Another Summer (16 page)

But it was an old smugglers’ inn, cosy and full of atmosphere.  The food was amazing and the weather was glorious for October.  Although Evie missed Claire, she hoped that having her mother move in to help look after her would bring about her parents’ reconciliation.

As she began to relax, Joe remembered why he’d  fancied her.  Walking on the beach was making his leg stronger.  Sex on the beach was bringing them closer.  She was eager, keen to please.  He loved it.  He even told her he loved her and a bit of him actually meant it.

He came back from honeymoon to find he’d landed a job.  He wasn’t thrilled it was telesales but he found it a doddle turning on the charm to get a sale.  He hit all his targets, which made him popular with his team.  The girls treated him like a hero for marrying his pregnant girlfriend instead of doing a runner.  He didn’t put them straight.

When they invited him out for drinks after work, it was easy to fall into a pattern.  Easy to go on for food.  A club.  Nobody mentioned his limp.  Nobody cared.  They were all young and single, wanting a good time with no strings.  He lapped up the flirting.  The ego trip.  The one-night stands he could almost pick from a menu.

Evie seemed happy enough with the baby and getting stuck into her studies.  Why would she mind him letting his hair down after a hard week at work?  He always came home to her, didn’t he?

One night she was waiting up in the kitchen when he came home a bit the worse for wear.  She’d been crying.  He managed not to groan.  He just wanted a mug of tea and his bed.

“Why are you so late?  I cooked a celebration dinner but it’s ruined now.”

Come to think of it, there was a faint smell of burning.  “Celebrate what?”

“I got a job.”

“Didn’t know you wanted a job.”

“Never bothered to find out, did you?” she sniffed.  “Never noticed how frumpy and mumsy I feel?  I’m eighteen and my entire life seems to consist of changing nappies and washing up.”

She hurled a pan lid across the floor.  It bounced off the cooker and landed with a clatter under the table.  The noise banged round his head.  He pulled out a chair.  Sat down slowly, so he wouldn’t miss.  Wished he’d thought to put the kettle on first but it was too much of an effort to get back up.

“So, what’s the job?” he managed.

“What do you care?  You’re only bothered about your social life.  Swanning around till all hours, coming home reeking of drink.  And perfume.  I’m not stupid.  Who is it this time?”

Joe opened his mouth.  No words came out.  Probably just as well.  What was he meant to say?  When he just sat there, she burst into tears.

“I know you never wanted to marry me,” she sobbed.  “But why do you have to make it so obvious?”

The denial tripped off his tongue.  She didn’t argue.  Looked relieved.

“So, you don’t want a divorce?”

Why would he want to divorce her?  He had nowhere else to go.  The shock must have found its way to his face because she was on his lap, kissing him.  Wanting make-up sex.  Who was he to disappoint her?

He watched her blossom and said all the right things when she was quickly promoted.  Now able to afford their own place, they bought an Edwardian villa that a colleague of Michael’s had inherited from a maiden aunt.

It had never been touched so they got it for a song.  He was meant to be grateful for the favour.  He hated that.  Hated being railroaded into years of commitment to knock  it into shape.  He’d never been big on commitment.

He wanted a nice home but didn’t like getting his hands dirty.  Or watching every spare penny disappear down the big black hole of renovations.  But Evie loved it.  Loved the idea of them building their future together.

He watched Heather and Steve jetting off to exotic places.  And felt left behind.  Why should he settle for caravan holidays in Scarborough when all his single workmates were chasing the sun?  It made him feel resentful.  Entitled to his secret life on the side.

He found it easy to job-hop, chasing bigger perks, keeping one step ahead of hot water if a girl ever got too clingy.  It didn’t much matter what he was selling.  He had the gift.  Clients loved him and his bonuses stacked up nicely.

He hadn’t let on about the first bonus.  He paid the agreed amount into their joint account and bought himself a sharp suit.  He liked how it felt with a crisp shirt and no tie.  Then he fancied another one and didn’t want to wait until the end of the quarter.  A secret credit card was obtained.  Became a habit.  Sometimes he bought treats for Evie and Claire, basking in the glow of their gratitude.  Paying off the debt was never a risk as he’d never missed a target.

