‘Well, I—’
‘There’s no denying it – you glow when you talk about music.’
She frowned.
‘You do. You really do.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but none of this is going anywhere.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Morton wants to work with me. He wants to produce my music.’
‘But that’s great,’ Laurence said. ‘Isn’t that what you want?’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Tilda – you love writing music, you love singing, you’ve proved yourself in the past, and now you’ve got a hungry young producer begging you to work with him. What’s holding you back?’
She looked at Laurence, his face serious as he tried to understand what was going on in her head. Should she give him a glimpse?
‘I know what happened to you,’ Laurence said when she didn’t answer him.
‘What do you know?’
‘I know about Manchester. I know what you did on stage.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I saw it on the Internet.’
‘Of course you did.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I had to find out.’
‘Blimey, Laurence. You’re the nosiest person I’ve ever met.’
‘It’s the worst thing about me – I have to know what’s going on with people.’
‘Don’t joke about this.’
‘I’m not joking. I’m just trying to understand. And I do – I really do. What happened to you was horrible. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to have been on that stage with that huge crowd—’
‘Don’t!’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘I’m never going to put myself in that situation again.’
‘But there must be another way.’
‘There is – teaching!’
‘No, I mean to go on singing and getting your music out there – without going up on stage. What about all those online channels like YouTube? Have you thought about doing anything like that?’
‘It’s still the public arena, Laurence. Have you seen some of the comments people leave online?’
‘I have and it can be pretty vitriolic, but there’s always something about a job that’s going to be disagreeable.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s all right for you to say that; you don’t get publically attacked in your job. You hide behind a computer.’
‘But you can too – surely? There must be a way of doing what you love without the need to perform in public.’
‘I’m sure there is, but—’
‘So it’s got to be worth a go. What does Morton say?’
‘I haven’t read all his messages properly yet.’
‘Then you should,’ Laurence said. ‘Promise me you will.’
She frowned. ‘Why are you so determined to make me do this?’
He grinned at her and she remembered why she was letting him get away with talking to her like this – because he was very cute.
‘You’ve got a great gift, Tilda. I wish I’d been born with one. If I had, perhaps I’d be doing something more exciting than sitting at a computer all day.’
‘But you like what you do, don’t you?’
‘Sure I do, but I’m not going to inspire applause or adulation,’ he said.
‘Those things are highly overrated,’ she told him. ‘Believe me.’
‘Maybe, but it pains me to see that you’re hurting because you can’t do the thing you love most in the world.’
‘How do you know I love it the most?’
He shrugged. ‘I can tell. When I watched you perform at that concert, you were so alive! I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You lit up the whole stadium. You can’t fake that.’
Tilda felt stunned by his words. Nobody had ever talked to her like this before. She’d had a lot of flattery from her manager, and some pretty scary adoration from fans, but that hadn’t seemed as real as this. Here, sitting on the sofa next to her, was an ordinary man who seemed to be able to see right into the centre of her being.
‘Speak to Morton. See what he’s got to say,’ he told her. ‘Go on! Don’t live to regret this, Tilda. Promise me you’ll ring him.’
Tilda felt faint at the merest prospect of getting in touch with Morton and starting things up again, but there was a tiny thread of excitement in her too and she found herself nodding.
‘I’ll get in touch with Morton,’ she told Laurence, noticing that he was still smiling at her and realising, perhaps for the first time, that she liked him smiling at her very much.
Vanessa had lain awake most of the night, staring up at the ceiling as the summer rain drummed on her bedroom window. She still hadn’t been able to believe what had happened in the garden and so got up to stare out of the window, the moon still brilliantly bright. Had that really happened, she wondered, touching her lips. Standing there by the window in the middle of the night, it all seemed so dreamlike, but the revelation that he’d wanted to kiss her for a long time made it very real.
And just how long had she been attracted to him, she asked herself now as she put her pencil down and pushed the pattern books to one side. She’d managed to put in a good hour’s work at her desk before Jonathan and his team were due, but she rose now and left her office and went straight out into the garden.
Jonathan had texted her as soon as he’d got in the night before.
Miss you, he’d written, and she’d messaged back: Miss you too.
She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl falling in love for the first time, which was silly really because she’d been a married woman for so long, but perhaps she’d thought she’d never get to feel like that again after Oliver’s death. She’d never expected to meet somebody else. When Oliver died, Vanessa had believed that the happiest years of her life were over. She still had her daughters and their futures to look forward to, but her own time for love and happiness had passed.
Until Jonathan.
There was just one little thought niggling at the back of her mind. He still hadn’t opened up about his past. His reaction to the bottle of wine she had brought to his home told her that he was clearly hiding something. Had he a history of addiction? Or was he teetotal for another reason? She really wanted to know but it was obvious that he wasn’t going to bring the subject up, and was it that important anyway? Vanessa was anxious about his past more from a trust point of view – that he trusted her enough to tell her about it – rather than simply knowing what had happened to him.
