Chapter 17

17

The feeble tune of the doorbell pierced the silence in the hallway and Laura looked towards the front door. ‘Jackson, is that you? Come on in, it’s open.’

‘Yes, it’s me,’ he called.

Laura watched as the front door inched open and Jackson stepped through, his jaw dropping as the door swung to a close behind him. She tried to wipe her face on the top of her arms. She’d prefer him to see her covered in plaster rather than spot the tears of self-pity drying on her cheeks. ‘Surprise,’ she muttered weakly.

‘Jeez, Laura. What’s happened here? It looks as though a herd of rabid goats have been let loose.’

‘Or sheep.’ Her voice was quiet, defeated, the joke a lame way to cover up how she was feeling. She watched as he waded through the wallpaper and plaster covering the floor until he was beside her.

‘And I’m guessing from the way you’re holding your hands and the fact you’re completely drenched, that you’ve hit a pipe?’

She narrowed her eyes. Was he trying to be funny? At least their moment from yesterday had well and truly passed. ‘No, I’m installing a hallway shower. I’m surprised you’ve not heard of them, what with all the renovating you do. It’s all the craze, apparently. Decontaminate the guests before they enter.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Jackson held his hands up, palms forward, a sheepish expression on his face. ‘I asked for that. Let’s take a look.’

‘My pleasure.’ Stepping back, she removed her hands, watching the water spurt out before jumping back into place and stemming the flow again. ‘Believe me now?’

Frowning, Jackson shook his head slightly, obviously thinking better of cracking another joke. ‘Give me a moment and I’ll turn the water off at the stopcock.’

Laura watched him disappear through to the kitchen and listened as he rummaged through the cupboard under the sink before appearing back by her side.

‘It’s not working. It seems to be stuck. I’ll run next door and grab my tools but will see if I can find the outside one on my way. Hold tight.’

Laura breathed heavily out through her nose. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘No, of course not. Two minutes.’ Turning on his heels, Jackson rushed outside, leaving the front door slightly ajar behind him.

Sniffing, Laura surveyed the hallway. She couldn’t blame him for making a joke. It did rather look as though a herd of goats had made themselves at home. Still, it hadn’t been the right time and she certainly wouldn’t be in the mood to joke about the situation anytime soon. This – the pipe, the plaster, the wallpaper – was going to push her opening date back and drain the remaining few pounds in her savings account. And that was if she could find a tradesperson who was willing to step across the threshold.

She heard the clink of the gate shut, and then Jackson reappeared. Relief flooded through her at the thought of having him to help, and once again she was thankful her plan to have a completely fresh start had been flawed. ‘Did you find the outside stopcock? Can I step away?’ Laura shifted, ready to remove her hands.

‘No!’ Jackson shouted and held up a hand. ‘I couldn’t find it. It’s probably long hidden under the grass or flowerbeds or somewhere.’

‘Okay,’ Laura answered. ‘What now? Am I just going to have to stay like this for eternity?’

‘Hey, I’ve got you. We’ll fix it.’ Jackson laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

And she believed him. Right there, right then, she believed that he had her back, that he would be able to undo the damage that she’d done.

‘Right, let’s see what we need.’ Hefting his large toolbox onto the reception desk, Jackson filled his pockets with a handful of tools before coming to stand next to her. ‘Okay, let’s do this slowly to limit the amount of water which escapes.’

After toing and froing for a few minutes, Jackson had full control of the pipe and Laura was finally free.

‘Ouch.’ She rolled her shoulders back, trying to relieve some of the pain travelling from her fingertips to her neck.

‘You okay?’ With one hand blocking the pipe, he looked across at her and frowned.

‘I will be. I just ache after standing in the same position for so long.’ She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She was cold too and the wet clothes weren’t helping. ‘Thank you for coming to the rescue.’

‘No problem at all. Happy to help.’ Jackson looked around the room again before pulling a rag from his back pocket. ‘I’ve got to ask, what happened here?’

‘Everything.’ Laura slumped against the reception desk, suddenly unable to hold her emotions in check any longer. ‘There were a couple of patches of crumbling plaster, so I stupidly decided that I could patch it up.’

‘That’s not stupid.’

‘Oh, it is.’ She kicked at the pile of used tubes of ready-mixed wall filler. ‘I kept finding more and more patches and before I knew it, the wallpaper was ruined and the easiest thing was to rip the rest of it down so I could see where the wall needed filling.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘Does it? Does it really? Because from where I’m standing, nothing does anymore. I bought the damn place in the hope I could freshen it up a little and open it up straight away, start earning money, and now… now even if I had enough in my savings, I can’t even get any tradespeople in to help me, anyway.’ She sank to the floor. She was covered in plaster debris, pieces of sticky wallpaper and water from the pipe anyway. What would a little more do?

‘You’ll sort it.’

‘No, no, I won’t. Have you seen the end of the banister?’ She glanced behind her at the once intricately carved banister, now ruined. ‘And if there’s woodworm in that, well, it’s probably everywhere.’

