Summer at The Little Duck Pond Cafe: A gorgeous, heart-warming story of love and new beginnings

by Rosie Green

  But it’s clear neither Jules nor Titch know anything about my clash with Pauline, so I finally allow myself to relax. I’ve been worried ever since that horrible scene at the manor on Saturday that the whole of Palmerston will now be talking about me and my new job here. But I’ve obviously been blowing it out of all proportion.

  After that, I have a wonderful time with Titch, Jules and Chloe.

  Titch seems happy. When I arrive, she catches my hand and immediately starts chattering away, telling me all about the new swimming pool that’s just opened in Palmerston. Jules apparently took her and Chloe there at the weekend and she can’t stop talking about it. She loves swimming almost more than horses and my heart expands with love to hear her so happy and relaxed, with not a care in the world.

  The way a child her age should be.

  Only once do I feel uneasy. We’re sitting round Jules’s kitchen table eating pizza and Titch says, ‘Daddy let me stay up late last night and we watched Frozen. I like him better when he doesn’t get all drunk.’ The look that passes between Jules and me speaks volumes.

  It’s a wrench to have to leave.

  The worst times are when Titch clings to me and begs me to stay, and I have to put on a cheerful smile and tell her a week will fly by and I’ll be back before she knows it.

  Today, though, she’s laughing with Jules and Chloe, and they’re all waving madly as I drive away, which makes my heart swell with something like happiness.

  *****

  The following Saturday, I’m at the manor bright and early for a ten o’clock tour.

  More and more people are finding out about the manor being open to the public and wanting to book, which means we’re having to squeeze in more sessions.

  The morning tours go well. As it’s such a gorgeous sunny day, I take my unch and sit outside on the grass by my favourite horse chestnut tree.

  As I’m munching my apple, I lean back against the trunk of the tree and hitch up my skirt slightly so that my bare legs can get some sun – and a man who’s passing by gives me an appreciative look and winks. ‘I’m Alan. You’ve got a nice spot there,’ he says. ‘I think I might join you.’

  I stare at him in dismay as he pulls in his stomach, strokes his grey goatie beard, and prepares to sit down on the grass next to me. He looks old enough to be my dad, but that’s not the point. It’s the lecherous look he’s giving me that makes me instantly desperate to escape.

  ‘You’re welcome to sit down but I’m afraid I have to go.’ I give him a cool smile and glance at my watch. It’s time I was heading indoors anyway. Gathering my things, I rise and brush off my skirt then start walking away.

  ‘You’ve forgotten your phone.’

  I turn. The man called Alan is holding my mobile aloft and giving me a flirty look. Instead of meeting me half way, he stands there and makes me walk over to collect it. Then he gives me a sleezy wink and says, ‘If you change your mind, I’m a barman at The Feathers.’ He slips an arm around my waist.

  ‘I won’t change my mind.’ I try to squirm away but it’s proving difficult. He’s got a very firm grasp.

  Then suddenly I hear, ‘Jaz, darling? I’ve been thinking about you all morning! Sorry I’m late.’

  Both Alan and I swing round in the direction of the voice. Harry is walking across the grass towards us.

  He totally ignores Alan, who immediately lets go of me and steps back. Then he pulls me roughly against him and manoeuvres me back against the tree, where he proceeds to crush my mouth with his, kissing me so thoroughly, I actually see stars. My token protest lasts for roughly three seconds before I surrender once again to the overwhelmingly delicious sensations surging through my body.

  The kiss is endless and I’m not complaining. Even if I wanted to, I’m actually too weak to protest. In fact, pretty soon the entire manor house and nine acres of parkland have all but vanished from my consciousness.

  Which is why it’s a bit of a shock when Harry suddenly pulls away slightly and pants, ‘Has he gone yet?’

  I glance over and see Alan, hands in pockets, disappearing into the manor. ‘Er, no, still here.’ My mouth lands on Harry’s again with even more urgency than before. Only when a couple of crows start bickering in the tree overhead do we finally break apart. Gasping, I stagger slightly and Harry grabs my arms and directs his knee-trembler smile at me.

