Forty Things To Do Before You're Forty

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As they disappeared through the doorway, Annie released a long sigh of relief. Thank goodness he’d gone. She was far too busy for a distraction like Jake Sinclair today. She only hoped Lydia was kind to him. Even a man like Jake would be risking it walking into Lydia’s lair. Not that Annie cared. It made no difference to her what Jake got up to with Lydia. None at all. She was just thankful that he hadn’t noticed the squashed cake on the top of her foot. Now that really would have been embarrassing.

CHAPTER FOUR (#uad870761-14f4-58cd-9525-a7f86e9028d0)

Three hours later, Jake arrived back at the manor completely exhausted. He could hardly believe what he’d just experienced. In fact, the idea even crossed his mind that he’d been set up. That there might be hidden cameras dotted about the village monitoring his every move because this couldn’t be normal village life. Could it? He’d always imagined Yorkshire villages to be quiet, sleepy places, populated by farmers and old ladies with lilac hair and tweed skirts, not the likes of Lydia Pembleton in shocking-pink hot-pants and silver stilettoes.

Talk about bad timing. If only he’d walked straight past Annie’s shop, he could have saved himself a great deal of trouble – and a whole chunk of time. But he hadn’t wanted to walk past Annie’s shop. And it hadn’t just been the delightful window display that had tempted him. It had been Annie herself. There was something incredibly refreshing about her. She seemed so natural, so unaffected. And, from the snippet of information Sophie had let slip about her baking for the class every week, was obviously incredibly generous. All the things, in fact, that Nina had been. Despite it being an emotion in which he did not normally indulge, Jake felt a stab of jealousy. Whoever ‘George’ was – whose cake he had spied in Annie’s kitchen – he was one lucky man. Lydia, conversely, was the very antithesis of all that Jake valued. Conceited, self-absorbed, and selfish. Ignoring his protestations, she had dragged him – quite literally – around the entire village, introducing him to every unsuspecting person they encountered.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost half-past-twelve. The entire morning had disappeared in a Lydia-induced blur. He’d only intended being out for half an hour to stock up on provisions. Now he was way behind schedule. What was more, he could feel the niggling of a headache. Jake rarely got headaches. It must be as a result of Lydia’s cloying perfume. The heavy scent had permeated his hair, his clothes and his skin. He decided to take another shower and change his clothes before making a sandwich and settling down to write.

Ten minutes later, Jake scratched his head. He was baffled. The water had been piping hot a few hours earlier. Too hot if anything. But now it was ice-cold. Perhaps the settings on the boiler needed adjusting. But where was the boiler? He’d searched all the obvious places but couldn’t find it. Well, there was only one thing for it. He’d have to go over to the gatehouse and ask. And if Annie was still at work, perhaps ‘George’ would be able to help. Tugging his T-shirt back on, Jake sprinted down the stairs and over to the cottage.

The kitchen door was wide open when he arrived. He popped his head inside. Sophie sat at the table, her little face creased with concentration as she fiddled with some pink wool. Beside her was a kindly-looking lady with lily-white hair, wearing a floral skirt and sensible blouse which, despite the heat of the day, was buttoned right up to her neck. Pip lay in his basket snoring soundly. Jake allowed himself another quick glance around the room. Yet again it looked incredibly inviting, the brilliant sunlight bouncing off the yellow walls. And yet again something tightened in the area of his heart. He quickly pulled himself together and knocked lightly upon the open door.