by Suzanne Snow
‘Not yet,’ Sam muttered darkly, shuffling around to get a better look at the players. ‘Oh good, Charlie’s repositioned the field. Would you like a drink, Sarah?’
‘No, thank you,’ Sarah replied. Annie noticed Jed chatting to a couple of girls, hearing their laughter from across the field. ‘I can’t stay long. I just came to support Jon. I thought he was playing today,’ she said casually. She clapped as more runs were notched on the scoreboard.
‘That’s not our team,’ Sam pointed out with a grin and Annie laughed.
‘Oops, sorry, it’s so difficult to tell. Why don’t they wear different colours, like footballers do? Anyway, you were telling me about Jon?’
‘Was I?’ Sam asked. ‘Oh yes. He’s injured, so he can’t play. Groin strain, goodness knows how he did that. Or maybe it’s because of the broken finger? So hard to keep up. Do you know, Annie? Did he mention it the other night?’
Annie felt her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh at Sam’s impishness. ‘No, sorry. Cricket never came up.’ She rummaged in her bag for sun block and began to smooth it across her arms and shoulders.
‘What a pity,’ Sarah murmured. ‘He’ll be so disappointed not to play. I wonder why he didn’t mention it when we met yesterday.’
‘Maybe the strain happened overnight then,’ Sam said slyly. ‘Oh look, there’s Megan with her friend from Brighton.’ She waved to the older ladies and Annie felt Sarah’s cool gaze upon her as she stood up.
‘I never liked that particular lotion, Annie. I always found it seemed to disagree with my skin and I have to be so careful, given my career. But I’m sure it will suit you – you obviously freckle so easily.’ Sarah was already walking away, but Annie was certain she must’ve heard Sam’s scream of laughter and her own indignant snort.
‘Why does she always try to make me feel about six years old with my hand in the biscuit tin,’ Annie hissed to Sam, who was still falling about. ‘Just when I thought she was going to be nice.’
‘Rest assured, you clearly look gorgeous or she wouldn’t bother. I’m sure it’s not personal but she must have noticed that you and Jon are spending time together, and it seems she isn’t ready to chuck in the towel just yet.’
Suddenly they were all startled by a savage yell from the bowler, and the entire Thorndale team erupted in a cheer when the umpire finally held up a finger, the opening batsman out. Crossly the batsman swiped his bat across the ground as he left the field and the Thorndale players gathered in a jubilant huddle.
After that, the rest of the Calstone batsmen didn’t seem to be up to much, and when the game broke early for tea they were all out for one hundred and nineteen. Annie’s face was freckling, despite the sun block and her hat. At least Sarah couldn’t see her. Most people had disappeared to buy ice cream and she helped Sam spread out their picnic.
‘Annie, can I be cheeky and ask you to help us?’ Sam said sleepily. ‘We have a meeting every other Tuesday for the local teenagers to get together and we always feed them. It’s our last one before the summer break. What can we give eighteen teenagers that’s simple to prepare? I think they’ve had enough pizza and fries to last a lifetime.’
Annie didn’t get around to replying straight away. She was going to say yes, she would help, but that was before she spotted Jon heading for the pavilion. Despite her resolution not to see him, her heart soared at knowing he was nearby. He greeted people on the way but wasn’t pausing to chat. She knew Sam’s eyes were on her as she dragged her attention back to the question, embarrassed by how easily she had been distracted. She felt almost dizzy with the onslaught of mixed emotions and knew that the pulse in her neck was beating a little faster.
‘What about a curry?’ she suggested, fixing her eyes firmly on her friend. ‘We could make two, with plenty of bread and rice and maybe an apple pie to finish.’
‘Brilliant, I knew you’d have an inspired choice. Thank you so much, we can sort out the details later.’
They all stood to clap then as Neil Dawson reached his half-century. Neil held up his bat to acknowledge the cheers from the crowd, taking off his helmet to milk the applause as Charlie slapped him delightedly on the back. They only needed eighteen more runs to win but moments later Neil was bowled out, and he kicked at the ground angrily as he headed to the pavilion. She watched as Jon shook Neil’s hand to congratulate his innings anyway, the game almost won. Not once had Jon looked in her direction.
