Read A Roast on Sunday Online

Authors: Tammy Robinson

A Roast on Sunday (8 page)

BOOK: A Roast on Sunday
4.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I promise you Maggie,
” he said in a low voice, “you have nothing to worry about. My intentions are pure.”


That’s good to hear.”

‘Truce?”

“Alright, truce.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that moonlight suits you,” he whispered.

The intensity
of the moment had almost robbed her of her voice but she managed to rescue a tiny spark.

“Why,” she
replied, “because it hides all my flaws?”

He chuckled,
and then reached up a hand to softly brush a tendril of hair away from her face.


No. Because it makes your skin and your eyes illuminated as if lit by a blue flame from within.” he said. “And your lips shine as if crafted from the finest silver.”

“Ahem,” a voice coughed behind them
and broke the spell. They both turned to see the silhouette of Dot standing in the open door. Maggie hurriedly took a step back from Jack.


Hi mum,” she said. “Is Willow home?”

“She’s here,” Dot answered
. “Showered and tired but full to the brim with stories of how she landed her monster fish.”

“I can’t wait to hear them,”
Maggie’s voice came out high pitched. She coughed to clear her throat.

“So
are you two are planning on coming inside tonight?”

Maggie ignored
this and pushed past her mother to get inside the house. Jack followed. The heat that emanated from them left scorch marks on the door frame as they passed, and a tiny spark leapt from Jack and singed Dot’s hair.

“Ouch,”
she said, rubbing the spot. Her eyes followed them as they headed into the kitchen.

“Oh yes,” she
nodded to herself. “It’s definitely obvious what’s going to happen there.”

Chapter nine

 

“What was that noise?” Ray looked around, confused. “Did someone let a cat in?”

“It was his stomach,” Willow pointed at Jack with a fork.

“Don’t point with your cutlery,” said Maggie.
“It’s rude.”

‘Sorry,” Jack looked sheepish. “It’s just that it’s been awhile since I’ve sat down to a meal so spectacular.” He scanned the table eagerly, not sure where to start and keen to dive in but holding back out of politeness.

Dot
had been busy in the kitchen for most of the afternoon. The lamb had been slow roasting for the past four hours, with sprigs of fresh picked rosemary from the bush underneath the kitchen window, and cloves of garlic poked deep into the flesh of the meat. It was brown and crispy on the outside, and as Ray carved it Jack could see that it was succulent and juicy on the inside. In the last hour at various times she’d added potatoes, carrots, yams, onions and parsnips to the pan, turning them occasionally and basting them with the fat from the lamb. The potatoes were the main thing catching Jack’s eye and causing his stomach to growl hungrily. They looked crunchy and he just knew that when he bit into them the insides would be fluffy and perfect.

On a long platter in the middle lay the fish that Willow had caught that afternoon. It had been smoked until the flesh had turned golden. Now, the
skin had been peeled back to reveal the delicate and juicy white meat.

There was also a bowl of baby peas, some corn on the cob, a plate with some fresh bread buns piled high and a blue pottery jug filled to almost overflowing with
homemade gravy. Dot had also picked some bluebells that grew wild along the back fence and put them in a pretty crystal vase with some water. Their sweet, delicate scent spoke of summer days.

Jack’s stomach growled again, and this time everyone heard it.

“Christ,” said Ray, “you’d better hurry up and feed that man, Dot. Sounds like a famished bear that hasn’t eaten all winter.”

Dot surveyed the table, making sure she had everything.
“Salt and Pepper.” She fetched the tall grinders from the pantry, placing them in the centre of the table. “Right that’s it, dig in.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed tongs and serving spoons and he ladled and grabbed until there was no inch of his plate that wasn’t covered in food. Only then did he sit
back, ready to eat, and noticed the others all watching him in fascination.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Dot snapped out of it and frowned at the others. “Stop staring at our guest,” she said. “It’s wonderfully refrshing to see a man with such a healthy appetite.”

For
awhile there was no noise but the sound of jaws chewing, but after a few minutes Willow remembered she hadn’t told her mum the story of how she’d caught the fish and she started to relay it with gusto, hands gestures included.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Ray with his mouth full.