‘It might not be woodworm. I’ll take a look at it after this. We’ll figure it out.’ Jackson gave a small smile.

Laura shook her head slowly and spoke quietly as the realisation sank in. ‘They were right.’

‘Who was? About what?’

‘My parents, Richie, Jenny…’ she nodded fiercely towards the front door, ‘the villagers. I’m not cut out for this, and I was pathetic for even thinking I could be.’

‘Laura, you are cut out for this. You’d be perfect at running an inn. You’re just the sort of owner that Pennycress needs.’

‘Uh-uh. I’m not. It’s embarrassing really. That I thought I could. I told my old work colleagues my plans before I left; my friends…’ She wiped her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. ‘They’ll all know what a failure I am when I return and beg for my old job back.’

‘You won’t…’

‘And my family… well, everyone knows what they think of me already, and this will just be the confirmation they need. They knew I couldn’t cope. They’ve been trying to talk me out of it ever since I began talking about buying an inn to run. I’ve failed.’ She was on a roll now, all of her emotions pouring out of her. She remembered their reaction the first time she told them her plans. She’d been mulling the idea over in her mind for some time, gathering information before bringing it up in conversation during one of her mum’s roast dinners.

She shook her head at the memory. Her mum had actually been speechless for a whole three minutes – her mum! And then it had been her dad who had uttered the first words – ‘Are you sure, Laura? Are you certain you want to take on that amount of responsibility?’ He hadn’t needed to say anything else, that one question had spoken volumes to her: they didn’t think she was capable. And they were right.

‘Your family love you and support you. They always have. And you certainly are not a failure.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ She stabbed her finger at him. ‘They’ve never believed in me. I’ve always been the one who had to rely on people, first my parents, then Harry, then my parents again. And now you.’

‘You’re not relying on me. I happen to live next door. It’s just fate.’

‘No.’ She began pulling little pieces of wallpaper from her T-shirt. ‘They know me better than I know myself.’

With his shoulders sinking, Jackson looked across at her again. ‘Nobody knows you better than you know yourself.’

Covering her face with her hands, she closed her eyes as she felt the big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘They do.’

‘No, they don’t.’ Dropping the rag he held in his hand, Jackson muttered ‘drat’ under his breath before fixing his eyes on her. ‘Look at me, Laura. Look at me.’

She slowly drew her hands back to her lap and met his gaze, their eyes locking. She didn’t care that she looked a mess; she didn’t care that her face was puffy and red. This was it. She couldn’t go on pretending anymore that she had everything together because in that moment that illusion was so far from the truth, she’d laugh if she didn’t feel so empty.

‘You’ve got this. Pennycress Inn is a stunning building that just needs some love and attention. All the things you can give it.’

She shook her head. She didn’t know why he was even pretending any longer. She’d accepted it.

Taking his hands away from the pipe, he turned to walk over to her before getting an earful of water and hurriedly turning his attention back to the wall. ‘Damn.’

‘Sorry,’ Laura mumbled. Now look at what she’d done, she’d dragged him into this sorry mess and he’d given up his evening to help her, to get what in return? Ruined clothes and her crying at him, that’s what.

‘Ha, don’t you apologise for that!’ Jackson began to chuckle.

‘I really don’t see what’s funny about this situation.’ Laura sniffed. ‘My life is falling apart around me. I mean, my property is literally falling apart around me. How is that funny?’

‘It’s not. It’s not funny. It’s just…’ His expression becoming serious again, he shook his head. ‘I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, the way the world sees you.’

‘Like an awkwardly made Halloween costume of a snowman having encountered a massacre with a wallpaper decorator?’ She looked down at herself.

‘Don’t forget the pool party.’ Jackson chuckled again.

‘Oh yes, the pool party.’ Pulling the sodden fabric of her T-shirt from her belly, she wrung it in her hands, watching the water dribbling to her lap, and slowly her tears turned to laughter as her shoulders shook and she surveyed the room, which up until a few hours earlier had been beautiful and upmarket and now looked like somewhere that had been abandoned for years and the local wildlife had made it their home.

‘There, done.’ Jackson stepped back cautiously, eyeing the pipe until he was sure the danger of being covered with water again had indeed been averted. Walking across to where she still sat curled up on the floor by the reception desk, Jackson lowered himself to the floor next to her.

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. Nothing a little plumbers’ putty won’t fix.’ He grinned as he ran his hands down his top, leaving a trail of grime on the once clean navy wool of his jumper. At least she could offer to wash it now the washing machine had been fixed.

‘I wasn’t thanking you for fixing the pipe, but thank you for that, too. I was thanking you for making me laugh.’

‘Oh, well, all part of the service.’ He grinned, his dimple appearing. ‘Seriously though, please stop thinking and talking about yourself like that. You’re one of the most capable people I know.’

‘Ha, now I know you’re still intent on joking.’

‘I’m not joking.’ He spoke quietly, each one of his words clearly spoken.

‘Hmm. I know you’re just trying to make me feel better, but I think we both know that’s a lie.’ She shivered.

