‘I do,’ he protested, laughing. ‘Just not in Little Maudley. I’m in the city most of the week.’
‘We’re lucky you’ve graced us with your presence,’ teased Helen. ‘Tuck in, everyone, there’s plenty more if anyone wants seconds. I always make far too much gravadlax.’
The starter was delicious – salmon served with a lemony fresh sauce and scattered with feathery fronds of dill. Hannah ate it all, realizing she hadn’t had a thing to eat all day.
‘More, Hannah?’ Helen was being particularly solicitous to her. She dropped a hand on her shoulder as she passed behind her chair.
‘I’ll save myself,’ she said, turning to smile a thank you.
Helen’s labrador appeared between her chair and Jake’s, and he dropped pieces of salmon into its mouth when nobody was looking.
‘Shh, don’t get me into trouble,’ he said, whispering. ‘But I can’t resist a starving lab.’
‘Did you have dogs when you were growing up?’
He shook his head. ‘Not much room for a dog in our house. You?’
‘Nope.’
‘I can’t imagine your place looked much like this, either, did it?’ He chuckled. ‘Or is that being a bit prejudiced against people from the north?’
Hannah shook her head, giggling. ‘No, I grew up in a red-brick terrace with a tiny back yard. No walled garden, no orangery, and our front lounge was probably half the size of Helen’s bedroom.’
‘Have you been exploring?’ Jake looked intrigued.
‘No, I popped up –’ she paused for a moment as wine was passed round – ‘when I got here, just to fix my make-up.’ It wasn’t strictly untrue.
As the evening went on and the wine flowed, she was surprised to find herself prodding cautiously at the wound that Phil had inflicted and finding it was – well, there wasn’t so much a raw pain as a sort of dull ache. Maybe spending a month apart had made it easier. Sitting next to Jake definitely made it easier.
She excused herself from the table and made her way to the loo in the hallway. The light was incredibly flattering – she wiped a smudge of eyeliner away from under her lower lashes and reapplied some lipstick, looking at herself in the mirror with new eyes. So this was what it looked like to be a single parent? She wrinkled her nose and raised an eyebrow at her reflection. She ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it up, then headed back to the dining room.
By the time she returned, everyone was gathering drinks and heading back towards the sitting room.
‘I brought your wine,’ Jake said, standing up as she returned. He passed the glass to her, his fingers brushing hers for a split second. It made the hairs on the back of her arms stand up.
‘Shall we?’ He inclined his head towards the door, where everyone was making their way out.
‘Come on, you two,’ chided Helen. ‘Far more comfortable sofas next door.’
A half smile tugged at the corners of Jake’s mouth. ‘Coming,’ he said, giving Hannah a look.
By the time they made it into the sitting room, there was only one sofa left empty – a smallish one facing the window which looked out over the side garden of the house. Hannah hovered for a moment.
‘Don’t worry,’ Jake said, laughing, ‘I won’t bite.’
She sat down, pressing her knees together and trying not to take up too much space.
‘Ah, hello,’ said a voice from behind them. She turned around. One of the men who’d been down at the bottom end of the table, holding court, was bearing down on them. She smiled politely, but he was clearly not remotely interested in talking to her. The next half hour was taken up with his opinions on football and the state of the Premier League. Hannah, trapped by his manspreading with his legs akimbo on the edge of the sofa, sat nursing her almost-empty glass for what felt like ages.
Eventually, though, he left.
‘Do you get that a lot?’ She widened her eyes in mock horror as Jake shook his head, laughing quietly.
‘All the bloody time. As if I have any say over which matches are shown on the television, or who signs whom.’
‘You never fancied going on TV?’
‘Absolutely not. Just because I played the game doesn’t mean I want to become some sort of pundit.’
‘You could be on there every Saturday, with Gary Lineker and all that lot.’
Jake shook his head. ‘No chance.’
‘So what else do you do besides the football coaching?’ Helen appeared, bringing a bottle and topping up their glasses. She gave Hannah a knowing look and disappeared.
