Wednesday's Child

Home > Other > Wednesday's Child > Page 2
Wednesday's Child Page 2

by Clare Revell


  I hope I wasn’t too rude to him, even if he did deserve it. She pulled herself up short. No one deserved any degree of rudeness, no matter what they’d done. Even if they had ruined both five weeks work and her laptop in one foul swoop.

  Jacqui closed her eyes, seeing him again in her mind’s eye. His tight white shirt, with the three buttons undone, didn’t do a very good job hiding the perfect abs and broad shoulders beneath it. And his slacks emphasized a trim waist and hips. Never mind the intoxicating waft of cologne she detected as he leaned over her. He had a thick silver chain around his left wrist, peeking from under his shirt sleeve. And he was handsome...she’d never found beards particularly attractive on a man, but his…

  She shook her head and massaged her temples. All men were the same and she didn’t want or need another one in her life. That’s enough. Think of something else, like how to fix the mess you are in right now.

  There was a backup file on the office computer—but she didn’t have time to drive all the way into Wokingham and back again. If someone could bring her that and a spare laptop she could still run her presentation. Jacqui pulled her phone from her bag. At least that hadn’t been on the table during the flood. She dialed the office, hoping someone would be there.

  Relief flooded her as the phone clicked. “Jekyll Foundation, Eve Myers speaking.”

  “Hey, Eve, it’s Jacqui. Sorry to bother you, but I had a slight accident with the presentation.”

  “What happened? Are you all right?”

  “I made the mistake of stopping for lunch and had it on the table for a final check. Some bloke spilled water over the laptop and the papers. The laptop’s fried, no make that drowned as there’s water dripping from it, and the papers soaked. I don’t suppose you have time to bring a spare over?”

  “No, but for you I’ll make an exception.”

  Jacqui smiled. Thank You, Lord, for friends like Eve. “Thank you. I could hug you. The folder containing the files I need is on my office computer. It’s called Head Sec. I’ll have to find a printer here for more printouts, but…”

  “Rubbish. Even if you find a local printer, it will cost you a fortune at five pence a sheet. It won’t take long for me to print more off. How many copies do you need?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Jacqui did a quick mental count. “Twenty should do it. It’s a three page document called Head Sec dot doc. It should be in the same folder. Are you sure?”

  “Don’t argue or I might change my mind. Where are you?”

  “Headley Cross. Where else would I be?” She glanced up as the café manager appeared with a pile of tea towels and cloths. “Thank you.”

  The manager knelt and dealt with the floor.

  “You know what I mean,” her friend chided. “Headley Cross may be small, but it’s a town of over two thousand people. Where in Headley Cross?” Eve’s voice was no longer tinged with concern. It was full on mother-hen mode. Just what she didn’t need.

  People moved and chatted around her. Cutlery chinked and conversations rose and fell. Grateful she was no longer the center of attention, Jacqui grabbed another tea towel. “Right now I’m clearing up the mess he made. He offered to help, but I didn’t want him to. By the time you get here, I’ll be sitting outside Coronation Hall. It’s on the main road behind the precinct. You can also park for free for twenty minutes there.”

  “Cool—my kind of car park. All right, it’s printing and collating, now. Give me thirty minutes at the most and I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Eve. You’re a life saver.” Jacqui hung up and put away her phone. She looked at the manager. “I am so sorry about this.”

  “Its fine, not your fault as we saw what happened. Do you want another meal to replace that one?”

  She paused to look at her plate. Her cheese and tomato sandwich was swimming in a sea of water. A broken yellow carnation sat on top like some kind of crown. “No, thank you.”

  “Let me at least get you a refund. I insist.”

  Not wanting a refund, but wanting a fuss even less, Jacqui agreed. “OK, thank you.”

  As he vanished behind the counter, she cleared up the rest of the mess. Scrunching up the napkins, she tossed them onto her plate. Folding the sodden papers, she left them on the plate as well. She shut the defunct laptop and not wanting to ruin its case as well, tucked it under her arm. She headed outside into the sunshine, without waiting for the manager to return with her refund.

