Fragrance of Violets (10 page)

“I used to be furious about the way he treated my mother, and the three of us, but not so much now.”

“And can you think of the positives rather than the negatives?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you ever think of the good experiences with him before he left? Or can you only think about the bad times?”

“I suppose I do remember the bad times, especially all those excuses that turned out to be lies.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I understand that, but the final stage of bereavement is acceptance which means you’re ready to move on with your life. Not forgetting, of course, because you can’t ever do that, but picking up the pieces and realising you still have your own life to live. A life which isn’t dominated by what happened in the past.”

Abbey arched her eyebrows. “And you think my life
is
still dominated?”

“Only you can answer that.”

“You
are
psychoanalysing me.”

“Maybe I’m trying to analyse myself.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I said we weren’t going to talk about the past. Want some more coffee?”

“No, it’s okay, thanks. I should go home now.”

“I’ll walk down to the village with you.”

“Jack, that’s not necessary. You know it’s perfectly safe walking anywhere around here.”

“I know, but if we hurry, I can get to the pub in time for last orders.”

Abbey laughed, relieved at the easing of tension. “Okay.”

They walked down the narrow lane toward the main road and chatted about the Old School. When they reached Eagle Croft, they stopped.

“Sure you don’t want to come to the pub?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “No, not tonight. Mum will be wondering where I am.”

“I’ve enjoyed this evening, you know.”

“Yes, me too.”

It was true, despite the way their conversation had veered to her father. Not only because it reminded her about how they used to talk and even argue, but because every word he said, every move he made, every smile, every laugh, everything about him stirred something deep inside her.

“May I call you?” he said. “Later this week?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Her eyes met his, and electricity sizzled between them. For a crazy moment, she wanted to reach up to kiss him. Shock rushed through her as she longed to feel his arms around her, his lips meeting hers.

She stopped her thoughts.
This was stupid
. She broke the magnetic link between them by looking away, and took a small step back before the fire inside her blazed into an inferno, raging out of her control.

“Night, Jack.”

“Night.”

He turned away and she watched him walk toward the centre of the village. For a few seconds, she imagined how it would feel to kiss him, and a hot pulse of arousal throbbed through her veins.

* * * * *

Jack forced himself not to glance back as he strode along the road to the pub. If he’d stayed one second longer, looking into those bewitching green eyes, he would have kissed her, and ruined everything between them again.

CHAPTER 10

Two days later, Abbey was in the storeroom at the shop when she heard Dolly Garside’s voice.

“Seven-thirty tomorrow evening,” Dolly was saying. “We’re meeting in the church, it’s the only place big enough. You
will
be there, won’t you, Edwina?”

“Yes, of course,” her mother replied, “but I never thought Tom Williams would turn traitor. That’s shocked me.”

“He was always the world’s worst pessimist, you know. He once said it would take at least twenty years to raise enough money to restore the gatehouse.”

“What’s happened?” Abbey asked as she went into the shop and joined her mother behind the counter.

“There’s to be a village meeting to discuss the problem of the Old School,” her mother explained.

“What is there to discuss? The roof needs replacing, end of story.”

“That’s the whole point, it isn’t the end of the story,” Dolly snapped.

“Oh? Why?”

Dolly adopted her most patronising tone. “Because our so-called friend Tom Williams thinks eighty thousand for the roof is too much. He says we should cut our losses here and now.”

Abbey’s forehead creased. “And do what? We need the Old School.”

“
He’s
suggested using whatever grants we can obtain for a modern purpose-built community centre, instead of throwing money non-stop into repairing the school.”

“But you think differently, Mrs. Garside?”

“Of course I do. The school is over a hundred years old and is part of this village’s heritage.”

Abbey had to press her lips together so as not to smirk. She could have predicted Dolly Garside’s reply almost word for word. “And this meeting tomorrow? Who called it?”

“When the trustees were divided on the issue,
I
insisted we should call a village meeting.”

I bet you did
, Abbey thought. “And now you’re canvassing support?”

“I’m inviting people to come and give their views.” Mrs. Garside cast a malevolent glare in Abbey’s direction. “However, I hope that friend of yours doesn’t show his face.”

“And which friend do you mean?” Abbey asked, even though she knew exactly who the old harridan meant.

“Jack Tremayne, of course.”

“Oh, I see. You mean you’re only inviting people who share
your
viewpoint?” She ignored her mother’s nudge against her hip below the counter and gave Mrs. Garside her sweetest smile.

