I nod happily, already carried away by the idea that Jake can clearly work wonders, and really wanting him to work his clever magic on The Treehouse Café!
Theo and Jake wander over towards the house, chatting and catching up on the years in between their last meeting, while Paloma and I wander in and out of the playhouse exhibits.
‘Is it just me, or is that guy totally up his own arse?’ says Paloma.
I laugh. ‘Jake? He seems all right to me. A bit of a sense of humour bypass, maybe, but he’s incredibly talented at what he does.’
She shrugs. ‘Jake Fellows is the sort who always has to be right. You’ll need to be careful he doesn’t ride roughshod over your ideas for the café because, of course, he’s the artist, don’t you know!’ Her sarcasm is accompanied by a sneer in his direction.
I grin at her. ‘Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit? I haven’t even decided if the project is a goer yet.’
She twists her lips.
‘Presumably Jake wants the commission? In which case he’d surely listen and be respectful of the client’s ideas?’
She shrugs.
Jokingly, I say, ‘Hey, artists are allowed to be grumpy and temperamental – didn’t you know?’
She snorts. ‘He’s a knob-head artist. Just like Rufus Knob-Head Black,’ she says, referring to her despicable former lover, who kept going back to his ex-wife for bondage sessions. ‘And he’s got nothing to be superior about. Have you seen his website? A five-year-old could have designed a better one.’
I laugh. ‘Just because he’s bad at computer stuff doesn’t mean he’s a bad person!’
We leave soon after, and Paloma ushers me into the front seat this time with a knowing smile. I throw a quick glance at Theo but he’s starting the engine and waving at Jake. To be honest, I’d rather be in the back where I could spend the journey thinking about what we’ve just seen.
But front seat it is. And it gets even more awkward when Paloma realises she’s left her phone in the giant shoe and hurries off to collect it.
Theo switches off the engine and in the silence that follows, we both stare ahead, Theo tapping the steering wheel.
At last, he clears his throat. ‘Twilight, I want to apologise for leaving the way I did that night. The night of the thunderstorm. It’s been on my mind ever since.’
I glance at him, cringing at the memory. ‘It’s no problem. Honestly.’ I’d rather just forget it ever happened.
He heaves a sigh. ‘Look, I have my reasons. And it’s not you, I assure you. I meant it when I told you I’m bad news.’
There’s another brief silence and I wait for him to elaborate. Why would he be ‘bad news’? Maybe he’s just come out of a relationship and doesn’t want to get involved with anyone else so soon? Is it to do with him being a ‘lone wolf’, as the mums in the café described him?
We glance across at each other at the precise same moment.
He smiles sheepishly. ‘It’s definitely not you. You’re gorgeous.’
A little jolt of shock runs through me. I wasn’t expecting that. I wish I could read his mind. We lock eyes and his smile slowly vanishes, just like on the night of the thunderstorm when neither of us could break away.
But this time, he does.
‘Friends?’ he says, snapping me out of my reverie, and it’s like he’s thrown a bucket of cold water over me.
His smile seems strained.
‘Friends,’ I repeat.
Thankfully, Paloma comes back at that moment, which saves me from having to think of something else to say – and having to examine the awful hollow feeling inside …
*****
The following morning, early, I receive a phone call from Jake asking if he can come round to look at the site for the treehouse café. We decide on six o’clock, after I’ve closed up for the day.
The meeting starts off well. He’s really taken with the treehouse – how sturdy it still is after all these years and such a clever design. My eyes fill with tears several times when he refers to dad and how impressed he is at his handiwork.
‘I’ll make sure to keep the character of the original,’ he says, which reassures me hugely. I’d had visions of him wanting to knock it down and start all over again from scratch, which I just couldn’t bear. ‘I’ll incorporate it into my design.’
I nod happily and he shrugs. ‘It makes sense. And the structure is so solid, it will make my work a lot easier.’ He winks. ‘Therefore cheaper.’
I laugh. ‘Even better!’
He smiles. ‘I’m going to enjoy this commission. If you give me the go-ahead. This café of yours could be absolutely stunning.’
It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile and it transforms his whole face and demeanour. Maybe it’s the passion for his craft that’s shining through.
‘Sorry I was a bit gruff the other day,’ he says, as if he’s just read my thoughts. ‘I’d just finished a commission that took weeks, and right before you arrived, the client phoned to say she’d changed her mind and didn’t want it after all.’
‘Oh God, that’s terrible. Will you lose money on it?’
He shrugs. ‘She’d paid a hefty deposit, which she’ll obviously lose, and I’ll be able to sell the playhouse to someone else. But that’s not the point. I made it to her specifications, so it just seems like a complete waste of my time and effort.’
I nod. ‘I can see that. Well, rest assured if I give you the commission, I won’t be backing out!’
‘Good.’ We exchange a smile.
‘So how long do you think it would take you to complete the work here?’
He