‘At the moment, not much. I’ve got some – well – I’ve got some stuff going on. Family stuff.’ He rubbed his jaw and frowned. ‘But I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do next.’
‘It must be hard, changing careers and not knowing what’s ahead for the rest of your life.’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. Hard is working two jobs like my aunt did when she was bringing me up.’
She ducked her head, smiling. ‘All right, fair enough.’
‘Oh,’ he looked concerned. ‘I didn’t mean that the way it came out – I don’t mean to sound so bloody self-righteous. Just . . . there’s so much crap around footballing and footballers and sometimes I think we’re all treated like special snowflakes when the truth is, it’s just a game, and we’re lucky enough to get to do it as a job. D’you know what I mean?’
‘I do.’ He really wasn’t anything like she’d expected. The more she got talking to him, the more she realized she liked him and his straightforward approach to life. And he’d be an incredible influence on Ben, especially if he was going to try and make a career out of playing.
‘Anyway, how about you? Moving down from Manchester to the village must be a shock to the system?’
You have no idea, thought Hannah. ‘It is a bit,’ she agreed.
‘Ben seems to be settling in pretty well, though, doesn’t he?’
‘He’s loving it.’ She was relieved to get onto a safer subject. She sat back against the soft cushions of the sofa and stretched out her legs, feeling more at home now she was chatting about parental stuff.
‘You must’ve been pretty young when you had Ben? You’re loads younger than most of the other parents in the team.’ Jake looked at her thoughtfully. He was resting his wine glass on his knee. She tried not to look at the length of his thighs.
‘I was nineteen.’ She always hated this conversation, because there always felt like there was a side helping of judgement that came along with it.
‘Wow. And you did it all by yourself?’
‘Um,’ she said, feeling a small army of butterflies crashing around in her stomach. ‘No, I’m – I was, I mean – I – well . . .’
‘You’re divorced?’ He finished the sentence for her, lifting his glass and spinning it around by the stem. He looked at her steadily. She felt her stomach contract.
‘Something like that. We’ve recently split up.’
‘Ben seems to have coped pretty well. He comes across as a level-headed sort of kid.’
‘God.’ She shook her head, laughing. ‘He wasn’t so much when we were back in Manchester. He was in trouble with the police, got suspended from school, the whole lot.’
‘Weird how sometimes a move can change everything, isn’t it?’
‘Really weird.’ She gazed out of the window. In the darkness, she could spot the lights of the next village up on the hill beyond Little Maudley. This area was such a contrast to the noise and bustle she’d lived with in Manchester. ‘We moved around quite a lot when he was younger, but he never seemed to settle anywhere until we got here.’
‘Strange how things turn out. I never thought I’d be living in a posh village like this when I was growing up. Did you?’
‘God, no way.’ She shook her head. ‘I still find it a bit . . .’ She searched for the right word.
‘Stuck up?’ He raised an eyebrow and looked over towards Helen and the others, who were gathered round the coffee table
looking at something on an iPad and chortling loudly.
‘I dunno.’ She wrinkled her nose in thought. ‘They’re all very nice, aren’t they?’
‘Oh God, yeah. Just – well, you can’t imagine them living back home, can you?’
She liked the way he referred to Manchester as home for both of them.
Later on, once everyone had been offered coffee and most had turned it down in favour of one last drink, they gathered in the big open hall to say farewell.
‘Had a good time?’ Helen asked quietly, as Hannah was putting on her coat.
‘Really lovely, thank you.’
‘Excellent.’ Helen squeezed her arm. ‘That’s what I like to hear.’ She nodded in Jake’s direction. He was standing to one side in the hall, tapping out a message on his phone. ‘Of course, as distractions go, he’s a pretty good one, you must admit.’
‘Helen!’ Hannah giggled. She’d definitely had more than enough wine. God, she was going to regret it in the morning.
‘Just saying,’ said Helen, with a catlike smile. ‘I mean, it’s hard to feel too despondent with someone as handsome as that giving you his undivided attention.’
