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‘Your mum? Your dad? Their dad?’ Christian sank onto his bed as the world began to tip a little sideways. Was the room too small for four people? Because it felt like he was losing oxygen.
‘My mum passed away when I was five. My father passed away not long ago. And, their father is… not on the scene.’ The last four words were soft, but there was no missing the steely tone. The boys’ father was not a topic up for discussion when the boys were around.
Christian ran his hand through his hair. ‘Okay, so they’re coming with us.’ He turned his gaze on the boys. ‘We’re going to have to set some rules, though. If your mother or I are talking to an adult, you can’t interrupt. And you can’t get rowdy like you were out in the corridor. Consider yourself Rabbits Leap ambassadors. Pretend you’re fine, upstanding young men… or something.’
‘Pretend?’ Jody frowned, but a smirk threated to ruin her act.
‘Fine.’ Christian grinned. ‘Act like the fine, upstanding young men I know you to be. And no saying “cock-up”. At least not within the earshot of adults.’
‘Yes, sir,’ the boys chorused, saluting Christian. Their little faces solemn, their eyes glinting with good humour.
Christian fought the urge to reach out and ruffle their hair as Jody had done earlier. They were good kids. But it was better he kept his distance. Rabbits Leap was only a pit stop until he was sure things were going to blow over back home. There was no point forming attachments. Especially as he was incapable of living up to any “attachments” expectations.
‘I was also thinking they’d be quite good if we do end up needing a swing vote.’ Jody leaned against the windowsill.
‘But there’s two of them? What if they can’t agree? And do we really want to put the decisions in the hands of, what… a couple of eight-year-olds?’
‘Hey! We’re nine.’ Jordan stamped his foot and folded his arms across his chest.
‘Sorry. Nine-year-olds then.’ Christian nodded an apology to Jordan and Tyler, then looked over at Jody. ‘But really? We have to take this seriously.’
‘I am. This is a family festival. It’s for people of all ages. And who knows better what kids like than kids? Besides, they rarely disagree on anything. And if they do we’ll flip a coin. Or we’ll get Mrs Harper’s opinion.’
Christian’s heart broke out into another trot. ‘No, no need to get Mrs Harper involved. We’ll flip a coin.’
Jody’s smirk blossomed into a grin, one that revealed a cute dimple on her left cheek. What would it be like to touch, to kiss? The thought rose unbidden. What the hell was going on with him?
Christian leapt off the bed. Now was not the time to be thinking amorous thoughts. Now was the time to work. He could think amorous thoughts another time, about another woman. Definitely another woman. One not so obviously family-focused. One who would understand that work and winning came first. ‘Look, this room is no place for a meeting. It’s small. Cramped.’ And feeling more cramped by the second as he realised that Jody’s white paint-spattered tank top was ever so slightly see-through, revealing a hint of her bra. Lacy, latte-coloured. And housing two things he really shouldn’t be thinking about. ‘We need to get out, now.’ He charged for the door and made his way down the hallway, down the stairs and into The Bullion’s dining area, only knowing he was being followed because of the bang of his bedroom door closing, followed by multiple thumps of feet on floorboards closing in behind him.
***
What the heck had just gone on? Jody pondered as she stared at Christian’s back, which wasn’t so much taking the lead as beating some kind of retreat. One minute they were discussing the boys’ involvement, the next he’d bounded off the bed and bolted from the room.
But there had been a moment before that. A moment she thought she’d imagined. Or perhaps wanted to imagine. His eyes had flicked down, lingered on her top. Her chest. Then his eyes had widened, and he’d been up and gone. A man on a mission. Or a man looking to escape whatever was on his mind.
And what had been on his mind? Her? Jody glanced down at her top and saw it through new eyes. A man’s eyes. Oh. Her old painting tank top was a little see-through. And her bra was perhaps a little alluring. Not that she was trying to lure anyone with it. It was just there to hold up her boobs.
A shiver trailed its way down her spine. Why did she suddenly feel as if she’d exposed herself to Christian? Why hadn’t she brought another top in case it got chilly? Because it was summer. A warmer than usual summer at that. And why did she have a feeling things were only going to get hotter? Jody clenched her jaw. Nope. No heat here. Nothing steamy at all.
She followed the boys into the dining room and looked for the iced-water pitcher Tony always had filled and ready for customers. What she needed to do was drench herself in that, cool off… and give Christian a view of everything. Wet T-shirt competition styles. No. No water. She just needed to continue ignoring the fact that he was the hottest man she’d seen in years, while continuing to remember her number-one rule. No. Men. Allowed. Not until her boys were men. That was her rule and she was sticking with it.
