He nodded.
‘I promise I won’t make you weed the flower beds, if you’re really too grand for that.’
It was his cue to laugh again, but he couldn’t bring himself to. ‘I’ve been itching to sort that garden out properly for years. Just indulge me, okay?’
She nodded. And, although she was as collected and self-contained as always, he could see a hint of something in her eyes. As if she wanted to reach out but was too afraid.
‘I promise I’ll charge the earth and drink all your tea.’
That earned him a real smile. Small, but real.
‘It’s a deal, Mr Landscape Architect.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Speaking of which, didn’t you say you were off to a meeting?’
Lord Batterham!
He hurried back to the counter to pay Mrs Green for his paper. She was standing there, holding a magazine in her hand-the same one Louise had flourished in front of his nose. She stared at it and then at Louise, and then back at the magazine cover, as if she were playing some kind of mental tennis match.
For the first time in thirty-three years she wasn’t making a sound. He plopped the change in front of her on the counter, grabbed Louise by the hand and dashed out of the shop.
‘Mum? Can we go outside? It’s stopped raining.’
Louise stopped herself from putting the kettle on the Aga for a fifth time. She didn’t really want another cup of tea. It was just that, at some point this afternoon, somebody might.
‘Can we? Please?’ Jack’s voice was so high-pitched on that last word she was sure dogs would be bounding towards them from all over the district.
‘Can we
Her son ran to the back door and opened it, letting in a gust of damp November air. Louise walked over to where he stood and stuck her head out of the door. Moisture dripped from the leaves of an evergreen bush in the little courtyard directly outside the kitchen, but the clouds were now a pale, pearly grey and she even thought she saw a hint of blue before it was hurried away by the wind.
Fresh air would do her good. Fresh air would stop her waiting. Or wondering why he was late. Well, not late, because they’d never really set a time for him to come and go, but later than normal.
She shook her head and reached for the scarf and hat on a peg nearby. Ben Oliver had turned all her assumptions about him on their heads once this week already. Why shouldn’t he do it again?
The grass on the sloping lawn in front of the house was still damp, but it didn’t stop Jack deciding a game of football was the ideal way to burn off a bit of energy. They used a couple of the big stones lining the driveway to mark out the goals.
She’d never been good at games at school, always too tired from acting as surrogate mother to her four younger brothers and sisters and part-time carer to her invalid father. Jack was running rings around her but then he misjudged a kick and the ball went flying past her towards the edge of the woods. She ran after it and stopped it with the side of her boot. If all went according to plan, she would have at least one goal to Jack’s seven by the time they gave up and headed back inside for hot chocolate.
She swung her leg in an almighty kick. A jarring pain hit her as her lower back met something flat and solid and, all of a sudden, she was staring at the sky. She could hear Jack laughing his head off some distance away.
‘Just you wait!’ she yelled, giggling slightly herself, but the mirth stopped when she attempted to move. ‘Ouch!’
‘Here.’ The voice was as rich as dark chocolate and she recognised it instantly. She also recognised the broad, long-fingered hand that came into her field of vision-although exactly when she’d noticed the shape of Ben Oliver’s hands, she wasn’t sure.
Even through the wool of her gloves, his skin was warm and he gripped her hand in such a way that she knew she could give him all her weight and he wouldn’t let her fall. She winced as he gently helped her to her feet. ‘Ow.’
‘Where does it hurt?’
She didn’t want to draw even more attention to her slightly-larger-than-planned and somewhat muddy backside. ‘Where d’you think?’
‘Do you want me to take a look?’
‘No!’ She twisted out of his grip and brushed herself down, more for something to do than for cosmetic effect. ‘Don’t tell me you’re an almost-doctor as well as an almost-gardener.’
He laughed and she looked up at him, her irritation dissolving. It was only then that she noticed the girl standing slightly behind him. She had shoulder-length, honey-coloured hair, nothing at all like Ben’s dark mop, but her eyes were all her father’s.
Ben grabbed his daughter’s hand and pulled her forward a little. She blushed and looked at the ground. ‘Louise, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Jasmine.’
‘Nice to meet you, Jasmine. I’m Louise. Your dad’s been helping me out with my garden.’
‘I know.’ The reply was barely a whisper, and Jasmine flushed an even deeper shade of red.
Her father may not have known who ‘Louise Thornton’ was the first time he’d met her, but Jasmine certainly did. This kind of reaction wasn’t unusual. Heck, she’d been just the same when she’d started going out with Toby and he’d introduced her to the latest Oscar-winning Hollywood actress.
‘Come and meet my son, Jack. He’s football mad, I’m afraid, though.’
Jasmine shrugged and followed her across the lawn as Ben strolled along, bringing up the rear. Jack took one look at Jasmine and Louise knew he’d decided she was okay. As the child of a celebrity couple, he had an uncanny kind of radar for discerning between hangers-on and real friends. He made instinctive decisions in a second and he was rarely wrong. Now, how did she go about getting herself some of that?
Jack picked up his football and started walking in the direction of the back door. ‘There’s chocolate cake inside. Want some?’
Jasmine nodded furiously and broke into a trot to keep up with him as he raced off towards the kitchen.
Ben fell into step beside Louise as they followed their offspring. ‘Sorry I had to bring Jas with me. I hope it’s okay.’
‘Of course it’s okay. Who do you think I am? The wicked witch of the West?’
He was smirking when she looked up at him. ‘You can be a tad fierce at times.’
Was she? Really? She fell into silence for a few seconds while she pondered his remark. What had happened to the shy, sweet Louise she’d once been? Where was the awkward girl with the too-long limbs and a school blazer that had been far too short?
Eventually, she said quietly, ‘If you’d been really afraid, you wouldn’t have come.’
Ben laughed again. She liked that sound. She wondered if she could make him do it some more. So far, it had only happened accidentally, when she hadn’t actually been trying to be funny at all.
‘True. I hadn’t intended on bringing Jas at all. It’s just that…’ he ran his hand through his hair ‘…it’s complicated.’
‘Trust me. I know
Ben stared off into the distance for a few seconds and she stopped walking, aware that it would be better if this conversation wasn’t overheard from the kitchen. Ben halted beside her.
‘My ex-wife, Megan…’ He made a microscopic movement with his head, as if he wanted to shake it but was stopping himself. ‘She’s a good mother, really. It’s just that lately her priorities have been a little skew-whiff.’
Louise nodded.
‘She seems to think that, now Jas is almost in secondary school, she can fend for herself a bit more. And, probably, she could. It’s just with the divorce still in the recent past, I think Jas feels a little neglected. Megan had last-minute plans and cancelled their Sunday afternoon together. I don’t think she even realises how shut out Jas feels sometimes.’
‘How long?’
‘Since the divorce? Two years.’
‘Two months for me. Although I kicked him out about a year ago.’ Louise breathed in. ‘Girls need a mother at
