Page 48 of The Perfect Son
We’re almost at the gate to the playing field when we find the puddle covering the entire width of the lane. It’s too long to jump over so we wade through in our wellies. We’re halfway in when I think of you beside me. If you were here right now, you’d scoop me up and pretend to drop me in the water and I would scream and Jamie would roar with laughter.
A sob catches in my throat but I swallow it back and jump—a little splash—but Jamie’s giggles fill my head and I laugh too. I jump again, harder this time, causing water to spill into the tops of my wellies and soak my jeans, but I don’t care because I made Jamie smile. I made him laugh.
We’re giggling and jumping so much that I don’t hear the car on the lane until the horn toots and I flinch, pushing Jamie to the side of the road and waving an apology as we step to the gate. The playground is just across the field. The bright red and yellow climbing frame looks out of place amidst the green of the trees and the bleak sky.
The Land Rover moves closer and stops. I recognize the black paintwork and tinted windows—it’s Ian.
He buzzes down the driver’s window and smiles at us. “Hey, I thought that was you.”
“Hi,” Jamie and I chorus.
“Puddle jumping, eh? Glad to see you feeling better.”
The frown creasing his forehead says otherwise, but I don’t bother to comment. Jamie tugs at my coat and looks at the playground with hopeful eyes. I nod and he’s off through the gate, racing across the field to the zipline and the swings.
“I was just coming to see you,” Ian says. “I’ve got a tool kit in theboot. I’ve got some WD-40 too. I thought I’d oil the hinges on the side door to stop it creaking for you and see if there are any other jobs I can do.”
“Oh... erm, thanks, but that’s OK. We’re fine.”
Ian doesn’t look like he’s come to do jobs. He’s freshly shaved and is wearing a dark Ralph Lauren polo shirt.
“Do you want to jump in and I’ll give you a lift back?”
I shake my head and motion toward the playground where Jamie is swinging from the monkey bars. “I think I might be here awhile.”
Ian pulls a face as if I’ve just given the wrong answer in a quiz. But now that I’m out of the house I have no desire to go back. Maybe I’ll take Jamie to the pub for hot chocolate after he’s finished playing.
“Look, about the form I dropped off—”
“I haven’t signed it yet.”
“But you’re going to?” he asks.
“I think so.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re going to let me help you, Tess. I’m not trying to pressure you into signing it. I just wanted to give you the option, that’s all.”
I give a laugh. “You’re not trying to pressure me, but you dropped off the form at the weekend when you could’ve posted it, and your solicitor’s has left a load of messages telling me to call them. It kind of feels like pressure.”
He shakes his head. His eyes soften a little and I think again how much like yours they are. “I wanted to drop the chili off to you. That’s why I came to see you last Saturday. The weekends are the only time I have to cook. Didn’t your friend tell you that? I’d hoped to talk to you about the form and let you know that I’m happy to help if you need it. I’m sorry if you thought I was being pushy. I’m more thanhappy for you to continue as the executor for Mark’s will, Tess. I was only trying to help.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“How long have you known Shelley?” he asks.
A drop of rain hits my eyelashes and I blink it away. The change of conversation throws me. “Er... not long, I guess. Why?”
“She seemed quite protective of you the other day. She wouldn’t even let me through the door.”
Good,I think.
“Not everyone has your best interests at heart, Tess,” Ian says then.
Maybe because of the sheer bloody ridiculousness of his warning, or because I’m still giddy from my puddle jumping, I laugh. “Don’t you think I know that?” I say.
“Look, how about you get in the car and I’ll drive you back? It’s pouring down out here. We can talk properly over coffee.”
He’s right. The rain is no longer a drizzle but fat droplets bouncing in the puddle. Water is streaming from my hair down my face, and my coat is so wet that it’s no longer waterproof.