And then what? The shiver returned, needling her conscience. And then what? Then she’d find another excuse, another way to keep her heart locked up, wrapped in chains and buried down a concrete-filled well.
‘Mum.’ Tyler tugged at her hand. ‘Where is Christian going?’
Jody gripped Tyler’s hand. Her boys were what mattered. They needed to grow up knowing they were all that mattered to her. They weren’t to feel like a second thought, the way she had growing up. She gave Tyler’s hand a squeeze. ‘No idea, T. Let’s follow him and find out, shall we?’
The three of them picked up their pace as they half walked half ran after Christian, who was storming down the main street, head down, shoulders hunched. He stalked past the butcher’s, passed Mel’s Café, didn’t look twice at the village hall, and continued up towards the school.
Her arms began to ache and she looked down to see the boys lagging behind her. Their chests heaving with exertion. ‘Christian!’ she called. ‘You’ve got to slow down. Our legs aren’t as long as yours!’
‘Nearly there,’ he yelled back.
To her relief he began to slow down. Then stopped. In front of the old pool, she realised.
‘Come on, boys, we might as well see what this madman is up to.’ They traipsed over to where Christian was standing, his eyes trained on the mural painted on the brick wall that separated the pool from the community.
‘Do you like it?’ asked Jody as she took in the picture she knew like the back of her hand. A fifty-by-ten-feet painting, filled with images of the Leap, from the town’s oldest resident, Mr Muir, hunched over his daily crossword, to a younger, laughing Mrs Harper washing a shopfront window, to her own boys frolicking in the pool – not that they’d had the opportunity as it had been out of commission well before they were born. The lives of the local residents were backed by the rolling Rabbits Leap hills, criss-crossed with hedgerows and stone walls, a clear blue sky hugging the hills. She considered it her greatest work. And hoped one day, once the boys were older, she’d be able to seriously work on her art. Take on commissions. Make enough money to realise the one dream she’d had before the boys were born, to travel through Europe seeing her favourite works of art in the flesh, not on some computer screen or in the pages of a coffee-table book.
‘It’s great. The artist really captured the boys. Their light. Their happiness. Their joy. You can almost feel the coolness of the water. I can see the wisdom coming from that gentleman. And Mrs Harper’s raucous joy. The artist is talented.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the mural.
‘The artist is me,’ said Jody. The words came out more shyly than she’d hoped for.
‘Wow, a sculptress and a painter. You really are very talented. Do you do it for a living?’
Jody shook her head. ‘No. It’s just something I do when I have some spare time. Looking after the boys and the day-to-day work on the farm keep me busy enough.’
‘You’re a farmer too? Like Serena?’ Christian’s lips quirked in disbelief.
Jody refrained from rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, I’m a farmer. Sort of. It was my grandparents’ farm and it was passed on to me when they passed away. Except I don’t know all that much about farming, so I’ve a farm worker, Jack. He does the hard work. I tend to do more of the managerial side of things. Not that I know much about managing anything, but it seems the story of my life is being plunged into a deep pool and being told I can sink or swim.’
Christian’s eyes darted between the two boys. ‘Well, it seems you’re very good at swimming.’
‘I could be better. It’d be nice for the farm to make enough money to not just pay Jack and the household bills, but for the boys and I to go on holidays. Do more than meander around this place. Still, I can’t complain. We’ve a roof over our heads and enough coming in that we’re fed and clothed.’
Christian’s eyes flicked down, then quickly up. Jody crossed her arms over her chest and wished she’d sprung for a better-quality tank top, preferably made of inch-thick opaque material.
Christian, as if sensing her discomfort, changed the subject. ‘So, now we’re out of that tiny, cramped space and at the source of inspiration to remind us why we’re going to make the festival a runaway success, let’s brainstorm. Let’s combine ideas. Work out what we can do with the space and time available, then get the rest of the committee to secure what we need.’
‘Well, I really liked the idea of replicating the Rabbit Revolt. I could design the costumes. There’s a local group that are keen on sewing, the Stitch ‘n’ Snitch club. They come together every week to sew. And gossip. Mostly gossip,’ Jody admitted. ‘We could get them to whip up the costumes. And, like you suggested, the local kids could play the rabbits.’
‘Mum!?’ Tyler wailed. ‘It’s school holidays. That sounds like we have to take part in a school play.’
‘And I hate taking part in plays,’ Jordan moaned. ‘They always make me be a statue of some sort.’
‘Because you can’t remember your lines,’ Tyler snickered.
‘Shut up, Tyler. At least I didn’t have to dance with a girl like you did in the last one.’