Evie moved quickly up the food chain.  He liked her new look.  The smart clothes.  Her confidence.  Their tired old street became a sought after address and there was more money for the holidays he wanted.  He wasn’t happy exactly.  But he kept himself amused and they chugged along quite nicely for a good few years. 

Until this year, the year from hell.

The client was adoring and sympathetic to his troubles.  She was older, grateful for crumbs and the chance of a fling.  She was nothing special.  Just there when he wanted a shoulder to cry on.

But he’d been careless.  Got caught with his pants down and would’ve been shown the door if he hadn’t got in there first with his resignation.  It was the wake-up call he’d been needing for years.  He finally realised he had to get his life in order.

It was a shock to realise he wanted the life he already had.  And a bigger shock that Evie hadn’t been waiting at home for his token explanation.  He knew he had to convince her that things could be different.  He could be different.  Not least because this year, there’d be no handy bonus to pay off his secret debt.

Evie woke to the chink of a breakfast tray being slid onto the bed beside her.  She hitched up against the pillows, wincing a bit at the shameless ache in her thighs.  Sex with Jake was better than any workout.

“Power’s off again,” he told her.  “So no coffee, I’m afraid.  Or toast.  I couldn’t rustle up much beyond leftover cheese.  The cupboard’s a bit bare.”

“I hate grocery shopping,” she groaned.  “And I don’t like driving in the rain.”  

“At least it looks like the roof’s holding for now.”

“Thanks to you.”  She kissed his shoulder as she picked up a slice of cheese.  “I’ll have to do something about that pile of wet bedding, though.  It’s starting to smell.  Where’s the nearest launderette?”

“Launderette?” he scoffed.  “Someone’s forgotten where they are.”

He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his long hair flopping over one eye.  She wanted to push it back.  Push him back onto the bed and kiss him all over his hard tanned body.  What had he done to her?  She never behaved like that, no matter where she was.

They shared the cheese and the dregs of orange juice.  When she ate a slice of bread and marmalade, he licked a smudge off her lip and kept on licking.

“I might be okay now on the energy front,” he grinned.  “But you might have to help me a bit.”

She helped him a lot.  He helped her back.  It didn’t stop raining.  The power stayed off and the kitchen didn’t manage to re-stock itself.

“So, am I going to take you to the nearest supermarket?”

“What?  Did you just willingly offer to do a supermarket shop with me?”

“Why not?  I might rustle up a bit of Jamie later and I like to pick out my own ingredients.  I’ll even drive.”

A man offering to shop and cook?  Evie wondered if she was lost in some parallel universe, drunk on the intoxicating newness of him.

He was lying back on the pillows, one arm stretched above his head.  Her finger itched to trace along the ridges of his stomach but she knew if she touched him again, they’d never get out of bed.  She turned her back and swung her legs onto the floor, removing herself from temptation.  The window was still being lashed by rain.

“I left in that much of a hurry, I can’t even remember if I packed a coat.” 

“You won’t need a coat in Ibiza.  The summer’s going to be awesome.”

Oh God!  Ibiza?  If she went with him, it would certainly be a summer to remember.  But she couldn’t possibly go, could she?  She’d only known him a few days.  How could she even be thinking about doing such a thing?

How would she explain it to Claire?  As yet, she didn’t even know her parents were possibly splitting up.  That could hardly be dropped into a casual conversation.  Never mind hearing that her mother was running off to Spain with a hot young musician.

And taking Claire along wasn’t the answer.  She wasn’t three, easy to distract with ice-cream and a go on the swings.  She was talking about a summer of nothing but sex.  Who was she kidding?  It was beyond inappropriate.

And the sex itself.  Lovely as it was, Evie was starting to wonder if she could keep up the pace for a whole summer.  What if she just wanted to lie on the beach with a book?  Mooch around the market?  Her body would be constantly on fire.  How much was too much of a good thing?

