Forty Things to Do Before You're Forty (15 page)

‘Before you ask, he's still as mad as a hatter,' snorted Jasper. ‘Just split up with his latest squeeze and fancied a bit of a change. So I thought, why the hell not go up north and see what Jakey boy is up to. Poor bugger will most likely be bored to Bedlam. What is it you're supposed to be doing here again?'

‘Writing a book,' muttered Jake, trying desperately not to let his smile slide southwards.

‘Good lord. Writing a book, eh? Sounds far too much like hard work to me. I wouldn't have the patience. Attention span of a gnat, that's me. Anyway, please do excuse my manners.' He turned his attention to Tanya, who had adopted a provocative leaning stance against the car. ‘Who's your lovely friend here?'

Having briefly wondered if the day could get any worse, Jake now knew it could. ‘Tanya Langstaff,' he muttered. ‘Tanya, this is Jasper Pinkington-Smythe.'

Tanya's hand flew to her chest and her smoky eyes grew wide. ‘Wow, what an honour.'

‘The honour is all mine, I can assure you.' Jasper ran an appraising eye over her mini-skirted person. ‘Now, may I ask if you like partying, Tanya Langstaff?'

‘Oh, I do,' gushed Tanya, with a flutter of eyelashes. ‘Are you having a party here this evening?'

‘We are having a party here, but why wait until this evening? No time like the present, I say. You got the bubbly out the car yet, Rupes?' Jasper called over to the yellow jeans.

‘Certainly have,' came back the reply.

‘Perfect.' He proffered his arm to Tanya. ‘Shall we?'

‘Oh, we most certainly shall,' she simpered.

Watching the pair as they made their way into the house, Jake leaned against Tanya's car, scratched his head and wondered what on earth was going on. In less than an hour he'd shared a strange experience with Annie, been knocked off his feet by Tanya, and, at just past midday, was about to join, what he very much suspected would be, a wild – and very long - party. All he wanted was a few weeks in a quiet, atmospheric setting to write his book. Was that really too much to ask?

As Jasper called to him over his shoulder to hurry up, it appeared it was.

CHAPTER NINE

An hour after Jake and Tanya's unceremonious exit from the shop, Annie's prevailing feeling was of having been slapped across the face with a wet haddock. Still she failed to make any sense of what had occurred between her and Jake. She'd never experienced anything like it in her entire life. It had been off-the-scale weird – as if, for a few seconds, the rest of the world had blurred, and only the two of them had existed. But of course it wasn't only the two of them that existed. Tanya Long Legs, or whatever she was called, existed too – in the shapely form of Jake's mini-skirted girlfriend.

Annie gave herself a mental kick. How could she have thought for one moment that a man like Jake wouldn't have a woman in his life? But why hadn't he mentioned Tanya before? It wasn't as if he hadn't had the opportunity. He'd had plenty. Which could only mean one thing: he'd been leading Annie on. Letting her think he was single when he so wasn't. Huh! And just when she'd been starting to think he was decent.

‘If you ask me, he looked none too pleased to see her,' Mrs Mackenzie had remarked.

Well of course he didn't
, Annie had resisted saying. He'd been rumbled.

‘Far too barefaced that Tanya for my liking,' Mrs M had continued, as she scuttled out of the shop. ‘I can't imagine a man like Jake Sinclair having the remotest interest in someone like that.'

Huh, thought Annie.
A man like Jake Sinclair?
And what sort of man was that exactly? From what she'd just witnessed, Jake was obviously just like all the rest of them. And she'd almost been sucked in. Again. For the last few days – following the ‘near kiss' incident – Annie had imagined Jake to be someone special, someone she would like to spend time with, get to know better. Someone she would even have let kiss her. But ‘imagined' was the key word here. She'd imagined he might like her too, imagined he enjoyed spending time with her and Sophie, imagined he might want to kiss her as much as she'd wanted to kiss him. But it seems like all Jake had been interested in was a conquest for the few weeks he was in Buttersley. Lydia would have been too easy. Annie had been more of a challenge. And one he'd very nearly conquered. Before he headed back up the road to Scotland – leaving her to pick up the pieces of her life, again.

‘Ah, here she is. And looking every bit as delicious as her cakes.'