The infamous ex-England wicket keeper came in next. He wasn’t troubled very much by the bowlers, despite the once professional spinner, and soon he and Charlie had scored the winning runs. The rest of the Thorndale team, including Jon, rushed onto the pitch to celebrate with them and the crowd sportingly cheered both teams on a lap of honour.
Most of the crowd hung around for the presentation and Charlie accepted the trophy. Annie saw Jon go to each Calstone player and shake hands, trying to commiserate with their loss while celebrating Thorndale’s win. But Sarah was still hovering and when she finally had Jon’s attention, she kissed him on both cheeks, her hands resting briefly on his shoulders, congratulating him as though he’d been the one to win the match for Thorndale. Grumpily, Annie gathered her things as she said goodbye to Sam and turned for home.
* * *
Schoolwork took over the rest of the weekend and most of Monday, and Annie was glad to catch up so she would be free to cook on Tuesday. But to her horror, when Sam rang to say that Charlie would do the shopping for the meal, she informed Annie that they always met at Jon’s house.
Dreading the possibility of seeing him later at his home, Annie was nonetheless ready to go by four thirty, wishing she had arranged to meet Sam at the vicarage instead. Clutching a sturdy cool bag filled with the drinks she’d offered to provide, she walked through the village to the big, open gates at the entrance to the Hall. The sweeping drive to the house, half hidden behind an avenue of soaring lime trees, seemed imposing and yet somehow inviting. Annie dithered in the lane and then began to walk decisively up the drive, hoping fervently that Jon wasn’t at home.
Built of creamy sandstone, she couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful Georgian house. Beneath a broad and tiled roof, six windows reached across the building on both floors, the entrance dominated by a wide front door underneath a portico of stone columns. Lush parkland crept higher as the ground rose behind the Hall, sheltered by huge trees separating it from the moor above, with cattle grazing in a field, dotted about like abandoned toys. She spun around as she heard a car, an unwelcome heat on her face as she recognised Jon’s Land Rover. Her shoulders sank and she dawdled near the front door as he leapt out and headed towards her.
‘Hi,’ she called brightly, trying to make her uncharacteristic arrival at his house seem completely normal. Other than the brief glimpse at the cricket match, it was the first time she had seen him since their date, and she was astonished afresh by his physical presence. She blurted out the first thought on her mind as she tried to pretend that everything between them had reverted to simplicity and not the intimacy they had shared. ‘I’m er, waiting for Sam and Charlie, I’m supposed to be helping them with the meal. Sorry, I didn’t realise, until today anyway, that it would be here.’ She stopped abruptly, realising she was babbling and felt a little better when he gave her a brief smile.
‘I know, Sam called me.’ He stopped nearby, isolating a key from the set in his hand. ‘I’ve come to let you in as our housekeeper isn’t here today. They shouldn’t be too long.’
‘Oh.’ Annie couldn’t read his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, as he finally looked at her. He was still in work clothes, his scuffed boots covered in dried mud. Roughened stubble darkened his face, and tempting memories rushed into her mind as she recalled the touch of his lips against her cheek.
‘Come in.’
He sounded brusque and her unease flared again as he unlocked the door and pushed it aside so she could enter first. They were in a large, almost square reception hall, its white walls divi
ded by rectangular panels and partially covered by oil paintings, a door in each corner of the room and a fireplace was laid but unlit. Jon dumped his keys and phone on a circular table in the centre beside a vase of beautifully scented freesias and roses. He picked up some of the post, glancing at it idly as he pushed the sunglasses into his hair.
‘So many doors,’ she said finally, slowly turning around until she was facing him. He dropped the mail back onto the table and glanced at her. She was sure he would be glad to see the back of her and wished she’d never come. She had never dreamt that being in this house with him could feel so inappropriate.
‘Those two don’t lead anywhere and can’t be opened.’ He pointed to the doors either side of the fireplace. ‘When the house was built in the eighteenth century, they were only included to make the room appear symmetrical, to balance the design. I’ll take you through to the kitchen.’