“If I’m crashing here, I’ll need some stuff,” Jake was saying, oblivious to her dilemma.  “We can call in at my place on the way.”

They hadn’t discussed him staying on at the cottage.  The old Evie would’ve minded about that.  Now she just wanted to keep him around for as long as she could, especially if she decided she wasn’t going to Ibiza.

“I wish I’d remembered my phone.  I’m a bit worried that Claire may have been calling from Italy.  If she’s been talking to Joe, God knows what he’ll have told her.”

Jake fished his phone from his pocket as he pulled on his jeans.  “Looks like mine died.  I can fetch the charger but it won’t be much help around here until the power comes back on.”

“I think I need to buy a cheap pay-as-you-go.  Where’s the nearest place like Carphone Warehouse?”

He laughed.  “You’re such a townie, aren’t you?  There’s a big Tesco in Porthrynton Heath.  Will that do?”

“Might be better to go there for supplies anyway.  When the power’s this erratic, we should stock up on things that don’t need a fridge.  I noticed Penwarren village has gone very up-market.  It’s all artisan bakers and organic meat, these days.  Lovely for a treat but not very practical.”

“Like I said the other day, rich incomers are buying up all the property so there’s not much call now for shops selling seaside souvenirs.  When I make my first millions, I think I’ll come back and outbid the lot of them.”

They managed to keep their hands off each other just long enough to get washed in cold water and dressed, for what seemed like the first time in days.  The nearest thing Evie had to anything rain-proof was a short blue trench which she pulled on over skinny jeans, a cream T-shirt and her flat leather boots.  He’d put his white shirt back on but it was so grubby now it looked more bin-man than rock star.

Seeing as he’d offered, she gave him the car keys.  She’d never been a confident driver in wet weather.  Next time she changed her car, she was having something less powerful.  But changing her company car meant going back to work and she wasn’t ready to think about that yet.  Whatever she decided about Ibiza, maybe she would enquire about taking some more time off so she could sort her head out.

Jake pulled up outside a row of cottages painted in ice cream colours.  It could only be more twee if he’d come out again in wellingtons and a fisherman’s chunky knit sweater.  But he’d changed into clean jeans, biker boots and a brown leather jacket.  He tossed a holdall, another leather jacket and two crash helmets into the boot.

“Two crash helmets?”

“I thought we could pick up the bike on the way back and take it for a last spin.  It has to go back tomorrow.”

“We?  No way!”

He grinned at her as he started the car.  The rich brown leather perfectly matched his eyes.  

“You’re chicken!”

“Better chicken than dead.  It’s far too dangerous in this weather, surely?”

“No more dangerous than a rear wheel drive BMW.  I can handle it.  You’ll just be on the back looking sexy.”

“In a crash helmet?”

“Are you saying you’re too old to look sexy in a crash helmet?”

What could she say to that?  It didn’t help that every female in the supermarket seemed to be drooling over him.  She started to feel invisible, as if none of them considered that she could possibly be with him.  When she was browsing in the aisle of mobile phones, a girl actually handed him a bit of paper, flicking her hair invitingly as she sashayed away.

“I don’t believe some random girl just gave you her number.”

He shrugged as he crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his pocket.  “Happens all the time.  Sometimes I ring.  Sometimes I don’t.  Depends what else I’ve got on.”

Evie didn’t trust herself to speak.  Was she so out of touch that this type of thing had become normal?

Smarting with humiliation, she trudged around the aisles.  She felt self-conscious and miserably over dressed in her sassy little trench, certain that to all the girls eyeing him up, she was nothing but a sad old cougar trying too hard.

Jake could have any of them.  He only had to crook his little finger.  She’d seen that at the gig the other night.  Now here, in a supermarket of all places.  It was ludicrous to think she could compete.  If her own husband didn’t see anything in her, why would someone as hot as Jake?