“All the villagers are welcome,” Dolly declared, and added, “As long as they have the best interests of the village at heart, of course.”

“So the fact that Jack’s offered his barn for youth meetings doesn’t count?”

“Well, yes, we’re very grateful to him, but we still don’t want him at the meeting, spouting all his fine talk. Not after the way he let this village down over the gatehouse. Anyway, I can’t stand here talking all day. I have other visits to make. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, Edwina.”

Pointedly ignoring Abbey, Mrs. Garside stalked out of the shop.

“Abbey, you shouldn’t wind her up like that,” Edwina said.

“Sorry, Mum, but she brings out the worst in me. She’s so superior, and so intolerant of anyone who dares to disagree with her.”

“Are you going to tell Jack about the meeting?”

“I’m sure he’ll hear about it from someone.” Abbey averted her eyes from her mother’s curious gaze. “I’ll go and finish pricing the slate plaques.”

She went back into the storeroom and sat down at the small table again. Instead of continuing with the job she’d been doing, she twisted a strand of her hair with her fingers as she stared unseeingly at the wall. Should she ring Jack to tell him? Or should she wait for him to call her, as he said he would?

“Abbey!” Her mother’s voice broke into her thoughts ten minutes later. “Louise is here.”

Abbey jumped up and returned to the shop. “Hey, Lou!” She hugged her sister and admired Louise’s long tan coat trimmed in faux fur. “Mmm, nice coat, and you’ve changed your hair. Again.”

Louise laughed and ran her hand through her straight pageboy styled dark hair. “More sophisticated, don’t you think?”

“More than mine, you mean?”

“Yours, as usual, is—um—stylishly casual.”

Abbey grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Where’s Farnley?”

“You mean Farrell. He has a couple of meetings with his authors this afternoon, so I’ve left him to it. But how about coming for dinner with us at our hotel tonight? We’re at Briar Lodge near Kendal. You too, Mum,” she added.

“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out,” Edwina said. “I’m doing a talk about Rusthwaite Church at Grasmere this evening.”

Abbey turned to Louise. “Mum’s in demand these days as a speaker. She’s become quite an authority on local history.”

“Hardly an authority,” Edwina said with a smile. “It’s only a talk to the Women’s Institute. Anyway, why don’t you two go for a pub lunch? I can hold the fort here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll ring you if a hundred buses arrive in the car park. Go on, both of you. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on.”

Abbey walked with Louise along the main street toward the White Lion. It was a cold and windy day, and she had to keep pushing her hair back from her face, unlike Louise whose new hair-style stayed immaculate. “Come on, tell me about Farrell,” she said.

“He’s a sweetie, and treats me like a princess, but never mind about me. How about you and Jack?”

“There’s no me and Jack, if that means what I think you mean.”

“No? So why are you blushing?”

Abbey ignored her hot cheeks and shook her head. “It’s not like that, Lou. I told you, he’s grieving for his fiancée.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

Like was far too simple a word to describe her wide spectrum of feelings, but she was reluctant to open up about those. “Yes, of course I like him.”

“You hated him at one time.”

“No, I didn’t. I was—disappointed in him.”

“Yeah, you never told Ellie or me what happened the night you had your big fight with him.”

“Because it was private and personal.”

“He came on to you, didn’t he?”

The treacherous colour rose to Abbey’s face again, and Louise gave a satisfied nod. “I knew he’d pushed you too far.”

They reached the pub, chatted for a few minutes with Mike, and took their drinks to a corner table.

Abbey deliberated before deciding to tell Louise what had happened. “If you want the whole truth, he also blamed me for leading him on, even though I hadn’t behaved any differently at the party from any other time we were together. We joked and fooled around like we always did, so I’ve no idea why he thought I was being a tease.”

“I have. Ellie told me.”

“Told you what?”

“When you wouldn’t tell me why you’d fallen out with Jack, I asked Ellie, and she said she heard Helen Cardew laughing about it in the Sun Café the next day.”

“Helen Cardew? What do you mean?” Abbey thought back. Helen hadn’t been a special friend, but was one of their group of village teenagers. Long blonde hair, a figure to die for, and boy mad.

“From what Ellie overheard, Helen told Jack you’d said you were hot for him and would—how shall we put it?—not be averse to taking things further.”

Abbey gasped. “I never said that. Not to Helen or anyone. They all knew I wasn’t interested in casual sex, not like Helen or that friend of hers.”

“Exactly,” Louise replied. “And Helen knew you’d reject him if he tried anything with you.”