‘Yeah, that was gross.’ Tyler stuck his tongue out and faux-gagged. ‘I’m not dancing with girls at the festival. Okay?’
Christian regarded the boys seriously. ‘So, if we don’t have dancing, you’re in? And you think the rest of the local kids will get onboard?’
Unexpected warmth flooded Jody. It was good to see the boys interacting with a man on a man-to-man level. They didn’t get that a lot. Tony was always working, and her farm worker, Jack, was always out in the fields, so their role models were few and far between. A fist tightened around her heart as guilt niggled at her. Would her refusal to give a relationship a chance, to get close to another man, mean they were missing out on something special?
‘We’ll get them onboard. We’ll remind them it’s for the pool and how cool it would be to have bombing competitions once it’s opened.’ Jordan stuck his hand out. ‘So it’s a deal.’
The niggle deepened as Jody watched the boys and Christian solemnly shake hands all round. Christian showing them how to shake hands in an authoritative manner. Why hadn’t she thought to teach them to shake hands like that? They’d be out in the real world one day and if they had wet-fish handshakes no one would take them seriously. She pushed the guilt away. It wasn’t going to help matters, and besides, this wasn’t about them or her, this was about making amends to the community. In a super-secret, stealth manner.
‘Right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘So that’s sorted. What else can we do to ensure this is the festival to end all festivals? A Ferris wheel? A carousel?’
Christian looked up from tapping on his phone. ‘All good ideas. But we need to remember there’s only so much space.’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hmmm, we’re surrounded by hills, and farms, and it’s a fundraiser for a pool. I feel there’s something there…’ He gazed off into the distance. ‘I’ve got it! We could do a giant slip and slide and create one of those makeshift pools using hay bales. People would love it! People could pay for, say, a thirty-minute swim and they could pay per slide. Can’t you just imagine it? They’d come from all over to have a swim and a slide. Hell, we could try and make it a world-record thing. The world’s longest slip and slide.’
Jody found herself nodding enthusiastically. ‘That could be cool. Really cool. And maybe, if we do go for the record, the local news might pick it up and that could bring us some promotion.’
‘Local news? Oh no, let’s go regional. No, national. Why do a little when you can do a lot. More is more, Jody. More is more.’
Christian dropped down onto the grass, then grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him. Close. Their knees brushed and those volts of energy surged, up her thigh, straight to the area she’d purposefully ignored for the last decade. She inched her knee away, and then pulled her hand out of Christian’s, ignoring how empty it suddenly felt. And how perfect it had felt being held by a strong and capable hand, as opposed to two soft young ones.
‘Jody, this wonderful mural of yours needs to have the people of Rabbits Leap milling in front of it every summer as they wait for the pool to open. And I think the water theme combined with the anniversary of the eviction of the rabbits is going to take this little festival of yours to the next level.’
‘Well, then. Let’s do it! Let’s make it happen.’ Jody paused, uncertainty coiled in her belly. ‘Um, Christian? How are we going to make this happen?’
Christian threw his head back and laughed. Deep, chocolatey. Sexy too.
Stop perving. He’ll leave. They always do, one way or the other. You don’t need that kind of rejection.
‘And that, Jody, is why the town hired me. I can make it happen. You might need to point me in the direction of a farmer who does the old square hay bales as opposed to the round ones. But the rest? I can sort the rest. Just you watch. That’s what Rabbits Leap’s paying me for.’
The uncertainty evaporated, only to be replaced with the urge to tell Christian the truth about his coming to Rabbits Leap. ‘Christian. Can you keep a secret?’
Christian angled his head and gave her a curious glance. ‘I can be the soul of discretion.’
She leant in, motioned for him to do the same, and whispered, ‘The town isn’t paying for you to be here. I am.’
Christian’s jaw dropped, revealing perfectly even, nicely spaced, white teeth. Was there anything imperfect about this man? And why was she thinking about his teeth and general good-lookingness when she’d just told him the truth about his employment.
‘But why? Why you? Why not the town?’
Jody sighed. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth. She was too ashamed. But she could skirt around it. ‘The thing is, Christian, this town has been good to me. When my mother passed away they organised the funeral because my father was in no way capable of doing so. He was pretty much in denial and just set about running the pub as if nothing had happened. Over those months the women of Rabbits Leap were always bringing stews and pies, hand-me-down clothes, anything they thought Tony and I might need. In their own way, and alongside my grandparents, they helped raise us until I got to be older and became self-sufficient enough that I could care for Tony and myself.’ She pulled at the grass, threw the tufts aside, tugged at it some more. ‘When the boys came along they helped me as much as I’d let them. Showed me how to change a nappy, how to bathe them. When mastitis hit, they saw the signs early enough and ensured I was taken care of. And again there was the food and the hand-me-downs. Apparently nobody throws anything away in this town. Even now, the boys are wearing clothing that belonged to Mrs Harper’s sons.’ She brought her knees up to her chest in a hug and looked up into the hills, lush green with swathes of gold where the rape fields bloomed. ‘So when they asked me to take on the festival, I said yes. Without hesitation. I owe this town so much. I owe them the good life I’ve lived. It could’ve so easily gone the other way.’
