Trust Me

by Nell Grey

  The payment from the Scousers was in, and there was an update from Irish in his encrypted emails. He’d been lying low for five weeks, and he’d stay here for a couple of weeks more. It had been a wise plan. Things, he could see, had been kicking off in London.

  The Helbanianz were on the warpath. There’d been a couple of hits on other gangs, and then retaliations from that. A turf war. But without Prifti, as predicted, the Helbanianz were weak and disorganised.

  And most importantly, Sion was still a ghost to them.

  And as forecast by his handler, the Scousers had used the confusion to quickly muscle into the area and set up supply and distribution chains.

  These guys were logistics experts. Better than Amazon.

  Snapping shut his laptop and stowing it away, he took himself back over to the bar.

  So far, it had been plain sailing. A couple more weeks and he could start considering jobs again.

  CHAPTER 13

  -----------✸----------

  “I need to get back. People in London will have forgotten who I am. And besides, I miss Sam.”

  Jac and Callista wandered through the fields, her arm in his.

  “You sure that old thing of Annie’s will get us there? Do you mind checking it over for us, darling?”

  “Yeah, no worries,” Jac agreed, “The last thing you need, is a blow-out on the motorway. If that old banger does break down, at least Annie'll have you to keep her company on the hard shoulder.”

  Annie had offered to drive Callista back to London with her. The old SUV hadn’t been further than the nearest town in the whole time Jac had been there. And he was sure, Trusty Rusty, as Annie called it, was the same old truck Glyn had when Jac was a kid. Glyn was far too mean to spend money on garage servicing, preferring to tinker with his motors himself.

  They’d had a cold snap since Maureen’s funeral, and the weather was holding dry and frosty. The ground hadn’t thawed for days, and the frozen grass crunched under Cal’s borrowed wellies. Jac went around the stock with her, explaining what he’d been doing and showing her his plans.

  Callista listened with interest.

  “The cold weather means they need more silage.”

  “My son, the farmer.”

  She patted his arm.

  “Better than your son, the soldier?”

  “Much better. I was never happy about that, as you know. Though, you’re also well versed on my views on meat production.”

  Her exasperation made Jac laugh.

  “How can I forget that memorable day when you caught your vegan son scoffing down a double cheeseburger.”

  “All this work… What happens if Annie sells the place? Alun was in a deep convo with her at Maureen’s funeral. He’s after the land. And her too, I wouldn't be surprised. His eyes were on her the whole time.”

  Sensing she’d touched a nerve, Callista stopped.

  “Son, if you like her, you need to tell her.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “You’re too scared to take a risk, you mean?”

  “It’s complicated. I don’t wanna muck things up between us.”

  “Jac, you can’t help who you love. Look at me and your father. And now with Sam, we have this deep…”

  “Cal!”

  He wasn’t going there. Delving into the depths of his mother’s pansexual love life.

  “When you find real love, and I’m not talking about sex, I mean real knock-you-sidewards-so-full-on-you-can’t-even-breathe kinda love; it’s like a truth. And, however much you try, there’s no denying it.”

  He studied the ground and his boots.

  “You’ve always loved Annie. This is only as difficult as you want it to be. Think about it, son.”

  He did. He thought about nothing else.

  Bringing in the wood for the fire. Feeding Jess. Making dinner.

  He remembered her in his arms, watching that film. And the smell of toffee from her shampoo as his lips touched her soft, golden hair. He needed to see her before she went back to London. To tell her how much she meant to him; that he loved her.

  It was dark by the time he finally decided to go for it.

  Grabbing his coat and toolbox, he headed up to the farmhouse to check Trusty out and see Annie before she left.

  From the back porch, he could hear her voice drifting in from the farmhouse kitchen.

  “Uh-uh. Strip back what you can and cover everything in a cream colour. If you could paint the kitchen units and screw those loose doors back on tight, that’d be great too. I’ll be back in three or four days, so all that should keep you busy ‘til then. At least the kitchen will look fresh if I have viewings.”

  “Viewings?”

  Jac was taken aback. She’d not mentioned anything to him about selling up.

  And where did that leave him and the farm?

  “That’s fine, I can do that for you,” Sion carried on as Jac stormed in. “I’ll keep receipts and we can settle up when you get back.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you both,” Jac rumbled. His throat cracked and dry.

  “We… we… we were going through…”

  “No need to explain. You don’t even need to tell me, you’re selling the farm. In fact, don’t tell me anything…”

  His voice rose.

  “Considering, I’m only the bloody tenant.”

  “I think I’ll get going,” Sion said, assessing the situation. “I’ll come by first thing in the morning.”

  Jac watched his old buddy leave. He moved out of there quicker than a plate of beans through a vegan. So much for having his back.

  “See ya, bro’,” Jac called after him, snarkily.

  Annie’s eyes slammed into his with a defiant glare.

  “Don’t you go having a pop at Sion, for helping me out,” she railed at him. “I’m just considering my options, that’s all.”