  A landscape architect working for the Jekyll Foundation, Jacqui couldn’t afford to lose this tender. She wouldn’t go as far as to say her whole career hinged on it, but it was the first time the Foundation had trusted her to prepare and present a proposal on her own.

  Crossing the courtyard, she found a huge, twisted oak tree that provided shelter from the sun. Her favorite of all trees, it set her imagination ablaze with thoughts of all the ancient gnarled oak had seen in its long life. Battles, lover’s trysts, maybe even royalty passing. When this magnificent tree was a sapling, Henry VIII was king.

  She pulled a band from her pocket and twisted her hair up in a ponytail. She hadn’t expected the day to turn out so hot. Most unusual for England, they were having a spring heat wave, bringing the ducklings and flowers out early.

  A raised circular bed of yellow daffodils interspersed with red and orange tulips waved in the breeze. Bluebells filled the grass as far as her eyes could see and by her feet, yellow primroses and white snowdrops peeked through the earth around the base of the tree. No matter how good she or the others were at mixing flowers and colors, God always did it so much better.

  A family of swans and cygnets glided along the tranquil water under the bridge. Her fingers smoothed over the gold cross around her neck, the last gift from her parents. She never took it off, clinging to the final link with them. Her gaze followed the swans. Family was something she didn’t have. Although she dreamed about meeting the perfect man, she didn’t expect to find him any time soon.

  Her mind went back to the guy who knocked over the flowers. Hopefully the laptop was going to be all right. She didn’t want to have any more contact with this Mr. Page than was absolutely necessary, no matter how attractive he was. Flipping up the laptop, and hoping she wouldn’t get electrocuted, she tried starting it again.

  Nothing. It wouldn’t even boot up. The black screen stared mockingly at her. Her lap got damper. She sighed. She wished she could have asked for a change of clothes as well. She zipped the laptop into the case, forgetting about saving the case. It would dry out a lot easier than the computer and her clothes needed to dry.

  “Hey.” The voice of her colleague cut through her thoughts.

  Jacqui looked up and managed a faint smile as Eve plumped down on the bench beside her. “Hi, Eve.”

  “You look like the world just ended, or you lost a shilling and found a penny.”

  “My grandmother used to say that. But it may as well have.”

  “So what happened? Other than some guy spilling his water all over your work, that is.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t his water. It was a whole vase of flowers.”

  “I’ve heard of ‘say it with flowers’, but that’s ridiculous.”

  Jacqui scowled. “To add insult to injury, the carnations were dyed green, and you know how much I hate florists faking the color in flowers, by soaking them in food coloring. But as far as the laptop is concerned, it won’t even boot up no matter how much I try. I’m sorry.”

  Eve held up another case. “No problem. It’s hardly your fault. I brought another. I loaded your files on it, plus put a USB pen in as back up. I also put thirty copies of your print outs in there. I know you said twenty, but figured a few extra wouldn’t hurt.”

  Jacqui smiled and swapped the case for one containing the damaged computer. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”

  “You can bring doughnuts to work for coffee break for the rest of the week.” Eve crossed one leg over the other. “So, what’s he like? This mystery man who’s
got you all worked up and hot under the collar.”

  Jacqui took a deep breath. “He’s tall, has dark hair, a beard, brown eyes, and an Irish accent. He looks a bit like a movie star and scores an eight on the hunk rating.”

  Her friend snorted. “You managed to take all that in as he knocked a vase of carnations on your laptop? You got it bad, girl.”

  Jacqui pulled a face. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing. “The guy left me his name and number and offered to pay to get the computer fixed.”

  “Did he? That was good of him. It may be fine once it’s dried out. You never know your luck.”

  “I don’t do luck.”

  “This time you may need it. I’ll get the I.T. guy to take a look at it this afternoon. If you give me his card, I can ring this guy if we need it fixed.”

  “Sure I have it somewhere. Uh...” Jacqui fumbled for the napkin in her pockets, and then closed her eyes. “It was on a serviette. I must have used it to mop up the water. How stupid can I get?” She pushed her hands though her hair in frustration. “They better be able to fix it. I don’t want to have to pay for it, especially now I’ve lost his number.”