She picked up her pace as she neared the walled garden. She could hear the team before she saw them and, entering through the south gate, she saw them all setting up for the day ahead.
‘Hey!’ Jonathan called as soon as he saw her, putting down the box he was carrying and walking towards her.
‘Hi,’ she said, flashing him a smile. He was wearing a sky-blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tanned arms that she couldn’t help imagining around her. His red hair was bright in the morning sunshine and his smile made her feel as if she were floating.
‘You’re just in time. I was telling the team about our idea for the summer fete,’ he said.
‘What do they all think?’ Vanessa asked.
‘Well, Andy wasn’t really sure what a fete was, but when I said we’d be selling some of our produce, he was on board immediately. Of course, any money made will be going straight back into the project.’
‘You made that clear to him?’ Vanessa said.
‘Absolutely. And Oz said that he’ll only come if he can throw a wet sponge at the local vicar.’
‘What?’ Vanessa asked with a laugh.
‘Apparently, he’s got some grudge against the poor man.’
‘Well, we have been known to have wet sponge–throwing in the past, but I think poor Reverend Allsopp wouldn’t be up to it these days.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll tell Oz that he’s coming anyway.’ He leaned in towards her and whispe
red, ‘There’s something I want to tell you too.’
‘Yes?’ She waited, barely able to breathe.
‘Jonathan?’ Andy shouted from the other side of the walled garden. ‘What are we meant to do with this?’
Jonathan rolled his eyes and turned around. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ he told Andy.
‘What is it anyway?’ Andy called back.
‘It’s a cloche. Put it down before you damage it. No, don’t put it on your head! It’s not a traffic cone!’ He sighed and turned back to Vanessa.
‘What did you want to tell me?’
‘What’s a cloche?’ Andy called.
Jonathan sighed. ‘I think I’d better talk to you later.’
So Vanessa had to wait in agony as she worked in the walled garden with the team. She and Jonathan kept swapping little smiles, savouring the secret of their shared kisses in the porch but, each time they tried to get close to have a private word, someone would interrupt them. It was as if the team knew that something was going on between them. Maybe they did, Vanessa thought. Maybe they’d known long before she had.
It was as she was helping Jenna repot some tomatoes in the greenhouse that it became clear.
‘He likes you,’ Jenna said with a sniff.
‘Who?’
‘Jonathan of course!’
‘How do you know that?’
‘He’s always looking at you and he’s always talking about you when you’re not here.’
‘Is he?’
Jenna nodded. ‘Do you like him too? I think you do, but Oz says he thinks it’s that unreq—’ She stopped. ‘I don’t know the word he used.’
‘Unrequited?’
‘That’s it! What’s that mean?’
‘It means a love that isn’t returned,’ Vanessa explained.
‘That’s the one. Oz said you’re posh and that you’d never look at someone like Jonathan.’
Vanessa took a moment to take this in. ‘Is that what he said?’
‘I don’t believe him, though.’
‘You shouldn’t.’
‘So you do like him? I mean, like – you know – romantically?’
Vanessa paused with a tomato plant in her hand. What should she say? She hadn’t even told her own daughters yet, although they suspected something was going on, and it would be fun to share something with Jenna in this quiet, female time in the greenhouse with the two of them crouching over pots and growbags.
‘I like him,’ she said at last.
‘I knew it!’ Jenna said, punching the air.
‘Just keep it between us for now, all right?’
The girl nodded. ‘Our secret,’ she said with a wink.
‘So, is there anyone special in your life?’ Vanessa asked.
Jenna looked unsure for a moment. ‘Kind of.’
‘Kind of?’
‘It’s kind of on and off. More off than on really.’
‘And do you love him?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘I suppose, but he never sticks around for long. He flits about. I think he’s seeing somebody else.’
Vanessa frowned. ‘Why do you put up with that – a pretty girl like you?’
‘Me? Pretty?’ She laughed.
‘Of course.’
‘You must be confusing me with someone else.’
‘I’m looking at a young, attractive woman,’ Vanessa said, ‘who could do anything she wanted in life and have any man she set her heart on.’
Jenna’s eyes widened at this revelation and Vanessa thought that the girl was about to cry, but then she gave one of her little shrugs.
‘Nah!’ she said. ‘I’m just me, aren’t I?’
‘Vanessa?’
Vanessa and Jenna looked up to find Jonathan standing at the greenhouse door. ‘You got a minute? I need a hand with something.’
‘Sure,’ Vanessa said, standing up. Jenna gave her a wink, which Vanessa hoped Jonathan didn’t see.
She left the greenhouse, following him into the orchard.
‘So,’ she said a minute later, ‘what needs doing here?’
‘This,’ Jonathan said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.
‘Jonathan!’ she cried. ‘The team – they’ll see!’
‘They’re busy.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Nobody suspects a thing anyway.’
