

‘When I first opened the door of Pennycress to find you standing there with your welcome basket, I never in a million years thought I’d be saying this now, but I’m actually pretty pleased you’re here in Meadowfield.’

‘You are?’

‘Yep. I am. I mean, there’s still a little bit of me which is beyond annoyed I don’t get to have my completely fresh start.’ She held her thumb and forefinger millimetres apart. ‘But if someone had to be here, I’m glad it’s you.’

Jackson stopped and looked at her, his eyes illuminated by the light of the moon. ‘If it means anything, I’m pleased you’re here, too.’

Laura glanced down at the ground before meeting his gaze, his blue eyes holding hers, the world around them coming to a stop.

Blinking and breaking eye contact, Jackson pointed forward. ‘We’d best get home. Billy is dropping Eden off before school again tomorrow morning so I need to make sure I get up in time to cook her something nice for breakfast as well as get set for work.’

‘Right. Yes. Homeward bound.’ What had just happened between them? That look. That hadn’t been a friend’s look.

As they began walking again, Laura looked up at the moon. It was full and hanging low in the sky, its white glow lighting the street ahead of them with an unearthly radiance. It must have just been a friend’s look. This was Jackson. He was her brother’s best friend, a family friend, her friend. Nothing else. Just a… friend.

With his eyes fixed firmly on the path ahead of them, Jackson kicked at a stone, watching as it ricocheted off the low garden wall to their right and rolled to a stop perilously close to a blue Mercedes.

Laura looked across at him quickly before focusing ahead again. She needed to bring the conversation back to life, to feel normality again. She needed to suppress the feelings of lust which were growing in the pit of her stomach. If that was what they were. Which, of course they clearly weren’t. She couldn’t be feeling that way towards him, towards Jackson, could she?

Pushing all thoughts of how she felt about him from her mind, she laughed. ‘What are you cooking for breakfast then? You might as well tell me, so I don’t need to stand out in the front garden and sniff the air.’

‘Ooh, I was thinking French toast.’ Jackson plunged his hands in his pockets and grinned, seemingly glad of a chance to talk about what he loved most, cooking.

‘Fancy! You know, I’m still not quite sure what French toast actually is.’ She felt her shoulders relax. ‘I used to be convinced it was just a posh name for eggy bread.’

Dropping his jaw, Jackson gave a dramatic gasp. ‘I can’t believe you just said that! That needs to be rectified as soon as possible. One day I’ll make you some.’

As they came to a stop in front of Pennycress, Laura raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Is that a promise?’

‘Of course.’ Jackson ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Great.’ Laura glanced towards the gate as heat flooded across her neck towards her face. She needed to get inside. Tugging off her scarf, she turned and fumbled with the gate latch. ‘See you around.’

‘Yes, see you. And don’t worry about the weird reaction from that group of women. I’ll try to get the intel at work tomorrow.’ Jackson stepped forward and clicked up the latch with ease, his fingers brushing against hers on the cold iron gate.

‘Great. That would be great. Super great, thanks.’ What was this? A ‘squeeze as many “greats” into one conversation as she could’ competition? His fingers brushing against hers… had that been intentional? Of course it hadn’t. He was Richie’s best mate, a family friend, a friend. She repeated the mantra in her head as she walked down the garden path, the lavender still brushing against her ankles, the sweet earthy perfume filling the cold night air, but fewer strands of unruly ivy tangling around her trainers after all the gardening she’d been doing. Yes, think about the gardening, Laura. There was still so much to do. The flowerbeds needed to be replanted, the willow tree needed cutting, trimming, pruning, bulbs…

‘Laura?’ Jackson’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Slowly turning, she hoped the moon’s glow and the light from the streetlamp behind weren’t enough to show just how quite bright red her face was. Although she felt so hot that quite possibly her skin had taken on a glow of its own. She dug in her pockets, drawing out the purple plastic teddy keyring before gripping it in both hands. ‘Yes?’

‘Your scarf.’ Taking a few long strides down the garden path towards her, Jackson stood in front of her, the scarf draped across his hands. ‘It must have fallen.’

‘Oh, right. Thank you.’ She glanced down at her bunched hands; the teddy digging into her palms, suddenly a little unsure of what she might do if she were to reach out to take her scarf. Why was she feeling like this about him?

Standing there, a mere few inches away from her, Jackson tilted his head before reaching forward and gently laying the scarf around her neck, the two ends still in his grasp as he stood in front of her.

Laura looked into his eyes. His pupils were dilated, his irises deep and dark in the moonlight. She could almost feel the air between them tingle with electricity before Jackson dropped the ends of her scarf and stepped back quickly, the spell dissipating.

Blinking, Laura watched as he dithered on the spot for a moment, his eyes searching hers before he ran the palm of his hand over his face and turned slowly on his heels.

‘Jackson?’ Her voice was unsure. She could hear the rise and dip as she mumbled his name.

He spun around to face her again. ‘Yes?’

Clearing her throat, she indicated her scarf. ‘Thanks.’

With a quick nod, he turned and hurried back down the path.

Half walking, half running the few short steps to the porch, Laura unlocked the door and slipped inside, grateful as the darkness of the inn embraced her. Had that just happened? Had he felt it too?

Shutting the door firmly behind her, she leaned her back against it, the back of her head lying against the cool of the stained-glass window. He must have. The moment had been brief, fleeting even, but it had been there. She’d felt it, and judging by his reaction, by the speed with which he’d walked away, he had too.

She slid down to the floor, her legs outstretched on the doormat beneath her. It was wrong. So wrong. She took a deep breath and muttered her mantra. ‘He’s Richie’s best mate, a family friend. Just a friend.’

Closing her eyes, she spoke her words louder each time she said them, with the hope that the louder and more clearly she spoke them, the greater would be her conviction. ‘He’s Richie’s best mate, a family friend. Just a friend. He’s…’

Covering her eyes with her hands, she pressed. She couldn’t be having these feelings for him. It wasn’t right.

She lowered her hands and looked around. She could pick out the dark shadow of the reception desk opposite her, the banister rising behind it, the broken pieces of wood kicked to the side of the wall. It was all unfamiliar, but she could just about make out the little bits she could see in the dim moonlight fighting its way through the stained-glass window.

Letting out a loud laugh, she grinned. That was it. She was only having these so-called feelings for Jackson Scott because he was the only familiar person she knew in Meadowfield. She wasn’t lusting after him; her teenage crush wasn’t resurfacing. No, it was a feeling of familiarity. She was clinging onto him – metaphorically speaking, of course – because he was here. It wasn’t even because he was Jackson. She’d likely be feeling the same way if it had been any of Richie’s friends, or any bloke she already knew. She was just hankering after a safety net, someone familiar, and the way she’d been treated by the so-called welcoming residents of Meadowfield had only amplified these mixed-up feelings.

And Jackson hadn’t acted strangely because he was feeling the same way, because he ‘felt’ something too. No, he’d acted the way he had because he’d been confused. Because she’d been weird with him, awkward.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she reached up to the door handle behind her and pulled herself to standing. She just hoped he hadn’t guessed how she’d been feeling. Or how she thought she’d been feeling at the time. With him her only companion, her only constant in a sea of unfamiliarity, the last thing she wanted was to push him away over nothing.