She realised that he probably thought she was prying when all she’d wanted to do was break the silence growing between them. He took the heavy bag and she trailed miserably along a corridor after him, their feet tapping evenly on the stone. He thrust open a door and once again stood aside for her to enter.
The huge room was even bigger than she had been expecting, divided between a kitchen and a family room that looked well used. A scruffy table, big enough to seat twelve, bridged the gap between the two, half hidden beneath carrier bags of shopping. In the family room, a pair of sofas sat at right angles to a coffee table, littered with newspapers and a couple of half empty mugs near a laptop.
The pale grey, almost white walls were splattered with modern abstract pictures, a few family photographs stuck onto a board and a framed map of the farm next door. The last of the evening sunshine was trickling into the kitchen through the large windows overlooking a courtyard garden outside.
‘Everything should be here or in the fridge.’ Jon pointed to the table and Annie nodded as he dumped her bag alongside the pile. ‘But look around, help yourself to anything you need. Most of the pans and stuff are in the cupboard next to the Aga.’
‘Thank you.’ She felt as though they had been here before, although when she had cooked at Kilnbeck, things between them had been different. The suggestion of a beginning then, an end not yet arrived. She began rummaging through the bags as he moved around behind her.
‘See you later. We meet at seven, I’ll be back by then.’
‘Aren’t you staying here?’ she asked, astonished and a little alarmed at being in his house alone.
Jon shook his head with a smile that didn’t lessen the detachment in his eyes. ‘No. I’ve got to get back to Kilnbeck.’
She began to empty the first bag so he couldn’t see her disappointment and heard him unlock the door to the garden and go outside. She was sorting through a pile of vegetables when he suddenly reappeared and she glanced at him in surprise.
‘Thanks for helping. I know you’d probably rather not, but I appreciate it and Sam does as well.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she started to say, but he had gone, banging the door behind him without waiting for her reply. Twenty-five minutes later, she had two big pans of onions gently softening on the Aga, and nearly jumped out of her skin when Charlie and Sam burst in through the door from the hall.
‘Sorry we’re late.’ Sam was apologetic as she carefully lowered a large enamel jug of cream onto the table and dashed over to give Annie a hug. ‘We planned to be here sooner and then Charlie was called away. Are you okay? It smells delicious.’
‘Everything’s fine,’ Annie assured her. ‘The chicken’s ready to go in and the peppers just need chopping for the vegetarian curry.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Charlie grabbed a knife and started hacking at courgettes and peppers, and Annie laughed as he hurled big chunks into her pan. They nattered as they worked, and Sam made coffee for all of them.
‘You are staying, aren’t you?’ Sam asked sleepily from the depths of a sofa. ‘We’re watching a movie after we’ve eaten.’
‘No. Once everything’s ready I’ll go.’ She smiled helplessly when she heard Sam’s voice floating across the room.
‘We need you to stay,’ Sam said firmly, and Annie glanced at Charlie when he laughed. ‘I didn’t ask you to help just to chuck you out when the cooking’s done. Besides, you might enjoy it, and I’m sure Jon won’t want you to disappear.’
Annie wondered if Sam was trying to persuade her to stay in order to throw her and Jon together again. She knew she was beaten and accepted defeat, knowing perfectly well that she did want to see Jon again before the evening was over.
The two curries were simmering gently by the time the door sprang open again and Jon walked back in. Annie felt her breath stutter in her throat when he caught her eye and she looked away hastily. He said hello to Sam and dropped onto a sofa to pull off his boots.
‘I’m going to shower. I won’t be long.’ He left the room without giving Annie another glance.
It was too much. The thought of him soaking wet upstairs sent her wits spinning, and she hacked the peeled apples into small chunks as she tried to concentrate on what Charlie was telling her about the forthcoming agricultural show on Saturday, the one Robert had roped her into helping at.
Jon was back in less than fifteen minutes and she recognised the scent of his cologne immediately. It was the same one he had worn for their date, and she wondered crazily if his choice this evening had been deliberate. He hadn’t shaved, his hair was still wet, and he was wearing worn jeans and an ice-blue shirt.