‘Except Jenna.’
‘What?’
‘She knows.’
‘You didn’t tell Jenna, did you?’
‘No, of course not! She guessed.’
‘How?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – because she’s got eyes and her head.’
‘But we haven’t said anything or—’
‘It’s all in the eyes apparently.’
Jonathan scratched his chin. ‘Good grief. They’re more observant than I give them credit for.’
‘We’ve got to be more careful.’
‘But the secret’s out now.’
‘Well, we don’t need to make an announcement or anything.’
‘You wouldn’t want to do that?’ Jonathan asked, head cocked to one side in a teasing manner. ‘Because I was thinking of painting a banner on the side of my van which says I’ve been kissing the lady of the manor!’
‘Stop calling me that!’ She play-punched him and he laughed. ‘Seriously, I’d like to keep this thing quiet.’
‘That’s okay,’ he said.
‘You’re all right with that?’
‘I’m fine with that. As long as it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I’m a lowly gardener.’
‘Jonathan – don’t even joke about something like that.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I really don’t care if we have to keep it a secret from the whole world forever. Just as long as I get to be with you.’
‘You know how to say all the right things, don’t you?’
He smiled and picked up her hands and squeezed them. ‘I hope so, because I want to make you happy.’
‘You do,’ she said, and they shared another kiss and then Vanessa remembered something. ‘Jenna was telling me a bit about her boyfriend.’
‘Carl? He’s bad news.’
‘Really?’
‘I tried to get him involved in our gardening team, but it was a waste of time.’
‘What does he do?’
‘As little as possible. I think he’s a dealer. He’s involved in some sort of criminal activity anyway.’ Jonathan sighed. ‘He’s violent too.’
‘Has he ever hurt Jenna?’ Vanessa asked in concern.
‘If he has, she’d deny it.’
‘What can we do?’
Jonathan reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘We give Jenna as much encouragement as we can to make better choices. It’s up to her whether she listens to us or not.’
Vanessa nodded, determined to play her part in helping this young woman.
‘Hey!’ she suddenly said. ‘What was it you wanted to tell me?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You said you wanted to tell me something. You know – before Andy interrupted you.’
‘Oh, right!’ Jonathan said with a light laugh, but then his face became more serious and he held her gaze. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.’
‘No?’
‘You kept me wide awake.’
‘I didn’t sleep much either.’
He nodded. ‘We’ve got a bad case of this, haven’t we?’
‘Very bad indeed,’ she said. ‘Now, let’s get back to work before we’re missed and everyone works out exactly what we’ve been doing!’
Since Laurence had persuaded her to open the files, Tilda had lost count of the number of times she’d listened to the tracks Morton had sent her. She felt as if she were getting to know this funny, passionate person all over again and she realised that she’d missed her friend since walking out on the music business. She missed their banter and their fooling around. It had been such an easy relationship between them but
it had come at a time that was far from easy for Tilda, and her friendship with Morton had been one of the sacrifices she’d made when she turned her back on her career and came home to brood. And she missed him. She could admit that now, after reading his emails and texts and listening to the tracks he’d put together, and she instinctively knew how much fun it would be to work with him. Certainly more fun than teaching the reluctant children of pushy parents how to play the piano or sing, that was for sure.
But getting in touch with Morton, responding to his messages, would start a whole chain of events she wouldn’t altogether be in charge of and that thought terrified her. Could she really allow herself to go through all that again – potentially put herself in a position which could so easily bring hurt and humiliation? Was her love of her music worth gambling on that again?
She reached for her phone, calling Morton’s mobile and hoping it would go to voicemail, but he answered it almost immediately.
‘Tilda?’ he said.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘You okay?’
‘Yes. Well, no. Not really. I’m – I’m not really sure.’
‘Oh. Sounds complicated.’
‘It is.’ She shook her head. She was messing this up already and she hadn’t even started.
‘Can I help you uncomplicate things?’ Morton asked after a moment. ‘Tilda? You still there?’
‘I’m still here,’ she said and she took a deep breath. It was, perhaps, the deepest breath she’d ever taken in her entire life. Her mouth was dry and her hand shaking, but when she spoke, it was with a clear and determined voice.
‘Morton?’
‘I’m still here.’
‘I think I’d like to work with you.’
Chapter 17
It was after lunchtime when Vanessa joined the team in the garden again. She left them to it for lunch, feeling that her presence might be intrusive even though Jonathan had assured her that it wouldn’t be. She figured they’d want to talk openly and freely without the ‘lady of the manor’ around. So she’d gone into the house, checked the messages on her answerphone, rung a client and fixed herself a sandwich. And that’s when Dolly had entered the kitchen.
Vanessa took a few deep breaths now as she walked into the walled garden.
‘Hey!’ Jonathan said in greeting. Then he frowned. ‘You okay?’ He peered closer at her. ‘You’re not, are you?’
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