Forty Things to Do Before You're Forty (11 page)

‘Mr Sinclair is going to win me a balloon at the coconut shy,' piped up Sophie.

‘I'm going to try,' said Jake. ‘If that's okay with your mum.' Two questioning eyebrows appeared above the rim of his sunglasses.

Banishing all thoughts of fanciful compliments and shin licking, Annie mustered her scraps of remaining dignity. ‘I suppose so,' she said coolly.

‘Great.' As Jake lifted his sunglasses off his nose and pushed them back into his hair, Annie noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted. Hardly surprising, given Lydia's ‘care and attention', she concluded, with a pang of something she really didn't want to identify.

‘Shall we?' he asked.

Annie jumped slightly, realising she was staring at him. Shall we? Shall we what? Her gaze dropped to his shins again. Surely he didn't mean –

‘Coconuts,' he clarified, the corners of his mouth curling up in such a sensuous manner that her toes followed suit.

‘Oh, yes, of course,' she blustered, inwardly cringing as colour crept into her cheeks. ‘Coconuts. Right.'

The three of them, and a delighted Pip, made their way to the shy where a great deal of raucous activity ensued. At least, raucous activity ensued on Jake and Sophie's part. Annie spent all her time trying not to drool over Jake's biceps as he aimed the balls at the unsuspecting coconuts. Despite his crutches, he managed to win not only a balloon, but also a teddy bear and a huge bag of sweets. Much to Sophie's delight.

‘Look, Mum, there's Jessica from school,' gushed Sophie, laden down with her booty. ‘Please may I show her our prizes?'

‘Okay,' said Annie. ‘But don't be too long. We're going to have something to eat soon.'

‘Hot dogs?'

‘With onions.'

‘Yay,' exclaimed Sophie, before bounding over to her friend.

‘She's a fantastic kid,' said Jake, as they watched Sophie chattering with her friend. ‘You've done a great job. You should be very proud.'

The wistful note in his voice caused something to twist in Annie's stomach. She turned her head to him. He was staring at a spot on the ground with the same sad expression she'd noticed the first time he'd been in her kitchen; the same sad expression she'd noticed as he'd gazed out of her car window on the way back from the hospital.

‘Anyway,' he continued, visibly snapping out of whatever it was he'd been thinking about. He turned to her, a bright smile on his face. ‘I haven't thanked you properly yet for taking me to the hospital the other night.'

Annie's brows snapped together. Yet again there was something in his tone she couldn't decipher. Was he thanking her or getting a dig in because she hadn't been to see him since? Honestly, talk about keeping you on your toes. Jake Sinclair did a better job of that than the troupe of Morris dancers. A few minutes in his company and she felt as though she'd been subjected to an emotional boot camp. The man was, frankly, exhausting. And Annie wasn't entirely sure she had the energy – or the desire – to keep up with him.

‘I'm sure you had much better things to do with your evening than spend it in A&E.'

Annie's eyes narrowed. Huh. Well that little remark neatly mopped up any confusion. He was being sarcastic. He and Lydia had most likely been sniggering again over her lack of social life. Well, they could both just go and –

Before she could tell him exactly what he and Lydia could do, Jake hissed, ‘Oh no. Hide. Quickly.'

In a flash, he hobbled to the side of the coconut shy.

Annie heaved an exasperated sigh before following him.

‘What now?' she snapped, her patience wearing.

‘Lydia.'

Annie furrowed her brow. ‘Lydia?'

Jake nodded. ‘Over there. Looking like she's on a mission. I really can't face her today.'

Annie screwed up her nose. ‘But I thought you two were …'

‘What?'

Despite her irritation, another flush of pink crept over Annie's cheeks. ‘You know.'

Jake gave an incredulous snort. ‘You don't mean – ?'

Annie tilted up her chin.

Jake's eyes grew wide. ‘Me and Lydia? Why on earth would you think – ?' His eyes narrowed. ‘Has she been saying something?'

Annie opened her mouth to tell him exactly what Lydia had been saying. Then promptly shut it again. She didn't want to sound like a petulant child, nor did she want to sound as if she cared. Because she didn't. Bar the fact that the two of them discussing her life did not sit well with her, it made absolutely no difference to her what they got up to. They were both consenting adults. They could do whatever they liked.