  ‘I saw him pestering you,’ he says. ‘I thought you probably needed rescuing.’

  ‘Sorry, who?’ I murmur, staring into Harry’s gorgeous green, still blissed out from that scorching kiss.

  His beautiful mouth twists in a smile. ‘That bloke.’

  Oh, Alan. Horrible letch. My heart sinks and my elation at what just happened seeps away like air out of a balloon. I even feel like making the funny farting sound it makes because for some reason, I suddenly feel very much like blowing grumpy raspberries.

  It was a rescue kiss. A pity snog.

  That’s all it was to Harry.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ I say stiffly, and he nods.

  ‘You’re most welcome, Georgiana.’

  ‘You don’t need to call me that now!’ I snap.

  ‘Oh, right. Are we back to Jaz, then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Giving my hair an angry flick or two, I head for the door.

  ‘Er, Jaz?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I meant it about the wining and dining. If you’re up for it.’

  I stare at him. Did Harry just ask me out?

  My heart starts racing like a mad thing. Does that mean the kiss was real? He really does fancy me?

  ‘You don’t need to say yes right away.’ He shrugs, looking suddenly cutely vulnerable. ‘You can go away and think about it.’

  I curl my mouth up at the edges to hide the fact that I’m so stunned at what just happened – the kiss and everything else.

  ‘I will. I’ll – um – definitely think about it.’

  He shrugs as if it’s no big deal, back to his usual laid-back self. ‘Great. See ya, Jaz.’

  *****

  I still can’t believe I kissed Harry.

  Even more bewildering is remembering how much I enjoyed it and wanted it to go on forever. Because seriously, if those birds hadn’t started making that racket over our heads, goodness knows what would have happened.

  Every time I think about Harry and me together, it becomes unbearably hot in the room and I have to shed a layer of clothing.

  Should I say yes to a date with him?

  Part of me really, really wants to because I need to explore this thing between us. (Is it just lust? Or something more?)

  But another part of me is scared witless. When I first knew Grant, he made me laugh all the time with his daft jokes and I thought he was the most laid-back, charming man I’d ever met. It was only when I moved in with him that I realised there was a whole other darker side to his personality.

  What if it’s the same with Harry?

  I go to bed but don’t get much sleep because all these conflicting thoughts are going round and round in my head.

  I wake up feeling a bit bruised and battered, as if I dropped off about five minutes before the alarm went off. But I’m strangely energised at the same time. Luckily, it’s a zumba class at nine-thirty today, which should wake me up. Yoga would have sent me right back to sleep.

  I get into my work-out gear, eat some healthy home-made muesli and arrive at the studio with ten minutes to spare. Just enough to get the music going and welcome people to the class. I know them all now to chat to. There’s a core group of five who turn up to every class and quite a few women who enjoy the class but aren’t quite so disciplined about it.

  Just as we’re getting started, I catch my reflection in the mirror and grimace. With no time for make-up, I look ghostly pale and knackered! If Harry were to see me now, there’d be no repeat of yesterday’s kiss, that’s for sure.

  I tighten my ponytail and turn to begin the warm-up session.

  ‘Right,
ladies, let’s get started! Grab yourselves a mat and . . .’ I tail off, staring at a new member I haven’t seen before.

  Harry?

  He gives me a sheepish grin and raises his hand in greeting.

  A blush whooshes up my neck and into my cheeks, which to be fair is actually quite fortuitous because at least I no longer look as if I died during the night.

  ‘Harry. Hello. Welcome.’ He looks disturbingly gorgeous in his white shorts and black vest, muscles on display in all the right places . . .

  Normally, I can take the class standing on my head, without having to think about it at all. But with Harry throwing himself whole-heartedly into the routine and gyrating his hips along with the rest, I’m finding my moves are far from slick. In fact, I’m downright clumsy – plus on more than one occasion, I actually forget what comes next in the routine and my regulars have to remind me.

  I’m so relieved when it’s over.

  ‘Great class, Jaz!’ says Sheila, who’s a regular. ‘See you next time!’

