Chapter 7

7

Was that the sound of an engine? Straining her ears, Laura tried to pick out any other sounds apart from the relentless splattering of rain. Yes, there was definitely a rumbling noise. And thankfully it wasn’t the thunder returning. There was life beyond the garden gate.

Straightening her back, she gripped the window ledge above her and took a deep breath in, screaming as loudly as she possibly could, ‘Help! In here! In the garden. Help!’

Nothing.

She yelled again, desperately trying to project her voice as far as possible, ‘Help! In here! At the inn.’

Keeping her eyes fixed on the garden gate, Laura listened. The rumble of the car engine had disappeared, the torrent of rain the only sound filling the air around her again. Curling back up, she wiped the rain from her eyelashes before closing them, her slither of hope quickly disappearing.

‘Laura? Laura, did you shout?’

Flinging her eyes open again, Laura watched as Jackson opened the garden gate before letting it swing shut behind him. He’d always been the sensible one of him and her brother and today was no different. He was wearing a dark blue coat with the hood pulled up right over his dark curls.

All she wanted was to call out, alert him she was there, and get down into the heat of the inn, but the nagging thoughts of what her family would say, of what this would prove to them, whirred in her mind. Maybe someone else would come by? Maybe she’d be able to shout again if she heard someone walk past?

She watched as he jumped the stairs to the decking and hammered on the front door. He hadn’t seen her. He wouldn’t see her. Not with his hood up and the ladder half camouflaged by the undergrowth.

But if she let him walk away, this might be her last chance – her only chance – of a rescue. She’d either have to risk broken bones and get down herself or spend the night stranded up here. She’d certainly catch pneumonia and then wouldn’t be able to get the inn up and running.

Either way, her parents, her family, her friends would be right. They’d know she couldn’t cope. Heck, she couldn’t even get someone out to mend the damn washing machine and every single repair company she’d spoken to had said it was an easy fix. Surely that meant it would be easy money for them? A five-minute job they could charge a hundred pounds for. So why wouldn’t anyone help her?

And why had everyone been so snooty towards her in the village?

She swiped at her eyes, almost laughing at herself. Tears, rainwater, it didn’t matter; she was soaked anyway.

She watched as Jackson retreated back along the garden path before pausing and turning to look back at the inn – a look of confusion sweeping across his face.

It wasn’t until his hand was on the gate latch that Laura snapped out of her pity party and took a breath. ‘Jackson, up here.’

Turning back once more, Jackson surveyed the garden.

‘Here. Up on the roof.’ What was the point anymore? Her parents had been right, everyone had, and the sooner she admitted that, the sooner she’d be able to get inside and dry off.

Pushing his hood down, Jackson shielded his eyes with a hand and looked up, his eyes widening as he met her gaze. ‘Laura. What on earth are you doing up there?’

‘Trying to get a mobile signal.’ She swallowed, her throat hoarse from screaming and the sarcasm lost on even herself. She looked pointedly at the ladder. ‘There was a sheep.’

‘Jeez.’ Running back up the path, Jackson lifted the ladder and repositioned it against the roof of the bay.

After rubbing her eyes, Laura slowly inched towards the top of the ladder as Jackson’s face appeared, his hand stretching out to her.

‘Here, take my hand.’

Reluctantly, she reached out to him, his skin warm against hers as she made her way across the tiles.

‘Here, mind yourself.’ Gripping Laura’s hand tighter, Jackson guided her until her feet were on the rungs of the ladder, his body shielding hers from the rain as they made their way down to solid ground.

With her feet back on solid ground, she looked at him, wanting nothing more than to be the receiver of one of his famous bear hugs, for him to tell her that everything was going to be okay, just as he had when she’d caught her stupid teenage boyfriend kissing her best friend behind the bike sheds at school. But that wasn’t going to happen. She needed to show him that she was an independent adult now. That she didn’t need his help. Apart from being rescued from the roof, that was. She needed to show him she was capable.

She stood a little straighter and rolled her shoulders back, putting on what she hoped was a show of strength. ‘Thank you.’

Shaking his head, Jackson blinked. ‘What happened? What were you doing up there? You’re terrified of heights.’

‘No, I’m not.’ Each time she tucked her sodden hair behind her eyes, she missed a strand clinging to her nose. She stood still as Jackson gently took it between his finger and thumb and curled it behind her ear. She looked across at him. There was a slight tinge of red on his cheeks and he locked eyes with her. Swallowing, she looked away.