“But why—?” Her mouth dropped open as comprehension dawned. “You mean she thought she could move in on him?”

“Seems so. Ellie overheard her saying,
The way’s clear for me now Miss Prim and Proper’s off the scene
.”

“Oh.” The word escaped from Abbey more like an outlet of breath. “Oh wow! That explains why he tried it on with me.” She gave an exasperated grunt. “If I ever met Helen Cardew again, I’d tell her what a totally bitchy thing she did. If I was Miss Prim and Proper, she was Miss Throw Yourself At Any Man. But it still doesn’t explain—”

One of the kitchen assistants brought their tuna salads, and Abbey picked at hers while she tried to absorb what Louise had told her.

“What doesn’t it explain?” Louise asked eventually.

“Why he was so horrid to me, after I told him to take his hands off me. What he said shocked me even more than him trying to seduce me.”

The hurtful memories rushed into her mind again. Even now they still grated, and the old indignation and anger rose inside her.

“And I bet you gave as good as you got, Abbs.”

“I told him what I thought, yes.”

She heard the echo of her own scathing voice:
I thought you were different, but you’re not. You’re the same as all men, only out for themselves and to hell with anyone else’s feelings
. Cringing as she recalled her other acrimonious words, she gave Louise a rueful smile. “Looking back now, I suppose we were both as hurtful to each other.”

As soon as she said it, she realised it was the first time she’d genuinely accepted some of the blame.

“Did he ever apologise?” Louise asked.

“He sent me a letter a couple of weeks later, saying he was sorry. I tore it up.” She chewed her lower lip as she thought about Louise’s revelation. “If he’d told me about Helen Cardew’s lie, I might have understood why it happened.”

“Perhaps he never realised Helen had lied to him.”

“Could be.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“And say what?
Oh, by the way, Helen Cardew lied because she wanted to get her claws into you?
No point, Louise. It was ten years ago. We’ve both moved on. He got engaged and lived with Rachel for two years, and now he’s mourning her. End of story.”

“What’s happened since he came back to Rusthwaite? How do you feel about him now?”

Abbey wasn’t sure whether she wanted to keep her confused thoughts to herself or whether it would be a relief to talk about them. She and Louise, with only two years between them, had always been able to share confidences.

After she’d taken her last mouthful of salad, she gave a small shrug. “I’m not sure what I feel, Lou. He’s a very attractive man, and he’s so mature and self-possessed now, but he’s still the Jack I remember.”

“And you’ve fallen for him?”

“No.” Even to her own ears, her denial came out as unconvincing.

“Why not?”

“I told you, he’s grieving for Rachel.”

“That’s him. I’m asking about you.”

Abbey hesitated. “I—I don’t know. There’s a kind of attraction but that could simply be because he oozes confidence and charisma or—” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Does your heart beat faster when you’re with him? When you think about him? Do you get a tingle deep down inside you, and start wondering what it would be like to go to bed with him?”

“Louise!”

“Well, do you?”

“No!” This time the denial came out too strongly, and she defended herself. “Even if I did, that would be lust. Not love.”

“Falling in love starts with being attracted to someone, for whatever reason. Then, as you get to know them, you find you’re drawn to their character and personality—or not, as the case may be. But you already know Jack’s interests and opinions.”

“That was when we were teens. We’re different people now.”

“I bet you’re not very different. Does he still look the same or is he fat and bald?”

Abbey laughed. “Of course he isn’t.” A picture of Jack came into her inner vision. “Actually, he hasn’t changed much. He still has those stunning blue eyes, of course, and sometimes you can read what he’s thinking, but other times they’re more guarded. And his hair’s darker than it used to be, it’s more golden than blond, but he has the same mannerism of pushing it back from his forehead and taking his hand right down to the back of his neck. And when he grins, he reminds me of teenage Jack. It’s a quirky grin that makes him seem younger. His shoulders are broader, and he looks great in jeans, too, because he has a real sexy walk—What?” She broke off as Louise grinned broadly. “What? You wanted to know whether he’s the same, and I’m telling you.”

“You’ve fallen for him.”

“Why on earth do you think that? I’m simply describing him.”

“If you were
simply
describing him, you’d say,
oh, pretty much the same,
but you’re aware of everything about him, aren’t you?”

Abbey hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, I suppose I am.” Jack set all her senses on fire, not only when she was with him, but whenever she thought about him.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Louise said with a knowing smile.

“There’s nowhere to get.”

“Getting you to admit you’ve fallen in love is one big place for you, Abbs.”