  “Keys?” he growled at her. “Cal asked me to check the truck. I’m doing it for her.”

  Her temper was up too now, and her green eyes flashed at him ferociously. Snatching the keys off the hook, she flung them at him.

  “It’s my farm, Jac. I can do what I want with it. And if I do decide to sell the land, I’ll bloody well sell it.”

  When she saw him scowling back at her, she added, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you first refusal.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He turned to charge away but halted in his tracks.

  “And just how do you think, an ex-squaddie like me is gonna get hold of the multi-million pound price-tag on this farm?” His sarcastic tone, infuriating her. “Rob a bank? Or better still, I’ll look down the back of that old sofa.”

  “You could always ask Mummy?” she said mockingly.

  “No.”

  The thunderous finality in his voice ended all conversation. She threw him the heavy-duty torch, then slammed the door.

  He was still seething, as he turned the key in the ignition and started it up. The SUV’s engine sounded fine, but the ride would be a boneshaker.

  Good. It served her right.

  Selling the farm. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  ◆◆◆

  When I’ve simmered down, I’m feeling pretty bad with myself.

  His outburst surprised me.

  I should have been more sensitive to him and explained it to him first. Plans? I’ve no idea what I’m doing myself yet, but I do tend to go off like a bull at a gate.

  Like redecorating the farmhouse.

  Jac’s got Trusty’s bonnet open when I come out onto the yard. It’s freezing, even though I’ve wrapped up against the cold.

  I approach the Isuzu gingerly.

  “Thanks for checking her over.”

  “Got a tissue for this?” he grunts, his head in the engine, not looking up.

  I go get some kitchen roll from the house and he snatches it out of my hand to wipe the dipstick.

  “Tyres are good. Oil’s fine,” he says flatly, stepping away fr
om the truck, still refusing to look me in the eye. “Should be alright.”

  “I hope so. She’s all I’ve got.”

  He leans against the driver’s door and I follow suit, standing in moody silence for a couple of minutes stewing on the words we’ve thrown at each other. Wondering who’ll give in first?

  This time, Jac folds.

  “You can’t sell up, Annie. You love this place.”

  “I do. But what’s here for me, Jac? There’s no jobs.”

  He considers it, wiping his hands clean of oil.

  “Look, it’s your place, you need to do what’s best for you.”

  “Yeah,” I shrug, holding my chin high.

  “But… I don’t want you to go.”

  “You don’t?”

  My stomach flips.

  “No.”

  Our eyes meet.

  Whether it’s from us fighting, I’m not sure. But, that electricity we have, it’s definitely crackling between us now. And its heady, heart-thumping anticipation makes it so I can hardly breathe.

  My body fizzes as he suddenly pulls me into him, caging himself roughly around me and covering my lips in a dizzyingly passionate, claiming kiss.

  I can’t help myself. Consumed with desire for each other, I arch my body up against his strong torso as he presses me back hard up against the Isuzu; still wrapped together, his mouth on mine, our tongues dancing.

  Suddenly, my mushed-up brain kicks into overdrive.

  What’s he doing? Kissing me like this, the night before I’m leaving? The same evening he finds out that I might sell the farm?

  It’s happening to me again.

  The bastard!

  He’s playing me.

  Pulling away, I suddenly can’t breathe; and I push him back with the palm of my hands against his chest.

  “Annie! What’s up?”

  He’s good, alright.

  Making his eyes appear clouded with lust, then confusion.

  “You were amazing. Can’t you feel this thing we have between us?”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “What?”

  Jac rubs his face.

  “What’ve I done?”

  “You’ve taken me for a fool, Jac Jones.”

  “What?”

  His fake innocence maddens me even more.

  “Don’t give me, ‘what’. I mention selling the farm and you snog me, like that.”

  “Snog?”

  “What d’ya take me for, some gullible fool?”

  “Uh?”

  “D’ya think I’ll melt in your arms and do whatever you want me to do?”

  “Annie… Please… You’ve got this all wrong.”

  “Have I?”

  I push him back angrily again with the flat of my hand.

  “You make no moves until now? Now. When I’m considering selling up. D’ya think I’m daft?”

  “Hold on,” his voice rises in anger. “You’re suggesting I’d use you like that? For the farm?”

  “Well, wouldn’t you? Mr Love’m’n’leave’em?”

  “Mr What?” he sneers, making my blood boil. “Are you, like, twelve or something? Grow up, Annie!”

  “What about your rule, Jac?” I hurl back at him furiously.

  “Yeah, bloody good rule, if ya ask me,” he snaps, slamming the bonnet down shut and storming away.

  “See ya around.”

  ◆◆◆

  “You gonna be quiet the whole journey, Missy? I thought we were gonna have some fun? What happened to Thelma and Louise?”

  “Sorry, Cal. I’m tired, that’s all. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  I’ve been in a foul mood since I woke up, having spent most of the night sniping and grousing to myself about Jac.

  Cal stares blankly out of the window.