‘You’re telling me it was always mine, Richie or Jenny’s job to clamber up the old oak tree in your parents’ garden to knock the football from the shed roof because you found it funny to watch us fall and scrape our knees?’

‘Yes… no.’ Taking her eyes from the garden gate, she looked back at him, his eyes still on hers. ‘The gutter clip had come off and then I saw a loose tile.’

‘Why didn’t you just ask me to pop round? I’d have sorted it in no time.’ He indicated the front door. ‘Let’s get inside out of this rain. You’ll catch pneumonia if you’re not careful.’

‘Okay.’ Bending down, she retrieved her mobile from the ground and realised that by some small miracle the screen hadn’t cracked after all.

Once inside, she stepped out of her wet trainers and took the towel Jackson had run through to the cloakroom to give to her.

‘Thanks for helping me down and for this.’ She held the towel up.

‘Any time.’ Jackson glanced down at the floor before looking back up at her. ‘Not that I hope you’ll need rescuing down from a roof again. Not any time soon, anyway.’

She gave him a quick smile before towelling her wet hair into a damp mess.

‘But, seriously, any time you need anything, just shout. I’m only next door and more than happy to pop round to help. In fact, the weather is supposed to be drier tomorrow, so I’ll pop by before work and sort out that loose tile you mentioned.’

‘No!’ The word came out harsher than she’d meant.

‘No?’

‘I don’t need your help.’ Again, she could hear her tone was harsh, and looking across at Jackson, he’d noticed the way she’d spoken to him too.

‘Okay.’ His voice was quiet, his expression sullen.

‘Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so rude. Or horrible. Or…’ She sounded as though she was twelve again, annoyed at the way Richie and Jackson had barged into her bedroom whilst she practised make-up on the plastic head her parents had bought her for Christmas. She hadn’t meant to come across so young, so brattish. But she had. Without warning, tears began streaming down her cheeks and she buried her face in the damp towel.

Without saying a word, Jackson stepped towards her, drawing her into one of his bear hugs, the ones in which the world melted away. Only it didn’t, not this time. Jackson had come to her rescue and all she’d done to repay him was shout at him.

‘I’m sorry. I really am. I’m just… I’m just tired.’ And overwhelmed and not coping. Just as everyone had predicted.

But she couldn’t say any of that. She couldn’t tell him in case he then went and told Richie, who would tell Jenny, who would tell her parents and then, before she knew it, they’d all arrive and take over. Or else utter the words she knew they were itching to say, I told you so .

‘I bet you are. I can’t imagine you’ve had much sleep, what with the rain and the broken guttering.’ Jackson’s words were soft, his breath warm on her damp hair.

She closed her eyes, letting the pent-up tears continue. She knew it was just that she didn’t have anyone to talk to about it all, about her problems at the inn. No one to vent or rant to about the way she’d felt shunned in the village. She’d bottled it all up and now… now Jackson was here and bearing the brunt of it. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, no need to apologise.’ Jackson held her by the elbows, leaning back to look her in the eyes. ‘Moving is stressful. I should know, I’ve done it enough times.’

‘Yes, yes, it is.’ She looked up at him, his blue eyes dark with concern. Drawing the towel roughly over her face, she dried her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t be taking it out on you, though. You don’t deserve me yelling at you. Or crying on you.’

‘I don’t think I’d have called it yelling.’ Jackson tilted his head and grinned. ‘It was more like a reprimand.’

Laughing softly, Laura looked down at the towel in her hands and ran her index finger along the edge of it. It was well worn. And a little stained. Another thing she’d have to add to the list of things to source, buy and replace.

‘I mean it about helping out, though. I’m more than capable of turning my hand to most things. Next door will be the fourth house I’ve bought, refurbished and sold on when it’s complete.’ He nodded in the general direction of his house.

‘Really? You’re not staying in Meadowfield?’ Her voice was like a whine. She closed her eyes and cleared her throat. ‘I mean, I didn’t know you were in the property business. You said you were a chef at the pub; do you do both?’

‘Yes, that’s right, but I’ll leave the pub job when the house is complete, buy another one and find some work close by.’

‘Oh, right.’ So he wasn’t going to be hanging around. That was something. She frowned. That should be something. It should be positive news. She could have her fresh start then. ‘How long do you think you’ll be living in Meadowfield for?’

‘Ha, are you trying to get rid of me already?’ Jackson raised an eyebrow.

‘No, I…’ She sighed. ‘I just wanted a fresh start, that’s all.’