“What’s up?” he frowned as he put a bundle of candles into the trolley.  “You’re just tossing stuff in without even looking at it.  It’ll cost you a bomb and you won’t even know what you’ve bought.”

“It’s my bloody money, isn’t it?”

“That girl got to you?”

“What girl?”

He tugged at her belt and slid his hands round her waist, under the coat.  He kissed her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

“You may as well admit it,” he teased.  “People know the band now.  You’re jealous.”

“And wouldn’t you just love that?”

“I could definitely love you.”

“You just love the idea of rescuing me.  Why are you even bothering with me?”

“You mean apart from your great legs, juicy ass and the best tits I’ve laid eyes on in months?”

“Don’t joke about it!”

“Who’s joking?  Real tits that actually move?  Who wouldn’t want a bit more of that?  Yes, I get hit on a bit.  Girls round here know who I am.  You’re different.”

She let him kiss her, leaned into him for more, right there in the supermarket aisle.  Under the coat, his hands crept up and teased over her nipples.  A bit of her even hoped that girl was still hanging around to notice.

“We could duck into the toilets?  Give the blue rinse brigade a cheap thrill?”

“You wouldn’t?” she gasped.  “We’d get arrested.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It would be for me!  I’d rather find a call box.”

“Is that what turns you on?  Being watched through all that glass?  Sorry to disappoint you but I think they just put payphones onto walls these days.”

“I want to try calling my mother,“ she explained, trying to keep a straight face so she didn’t encourage him further.  “This new mobile needs charging before I can use it.”

“Spoilsport!” he grinned, making a big show of pulling her coat tight around her.  “The petrol station’s probably the best bet for a payphone.  I’ll top up the tank while you go and look.”

When she tried to walk, she found her knees had turned to jelly.  She really had to stop taking herself so seriously.  Why should she care that Jake was a bit younger, when he was giving her the time of her life?  It was only for a week and it wasn’t as if thirty was even that old.  And if Joe could do it all these years, why the hell shouldn’t she?

Maybe it was the thought of Joe that made her imagine she saw him.

She’d found her mother’s number in the back of her diary and had started to leave a not-to-worry message when she spotted the dark hair, the distinctive walk with just a hint of stiffness.  He always suffered if he’d had to sit down for a long time.

But how could it be Joe?  Surely he wouldn’t have followed her all the way down here?  If he thought he could charm her into another reconciliation, he’d have been banging on the cottage door long before now.  Wouldn’t he? 

She’d planned quick calls to Vanessa and Heather but couldn’t remember what she’d been going to say.  Her heart was hammering so loudly, she thought she might be sick.  Jake drove up and she got into the car, scanning the forecourt, even as he kissed her.  But she couldn’t see properly through the rain.  Whoever it was had vanished.

Luckily Jake put on some music and didn’t seem keen to talk.  She couldn’t have joined in with anything coherent.  The incident had spooked her, made her start thinking about Joe before she was ready.

She knew she’d have to talk to him at some point.  But she wanted to be strong and in control of the conversation.  If he got to her when she was all flustered like this, he’d get round her.  He always did.

Jake had pulled up outside his cottage.  He grabbed one of the helmets from the boot and said he’d follow her on the bike.  She took a deep breath, got into the driver’s seat and made herself drive away.

It was still pouring, the rain so heavy she could barely see.  The arching hedgerows made tunnels of the lanes and she remembered how much she hated the thick black darkness, peculiar to the country.

Jake had teased her about being a townie and he was probably right.  She’d imagined the cottage as a refuge in summer but she knew if she had to stay there on her own without power for long, she’d be a wreck. 

Maybe she should think about going to Ibiza after all?  She could probably manage a couple of weeks.  Claire could stay with Maxine for a bit longer.  They adored each other.  And work wouldn’t be a problem.  She was accruing a lot of annual leave and right now, her role in HR seemed to belong to another life.

But even for a holiday Evie would have to go home for clothes and passport.  How would she explain it all to Claire?  She realised she’d run away instead of facing up to things.  But she couldn’t keep running forever.  Real life was closing in.