Willow rolled her eyes, but swallowed exaggeratedly and carried on with the story. Maggie listened indulgently, her eyes following the animation on her daughters face. She felt a surge of love for her daughter. Ever since she had been a newborn baby in her arms Maggie had considered Willow to be her finest achievement in life. It was the simplest moments like these, with her daughter and her family around her, that reminded her just how wonderful life could be. It didn’t matter if they weren’t rich. They had each other, and they had love.

She didn’t realise that the love she was feeling inside was
clearly visible on the outside, in the intensity of her eyes, the flush on her skin and the way she bit one corner of her lip lightly until it turned the colour of ripe plums. 

Jack watched, captivated, and failed to hear when Ray asked him a question. Dot and
Ray could see why and exchanged smug smiles. Willow noticed.

“What?” she said. “
What are you guys smiling about?”

“Nothing, eat your peas.”

“No, I don’t like them.”

“Since when?”

“Since you guys started getting all secretive. If you want me to eat my vegetables then tell me what’s so secret all of a sudden.”

Maggie sighed. “No one is keeping any secrets from you, baby,”
she said, hating the lie even as she spoke it. Dot’s eyebrows shot up but she kept quiet. It wasn’t her place. The air around the table had suddenly become thick and grey with tension.

Jack was puzzled. He knew he had missed something but
whatever it was had gone right over his head. He pushed his now empty plate away and sat back, groaning theatrically.

“That was some feast,” he said. “That should carry me through for a few days at least. Thank you,” he smiled at Dot. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a meal more.”

“You’re very welcome,” she said.

“You should be thanking
me
for the fish,” pointed out Willow.

“Of course
. Thank you, Willow, for catching such a monstrously delicious fish.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.
Then she added grudgingly, “Thank you for helping us smoke it.”

“And
who should I be thanking for the impressive piece of lamb?  You, Ray?”

The silence that followed this innocuous question was immediate and hollow. He
glanced from face to face. Maggie’s eyes seemed to be shooting a message or warning of some sort his way, but without knowing what he had done he was powerless to prevent himself from doing it again. He frowned at her, trying to convey that he was clueless as to what he’d done wrong. The only one who seemed unperturbed was Willow.

“My dad
gave it to us,” she answered him, mopping up the last of the gravy off her plate with a bread roll, unaware of the volley of loaded stares that were shooting around the table over her head.

Ah, Jack thought. I’ve wandered into some kind of sensitive territory here. He knew from asking around town that Maggie’s husband Jon had left her a few years back. No one seemed to know why or where he had gone, but that
part was of little interest to Jack anyway. The only thing he’d cared about was that she was single. So when she had lied to him at the market and said she was married he was thrown, but figured it was simply a ploy to get him to leave her alone. Now though, he knew there was something more going on here.

“Does he live around these parts?” he asked casually.

“Yep.
Well, sort of,” Willow answered.

Maggie and Dot both leapt up from the table, gathering plates and bowls and clanging them together noisily in an effort to
put an end to any more conversation. Maggie came around the table and on the pretence of leaning over him to grab his plate she took the opportunity to hiss in Jack’s ear.

“Shut up,” she said.

Jack pretended he hadn’t heard.

“Do you see him often?” he
directed this question at Willow.

“No
pe.”


So only on holidays and special occasions?”

“Nope.”


Wait, surely you must see him sometimes?”

“No, n
ever,” she confirmed. She seemed unaffected by this startling declaration.

Maggie leant over Jacks shoulder again, this time elbowing him in his side sharply as she hissed louder. “
I told you to shut up.”

Jack ducked out of reach of her elbow.
“What do you mean,
never
?”

Willow
finally looked up at him. “I mean never. And if you don’t know the meaning of the word, look it up in a dictionary or go back to school. What’s with all the questions anyway?”


Sorry I’m just a little confused. I thought you said he gave you this meat.”

“Yeah
he did, and?”

Jack looked at the
other adults. “Am I missing something?”

“Can I take the fatty scraps out to Rufus?” Willow asked.

