Page 16 of A Wish For Jo
To her credit, Jo didn't attempt to squeeze information out of Harvey as if he were a tube of toothpaste. They chatted about inconsequential things like the weather, the Scottish parliament and First Minister Nicola Sturgeon: 'a right wee nippy sweetie' in Jo's opinion. She spoke briefly of her parents' passing, Harvey admitting that his own parents were still alive but had little contact with him.
'I always envied people with close bonds to their folks,' he said, loading his fork with pie filling and cauliflower cheese. 'They're in their mid-eighties now, but fit as the proverbial fiddle. They're living it up in a retirement village on the outskirts of Glasgow: all CCTV cameras, shuttle buses and on-site medical care. They never really wanted a child, to be honest. They'd have been better off with a dog: more obedient and less demanding. Still, that's the way the cookie crumbles.'
'Speaking of sweet things, shall I warm up the pudding? It'll take about twenty minutes and I brought some cream to go with.'
Harvey gave a thumbs up and added more pie and chips to their plates as Jo went to deal with dessert. Swirling the remains of the red around his glass, he felt something he hadn't felt for a long time. Dabbing at his lips, he realised what it was. Contentment.
CHAPTER18
Despite her misgivings,Jo had to admit the evening was going well. They'd devoured the sticky toffee pudding and opened a second bottle of red. Not normally a big drinker, she welcomed a top-up. It helped take the edge off any lingering anxiety about dining with a man she barely knew and hadn't particularly warmed to in the beginning.
The alcohol seemed to have a similar effect on Harvey, whose relaxed and attentive manner was in sharp contrast to the gruff, antisocial creature she'd first encountered. 'It must be challenging, running a business single-handed,' he said, refreshing his own glass. 'But you have an assistant, right?'
Jo nodded, and dabbed at a dribble of wine on the tablecloth. Her thoughts of Aaliyah and genie madness had faded as the evening progressed. For an insane moment, she contemplated taking to Harvey about it, then dismissed the idea immediately. Being carted away by men in white coats would not be the ideal end to the evening. 'Yes, the daughter of a good friend. She's just helping out temporarily.'Until she grants me two more wishes and buggers off back where she came from.'The lovely Angela worked with me for a while, but now she's running The Jekyll and Hyde with her partner, Ed.'
‘I've never set foot in the place,' said Harvey. 'Not really one for crowds, to be honest. This is nicer. I've always preferred one-on-one chats, like I used to have—'
His mouth clamped shut faster than a freshly tapped mussel. Jo didn't press him further. The fleeting look of sorrow on his face had told her all she needed to know. 'It's a lovely pub,’ she said, ‘but hordes of beer-swilling locals with loose tongues and long noses might not be your thing.' She winked at Harvey, who gave a wry smile.
'You're not wrong there,' he said. 'I've already encountered Janette in the corner shop on a few occasions. I suspect she likes to keep tabs on what folks are up to round here.'
'She's a good soul,' replied Jo. 'Salt of the earth, as they say. Every small village has its eccentrics, and Janette definitely fits the bill.'
'Indeed she does,’ said Harvey. ‘Last time I was in looking for a few bits, she told me off for floating around like a fart in a spacesuit!'
Jo spluttered on a mouthful of wine, and Harvey hurriedly refilled her tumbler of water. Her equilibrium restored, she regaled Harvey with colourful tales of life in Cranley. They laughed together, two people enjoying each other's company with no pressure or expectations.
Feeling it was his turn, Harvey divulged a little about his pre-Cranley life. 'I dabbled in this and that,' he said. 'I studied philosophy at university, but soon realised the job opportunities were limited unless I became a lecturer.'
'Or sat around with your chin on your hand, looking deeply pensive,' teased Jo. 'Like the Rodin statue.'
'Very droll.' Harvey adopted a Rodinesque pose. Then his elbow slipped off the table and he came perilously close to nose-diving into his empty pudding plate. 'That's enough vino collapso for me!'
'So, what did you end up doing?' Harvey's features tightened a fraction and Jo hoped she hadn't overstepped the mark. Perhaps he'd got into financial trouble or gone off the rails somehow. Drinking, maybe, or something worse…
'I, erm, I took a short course in film and TV production and picked up a few gigs over the years. Behind the camera, mainly low-budget, but I enjoyed it. Nothing you'd have heard of,' he added, a slight flush warming his cheeks.
'I could always Google you,' retorted Jo. Not that she planned to. The energy now radiating from Harvey was less cosy, more 'barricades up, approach at your own risk'.
Perhaps sensing Jo's discomfort, Harvey disappeared to the loo. She fidgeted in her chair. Would now be a good time to yawn excessively, make her excuses and leave? As if on cue, she yawned — an absolute gaping belter.
Harvey reappeared and looked at her with a mixture of comprehension and sadness. 'Sorry if I've rambled on,' he said. 'You look like you need your bed, Jo.'
She did. For a fleeting second, Jo imagined Harvey's lips pressed against hers, and her destination his bed, not hers. But like her never-could-be relationship with Ken, such thoughts needed bottling up. Genies might emerge from lamps, but Jo had no intention of letting her libido loose. Certainly not with a man she barely knew, who played his cards very close to his chest.
'I am pretty tired,' she said. 'I've an early start at the café, and a ton of prep to do for a kid's birthday party I’m catering for. I'll be drowning in coloured sprinkles and butter icing!'
'Won't your friend's daughter give you a hand?' asked Harvey. 'That's a lot to deal with on your own.'
Jo harrumphed, easing herself to her feet. 'Sure, but Aaliyah's idea of hard graft is a bit different to other folks’. She needs a lie-down after beating egg whites.'
Harvey barked out a laugh. Jo definitely liked the sound of his laugh. She liked a lot of things about him. But as with Ken, she couldn't allow herself to blunder down a dangerous road.
'I could help,’ Harvey blurted out, looking as surprised as Jo felt. 'I've done a bit of baking in my time. Nothing fancy, mind you, but I can follow a recipe and I promise I won't collapse in a heap after a bit of mixing. Lindsey always said—'
Again, the shutters came down. Harvey began stacking plates and Jo went to retrieve her coat from the hallway. She'd decline his offer politely, and muddle through as she always did.
'Jo, I'd like to help.' Harvey took her coat from its peg and held it as she wriggled it on. 'There are things I can't talk about. Not because I don't trust you: it's just too painful. But I can lend a hand, if you'll let me. What do you say?'