Jake, however, looked completely baffled. ‘Look, is this because you saw us together at the pub quiz? Because I can assure you that was nothing like how it appeared. I was sauntering down to the pub to get something to eat, when Lydia pulled up alongside me in her car. I stupidly told her where I was heading and that I couldn't stay long because I had a chapter to finish. So she offered to pick me up on her way back from wherever it was she was going. I insisted there was no need. But the next thing I know, there she is, trussed up like a microwave chicken, whisking me away. But all she did was chauffeur me back to the manor.'

Annie chewed her bottom lip as she considered this information. Was he telling the truth? Since Lance, she didn't trust a word any man said. And Lydia had sounded pretty convincing with her ‘Jake and I …' speeches.

‘And then she appointed herself my “nurse”,' he continued, his tone turning scornful. ‘Which is utterly ridiculous. Not only do I not need a nurse, but prancing about the manor in high heels and very little else makes me nauseous and puts Lydia in grave danger of catching a cold.'

Despite her circumspection, Annie bit back a smile as she continued to monitor his expression. Not an easy task given the startlingly well laid-out features and dark twinkling eyes. Perhaps he was telling the truth. She might never trust another man but Lydia wasn't exactly Veritas personified, was she?

Jake heaved a frustrated sigh. ‘If there was one place I could not imagine Lydia, it was the village fair.'

All at once, Lydia's highlighted head appeared around the side of the shy. Annie, startled out of her cogitations, jumped slightly, an action which seemed to pass Lydia by, given that it was plainly not Annie she was stalking.

‘Thank goodness I've found you, Jake,' she gushed. ‘But what on earth are you doing hiding around here?' Two heavily-lined eyes peered first at Jake and then at Annie. Neither of them replied.

‘I wondered if I might have a private word, Jake.' Her dramatically lowered tone implied a matter of great secrecy.

Jake screwed up his nose. ‘I doubt there's any need for that. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Annie, surely.'

Lydia tossed a sour look at Annie.

‘All right,' she huffed. ‘The thing is, darling, I hope you're not too upset, but there's been a crisis in Marbella. I have to fly out there later this afternoon.'

Annie's eyes widened. She had a strong idea of the type of ‘crisis' Lydia was referring to and it didn't involve earthquakes, tsunamis or political coups. ‘Marbella? Don't tell me Darren has been on the phone again.'

Lydia shook back her mane of hair. ‘Actually he has. He's hit a low spot and has realised how much he needs me.'

Annie bit her tongue. A ‘low spot' for Darren meant he was currently between topless model girlfriends and had called Lydia to temporarily plug the gap.

‘I know we're divorced,' she offered by way of explanation, ‘but after twenty months and six days of marriage, we still have a special little bond.'

Which seems to be elastic, Annie resisted adding. She would bet her life savings on Lydia being home within three weeks, but had long since concluded that the woman knew exactly what she was doing. Revelling in the attention of these ‘reconciliations' and Darren's six figure ‘consolation cheques' seemed of far more import to Lydia than the maintenance of her pride.

‘Oh, and don't be surprised if you see us on the front of the celebrity magazines next week,' she chirruped. ‘I've given a couple of them a little tinkle to update them and they're sending photographers over to the villa. Anyway, darling, I'm sure you'll cope perfectly well without me. Little Annie here can look after you.' She blew a kiss at Jake, tossed Annie a derisive smile and disappeared back around the shy.

‘Well,' huffed Jake, a few seconds later. ‘Thank goodness she and I weren't … Otherwise I might be a tad devastated by that news. Fortunately we weren't and I'm not.'

Annie shook her head in disbelief. ‘Honestly, talk about fickle. I can't wait to read the magazine spreads'

‘Many a sleepless night will ensue until I have copies in my hands,' said Jake. ‘Remind me to pre-order at the newsagent.'

As they both burst out laughing, Sophie appeared.

‘What are you doing around here? And what are you laughing at?'

‘Um, nothing and nothing,' said Annie, doing her best to keep a straight face. ‘Mr Sinclair and I were just … discussing something.'

‘Something funny?'

‘Boring grown-up stuff,' replied Jake. ‘You wouldn't find it funny at all. Now, what did Jessica think of your crown?'

‘It didn't fit her. Her head's too big,' chuckled Sophie. ‘Please can we go and get our hot dogs now, Mum? I'm hungry.'

‘Of course,' said Annie. She cast a sheepish look at Jake. ‘Would you, um, like to join us?'

Jake gazed directly into her eyes. ‘I'd love to.'