‘What shall I do?’ he asked briskly, looking from Charlie to Annie. He came and stood beside her, and she was certain he was only pretending to be interested in the food when she felt the brush of his arm against her shoulder.
‘DVD,’ Charlie said, glancing across to him. ‘Where is it?’
‘In the library. I’ll go get it.’
She heard the smile in Jon’s reply. Her face was flaming, and she was furious with herself for responding so foolishly to his simple gesture. The teenagers began to arrive a few minutes later, sidling into the kitchen in boisterous groups. They were laughing together, messaging constantly, their fingers and eyes seeming never to leave their phones. Annie tried to remember their names as Charlie introduced her, and one by one they nodded hi, helping themselves to the drinks Sam had already laid out. They settled around the table and sprawled across the sofas, making themselves at home as Jon reappeared.
Cara Dawson arrived with her gaggle of friends and Annie went over to say hello, noticing that, for all her indifference, Cara’s eyes spun round the room as she searched for somebody. But Nathan wasn’t there, and Annie wondered why not.
She tried to watch Jon surreptitiously as she tipped the curries into serving bowls. He wandered around, speaking to everybody, laughing, joking, listening as he topped up drinks and gathered everyone together. Soon afterwards, Nathan slipped in almost unnoticed and Annie immediately sensed that he had been waiting for everybody else to arrive first. When his eyes found hers briefly, she mouthed a hello to him. He nodded casually and looked away, sliding his hands into low-slung jeans pockets.
‘We’re just going to give thanks and then we’ll eat. Charlie?’ Jon looked across to Charlie and the group fell silent as Charlie spoke a blessing and Annie closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Jon was looking straight at her and she tore her gaze away, not wanting to understand whatever he was thinking.
‘Okay, let’s eat.’ Somehow there seemed to be just enough seats for everybody and when they were all hungrily devouring their food, Annie filled a plate and propped herself against the table.
Jon stood up and pointed to his chair. ‘You can sit here.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine, really.’
‘Annie, please, take my seat. I’m not sitting while you stand up.’ He made his way over to the table, and that was enough to make her go and sit down, feeling several pairs of eyes on her. Most people had finished already and were helping th
emselves to seconds, Jon included. He caught her eye and she glared at him, letting him know she didn’t appreciate being told what to do. His smile was so fleeting she almost thought she’d imagined it, turning to listen to Sam.
Once or twice she noticed some of the group talking with Nathan but each time he answered shortly and lapsed back into silence. Annie knew Jon was watching him, and she made sure to keep his plate loaded, trying to include him in the chatter. He sat as far away from Cara as possible, and Annie decided there really couldn’t be anything between them. Once dessert was finished, Annie insisted on clearing up while everyone else headed into the television room. Nathan stayed behind, shaking his head when Jon came to talk with him, and looked at Annie.
‘I’ll give you a hand.’ He stood up, carrying a pile of plates to the dishwasher. Surprised, Annie watched him as Jon paused in the doorway.
‘I can manage,’ she insisted to Nathan. ‘You go and watch the film.’
‘No thanks, seen it before.’
Jon disappeared, and even though she wished Nathan had gone to join the others to try and enjoy himself, she was glad of his help. She told him so as he dried all the dishes that had to be washed by hand.
He shrugged casually, giving her a quick glance. ‘I’m used to it.’
‘What do you mean?’ She knew she sounded curious as she refilled the sink with hot soapy water for the next heap of washing up.
‘I’ve got three younger brothers and my mum works full time as a nurse. I do the cooking when she’s not at home.’
It was quite different from her own childhood, but she recognised in his voice the pang of disappointment he tried to disguise and she gave him a smile that told him she understood what it meant to grow up before your time. ‘What do you like to cook?’
He glanced at her, surprised, as he considered the question. ‘Curry. It’s easy and my brothers like it.’ He grinned, lighting up his face as the wariness in his eyes disappeared. ‘But we still have a roast dinner on Sundays when Mum’s home. She makes the best Yorkshire pudding.’