  “Can you remember his name?”

  Jacqui scrunched her nose up as she tried to think. “Page…Liam Page. I think he said. I wasn’t paying much attention,” she said, after a few seconds.

  Eve’s eyebrows vanished into her fringe in amazement. She tilted her head, waving her foot. “You remember exactly what he looks like, right down to his accent, but you weren’t paying much attention to his name...interesting.”

  “Eve, please, drop it. He’s a man and I’m off men.”

  “For now. It’s probably best not to swear off men for life, though. They do have their uses.”

  “You know very well what Vince did to me. I have no wish to get involved with any man, thank you. And don’t tell me all men aren’t the same. I can’t relax enough around any of them. Not even the boss. I flinch every time he leans across my desk or gets into my personal space.”

  Eve raised a hand in self-defense. “OK, OK, subject dropped. You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s just see what I.T. says before you panic over the laptop, and possibly contacting this Mr. Page.”

  “All right.” She tapped the case. “Thanks for bringing this over.”

  Eve got up, taking the dead laptop with her. “You’re welcome. I’ve got to get back to the office.” She shook a finger at Jacqui and winked. “No more flowers. Especially ones thrown at you by Irish hunks.”

  Jacqui managed a small laugh. She’d rather go to the dentist and that was saying something. “I promise.”

  ****

  The bell rang signifying the end of the school day. Liam glanced up at the scraping of chairs and slamming of books. “Did I say dismissed?” He shook his head at the collective sigh from his class. He taught the whole school, and it didn’t matter if they were eleven or eighteen, the lesson was over and forgotten as soon as the bell rang.

  He tapped his fingers on the desk and waited until they all sat down again. Their uniforms were slightly awry by the end of the day, blue shirts untucked, navy blazers tossed carelessly over the backs of the chairs and their blue and white striped ties at varying lengths.

  He cast a stern look over them. “Remember the assignment on Romeo and Juliet is due in first period Monday. There will be detentions if you don’t hand it in on time.” He ignored the groans. “And before you ask or try it on Monday, I will not be accepting excuses such as ‘my homework fell in the bath, sir’ or ‘the cat threw up over it, sir’. You’ve had a week do it.” Liam uttered the words the students were longing for. “All right, now you’re dismissed.”

  The students scrambled for the door as Liam ran his hand over his chin. The beard was an experiment, but one he’d probably end up keeping. He wasn’t used to the scratchy facial hair, but it was better than seeing the scar his clothes didn’t hide in the mirror each day. Besides, he hated shaving with a passion.

  Pushing to his feet, he turned to the board and picked up the blackboard duster. These things hadn’t changed since he and his twin sister, Niamh, were at school over two decades ago. Erasing the lesson plan, his thoughts returned to the fool he’d made of himself over lunch. He couldn’t have done it better if he’d tried. Niamh would find it hysterically funny, which was one reason he wasn’t going to tell her about it.

  He tapped the duster and then set it on the shelf by the board. Gathering the pile of essays from his desk, he walked to the door, turned off the lights, and headed to the staff room.

  He dumped the essays on a chair, and loosened his tie, wishing he could take it off. He checked his phone. No messages or calls. Was that a good thing or not? He’d had the image of the woman in his mind ever since lunch. His mother had told him flowers were a good way to impress a woman. But he didn’t think it was the kind of impression his mother had in mind.

  Liam walked over to the urn, poured his coffee and added milk. He sipped it and made his way over to the window, staring out over the bland playground filled with pupils making their way home, laughing and chatting. After today’s fiasco, that’s all he wanted to do. He debated playing hooky from the department head meeting with headmaster, Justin Forbes. As much as the school grounds needed something doing to them, he really didn’t want to attend tonight. He sipped his coffee, his eye catching the chunky chain-link bracelet on his wrist. Sally had given it to him as a wedding present.

  Liam closed his eyes and the images which haunted his nightmares filled his mind. Gunfire, blood, Sally screaming and falling...

