Just Say Yes (21 page)

Clicking his fingers to Tally, he left her, too stunned to move. Too shocked at being offered a choice that made her life ten times more complicated than it already was. Because Josh had just made staying in Tresco Creek seem not only possible, but more tempting than she could ever have imagined.

After leaving Lucy in the dunes, Josh still couldn’t believe what he’d just done even as he saw the familiar chimneys of Tresco Farmhouse come into view. He couldn’t believe he had asked—make that
tried
to
persuade
—this girl to stay on in Cornwall when she had a well-paid job to return to in London. Hell, he’d gone and offered her a job as a cleaner.

“Tally!” he called as the dog sniffed the length of the farmhouse wall, searching for familiar smells.

“
Are
you
denying
that
some
bloke’s the cause of you being here? What you said the other night about running away from someone, was it him?
”

He cringed as he recalled his words to Lucy, wondering if he’d done the right thing by making his job offer. Back there in the dunes, it had seemed exactly the right thing to do. When he’d seen her standing there against the sea and sky, trying to pretend she was happy to go home to London, he’d hadn’t been able to stop himself throwing her a lifeline. There was surely nothing wrong with that, he decided, but what if… what if he hadn’t had Lucy’s welfare at heart when he’d asked her to stay? He wasn’t normally given to navel gazing or analyzing his motives, but this was one feeling he couldn’t ignore. What if he’d been so insistent that she stay not to help her—but because he couldn’t bear her to leave?

***

Lucy was still telling herself it was impossible that she could stay as she walked back along the beach to Creekside Cottage later that afternoon.
Still
telling herself as she squashed clothes into her bulging suitcase while Fiona clicked away manically in the main bedroom.

Her own little room was stuffy. The mercury in the old thermometer in the hall had nudged its way higher that afternoon, and even now it was stifling. She’d thrown open the window to get some air but found the air as thick as porridge.

She’d already stripped to her bra and knickers to try and keep cool and was thinking of going the whole hog when she caught sight of herself in the mirror and held her breath. She’d changed. Her hair was brushing her shoulders, wild and curly. She’d given up on her straightening irons after a week in Tresco, the moist sea air defeating every attempt to tame her hair into submission. Only now did she realize that she’d given up caring too. Why spend her life trying to iron out crinkles that were natural?

The “office pallor” Sara had kindly pointed out had been replaced by a glow that wasn’t Josh’s deep gold, but was pale straw or clear honey. She must have lost a few pounds too, which she had Hengist to thank for. She found herself smiling, for once, quite liking what she saw in the mirror, at least on the outside.

Inside, she had to admit, she’d changed too. She’d learned how to lie pretty well for a start.

A bloke, Josh had said, that’s what brought you running away down here, and he was right. But Josh obviously thought that it was Nick who’d been doing the hurting, the “fucking around,” when in fact it was her.

Downstairs in the hall, the grandfather clock chimed a quarter to seven. She wondered if Josh was waiting for her answer or if he’d forgotten he’d even asked. She stood a minute longer then snatched up the nearest piece of clothing from the rug. Shrugging on a pair of flip-flops, she headed down the stairs past an overheated Hengist who was dozing in the hall. As she stepped over him, his ears pricked and he gave a small howl of expectation.

“Not now, boy. Tomorrow.”

“Luce! Is that you?” came Fiona’s voice from up above.

“Back later, Fi! Just off for a walk.”

“If you’re going to the garage, can you please get some more red wine?”

But Lucy was already through the door. Hurrying down the path and out of the gate, she crossed the yard to Tresco Farmhouse, its gray facade lit by the coppery sunset. The pickup wasn’t outside and her heart sank. Josh must have left already, forgetting his offer—or perhaps, regretting it? Hands on her hips, she stopped outside the gate. To her surprise, she was breathing quite hard.

The farmhouse door opened and Tally ran out, followed by Josh, keys jingling in his hand. When he saw her, he waited. She made her legs move and walked over to him. He said nothing as she drew near then, as she reached the back door, she was sure he was frowning at her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Only…”

“Yes?” she panted, slightly worried by his expression. She was sure he seemed about to say something serious. Maybe he
was
regretting the invitation…

His expression suddenly softened. “I was just wondering if that was your idea of an interview suit?”

She glanced down at her sequined clubbing top, her office pencil skirt, and her little heeled flip-flops with the faded flower between the toes. “I was halfway through packing,” she said.

“Halfway? That close?”

“Yes. That close. I thought you’d gone out. The truck wasn’t here.”

“It’s at the sailing club. I was on my way there now, in fact.” He held open the door. “But it can wait. Come in.”

Lucy stepped through the doorway into the farmhouse. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the deep shadows of the room. A few stray shafts of evening sunlight managed to penetrate the thick panes, sliding along the quarry tiles and over the scrubbed wood of the farmhouse table. Box files, official-looking envelopes and a windsurfing magazine were scattered on the table. Washing-up was piled on the draining board next to a Belfast sink. The room smelled of lemon, old age, and something vaguely herby.

“Well, this is me,” said Josh, resting his jean-clad backside against the countertop as Lucy hovered in front of the kitchen range.

“It’s nice. Cozy,” said Lucy, really meaning it. “What’s that lovely smell?”

“Probably coriander, possibly mint.” He pointed to a casserole on the countertop. “I’ve been making a lamb tagine.”

“Oh. You cook then?”

“Yes. And wash up, make beds, and clean toilets. In fact, I’m almost half civilized. Are you that surprised?”