  It’s not turning out to be anything like the road trip we’d cooked up together. But we drive on, covering the miles as I brood silently about Jac.

  That kiss. The rush of excitement, and the temper we both have when we fight.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “Thinking and sighing.”

  “Am I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Tell me about Sam,” I say, trying to sound upbeat, switching the conversation.

  “What about her? She’s a lecturer.”

  “In?”

  “Printmaking. We met at an art retreat in Spain.”

  “Cool.”

  “Hmm. It was heavenly. We were in this remote finca in the Sierra Nevada, miles from anywhere, surrounded by the spring flowers and the birds,” Callista explains wistfully. “We were up high in the mountains, but it felt like Wales too, like the farm. Except that they had almond and lemon trees, of course.”

  “What d’you mean like the farm?”

  “Peaceful, sweetie. There aren’t many places left where you’re totally unplugged and surrounded by nature. It’s very special.”

  I chew that over later.

  I’ve never thought about the farm in that way before. The lack of connectivity has always been a huge hassle for me, and a convenient excuse to get back to London.

  But, I get what Callista means. Being out of touch with all the stresses of work has helped put my career into perspective.

  The truth is, my job had become tedious. The move from New York to London was me trying to find new challenges, re-energise. But it wasn’t the geography, that was the problem.

  From the events of the last few weeks, I’ve learned too, that work is only one part of my life. It used to be everything. And my career must never define me. Because, if it's taken away, then what will be left? It took being perched on my ledge, gazing at the magnificent Welsh mountains, to finally figure that one out.

  “Where did you stay on the retreat?”

  “They’d turned the farm buildings into bunk rooms, and there was a living area where we could cook and sit together. They had a large art studio there too. And they had yurts. Very romantic,” Callista chuckles.

  “I hope I get to meet Sam, soon.”

  “You will. I’ve told her all about you.”

  “Did Jac like her?”

  “Yes, of course, sweetie... Now, how about we stop beating around the bush,” she says finally, as we filter onto the motorway. “What on earth is going on between you two?”

  I focus hard on the traffic, trying not to engage.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Ha! That’s exactly what he said.”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday afternoon, when I went for a walk with him.”

  “Yesterday afternoon?”

  “Yes. He likes you, Annie. A lot. More than likes. He always has. But, he’s afraid to mess things up with you. I told him to go for it and tell you how he felt.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  I turn to look at Callista and then hit the brake hard as the traffic slows up sharply in front of me.

  “Crap!”

  “What’s up?”

  “He went for it.”

  “And?”

  I chew on my bottom lip. I’ve messed things up.

  “He kissed me, Cal. And we had a big fight. Two actually. I thought he was only kissing me, so I’d keep the farm.”

  “What?”

  “I was confused. It made sense at the time.”

  “You’re thinking of selling the farm?”

  “Yes… No… I dunno yet… I asked Sion to help me paint up the place and Jac overheard.”

  “And, you believe that Jac was trying to manipulate you?”

  “Oh, God!” I cringe. “When you put it like that.”

  “Why would Jac do such a thing?”

  She’s right.

  "He’s like me, he doesn’t give a hoot about material things.”

  “Argh! I’m over-analysing everybody’s motives these days.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear.”

  �
�But, I’m getting it wrong all the time, Cal. How can I trust anybody ever again, when I don’t even trust my own judgement?”

  “Do you still feel something for him?”

  My pained expression and the sigh escaping my lips tells her all she needs to know.

  "Trust your heart then, sweetie. Try listening to that.”

  CHAPTER 14

  -----------✸----------

  “Want another one?”

  Jac was going for it, slamming down the tequila shots.

  “We better be heading soon.”

  They were the only two of the original gang of friends left in the club on the pier, and Sion was ready for home.

  “Taxi’s booked for one o’clock, mate. It won’t wait. And it’ll be a bitch to try and get another one to go all the way to our back of beyond.”

  “Take a chill pill, Sion. Worst case scenario, we kip on a sofa. Best case, we get a bed.”

  “Easy tiger.”

  Sion refused the full shot glass Jac was pushing onto him.

  “What about Annie?”

  “What about her?”

  Jac knocked Sion’s shot back in one.

  The place was buzzing. Students were out in force. Jac hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Like lads again, on a night out.

  “Come on, mate. We’re the last men standing.”

  Sion looked at the state of his friend.

  “Just about.”

  A group of girls, who’d been eyeing them for a while, began making their way over. Soon, they were sidled up next to where Sion and Jac were standing.

  “I’ve not seen you here before?”

  One of them had started to make conversation with Jac.

  “Wanna drink?”

  She was tall and blonde, not a patch on Annie of course. But she’d do, for tonight.

  She strained to hear him over the music.

  “Tequila?”

  “Whatever.”

  Sion found Jac by the bar waiting to get served.

  “Mate, I’m off. Come with me or you’ll miss our taxi.”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Mate, what you doin’? Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Leave me be, Sion.”

  He sighed and smacked Jac on the shoulder.