Annie's musings were broken by a tall figure loping through the door, wearing obscenely tight leather trousers.

‘Jasper,' she gasped, not at all sure she could cope with any more surprises today. ‘I didn't know you were coming.'

‘Nor did I, sweetie.' He marched around to her side of the counter, clutched her upper arms and air-kissed both her cheeks. ‘Poor Rupes was a bit bored with our usual haunts so I suggested we come up here and see what old Jakey was up to. You've met him, I assume?' He released his hold of her arms and took a step back.

‘Jake?' Annie was aware of a flush spreading over her cheeks at the mere mention of his name. ‘Of course I've met him. But it would have been nice if you'd told me he was coming. I thought he was a burglar.'

‘Hah,' snorted Jasper. ‘Didn't call the Old Bill, did you? That would have been hilarious.'

Despite the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Annie couldn't prevent a smile tugging at her lips. Unlike Jasper's friends, whom she'd always found arrogant and ungrateful, there was something annoyingly endearing about the man himself, however much she wished there wasn't. ‘Fortunately no emergency services were involved. But they easily could have been. If you'd given me prior notice of his visit, not only would it have saved my nerves, but I could have had the place ready for him.'

‘Lord, don't worry about that,' countered Jasper, examining a vase of cupcake ‘flowers'. ‘You've enough to do without running around after us wasters. Like looking after that gorgeous daughter of yours. How are you both anyway?'

‘We're fine,' lied Annie, feeling as far away from fine as Jasper was from reality. ‘How are you? Working hard as usual?'

Jasper pressed a hand to his chest and affected a hurt expression. ‘Do not mention the “W” word, Annie. You know how it brings on my palpitations.'

Annie shook her head in mock despair. ‘You are incorrigible, Jasper. You know that, don't you?'

‘Have been since the day I was born. Yet another family trait passed down the line, I'm afraid. Blame the bloody ancestors, I say.'

‘So,' she swatted away his hand from the vase. ‘Is it just you and Rupert who are visiting, or the usual gang?'

‘Usual gang, of course, darling. Can't seem to shake them off. And Rupes only brought three cases of bubbly, which will last all of five minutes. So naturally, yours truly here got dispatched to the village to top up supplies. Not that I'm complaining. It gave me the perfect excuse to pop in here and invite you to our little soiree.'

Annie screwed up her nose. ‘Thanks, Jasper, but I don't think so. How long are you staying?'

‘No idea. A few days probably, until Rupes is bored again. Honestly, why can't I have normal, sensible friends?'

‘Perhaps because you're not normal and sensible,' suggested Annie, chuckling.

‘How well you know me,' chortled Jasper. ‘Now, must be on my way otherwise I'll miss all the fun. You know where to find us if you change your mind.' He blew her a kiss, turned on his heel and exited the shop.

In Buttersley Manor's great hall, Jake's head and heart vibrated to the beat of the hideous techno music. From his observation point – a high-backed leather chair in the corner – he could scarce believe what he was witnessing. It was like he'd been transported back two decades to his university days – days from which Jasper and his crowd had never moved on. Despite their advancing years, it was glaringly obvious that not one of them had grown up. Most likely because they'd never had to. So obscenely wealthy were their families that every whim was catered for without them lifting a solitary finger. Just like at university. Unlike Jake, who had worked his balls off at the local comprehensive for his place, a seven-figure cheque apiece to the library appeal had secured their places: cheques that had bought three years of partying and ignominious academic success.

Of course he was aware that some might class them as lucky. Their privilege and money meant they would never experience hardship, never know the pressures of work, never have to forfeit a holiday for repairs to the garage roof. But, watching them now, Jake's overriding emotion was disgust intermingled with pity. Their lives were shallow, empty, completely without purpose. They would never know the thrill of achievement, the satisfaction of hard work, or the contentment of a proper relationship. Whilst they might appear to be living the high life, partying every night, jetting off to their luxury villas, mixing with the beautiful people, scratch beneath the surface and you'd find a neurotic, self-absorbed mess.

Still, none of the above got around the fact that Jasper, who Jake had always considered the best of the bunch, had been kind enough to offer him use of the manor. An offer Jake had accepted without many qualms. An offer he now felt incredibly guilty about accepting without many qualms. So, instead of being so sanctimonious and judgemental, he should make more of an effort, he chided himself. With that thought in mind, he forced a smile onto his face and took a half-hearted sip of champagne.