“No, of course not,” said Lucy, embarrassed. “You’ll have to give me the recipe for the tagine.”

“Do you cook, then?”

“Occasionally… sometimes… OK, I admit, I barely know my way around an Indian menu, but I don’t want to sound like a complete stranger to domesticity.”

“Then you can relax because no cooking is required for this job. Why don’t you sit down?”

“Thanks.”

Lucy settled awkwardly into the wooden chair but Josh stayed where he was. Over in the corner, Tally lapped at a bowl of water, her chain clinking against the enamel.

“Can I get you a drink? Tea? Beer?”

“No, but thanks for the offer.”

He folded his arms, his gray T-shirt tautening across his chest. “OK. You haven’t come here to share recipes or for a nice cup of Earl Grey, so let’s not mess about anymore. Have you made a decision?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve been thinking about it carefully, and I’d like to stay in Tresco, at least for a few months. If you don’t mind having me on that basis, I’d like to take the job.”

A narrow shaft of sunlight skimmed one side of his body from feet to face, leaving the rest in darkness, so that she couldn’t quite see whether he was pleased or sorry that she’d said yes.

Then he levered himself off the countertop and stepped into the light. “Then it’s yours, but I meant what I said about it being menial stuff. Cleaning bathrooms, emptying rubbish, making beds. Clearing up after people and doing the key changeovers. Are you sure it’s what you really want?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure about anything anymore, but I promise to stay until the end of the season, then I’ll decide. Is that any good to you?”

He hesitated a moment then nodded. “Fair enough. You do know I can only pay you just over the minimum wage, don’t you? It’ll be a shock after what you’re used to.”

“What? You mean there won’t be a fat bonus? No stock options?”

“And no company car, either, but I could loan you a board and sail.” He smiled. “Where are you going to stay?”

“In Creekside, if Fi will have me.”

“What about your place in London? Your job?”

“I’ve got it sorted,” replied Lucy, which wasn’t
strictly
true, but it was a very skinny fib compared to previous big fat lies. “There’s no need to feel guilty for having suggested I stay here, if that’s what’s worrying you,” she added.

“I’m not worried. You seem like a woman who knows her own mind. I can’t imagine you dithering over any decision.”

“Dither? Me? I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“You know, I have to be honest. When we first met I thought you were a bit, um… dippy, but since you’ve been here, I’ve seen you change. Become more determined. Oh shit, tell me to mind my own business.”

“Josh, it’s fine. I appreciate it. After all, I’m hardly a domestic goddess.”

He hesitated and seemed to be looking her up and down as if trying to work out whether she bore any resemblance to Nigella Lawson. I should be so lucky, she thought, her cheeks heating gently under his appraisal.

“I’m glad about that, because I don’t need a goddess, just a cleaner and someone to be friendly to the guests. I’m not doing you a favor, Lucy, you’re doing me one. Now I can concentrate on getting the place into shape and making it pay. It’s high time I took it seriously, for Marnie’s sake.”

He stepped forward into a beam of soft light. He held out his hand and she took it. It wasn’t a Gideon handshake, her fingers weren’t being crushed, yet it was thrillingly firm, all the same. The air in the kitchen was hot and still, dust motes dancing in the beam of light as Josh gently relinquished her hand. “There’s one more thing I need to say before we start,” he said, rather too ominously for her liking.

“Oh gosh, that sounds serious.”

He gave her that look, and she knew exactly what he was going to say and that it would sound really nice but would, actually, be something quite humiliating. He was going to say something about them being friends, that he was only doing this to help her out because
he
felt
sorry
for
her
. If he did, she thought, she was off back to London in a flash.

“Yes, what is it?” she said.

“Just…” He raked a hand over his head. “I wouldn’t want you to think that I meant… anything by offering you the job. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to make you beholden to me, or that I’d try to take advantage or anything.”

“Josh, I know you’ve just offered me a job and I should be polite, but please, just shut up. I needed a job, you needed a cleaner. That’s it,” she said.

“Yeah. Sure. Sorry. I’m better if I keep my mouth shut.”

“On this occasion, yes, you are.” She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. “I’m going to London to sort out a few—um, minor details, but shall I see you next weekend?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

She crossed to the door.

“Lucy, could you hold on a minute. There’s just one more thing…”

Just
one
more
thing?
Lucy’s blood ran, if not cold, then less than lukewarm. Because that’s just what TV detectives always said.
Just
as the villain had his or her handle on the door, congratulating themselves that they’d got away after all.
Just
before the detective moved with the killer question that was going to get them sent down for good.

She turned with a smile. “Yes, Josh?”

“I’ll need all that boring crap for the tax. Your personal details…”

“My personal details?”

“I’m afraid so. You know, address, NI number—for the paperwork.”

“You already know my name.”

“Yes, but I need you to fill in some forms. I’m a clean-living lad these days and I want to make it all official with the tax.”

Bugger, bugger, bugger. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? He’d have to know her real name, of course, and if he did he might recognize it, Google her, anything, or even tell Sara.

“I know it would be more money for you if I just gave you cash in hand but I play by the rules, even if they are a load of crap.”

“Of course you must do everything by the book. I wouldn’t expect anything else. You’re self-employed and there are rules and… oh, Josh, can’t we do all of this another time? I’ve only just got used to the idea of changing my entire life and I need to go back to the cottage and make Fiona speechless for the first time in her life.”