“Tree hugger!” she blurted out with amusement.
“You must learn to control your anger, my Padawan learner.”
“Star Wars! Really? Maybe you’re not such a lost cause in the film department.”
I smiled at her reply. I’d heard James use the saying a number of times, but I wasn’t about to burst her bubble and tell her I’d never actually seen Star Wars.
I checked my watch as we made our way down the hill; it was just after 5.00 a.m. Dawn was just beginning to break, bringing a little more light on the situation. As we looked around where the deer were, I pointed in the distance in the direction of the still-retreating beasts. They must have heard us approaching. We were treated to the sight of the three of them dashing away.
Looking around in the dim light, I saw the top of my wellington boot sticking out of the nearby bog. Jamie must have followed my line of sight.
“Is that your–”
“Yes, it is,” I replied in a slightly clipped tone.
“So, this is where the infamous boot incident happened, is it?”
“It is, and I will get my vengeance on that damn bog,” I replied, a little more playfully.
She sniggered quietly as I continued to look wistfully at my lost boot.
“I’m glad to see you’re not letting it get to you.”
I sat down on the nearest log facing the blossoming sunrise, pulling the flask from my rucksack. “Can I tempt you with some hot chocolate?” I asked quietly.
“Oh, yes please. I think I might need to use the bush toilet first. I promise I won’t use your welly.”
“Good, because I plan on wearing it again someday. Not to mention that you would be in full view if you were to use it,” I continued as I poured out two cups of hot chocolate. I looked up to see Jamie had already retreated into the woods looking for the perfect spot. I sat back relaxing in the mildly warm sunshine of the new day. I’m not sure how long I was sat there but the next thing I heard was Jamie’s quiet voice expressing the expletive, “Shit!”
“Jamie? Where are you? Are you okay?” I asked, getting up to look for her.
“Uh … yep, no problem. I just tripped,” she replied a little sheepishly.
I spotted her coming back towards me; she looked awkward in her movement, both hands behind her back.
“What you got there?” I asked, indicating with my hand still holding my hot chocolate.
“Uhh, nothing … just your long-lost boot.”
She whipped the boot from behind her back. I could see the tideline of muddy gunk around the top. Her hands were equally filthy from retrieving it from the bog. Reluctantly, I took it from her, trying to hold it by its cleanest part.
“Thanks … I …” I hesitated. The weight of the boot seemed a bit off. “It’s heavy. What’s in there?” I asked as I tipped it upside down, releasing at least a foot’s worth of water and only water, thank God. “Great!” I said as I held the boot upside down at a funny angle to make sure I ejected all the water.
“Well, we did have quite a bit of rain the other night, but I’m sure it’ll dry out,” she said as she ferociously rubbed her hand together to get rid of the mud.
“I’m grateful it’s just water. Thanks. Here, have some hot chocolate,” I said, leading her back to the log. We sat there in silence for a few moments, both cuddling our plastic mugs of hot chocolate.
“Wow, that’s good hot chocolate,” she mumbled next to me.
I sniggered into my cup.
“Sorry, I start to ramble when I don’t get enough sleep.”
I knew that already from our first meeting in Manchester just a few weeks ago. “How come?”
“How come what?” She genuinely looked confused at my question.
“You didn’t get any sleep,” I clarified.
“Oh, well, I tried. I crashed out on the sofa for a bit, but then I woke up and started watching a film. Out of Sight. It’s a Steven Soderbergh film with George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez, where Clooney is a perpetual scam artist who breaks out of prison and Lopez is the federal marshal after him. It’s from an Elmore Leonard book, so the dialogue is pretty funny.”
“Yeah,” I said, remembering an Elmore Leonard book I had read a few years ago.
“I think she made a big mistake giving up acting for singing. She was really good in that film.”
I couldn’t recall seeing Jennifer Lopez in any film; I thought she was just a singer and not an actress at all. Well not just; I’m sure she’s very good at what she does. It’s just not my thing. I wasn’t about to share my continued lack of knowledge with Jamie. She already thought I was a media luddite. “I’m not sure she’d agree with you considering how it’s turned out for her.”
“I guess,” she replied, suppressing a yawn. I figured I was boring her again, so I tried to demonstrate my ability to read beyond textbooks and academic journals.
“I read one of his books ages ago … Umm, it was about an arms dealer. They made it into a film with the flight attendant …”
“Jackie Brown.”
“That’s the one, but the book was called Rum Punch I think. Very funny.”
“He’s another one that’s dead,” she replied very matter-of-factly.
“Is he?” I was once again amazed by her knowledge of dead people.
“Yep, a few years ago.”
I smiled to myself, wondering if he was part of another threesome of dead celebrities, as I finished my hot chocolate.
Arriving back at Jamie’s, I looked at the dash clock; it was almost 6.00 a.m. and fully light now. I figured I could get a few hours’ sleep before getting back to Bonnington Hall. I turned to see Jamie rubbing the sleep from her eyes after cat napping on our way back. She looked a little embarrassed as she met my eyes; I replied with a warm smile. I was definitely warming to Jamie Buxton and I suspected she felt the same way, too.