  ‘Thank you, ladies! Enjoy the rest of your day!’ I wave them off but Harry lingers.

  ‘Hope you didn’t mind me turning up like this,’ he says, running a towel over his hair. ‘I was intrigued. I’ve heard about zumba – my sister does it a lot – but I have to say, I didn’t think it would be quite such a great work-out.’

  I smile at him, horribly conscious of my lank hair in the far from flattering ponytail. ‘Yes, I suppose you get out of it what you’re prepared to put in. I love it.’

  I busy myself packing my stuff into my sports bag and hunkering down to fiddle with the music.

  ‘I had another reason for coming along – other than curiosity about zumba,’ Harry says.

  ‘Oh, right. Did you want to find out about the yoga classes?’

  I glance up, shaking my sweaty fringe out of my eyes, and he’s gazing down at me, a heart-stopping smile on his face. ‘That would be good, yes,’ he murmurs. ‘But I actually wanted to ask if you’d thought about the wining and dining thing.’ He shrugs. ‘I mean, if you’d decided it might be something you wanted to do?’

  My heart lurches.

  I’ve spent quite a lot of time thinking about the wining and dining thing. Quite a disproportionately large amount of time, if I’m honest. But I didn’t actually think he was that serious. I thought it was just a spur of the moment thing that he might forget about later.

  I stand up and look him properly in the eye for the first time since he arrived at the class. ‘I’d like the wining and dining thing,’ I tell him solemnly. ‘Very much.’

  Harry’s face breaks into a smile. ‘Phew. Thank God. Always hated asking girls out. I usually wait for them to do the asking.’

  I grin shyly. ‘But this time, you didn’t.’

  ‘If I’d hung around hoping you might do the honours, I think I’d have been hanging for longer than a brace of pheasant in the shooting season.’

  ‘Fair point.’

  We look at each other and start to laugh.

  ‘So what about tonight?’

  Excitement curls inside me. I haven’t been on a date in forever. I thought all the drama with Grant had turned me off relationships for good, but looking up at Harry now, my heart is racing off the scale.

  ‘Obviously I’ll have to check my diary.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘But I have a feeling I’m free, so yes, I’d love to - ’

  The shrill sound of my mobile cuts into this lovely moment. Jules’s name flashes up on the screen.

  Jules doesn’t tend to phone me just for a chat – for this very reason; she knows I’ll panic.

  ‘Jules? Is something wrong?’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Driving back to Palmerston, my heart is in my mouth all the way.

  The conversation I had with Jules was unsettling, to say the least.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if I should phone you,’ she said, sounding far away, ‘but I asked myself if I would want to know – and the answer was yes.’

  ‘Go on.’ I held my breath.

  ‘I think Grant is drinking again.’

  I sink down on the nearest chair. ‘Did Titch tell you this? Is that how you know?’

  ‘Well, not exactly. Grant phoned me this morning, saying he had an early meeting and could I pick up Titch and take her to the child minder. So I offered to look after her myself. But when I arrived at the house he seemed as if he was still drunk from the night before. He was trying too hard to form his words and he definitely didn’t look as if he was preparing for a meeting.’

  ‘How was Titch? When you picked her up?’

  ‘Fine. A bit quiet but she’d only just got up.’ She pauses for so long, I start to think we’ve been cut off. Then she sighs and starts speaking quickly. ‘Anyway, when we got home, I started chatting to Titch about nothing in particular, hoping she might tell me something. And she asked if she could make some pancakes. So I said I’d make them for her but she insisted she could do it herself. And I quote: “I made cheese on toast myself last night. I lit the grill and everything and it only burned a little bit”.’

  ‘What?’ A surge of panic rushes through me.

  ‘So then I asked if she made the toast with Daddy?’ There’s another pause.

  ‘And?’ I hardly dare ask.

  ‘Well, bless her, she said no, because she couldn’t wake Daddy up, so after she made the cheese on toast, she put a blanket over him and got herself ready for bed.’

  ‘Oh my God. He didn’t even wake up when she burned the toast?’ I reach for my car keys. ‘I’m coming over.’