His accompanying smile caused something warm and pleasant to course through Annie's veins, and her legs to turn to cotton wool. Which was pathetic, she scolded herself. As was her relief at discovering he had not been carrying on with Lydia: He had been telling her the truth and now she felt guilty for doubting him; guilty that perhaps she'd been too hard on him all round.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘Sorry sweetheart, but we're all out of hot dogs' informed the chubby vendor. ‘First time it's ever happened. How about a nice burger instead?'

Sophie looked distraught. ‘I wanted a hot dog,' she whimpered, two plump tears rolling down her cheeks.

Annie scooped her up. ‘Come on. It's not that disastrous. And you like burgers.'

‘Not today, I don't. And Pip wanted a hot dog too.' She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a huge yawn.

‘That's the problem, not the hot dogs,' said Annie. ‘All this excitement has worn you out. How about we go home, you have a little nap and we'll have a barbeque for tea?'

Sophie nuzzled her head into Annie's neck for a few seconds, seemingly giving the matter a great deal of thought. ‘Can Mr Sinclair come too?' she eventually asked.

Annie's gaze shifted to Jake to discover, yet again, that he was looking at her. A strange mix of apprehension, excitement and dread washed over her. She really would have to have a word with her daughter about putting her on the spot like this. For now, though, she was right bang in the centre of the spot which meant she would have to say something – and soon. Did she want to invite Jake or not? Dare she risk making a fool of herself yet again, or would it be nice having some adult company for a change? Then there were Jake's feelings to consider. The poor soul was, whether he liked it or not, squeezed right alongside her on the spot. Would he want to come? Or had he much more exciting things to do with his Saturday night, like a pile of friends descending on the manor for an enormous party? And why did that thought make her spirits plunge? She cleared her throat and said, ‘Mr Sinclair probably has plans for the rest of the day.'

‘Actually I don't,' replied Jake. ‘Unless, of course, you'd like me to.'

His reply caused an unexpected wave of relief to wash over Annie. Not that she'd been subconsciously holding her breath, she assured herself, but merely because she didn't relish the idea of Jasper's rowdy crowd treating the manor like a twenty-four hour rave venue.

‘Well,' she said, unable to stop a smile spreading onto her face, ‘if you'd like to join us you'd be very welcome. It won't be anything exciting. A few sausages and burgers –'

‘– and hot dogs,' added Sophie.

‘Dipped in chocolate?'

Sophie burst into a fit of giggles.

As Annie drove them back to the cottage, Jake sat in the back of the car, Sophie's sleeping head on his shoulder, a snoring Jack Russell on his lap.
What was he doing?
he asked himself.
Having a great day
, came back the reply. Lydia's departure being the cherry on the cake. At least now he could breathe freely again, without inhaling a cloud of the woman's noxious perfume, and without his every move being monitored. The real highlight of the day though, had been bumping into Annie and Sophie. He hadn't planned that at all, although the thought had fleetingly crossed his mind – once or twice, or perhaps even five times – that they might be there. He'd had no idea what reception to expect from Annie. Having given the evening at the hospital a great deal of consideration, he'd concluded that it wasn't just him being hyper-sensitive: she'd been very cool towards him. It suddenly occurred to him that it might have had something to do with Lydia. Lord only knew what she'd been saying. He really didn't want to go there but, skirting around the edges, he had a fairly good idea. And supposedly fraternizing with the locals when he had only been in the village for two minutes, did not a good impression make.

Fortunately, Annie's impressive flight over Pip's lead had broken the ice. As that image popped into his head, laughter rose in his throat. He hastily disguised it as a cough as Annie's emerald-green eyes shot him a questioning look through the rear view mirror. Those eyes really were incredible, he mused. Along with her legs – which looked longer than ever in her black shorts – they were to blame for that cheesy comment he'd blurted out after her spectacular trip. ‘Yes, you are,' he'd muttered, in reply to her, ‘I'm fine'. Ugh. He cringed at the memory. And god only knew what Annie thought of it. He hadn't meant to say it. The words had floated out before he could stop them. A faultless demonstration of just how out of practice he was with flirting. Not that he had been flirting. He had merely been admiring a beautiful woman, in the same way he might admire a priceless painting or a magnificent house. And just because one admired a priceless painting or a magnificent house, didn't mean one actually desired them, did it? It was simple appreciation. Didn't women admire fine male specimens in the same way? Surely they must. Look at all those Greek statues of naked men at –