“Thanks for taking me with you tonight … this morning,” Jamie said as she reached for the door handle.
“That’s okay. It was … eventful.”
“Oh yeah.” She grinned to herself. “I wondered if you’d like to come round for dinner one night maybe, to say thanks.”
“Uh, yeah, that would be lovely, actually.” I was pretty sick of eating in my room on my own. Hotel rooms and room service are no substitute for your own familiar surroundings.
“Great! I’ll call you to, er, set it up.”
“Okay.” I giggled at her sleepy manner. “I think you might need to get some sleep.”
“Umm.”
I waited till she had opened her front door before I prepared to leave, returning her wave before she disappeared from sight.
Chapter 5
Arriving on-site the following day, I was greeted with more evil glares from Lucy. She had obviously heard about my night walk with Jamie. I really couldn’t understand her problem. She had never shown any interest in me before and I certainly didn’t feel I’d encouraged her in any way. After her outburst the other day I had already decided that if it continued I’d reluctantly have to discuss it with James. I really didn’t want to as it made me feel like I couldn’t cope, but I had a feeling it was only going to get worse if it wasn’t dealt with. James would obviously be in a better position to iron out this problem, as I was the target for her anger at the moment.
Taking a seat at the table in the main tent, I planned to update our satellite maps with the data we had collected so far. My arrival made the stragglers decide it was time to be out in the field, except Lucy, who chose to tidy the makeshift kitchen that was set up on one side of the tent. I listened to her thrash about with the crockery and cutlery while I set up my computer. It felt like she was revving herself up before she could speak to me.
“So, did you spot any wildlife on your night walk?” Her tone was tense and angry as she almost spat out the words in my direction. Her emphasis on ‘wildlife’ baffled me a little, unless she considered Jamie wildlife. I turned slightly to face her, deciding to keep my ton
e even.
“Umm, we saw a group of roe dear at the bottom of the meadow, that’s about it.”
“I’d like to have gone with you if I’d known.”
“You could ask Mike; he knows the best places to go.”
“I would rather go with you. I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two.” Her tone was suggestive.
I turned to face her; it was time to take the bull by the horns. “Lucy, I have worked with you for some time now; I see you as a colleague and friend, but nothing more than that. I’m sorry.”
Lucy was just about to launch into another tirade as Mike appeared around the side of the tent.
“Hey, Robin. I …” He stopped midsentence, taking in the scene. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure.” I hoped my firm eye contact told him not to dash off. “What can I do for you?”
“Er … I just wanted to check the plant routes you’ve decided on across the site.”
Thankfully that was Lucy’s cue to split, leaving me in peace to work. I looked up from my laptop at the sound of tyres crushing over the gravel on the drive. A few minutes later, I heard movement around the side of the tent as Jamie appeared.
“Morning.”
Is that all it was? I checked my watch for confirmation. 11.48 a.m., just. “Morning.” It felt so much later in the day considering what I had already dealt with in the last few hours.
“So, have you recovered from the other night?”
“I think so. I took most of the day off to sleep.”
“It’s alright for some,” I replied a little jealously. I hadn’t managed to get any sleep before starting work the previous day, mainly due to the fact that I couldn’t shut down my brain long enough to drop off. My continued replaying of conversations with Jamie had prevented that. I couldn’t work out why she affected me so much. I had, of course, been attracted to women before but never to the extent that it prevented me from sleeping. I was generally in control of the situation, with the ability to keep people at arm’s length, able to walk away without looking back. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do that if anything did develop with Jamie. Every time I shut my eyes all I could see was Jamie’s warm smile. I dreamt of touching her face, tracing the outline of her lips with my fingers. Now she was right in front of me and my mind was contemplating just how soft her lips were.
“Anyway, I wondered if you’d like to come around for that dinner I promised, tonight if you’re free.”
“Ah, yeah, that would be lovely.”
“Great! Is there anything you can’t eat or don’t like?”
“Tripe and liver,” I replied quickly. “I’m not keen on eating someone else’s internal organs.”
Her laughter was loud confined in the tent. “Okay, not a fan of Hannibal Lecter, good to know.”
“Did Mike ask about us being up here the other night?”
Her conspiratorial tone and brisk change of subject made me turn, giving her my full attention. “He, umm, asked me in passing yesterday afternoon when we were having lunch if we’d seen anything.”
“What did you say? We heard some funny grunting but couldn’t work out where it was coming from?”
I chuckled at her words before speaking. “I managed to refrain from saying those exact words. Instead, I decided to tell him about the roe deer eating the brambles.”
“Chicken!”
Her words ended with a wide smile. I liked the fact we had shared inside information, shared experience. It made me feel closer to her and I liked the thought of that.
“Really? And did you speak to Pete lately about our night visit out here?”
“I might have mentioned it in passing, just to see his reaction.”
“And?” I asked with a little too much glee.
“He looked a little freaked to say the least, so I left it at that.”
“So, I’m not the only chicken then.”