Several hours later, Jake hadn't moved from the high-backed chair. While everyone else knocked backed the champagne with wild abandon, he still nursed his original glass. He'd never been a fan of daytime drinking. Unlike Tanya, it seemed. At some point in the proceedings, she'd swapped her red mini-skirt for a tiny gold sequinned dress – the obvious item to pack for a few days in the Yorkshire countryside. Performing some outlandish dirty dance moves with Jasper in the middle of the floor, it appeared that the purpose of her visit – to persuade Jake to agree to the film deal – had evidently slipped her mind, along with any concept of professionalism. He'd bet her superiors at the agency would be very interested to hear about her antics. Not that he intended telling them. He couldn't be bothered. Tanya's career – or lack of it – didn't interest him in the slightest. Nor, at that moment, did anything of a literary nature. Perhaps he should draw a line under the whole writing thing. He really wasn't enjoying it any more. In fact, what had started as a pleasant method of filling time and escaping the real world, had now become way too stressful. He should investigate alternative ways of spending his days. Stock up on jigsaws or model aeroplanes, something without deadlines – and, more importantly, no interference from the real world.

‘You look like you need a bit of cheering up, old chap.'

Jake looked up to find Rupert hovering over him, a spaced-out expression on his gaunt face. He held up a clear plastic packet of small white pills and shook it at Jake. ‘One of these might help.'

As Jake gawped at the packet, he felt as though a cement mixer had replaced his innards. Vomit rose in his throat.

‘You all right, old boy?' slurred Rupert, a cloud of what might have been concern settling over his face.

Jake couldn't reply. Shoving Rupert aside, he scrambled to his feet with his crutches and, ignoring the pain in his ankle, all but ran from the room.

He headed straight for the main door. Outside, he leaned against the stone wall, closed his eyes, and gulped down great mouthfuls of fresh air. No amount of air, though, could prevent the images rioting in his head: Images of the chubby policeman breaking the news of Nina's death; images of coffins, headstones and mangled cars. Images the bag of white pills had brought crashing back to him – along with another ton of that unmentionable emotion.

Arriving back at the cottage with Sophie later that afternoon, the scene at the manor house was much as Annie expected: a row of outrageously expensive cars parked outside, semi-clad stick-thin women running around; and loud music blasting from open windows.

‘What's going on?' demanded Sophie.

‘Uncle Jasper is here,' said Annie, doing her best to sound positive. ‘With a few friends.'

Sophie's eyes narrowed. ‘How many friends?'

‘I'm not sure, sweetheart.'

Sophie wrinkled her little nose. ‘Is Mr Sinclair there too?'

‘I believe so,' replied Annie matter-of-factly. She pushed aside the image of Tanya wrapped around Jake and ignored the ensuing pain in her gut.

‘Oh,' muttered Sophie.

‘Quite,' agreed Annie.

Bedtime couldn't come round quickly enough for Annie. Not Sophie's, but her own. She could scarcely wait to crawl under the duvet and block out the day's events. Providing, of course, she could get to sleep. With the music still booming from the manor, hopes were not high. Fortunately, it didn't bother Sophie. Wearing her panda earmuffs, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Annie wandered back downstairs, already missing her daughter's chatter. The child's never-ending stream of questions allowed no room for introspection, which was great because Annie was all introspected out today. She was tired of thinking, weary of analysing. But she couldn't go to bed yet. It was far too early. She needed something to fill the void left by Sophie, something to divert her thoughts from Jake Sinclair and Tanya Long Legs. She ambled into the lounge and flicked through the TV guide. A programme on ancient Rome was about to start. That sounded interesting. She'd watch that then go to bed – regardless of the hour.

The programme
was
interesting – not least of all because of the number of people who appeared to make their living examining ancient Roman poo. Try as she might though, Annie paid the programme no more than scant attention. Her mind insisted on straying to the manor. And the conjuring up of images of what might be happening there was not helped by the pictures of ancient Roman friezes. Yet again she wondered what Jake was doing. And yet again wished she hadn't. He'd be with Tanya of course. Doing what two people did when they'd been apart a while.