‘Sure honey,” Dot scraped them all on to one plate and passed it to her. Maggie waited till she was out the door before she turned on Jack.


Our family affairs are
none
of your business,” she told him fiercely. She looked at the clock hanging on the wall over the sink. It was barely eight o’clock but she wanted him gone. Now.

“It’s late,”
she said. “I’m sure you need to get going.”

“But there’s still dessert –” Dot
protested. She had made a blackberry and apple crumble and fresh custard.

“Hmm, that sounds –”

“I think Jack has had enough to eat for one night, mother. We don’t want to make him ill from dining on too much good food do we?” Her tone implied that she wished him very ill indeed.

“There’s always room for –”

“I’m sure Jack mentioned he has an early start tomorrow. And I need to make sure Willow’s things are ready for school.”

“But –”

Maggie yawned, exaggeratedly. “I’ll see you out,” she glared at Jack.

He registered the angry glint in her eye and decided he’d better not push things any further. This town was home
for the foreseeable future, and there would be plenty of time later to unravel the mystery. He pushed back his chair.

“Lift it, don’
t scrape it,” said Ray.

“Thank you,”
Jack said to Dot, “for such a wonderful day. I’ve enjoyed both meals immensely, and I hope I haven’t overstayed my welcome so much that I won’t be invited back again.”

“Don’t
bet on it,” Maggie muttered.

Dot
embraced Jack. “Don’t be silly. “We’ve loved having you around, haven’t we Ray?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see if I can find anything out about your model of bike,” Jack said. “Do a little research on the computer.”

“Or he could just
do what normal people do and take it to a mechanic,” Willow came back inside with a plate that looked suspiciously like it had been licked clean.

“And pay through the nose for them to spend hours fixing it when I’m perfectly capable
of doing it myself? Not likely.”

Dot sighed.
“You aren’t capable, that’s the whole point.”

“Blasphemy.
You shouldn’t insult a man’s skills like that.”

Dot rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Jack smiled; he was starting to see a pattern here. Then he saw Maggie’s face and stopped smiling.


Er, right,” he said. “I’d best get going. Early start and all that. Night all.”

“I’ll
come out and lock up the shed after you,” Maggie said.

Once they had left the room Ray winked at Dot, who nodded.

“What’s up with that?” asked Willow.

“What’s
up with what?”

“The secret signals you guys keep giving each other.”

Ray reached over and ruffled Willow’s hair.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about kid.”

“Get off,” she said, pushing her chair back.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it.”

“You guys think you’re so clever but you wait, I’ll find out what’s going on,” muttered Willow, heading off to her bedroom.

Outside,
Maggie waited until they were almost at the shed before she rounded on Jack, jabbing at his chest with a finger.


Just what the hell do you think you’re playing at,” she demanded furiously.

“Whoa,” he took a step back and held up his hands defensively. “I thought we’d declared a truce.”
He whistled for Rufus who came bounding from the warm spot he’d been occupying on the front porch.

“That was before you started sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“I was just being polite.”

“No, you were being nosy.”

“Alright, so what if I was?”


Aha, you admit it then.”

“Well how else am I supposed to find out anything about you?
You’re not exactly forthcoming with any details.”

“But that’s just it; you don’t
need
to know anything about me. We’re not friends, and with the ay you’re carrying on we’re unlikely ever to be.”

They reached the garage and she felt for the light switch on
the wall, flicking it down into the on position.

“You really don’t hold anything back, do you?” he mused.
“You just say whatever’s on your mind.”


No and I don’t see why I should. Honesty up front is the only way to be. It’s the only way to be sure no one will end up getting hurt.”

As she said the last part
he saw her eyes darken, and she sighed ever so softly. She seemed to have left him momentarily, her mind searching back in on itself, reliving some memory.

BOOK: A Roast on Sunday
4.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Big Mouth by Deborah Halverson
Keep Smiling Through by Ellie Dean
Screaming at the Ump by Audrey Vernick
Enticement by Madelynn Ellis
Caching In by Kristin Butcher
Northern Exposure by Debra Lee Brown
The Kindness of Strangers by Katrina Kittle
Crossbones by John L. Campbell