‘Hardly.’ Hannah felt herself blushing.
‘Oh my dear,’ Helen said, dropping to a whisper. ‘He most certainly was. I think you’ve got a fan.’
Hannah shook her head. ‘I think you might need to get your eyes tested.’
‘Mark my words,’ Helen said, tapping the side of her nose. ‘I have a good eye for that sort of thing.’
‘Would you like a lift?’ David had been sticking to soft drinks all night, and was jangling the keys for his Land Rover.
‘No, it’s fine, I can walk. It’s not exactly far. The fresh air will do me good.’
‘Bit chilly out there, though.’
‘Oh, David, you’re a sweetie.’ Helen linked her hand through her husband’s arm and looked at him fondly. ‘Honestly, Hannah, it’s no trouble at all. Unless perhaps Jake wants to offer you a lift? Oh gosh, no, he’s been drinking as well.’ Helen was looking mischievous.
Jake looked up. ‘What was that?’
‘Are you needing a lift home?’ David jangled the keys again.
Jake shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got someone picking me up.’
‘He’s probably got a chauffeur,’ Helen said under her breath to Hannah.
‘I can’t imagine that.’ Hannah shook her head. Jake seemed the last person to be ostentatious about his wealth.
She kissed Helen goodbye and waved to the other guests. She felt oddly shy about saying goodbye to Jake, despite having spent the whole evening chatting to him and sitting by his side.
‘I must get off,’ she said, awkwardly. ‘I’ll say hello to Ben for you.’
Why on earth had she said that? God, she had a knack of making herself look like a complete idiot. She pressed her lips together carefully in case any more inane comments fell out.
‘Take care,’ he said, looking up. ‘See you soon?’ He shoved his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.
‘I will,’ she nodded. ‘And yes. Let me know if you need a hand with lifts for the boys for that away game next week.’
‘Will do. That would be really helpful.’
She made her way out into Helen’s garden. The sky was velvety dark and sprinkled with stars, and her heart felt a bit lighter for an evening spent in Jake’s company.
And then she heard the crunch of tyres on fine gravel. The lights dazzled her for a moment, but then she realized she was looking at the expensive black car Jake had been driving the other day – and at the wheel was the dark-haired woman who’d been beside him.
Hannah sighed. Of course he was getting picked up by whoever she was – it was ridiculous of her to think he’d be single. She gave the woman a brief smile out of good manners and trudged back to the cottage.
Chapter Nineteen
Hannah woke with a clobbering headache (thanks to the combination of red wine, white wine, gin and champagne) and a strange sense that something awful had happened, but she couldn’t quite remember what . . .
She sat bolt upright, letting out a very long, slow, careful exhalation of breath, and picked up her phone. He’d sent a message.
Just checking you’re okay? Can we talk later?
Instinctively, she hit the call button, then a split second later cancelled it. He could wait. She needed to gather her thoughts.
Another text message popped up as she had the phone in her hand.
I’ve been invited to hang out here for the day and stay for tea – have said OK.
That’s fine, she tapped out a reply to Ben. She had a stay of execution after all.
Once she’d tidied the kitchen and done the usual routine tasks, she collapsed on the sofa and called Katie. Pinky the cat hopped onto her knee, trod round in circles a few times, and then curled up, purring. She stroked him absent-mindedly. He was the loveliest thing about moving to the cottage. She’d always wanted a cat, and Phil had always said no. Lose a husband, gain a cat, she thought to herself.
‘Hello, gorgeous. What’s up?’
‘Phil’s not coming.’
‘I thought he was coming yesterday?’
There was a rush of noise and a clatter down the line, and Hannah heard Katie place an order for coffee. For a moment she felt a pang of longing to be back in Manchester where her old friends were, sitting having a cake and putting the world to rights over coffee while Katie blocked out her diary and pretended to be in an important meeting.
‘No, he’s not coming as in he’s not coming to Little Maudley. At all. As in, we are over. It’s done.’
‘Hang on. What? Bloody hell. Are you okay? Do you want me to come down?’