‘So, when you realised wrangling with the two Mrs H’s wasn’t going to plan and things were going nowhere fast, you called me in.’ Christian nodded in understanding. ‘Well, I’m glad you did. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this project, very much.’ He flashed her another smile. The wide-mouthed open kind that made Jody glad she was sitting because her knees probably couldn’t have held her up had she been standing.
Another time, another place, another situation, and she could have quite liked Christian. More than liked him. But she had her vow to keep and two young boys to grow into two fine young men before she could bother with that side of things. And after that? She’d be safe. She wouldn’t need to use the boys as an excuse to keep relationships at bay, because there was no one in Rabbits Leap who’d ever caught her eye, and Christian would be going back to London, well out of temptation’s way.
Still, as the sun glinted off his artfully styled brown hair, his eyes sparkling with excitement, she couldn’t help but think ‘what if?’.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_ef05e5f6-01d3-5e68-b81c-02a897b93d22)
Christian took a sip of his flat white and slumped back in the café’s retro metal-framed, cherry-coloured wooden chair, the milky, earthy liquid soothing the confusion jangling his thought processes. For a second outside the old pool he’d felt a connection with Jody. And not because they’d reached some sort of truce, and decided to stop fighting each other. It had been different. The kind of connection you feel when your eyes meet your date’s over a few glasses of something alcoholic at a bar. Or when you’ve gone out with a woman a few times and it’s time to take things to the next level. And you both want to.
Except he didn’t want to. Even if some chemical part of him did. Jody was beautiful and clearly talented, but there was the matter of the boys, who were currently sitting to the left of him, their twin heads bowed towards a tablet screen as they tap-tap-tapped on some game. They weren’t part of his life plan. He didn’t think it would be fair to raise a child in an environment where work and winning came first. Sure, he’d survived. Just. He’d been forced to grow from a shy and awkward boy to a strong man who others paid attention to, listened to, and were happy to take orders from. Well, apart from the older festival committee members of Rabbits Leap. But he’d sort them out soon enough. Yes, his home environment had brought success, but deep in his gut he suspected there were other, better ways to raise a family. Ways he knew nothing of, and didn’t have the role models to learn from.
‘So, we’re all good then?’ Jody looked up from the serviette she’d scribbled notes on. ‘We’ve got the ideas for festival activities down, so now we just have to decide what people will find more enjoyable, and I’m sorry, Christian, but I just don’t think food trucks will fly when compared to one of our baking stalls. We’ve some master bakers here, and you’ve tried Mel’s scones. Who wouldn’t want one of those?’
Christian eyed the crumbs left on his plate. ‘They’re delicious, don’t get me wrong, but while you locals trust the baking here, home-baked goods might not appeal to outsiders. I mean, who knows what conditions they’re cooked in? What if a fly landed in a batch of biscuit mix?’
Jody groaned. ‘Oh, for Pete’s sake. Really? How likely do you think that is to happen?’
‘I bet you it has, somewhere. All I’m saying is a little variety could be good. There’s a fair happening a few towns over that’s advertising food trucks. Indian, Mexican, Greek. I mean, who doesn’t love a good souvlaki? Or a tasty taco?’
Jody’s answer came in the form of a squeak and rumble from the direction of her stomach. ‘Traitor. I knew I should’ve gone for a scone and a sausage roll.’ She grimaced as she rubbed it. ‘I suppose there’s nothing wrong in at least checking out the offerings. Maybe we could do both? Food trucks and baking?’
‘Perhaps.’ Christian diarised a trip to the fair on his mobile. ‘But it all comes down to space. We’ve only a smallish amount to work with and we need to maximise it as much as possible. It is The Big Little Festival, after all. It needs to go off with a bang.’
‘So, I guess that means we can’t do both the carousel and the Ferris wheel, or the vintage car show and the jumble and book sale.’ Jody spooned sugar into her coffee and gave it a swirl.
‘Perhaps we can. The jumble and book sale could be held in the hall. I’m having second thoughts on the vintage car show. Too big, and it won’t bring in money. You know, we could do some really old-fashioned style festival activities. It would be in keeping with the old-time feel of this place. Say a ring toss, or a kissing booth, even.’