‘And then I rocked up on your doorstep? No wonder I didn’t receive such a warm welcome.’ He gave a lopsided grin.

Wringing the towel in her hands, she couldn’t work out why she suddenly felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Him only being here for a while was a good thing. It was. So why did she feel as though she wanted to feel his arms wrap around her again? ‘Sorry, just ignore me. I’m just t?—’

‘Tired. Yep, you said that.’

She turned, leading the way into the kitchen, grateful for the few seconds’ break in conversation to try to get her thoughts in order. She’d hurt his feelings. She shouldn’t have said what she had. She sank onto the long wooden bench which ran along the length of the largest table and turned to him again. All she wanted to do was change out of her wet clothes and warm herself up, but first, she needed to put right what she’d said. ‘I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just with Richie and Jenny having their perfect lives and juggling children, houses, successful marriages and good jobs, and then there being me… I’m not even the youngest.’

‘You’re comparing yourself to Jenny and Richie?’ Jackson swung his leg over the bench, sitting and facing her, his arm resting on the table between them.

She shrugged. ‘I should have my life together by now.’

‘Why? Because they have?’

She nodded. ‘I’m just such a failure. I couldn’t even keep my husband, my career – if you can actually call it that – has always been a sinking ship and I’d been living with my parents for a whole year before moving here.’

‘Well, if you’re a failure, that makes two of us.’

Narrowing her eyes at him, she dried her forehead with the towel, her damp hair still clinging to her skin. ‘You’re not a failure. You could never be a failure.’

‘By your standards, I am. I’m two years older than you, haven’t settled down, don’t even have anyone I can call my girlfriend and move around the country every few months.’ He ticked the reasons off with his fingers.

‘No, but you’ve always been successful in whatever you do.’ She reached out, touching the tips of her fingers against the sleeve of his coat.

‘That’s your perception.’ He looked down at her fingers lying on his arm.

Pulling her hand away quickly, she shook her head. ‘No, it’s the truth. And that’s why I snapped at you when you offered to help. I need to do this myself. I need to prove that I can.’

‘You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.’ Jackson shook his head slowly. ‘You really don’t.’

‘Oh, I really really do. No one wanted me to buy this inn. Not my parents or Richie or Jenny. Or anyone else I told my plans to, for that matter. No one believed I could.’ She looked around the vast kitchen, her eyes resting on the large gas cooker, or Aga… or whatever it was. She had never even used gas to cook and everywhere needed a good scrub and clean. Plus, if the washing machine saga was anything to go by, would the oven, Aga thing even work? ‘I can’t do this. They were right. They were all right.’

Taking her hands in his, Jackson looked her in the eye. ‘You’re just tired. After a good night’s sleep in a warm bed, you’ll feel better in the morning and ready to take it all on again.’

‘Ha, but I can’t even do that! The damn washing machine belt has come off, so the bedding is sitting in a pool of water inside the drum.’ She looked down at their hands, his still holding hers.

‘I’ll take a look at the machine. If it’s just the belt, then it will take all of five minutes to fix.’

‘No, no. I need to stand on my own two feet.’ She shook her head. There wasn’t anything she wanted more in the world than to let Jackson fix the machine, be able to spin the bedding and get to bed tonight.

‘Honestly, it’s an easy job. They’ll rob you if you call in a repair company.’

‘I tried that. I rang round like three, four companies and they were all too busy.’

Jackson frowned slightly before taking his hands from hers and standing up. ‘Then let me do it. It’ll be done in a second. You don’t have anything to prove to anyone. So what if people voiced concerns? That just shows that they care.’

Sighing, she stood up and followed Jackson through to the utility room. She didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. Besides, he was right, she needed a good night’s sleep and this, allowing him to help this one time, would give her that. She leaned against the doorframe as he knelt down.

‘Looks like you’ve done most of the work.’ He placed the back of the machine, which she’d left off, aside and twisted it towards him.

She nodded. She’d done her best. She’d tried. She was just incompetent. Or that’s how she felt.

‘Honestly though. You really don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.’ Jackson looked up at her as he tugged the belt into place. ‘You’ve done an amazing thing, taking the leap to buy your own inn. You should feel proud of yourself, nothing less.’

‘Huh, but I’ve still got to get it ready and open it, haven’t I?’ She wiped the towel over her forehead as a droplet of rain dripped down onto her nose. She obviously couldn’t even dry herself properly. Why did she think she could take on a task as big as this? ‘I should have listened to Dad, to Richie, when they offered to come and view it with me, but no, I wanted to do it myself, be independent, and as it turns out, they were right.’