‘You’re cold. Here, have my jumper.’ Jackson pulled his jumper over his head and held it out for her.

‘Don’t worry, I’m disgusting.’ She looked down at her T-shirt. ‘I’d only get it dirty.’

‘It doesn’t matter. You’re cold. Take it.’

‘Thanks.’ Pulling it on, she smiled a small sad smile. She had a wardrobe of clothes upstairs, but even fetching a jumper felt like too much for her at this moment. ‘Why does everybody hate me?’

Jackson pulled a face as he leaned back against the reception desk. ‘Nobody hates you.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Now there’s no excuse for lying. I was there. I heard what they said in the pub earlier.’

Jackson took a deep breath in before sighing equally loudly. ‘Oh.’

‘Oh? That’s all you’ve got to say?’

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jackson twisted his body so he was facing her. ‘They don’t hate you. They just don’t like you living here.’

‘They don’t want me in Meadowfield?’ She frowned.

‘Not in Meadowfield. The fact you’ve moved to the village isn’t the problem.’

‘So it’s the inn, then? They don’t like the fact I bought Pennycress.’ She scratched at the cuticle on her thumb, her stomach churning. They’d seen through her already. ‘They know how incompetent I am. I must just have one of those faces.’

‘You’re not incompetent.’ Jackson shook his head. ‘It’s not you. They’d have a problem with anyone who had bought this place.’

‘What? Why? What do they want? For it to stand derelict? To go to ruin?’ She set her jaw. That wasn’t fair on Pennycress. It was too beautiful for that, even with all of its problems. A flash of anger replaced the self-pity.

‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Vivienne Fields was the previous tenant of Pennycress. The actual building was owned by a chap called George Yates, I believe. He moved out of Meadowfield about thirty years ago now and Vivienne had been running Pennycress ever since.’

Laura shook her head. What did Vivienne have to do with the way people were acting towards her?

‘She’s a very, very well-respected and liked woman in Meadowfield and the surrounding area. The inn attracted a lot of tourism, money, to the village and they were thankful to her for that.’

She looked up from her now raw cuticle. ‘I don’t understand. If they want Pennycress back up and running, then why won’t anyone help me? Why can’t I employ anyone to help with any of the tasks? Why won’t anyone talk to me?’

‘From what I can understand – and it’s only what I’ve picked up here and there, so there may well be chunks of information missing…’ He shrugged. ‘But George Yates basically evicted Vivienne so he could put the inn up for sale.’

‘And she didn’t want to leave?’

‘I don’t think so, no. I don’t think she was ready to retire. But she didn’t have the money to buy at the price George was asking.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s still no reason for people to treat you the way they have.’ A deep crimson crept up Jackson’s neck from beneath the collar of his T-shirt.

‘I didn’t know any of this. Ms Taunton?—’

‘Evie.’

‘Yeah, her. She didn’t tell me any of this. In fact, the inn was a relatively good bargain compared to some of the other places I looked round. Especially as the sale included everything I would need to get it running again.’ She looked around the hallway. ‘Or I thought it was a good bargain, anyway.’

‘I don’t really understand why people can’t see that you have nothing to do with Vivienne being evicted.’ He shook his head.

She shifted position, trying to alleviate the cramping spreading up her calf. ‘I guess it’s a good job I’m selling up then.’

Jackson took her hands into his and met her gaze again. ‘Don’t do that. Please.’

‘Huh, we can both see the damage I’ve done in just over a week. Imagine what I’ll do to the place if I stay. I mean, look at that wall.’ Taking in the bumpy blobs of filler covering the wall, she let out a short laugh and looked down at his hands. Her own were warm inside his. She felt safe.

‘No. This needed to happen.’ Jackson looked around them. ‘And besides, I quite like the patchwork effect. It adds to the charm and character.’

She smiled and looked back at him. He’d made no move to pull his hands away and there was that look again. That intense look from last night when she’d been convinced they’d had ‘a moment’. Or, more truthfully, convinced herself they hadn’t.

‘You can get it back to its former glory.’ Jackson leaned forward a little. ‘I can help you.’

‘I’m supposed to be doing this on my own, remember?’ She felt the pull too, a magnetic force as she herself inched forward. She could feel his breath against her skin, could sense the tingle between them as he paused a mere centimetre from her.

‘Do you want this?’ His voice was husky, nervous.

‘Uh-huh.’ Did she? She shouldn’t. She closed her eyes as their lips met and she felt his fingers run up the nape of her neck, drawing her closer. It was… Kissing him was everything she’d ever imagined it would be: gentle, strong, wonderful. As she felt him pull away, she leaned back and searched his eyes. ‘I’ve imagined how that would feel for a long time now.’

‘Me too.’ He grinned, his lips still so close to hers.

‘You have?’

Drawing her towards him again, he leaned down and kissed her once more, harder this time, more passionately, before leaning back and running his hand across his face. ‘Does that answer your question?’

‘Umm, let me see…’ It was her turn this time to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him towards her and kiss him. ‘Yes, yes, I think it does.’