  ‘I get the feeling he’s been back on the drink for a while but Titch has kept it quiet.’

  ‘Look, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ I can’t bear to think of Titch being left to fend for herself – and then not even telling anyone!

  I hang up and turn to Harry, who’s obviously heard my side of the conversation. ‘I think we’re going to have to - ’

  ‘Take a rain check on the wining and dining thing?’ He shrugs. ‘Of course. You need to go.’

  I nod apologetically, pick up my bag and head for the door.

  ‘If I can do anything, let me know,’ he calls, and I shout my thanks and head for the car.

  I’m imagining all kinds of horror as I drive the fifty miles to Palmerston, but when I arrive at Jules’ house, I’m greeted by just a normal domestic scene. Jules is ironing in the living room while Titch and Chloe are having a tea party with their dolls.

  Titch looks up and beams when I come in but she doesn’t interrupt her play to run and hug me like she usually does. This calms me down. If she’d been feeling in any way vulnerable, she’d have clung to me, surely?

  As soon as I get the chance, however, I ask her to come into the kitchen to help me make hot chocolate for everyone.

  ‘I hear you made supper all by yourself last night,’ I say carefully.

  ‘Cheese on toast,’ she tells me proudly. ‘I got it right except it burned a bit at the edges.’

  ‘That’s so clever of you, but perhaps next time, you should wait until Daddy can help you? You know there’s a rule that you don’t - ’

  ‘Use the oven by myself,’ she jumps in. ‘I know, Jaz, but when I got hungry, Daddy was in his study and he was really busy. When I went in, he got a surprise and he knocked a bottle off the desk and it smashed all over the floor. He wouldn’t let me help clear up because he said I might cut myself on the glass.’

  ‘Are there a lot of bottles in the recycling bin in the kitchen?’

  ‘Yes. I bumped into it when I was riding my scooter and it made a big clanking noise. Daddy keeps saying he’s going to take them away but he hasn’t yet.’

  I swallow. So Jules is right. He’s been back on the booze for a while.

  ‘You were scooting in the kitchen?’ I grab her and start tickling her, and she shrieks with delight. ‘I’m not sure your daddy would like you doing that!’

  ‘He never sees me!’
she gasps between giggles, as I continue the tickling torture. ‘He’s always in his study or asleep on the sofa.’

  When we’re sitting at the table, drinking our hot chocolate, I take her hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Daddy was drinking whisky again when he promised he wouldn’t?’

  She stares at me, her big blue eyes welling up. ‘Because I knew it would make you sad if you knew,’ she says at last. Her face crumples and she starts crying.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart!’ I gather her into a hug and we cling tightly to each other for a long time.

  I have to leave after lunch to get back for my yoga class at three. But before I go, Jules and I chat over a coffee in the kitchen and she promises to keep a firm eye on the situation and to call me if she’s worried.

  I’m a bundle of anxiety by this time, and I’m all for taking Titch away with me and disappearing somewhere Grant will never find us. But Jules says with perfect logic, ‘Grant’s her dad. He has rights. You don’t. And you know what he’s like. If you try to get social services involved, he’ll just say you’re lying and be charming as you like.’ She reaches across the table for my hand. ‘You’re in a pretty shit situation, love. All you can do is keep being there for Titch, watching from the sidelines. And I’ll be your eyes and ears when you’re not around.’

  I smile at her. ‘God, Jules, what the hell would I do without you? You have to know how bloody eternally grateful I am for what you do for us.’

  She gets up and comes over to hug me. ‘You’d do the same for me.’

  I slip upstairs to say goodbye to Titch and Chloe. They’re playing in Chloe’s bedroom.

  I’m about to go in when I hear Titch talking in the grown-up voice she uses when she’s speaking to her doll.

  ‘Now, Dora, you have to promise me you won’t worry about silly daddy. Because Jaz says she’s going to look after us and she’ll always be there. So you see, everything is going to be all right.’

  I stand behind the door with a huge lump in my throat.

  It’s a while before I can regain enough composure to go in and face the girls.

  *****