‘In what way?’ Jackson looked up at her.

‘Well, look at it.’ She glanced around her, encompassing the space. ‘I thought it would be ready to just clean up and open to the guests, but it’s not. The washing machine was broken, there’s plaster crumbling from the wall in the hallway, the guttering, the loose roof tile. I should have noticed it. I should have realised what I was getting myself into.’

Jackson breathed out through his mouth before standing up and facing her, screwdriver still in hand. ‘Look, you’ve not done anything I haven’t in the past. Things aren’t always visible during a viewing. Estate agents want a quick sale, owners want the same and so defects, things which need fixing, aren’t pointed out, or worse, they’re hidden.’

Glancing down at the floor, Laura shifted position. ‘But I should have known what to look out for. I should have been able to spot the telltale signs. They would have – Dad and Richie – they’d have spotted them.’

‘Not necessarily. You should have seen the first house I bought to do up.’ Jackson gave a lopsided grin, the dimple in his left cheek drawing Laura’s attention to him. ‘It was a right state. I’d been in a hurry, bought it at auction after only going to have a look at the outside of the property and, well, it cost me more to do it up than I got back.’

Laura nodded. ‘But I bet you’ve never made that mistake again.’

‘No, but this is your first time buying an inn.’

‘I should still have known what to look for. I was just impatient.’ She shrugged. She had been. As soon as she’d decided what to do, she’d been desperate to make a start on her new life. She’d wanted to move out of her parents’ and her childhood town as soon as she could. She’d wanted that fresh beginning where people didn’t know her family, didn’t keep asking about how her sister and brother were, pointing out how well they were doing and thereby highlighting how rubbish her life was.

‘Pennycress Inn is beautiful.’ Placing the screwdriver on top of the washing machine, Jackson held his hand out for her and led her into the hallway. ‘Look up. Look at all of the original features, the beams, each and every mark on them a memory. This place is stunning.’

His skin was warm against hers as she watched him point out, with his other hand, the features which had made her fall in love with the property in the first place. Looking across at him, she smiled. His eyes were wide, enthusiastic, his smile genuine. He really liked this sort of stuff. She’d forgotten how into history he’d been at school, how immersed he used to become on homework projects. Whereas Richie would always just sit there on his bed throwing a tennis ball in the air, Jackson would be at Richie’s desk, his body bent over the books he was reading, the information he was lapping up.

‘It is, but it’s still falling apart.’

‘It’s old. That’s all. It needs some care. Some love. And it will be just as stunning as it once was.’ Jackson released his hold on her hand and turned to her, his eyes still full of the wonder of history. ‘And I think you’re the perfect person to do this.’

‘Now I know you’re just saying stuff to try to make me feel better.’ Still, it was sweet of him and seeing how mesmerised he’d been with the features of the inn had done something for her. It had made her realise that if she could pull this off and reopen the inn, then it could be really beautiful.

That was a big ‘if’ though. She still only had the same measly amount of money in the pot for repair work – repair work she hadn’t envisioned and money she’d planned to use as a buffer whilst she was building up bookings.

‘No, I’m not. You always had an eye for the creative when we were growing up.’

‘That was a long time ago. I haven’t as much as been to an art gallery in the past fifteen years and I’m not confident I could tell one end of the paintbrush from the other anymore.’

Jackson chuckled. ‘You’ll do a great job with Pennycress. You just need to start believing in yourself, that’s all.’

‘Hmm.’ Laura sighed. She could hear how negative she was being but she couldn’t help herself, there was so much to do, to overcome, before she could even dream about the inn becoming a success.

She followed him back through to the utility room, where he knelt once again and replaced the back on the machine before shifting it back into place.

‘Thank you.’

‘No worries. I told you it wouldn’t take long.’ Standing up, he placed the screwdriver on top of the machine. ‘Now, go and get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.’

‘I will. No, I mean thank you for talking to me, for telling me you believe I can do this.’ She smiled. ‘As well as for fixing the machine and rescuing me from the roof, obviously.’

‘Haha, no problem.’ Walking towards the front door, Jackson pulled it open, pausing in the doorway. ‘Just shout if you need anything else.’

‘Thank you.’ She wouldn’t. The stubborn streak of wanting to be independent was still very much alive in her, but it was sweet of him to offer. Standing in the open doorway, she watched as he pulled his hood up whilst walking away.