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Sarah's Secret
Sarah's Secret
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Sarah's Secret

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‘Whatever you want. What time do you get back from Davy’s school?’

‘About six.’

‘I’ll be here soon after, then.’ He looked down at her for a moment, then bent and kissed her forehead. ‘Goodnight, Sarah Tracy.’

‘Goodnight, Jake Hogan.’ She stepped back, her eyes suddenly serious. ‘Thank you for this evening. I enjoyed it very much.’

‘So did I.’ Jake followed her to the front door. ‘Next time you can introduce me to your grandmother,’ he said with a grin, and crossed the pavement to his car.

Sarah watched him get in, raised her hand in response to his wave as he drove off, then went back in the house and closed the door, her eyes wistful. The man was a charmer. Unlike comfortable, friendly Oliver, or staid, unimpassioned Brian, it would be all too easy to fall in love with Jake Hogan.

CHAPTER FOUR

SARAH was about to leave the office on Friday afternoon to collect Davy, when Alison Rogers rang her cellphone number.

‘Sarah, I’m in a fix. My car won’t start, and Don’s in London until tonight—’

‘No problem, I’ll pick Polly up,’ said Sarah promptly. ‘You just caught me; I’m on my way right now.’

‘You’re an angel! I’ll ring the school and let them know. See you soon—I’ll have tea and buns waiting.’

When Sarah collected them later Polly and Davina were in tearing spirits to be going home together, and full of their practice for sports day. They piled into the car, straw boaters askew, gingham dresses rumpled, both of them excited because Davy had beaten everyone in her class in the sprint.

‘But Polly came second at skipping,’ added Davy.

‘Well done, both of you!’

Polly smiled at Sarah expectantly. ‘Are you staying to tea? Mummy always bakes stuff on Friday, ready for when I come home.’

‘Please can we?’ urged Davy, hovering as Sarah stowed their belongings away.

‘Yes, but we won’t stay long. I’m sure Polly’s mummy saw quite enough of you last weekend. Now, tell me what else you two have been up to this week, besides races. How about boring stuff like sums, and so on?’

When they arrived at the Rogers house, Alison came running out to greet them. ‘You saved my life,’ she said gratefully, after embracing her daughter. ‘Take Davy off to wash hands, Polly. Sit down, Sarah,’ she added, ‘you look tired. Hard day?’

‘No more than usual. It’s just a rush on Fridays to get off on time to drive to Roedale.’

‘Davy told me you work at home in the evenings as well.’

‘Part of the deal with my employers. It only takes up an hour or so.’ Sarah shrugged, smiling. ‘In my circumstances the arrangement’s very convenient. When Davy’s home I work after she’s gone to bed.’

‘Hard graft just the same.’ Alison put plates of cupcakes and cookies on the table, went to call the girls, then sat down to pour tea.

‘Thank you,’ said Sarah, accepting her cup. ‘I rang my grandmother before I left to tell her we’d be later today.’

‘I’ve heard a lot about Grandma. Though I thought she was your mother.’

‘No, she dotes on Davy, but she’s actually my grandmother.’

Davina came running in with Polly, very much at home in her friend’s house. The girls polished off several cakes and cookies, swallowed down large glasses of the milk Davy always objected to at home, then rushed out to play in the garden.

‘Peace at last,’ said Alison with satisfaction, and refilled Sarah’s cup. ‘Have another cookie to assuage my guilt.’

‘Why guilt?’ said Sarah, amused.

‘It suddenly struck me that you’ll be picking Polly up next week as well.’

‘I don’t mind in the least. But I’ll have that cookie. They’re delicious.’

‘With the life you lead I don’t suppose you get much time for baking,’ said Alison with sympathy.

Sarah shook her head, laughing. ‘Actually, I do. Since Davy started boarding I have a lot more time to myself, socially and otherwise. But no baking. I’m hopeless at it. Lucky for us, my grandmother’s an expert. She also makes Sunday lunch for the three of us.’ Sarah smiled. ‘But during the week I fend for myself, or go out. Something I do a lot more than I used to now Davy’s in school. Beforehand I hated the thought of parting with her, even on a weekly basis, but now she’s settled in I confess I’m rather enjoying my new freedom.’

When she was finally able to tear Davy away Sarah drove home to find a message on her machine, but she sent Davy off to find Margaret before she allowed herself to listen to it.

‘Jake, Sarah,’ said familiar tones. ‘Just reminding you about Sunday.’

As if she needed reminding! But she played the message again twice, just to listen to his voice. Like a schoolgirl with a first crush, she thought sheepishly.

Margaret came down with Davy to announce that she was going out shortly, and had taken the liberty of making the sauce for their pasta supper.

Davy’s eyes lit up. ‘With lots of tomato in it? Goody.’

‘Thank you, Grandma,’ said Sarah shortly. ‘But I could have managed.’

‘Out of a jar, no doubt,’ said Margaret, after Davy rushed off to change. ‘By the way,’ she added coldly, ‘more flowers came for you today. I put them in water in the kitchen.’

‘Who are they from?’ said Sarah, surprised.

‘I’ve no idea. The card was addressed to you.’

Sarah hurried to the kitchen to take a card from the envelope propped beside an enormous bunch of brilliantly coloured zinnias. ‘They’re from Jake Hogan,’ she told her grandmother, who had followed behind to find out.

‘Again,’ commented Margaret. ‘He obviously enjoyed the evening with you.’

‘We both did. I asked him in when he drove me home.’

‘You’ve never done that before,’ said Margaret accusingly.

‘Don’t worry. He didn’t stay long.’

‘I know. I heard him leave.’

‘Then you know exactly how long he stayed,’ said Sarah evenly.

Margaret’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t mean to be hard on you, Sarah, but you’re obviously attracted to this man, so do please be careful. Try to look at things from my point of view.’


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