She rubbed her nose thoughtfully. ‘Of course I’d love you to come down – that goes without saying. But – I think I am?’
‘Okay?’
‘Yeah.’ She closed her eyes and examined her feelings. ‘Unless I’m in some sort of denial.’
‘Maybe the fact that he’s effing useless and you’ve basically been operating as a solo unit for years has something to do with it?’
There was a pause. Hannah waited, pretty sure Katie had more to say. She picked absent-mindedly at some fluff on the cushion, gathering it into a little ball and tossing it onto the carpet.
‘Oh God,’ Katie said eventually, and Hannah could picture her face perfectly. ‘I’m sorry. That was uncalled for and I’m a bitch and it’s not exactly helpful, is it? Is there anything I can do?’
Typical Katie – straight in with an action plan.
‘Nope. It’s not uncalled for. That’s the weird thing. I woke up this morning and felt really strange – I mean, that was partly the raging hangover, but I’ll tell you about that later. Mainly, though, I realized that I didn’t actually feel anything.’
‘Shock, probably.’
‘I don’t know if it is. I think that I’ve been making excuses for him and trying to do the right thing and stay together for ages, and now I feel like someone’s given me a leave pass.’
‘Well that’s – surprising. Radical. Good. Bit weird?’
‘Probably all of the above.’
‘What are you going to do today?’
‘I’m going to see if Nicola wants to come and have a look at the community bookshop in Moreton-in-Marsh. I thought we might pick up some hints.’
‘Er, right.’
‘What is it?’
‘Um,’ Katie paused for a moment. ‘Nothing.’
‘Look,’ Hannah said, guessing what she was thinking, ‘Of course I’m not expecting to come out of this unscathed, but I think maybe on some level I was expecting it to happen eventually.’
‘Yeah. I sort of hoped you’d be the one to leave him,’ said Katie, darkly.
‘It’s not a competition!’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
‘Oh my God. If it helps, I’ll divorce him instead of him divorcing me. Does that make you feel better?’
‘Right, I better go and get dressed. I’m working on the assumption that Nicola probably isn’t doing anything. She’s had a rough time herself lately, and maybe if we go out today it’ll take both our minds off things.’
‘Okay. Keep me posted.’
‘I will. Love you – speak to you later.’ Hannah went to hang up, but realized that her friend was still talking.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said – just look after yourself. I know you think you’ve just bounced back from this, but you might find you do feel a bit shitty later on. And I’ll be here if you do.’
Smiling to herself, Hannah hung up.
She got dressed and headed across the village green and up the high street. The weather was definitely turning now – the trees of Little Maudley were displaying beautiful shades of orange and red, and the gardens had all been neatly tidied up for the winter. Green foliage replaced the flowers in the pots that stood outside so many of the front doors. It was as if someone had gone along and waved a magic wand, transforming the village from summer mode to autumn. She turned left and walked along the narrow lane flanked with russet-coloured beech hedges that led to Nicola’s house. Before she could raise her hand to ring the bell, Nicola’s black cockapoo had leapt from her vantage point on the sitting room windowsill and reappeared at the front door window, yapping furiously.
‘Hang on,’ called a voice, ‘Belle, will you please be quiet.’
‘Just wondered if you were doing anything,’ Hannah said as Nicola appeared, hair tied back from her face and a red-and-white-spotted Cath Kidston apron tied around her waist.
‘Well, I was going to clean the kitchen for the eighteenth time this week,’ Nicola said, untying her apron as she spoke. ‘But if you’ve got a better offer, I’m absolutely up for it.’
‘D’you want to come to Moreton-in-Marsh for the day with me?’
‘Yes. Yes please. Definitely.’
‘Excellent.’
They drove in Nicola’s little MG, zooming down the country lanes and listening to Radio 1.
‘It feels like playing truant,’ Hannah said, laughing.
The Village Green Bookshop: A Feel-Good Escape for All Book Lovers from the Bestselling Author of The Telephone Box Library Page 15