  “Liam? Are you all right? It’s time for the meeting.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m coming.”

  Sliding into the single available seat, which happened to be in the front row, Liam hoped the person from the Foundation would be a quick speaker. He honestly didn’t see the point in this. Surely the decision to re-landscape the grounds was up to the governors and school body, not the department heads. He leaned back in the chair and propped the left foot on right knee. Justin stood by the desk, the woman next to him leaning over a laptop. She straightened and the short black plaid skirt gave Liam an uninterrupted view of her shapely legs.

  No harm in looking, as beauty was there to be admired—whether it was a woman or the view from a mountain top. Besides, he and God parted company when Sally died, so it wasn’t as if he’d come under condemnation from his conscience for it. He shook his head. What was wrong with him today? First he noticed the woman in the café at lunch and now this? Could Niamh be right about the emotional part of him that he’d thought had gone forever? Was it finally coming back to life? According to her, he’d been a robot for the past eighteen months, but part of him liked that. That way it didn’t hurt quite so much.

  The woman turned, giving him a glimpse of her face. The smile as she spoke to Justin lit her familiar hazel eyes.

  Liam’s eyes widened, no longer with appreciation, but horror. Just when he didn’t think the day could get any worse. It was Miss Dorne from the café. He had to get out of here before she saw him.

  He pushed upright in his chair, starting to get to his feet, then stopped. It was too late. She’d seen him.

  Her eyes narrowed in recognition, and Liam took a deep breath, trying to force air into his lungs through the obstruction blocking his throat. He hoped desperately she wouldn’t say anything about him ruining her computer. It must have been this presentation she was working on. She looked at Justin as he spoke, then back at Liam as they walked over to where he was seated.

  Way to go, you can get fired and spend all your savings in one day.

  His dread grew as the headmaster led the woman over to him. Justin smiled as he spoke. “Liam, this is Miss Jacqui Dorne. She’s representing the Jekyll Foundation. Miss Dorne, this is Liam Page, head of our English department.”

  Liam took her cool hand in his warm one and shook it. Somehow he managed to get his voice to work and sound enthusiastic, although he felt
anything but. Any hint of interest he had in this scheme had just dissipated. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Dorne. I’m looking forward to the presentation and seeing what your company has to offer.”

  2

  Jacqui shook his hand, covering her shock at seeing him. He was the last person she’d expected to run into here. It was more than a little ironic that he’d nearly ruined the very presentation he had to watch and evaluate. “Hello, Mr. Page. I hope I live up to, that is, my company lives up to your expectations.”

  “It has a good reputation. I’m sure it will.”

  So that was the way he wanted to play it. Cool and calm. She could do that. Be still my beating heart. She could drown in those eyes of his. She had downplayed his attractiveness to Eve earlier. The guy oozed testosterone. Only now, he looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. For an instant she was tempted to drop him in it. But the instant passed. She wasn’t that mean. It was an accident after all, and now she’d calmed down, she knew that. At least she had the opportunity to ask for his number again.

  Letting go of his hand, Jacqui sat down by the desk as Mr. Forbes started the meeting. His words flowed over her as she ran her gaze over the assembled teachers, before finally resting back on Liam Page. He was trying to look nonchalant, his legs crossed, right hand folded over his left. But there was something about him and she didn’t just mean his looks.

  “So, let me hand you over to Jacqui Dorne who’ll tell you more.”

  Jacqui stood to polite applause and smiled. She’d done this several times, but still the butterflies soared and whirled making her uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and began with a brief history of the Jekyll Foundation. “You should all have found on your seats a paper copy of our designs.”

  There was a rustling of papers from everyone with one exception. It had to be him, didn’t it? Jacqui picked one up and handed it to Liam. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” He reached out his left hand and took it, the gold band catching in the overhead lights. How could she have missed it before? His eyes were on her necklace as he spoke. At least she hoped he stared at her necklace. Clearing her throat made him lift his eyes back to her face, a faint smile on his lips. What kind of a game was he playing?

 

‹ Prev