“I guess not.”
“So, what time shall I come round?”
“About seven.”
“Okay, I’ll pick up some wine.”
“Great.”
“See you later.” I watched her walk off towards her car while I continued to contemplate exactly where this was going. There was definitely a mutual attraction there, but where this was heading I really couldn’t say.
Chapter 6
I left the work site a little early to get scrubbed up ready for dinner, picking up bottles of red and white wine on my way back to the hotel. Standing in the shower, I considered the various scenarios for the evening ahead. There was obviously a mutual attraction between us; it felt like she was doing all the running right now and as weird as it was, I quite liked the feeling of being chased. The fact that we had to work together obviously could be an issue; I had never got involved with a work colleague before. Most of our clients, whether corporate or private, were male with more male co-workers. Unfortunately, it was still pretty rare to meet women clients or women in decision-making management roles. Most of the women I had dated so far didn’t move in those circles anyway; meat-market nightclubs and bars tended to be filled with women with slightly less business acumen.
I arrived at Jamie’s a little after 7.00 p.m., not wanting to seem too eager. The aroma that wafted over me as she opened the door was mouth-watering after a long day on-site.
“Hey, perfect timing!”
“I aim to please. I brought wine,” I said, lifting up both bottles for inspection. “I wasn’t sure which one so I bought both.”
“Great.” Taking both bottles, she scanned the labels before continuing, “Red for tonight I think.”
I followed her down the tiled hallway towards the kitchen. She had changed into casual jeans and a long-sleeved, red t-shirt. She stopped me before I reached the kitchen, handing me back the bottle of red wine.
“Would you open this? The glasses are on the table.” She indicated to the doorway on our right with the bottle.
“Sure.”
The dining room was bright from the large window facing the garden. The walls were painted a light mocha colour and an oblong table was covered with a complementary, dark-brown tablecloth, neatly laid. Undoing the wine, I poured myself a small glass and Jamie a generous one.
Jamie joined me a few moments later carrying two large white bowls, one brimming with lettuce the other filled with slices of crusty bread.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved. What are we having?”
“Spaghetti bolognaise. I hope that’s okay.” She picked up her glass, taking a small drink.
Could she have made anything messier to eat? All I could think about was pasta sauce dripping off my chin. I scanned the table again. Thank God there were serviettes on hand.
“Perfect. Can I do anything to help?” I replied.
I saw a small smile appear at my words. “Nope, nothing except making yourself comfortable.”
I took a seat on the opposite side of the table away from the doorway. The dining room was in keeping with the hallway. I admired a large cast-iron fireplace on the party wall; the alcoves either side had built-in glass-fronted cupboards stripped back to their natural wood. A picture rail circled the top of the room, supporting a number of framed prints.
She returned with a cast-iron pot of bolognaise in one hand and a bowl of spaghetti in the other, placing them both on large cork mats. She sat at the end of the table facing out into the garden.
“Please, help yourself,” she said, indicating the food with her hands.
I went to work, quickly covering my plate with a large pile of spaghetti. Using my fork, I made a hole in the middle for the sauce. It was good, very good. I was engrossed in the enjoyment of the food when she spoke.
“I was thinking about that conversation we had about dead celebrities the other night.”
I wiped my mouth with the nearest serviette, which I’m sure was framed with orange sauce by now. “Yeah,” I replied, even though, as I recalled, it was a one-sided conversation she ha
d instigated.
“It’s weird how some people have really distinctive voices; you know who they are without even seeing them. You just need to hear them speak to know who they are.”
Okay, I’ll bite. “Like who?” I asked.
“Well, the other day I was working on my laptop while watching Seven Psychopaths. Have you seen it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I was facing away from the screen, but I knew instantly when Christopher Walken started talking compared to the other actors. He’s got such a characteristic voice and the way he talks is very distinctive.”
I smiled at her obvious love of film. “Umm, what about James Mason?” I said, trying to join in.
“Ohh! North by Northwest. I love Hitchcock films.” Her eyes seemed to light up at my words.
“Really? Me too.” Something else we had in common. “So how come you didn’t study film at university rather than history?”
“Umm, well I guess at the time I wasn’t as interested in film as I am now. If I were to go to uni now I might be tempted, but …”
I watched her take a drink of wine before she continued.
“I really like my job and I can’t imagine doing anything else, and this way I still get to enjoy all the films I want without having to think too much.”
I could totally understand where she was coming from. I wondered how rare it was for two people in the same room to enjoy their jobs to the extent that we obviously both did.
“I can’t think of any foreign actors that have distinctive voices when they talk in their own native languages,” Jamie said.
“Uh, no, me neither,” I replied, trying to sound contemplative as I concentrated on twisting the last of my pasta around my fork. Definitely one to mull over; I made a promise to myself to try and think of at least one distinctively voiced foreign actor to impress her with.
“That was lovely. Just what the doctor ordered,” I said, as I wiped the last of the sauce from my lips. I looked up to see her wide-eyed expression and scanned her plate; it was still half full.
Out of The Blue Page 5