Jordan’s head lifted. ‘Just don’t you be the one kissing, Mum. We’d make no money.’
Jody swatted Jordan’s head. ‘Oh, you shush, cheeky boy.’
‘I don’t know, Jordan. I can imagine there’d be a couple of people out there who’d pay to be kissed by your mum. I’d be first in line.’ Christian paused as Jody flushed bright red, then realised how what he’d said sounded. ‘You know, just to get the ball rolling…’
‘I’m not kissing anyone,’ she croaked. ‘The kissing booth isn’t happening. Besides, germs.’
‘Good point, Mum. Everyone knows girls have lots of germs.’ Jordan nodded his approval and returned to the screen.
Christian suppressed a laugh. Even choked up and embarrassed, Jody was hot. And even though he had no intention of pursuing anything with her, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had a partner. Earlier, when he’d grabbed her hand and their knees had touched, she’d acted like he’d bitten her. Or jolted her with a taser. Whatever had passed between them sure had some electricity behind it. And while he didn’t want to explore that connection, he wasn’t sure why Jody was so keen to shut it down? Was there someone in the picture, secreted away on the side? Did she not want the boys to see her with another man unless it was serious?
‘Christian? You in there? What else would you suggest we add to the programme?’
‘Pony rides, like we talked about. A rural petting zoo perhaps. All easily doable. But of course it’s not going to happen unless you get sign-off on using the main street. We were waiting on one person, weren’t we? The butcher? He had to give his okay along with all the other business owners to host the festival on the main street?’
Jody nodded. ‘Yeah, but he’s adamant it’ll hurt his business. Won’t budge.’
‘But we have something on him, don’t we? We could do what Shirley suggested and use that to get what we want, couldn’t we?’ Christian pressed.
‘Oh no.’ Jody shook her head, eyes wide in horror. ‘We couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be right.’
Christian admired her integrity, but they weren’t getting the festival off the ground without each and every business owner’s consent. ‘Sorry, Jody, I disagree. What’s not right is halting the progress and growth of this village because you’re afraid you might sell a few less lamb chops one day of the year. I’m going to chat to him, now.’ He scraped the chair back and stood up.
‘If you’re doing that, I’m coming with you. I won’t have you upsetting a member of this town unnecessarily. Boys, you stay here. Stay out of trouble. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
‘I’ll say what needs to be said, nothing more. Besides, there’s more than one way to get what you want. I just need to find out what’s important to him. What he wants. I’m sure I won’t have to resort to revealing his secret to the whole village.’ Christian marched through the door and into the street, quiet apart from a dog tied up outside the café, staring longingly at a cat lazing in the sun across the road.
There was a tug on his shirt.
‘You are not going to tell him you know he wears lacy underwear,’ Jody whispered. ‘It’s not your business. It’s nobody’s business. And what if he digs his heels in deeper? Christian, if he knows Mrs Harper has been spreading rumours about him, you could start some sort of town war.’ Jody spun him round to face her. ‘This isn’t London. If you have a falling out with someone, you’re going to have to see them again. A lot. You can’t do this.’
‘I’ll do what needs to be done.’ Christian shrugged her off, strode across the road and paused in front of the butchery – ‘Stripped and Fed’. What the hell kind of name was that for a butchery? Graphic much? And now he was going to have to meet the proprietor, knowing that when he stripped he was in lacy knicks. Bloody hell. If he didn’t need this job so much he would have been out of here in five seconds flat.
He pushed open the door and was greeted by refreshing chilled air, and the earthy, metallic scent butcheries exuded. He breathed it in. There was more to that scent, though. There was a hint of spiciness too. Before him, display fridges were filled with choice cuts, gleaming pink and red. He glanced up and saw fat-speckled salami hanging. Different widths, different lengths, and from the looks of it, different varieties. At the end of the room another fridge displayed prosciutto, pre-cut salami, pancetta and coppa, as well as cheeses, olives and sun-dried tomatoes. He strolled over for a closer look. Not just any cheese, a range of goat’s cheese – chèvre, brie, blue. Sitting alongside those were camembert, gouda, cheddar, with a sign stating all products were produced locally. This wasn’t a butchery, it was foodie heaven. An idea occurred to him…
Jody burst through the door, her eyes wild with panic. ‘Where’s Mr Thompson?’ She craned her neck over the meat-filled fridges. ‘Don’t tell me he’s stormed off in a rage.’ She gnawed at her lower lip. ‘What have you done, Christian?’
‘I’ve done nothing. But I have a way to get what we want.’
