Page 11 of Love like the (Real) Reel Thing
“Just tap dancing.” Emily beamed. “I’m just good at looking busy even when I’m not. But like, maybe don’t mention that to –”
“To Anthony?” Jess tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
“We’ve made the place as cosy as possible for you, but I always said it needed a woman’s touch.” Sylvia Doyle finished the two-minute tour of Ivy cottage and waited expectantly for Jess to speak.
Jess examined what appeared to be cigarette burns dotted all over the sitting-room carpet, and suppressed a sigh, before smiling brightly at Holly’s mother.
“It’s perfect. Thank you for having it cleaned.”
“Oh, well, Holly is part of the Charleston Group family now, isn’t she?” Sylvia gave a satisfied smile. “Anyway, that nice manager up at Linford Castle arranged it all. I’ve never seen anything happen so quickly around here, so I haven’t. Now, do you need me to show you how to use the stove, with you not being used to gas, like?”
“No, you’re fine, honestly,” said Jess. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Grand, so. Well, the only thing I need to show you now is the heating system.”
“I probably won’t need it coming into summer, will I?” Jess looked around. “Unless the house gets really cold?”
“Ah, it’s not that.” Sylvia clicked her tongue. “It’s linked to the water, and it’s a bit unreliable.”
“Is there a problem with the water?” Jess asked nervously.
Sylvia laughed. “There’s plenty of water – you’re not that far from civilisation.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean –”
“The hot water, love. My brother tried to get it fixed, but sure it still only works about half the time.”
Jess opened all the windows after Sylvia left, to get rid of the strong smell of bleach and carpet cleaner. The small, old-fashioned kitchen looked straight out onto the street, and the sitting room overlooked a tiny, overgrown yard on the other side. Upstairs was a freshly made, lumpy bed and a worn-looking bathroom with a pale-blue suite.
Briefly, an image of the Lady Helen Suite flashed to mind. It didn’t matter, Jess reminded herself. For the next six weeks, thiswas all hers. More importantly, she was on the opposite side of the country from Adam.
She wondered what he was doing back in Dublin. Maybe Frank had asked him to come back. Or maybe he ... God, she had to stop thinking that anything Adam did hadanythingto do with her. She’d got what she wanted, hadn’t she? She’d told Adam that they’d made a mistake, and he’d accepted her decision. Anyway, what were the chances that he was sparinghera second thought? He’d made no attempt to fight for her. In fact, he’d made it clear that there was nothing worth fighting for.
Unexpectedly, she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. Shit, she couldn’t afford to start feeling sorry for herself all over again. She needed to distract herself. She phoned Kate.
“If you’re lounging on a silk couch, eating hand-made chocolates and drinking champagne, I don’t want to know,” Kate said when she answered.
Jess giggled. “I got bored with all that, so now I’ve moved into the world’s smallest cottage.”
“The place in the village?” Kate sounded interested. “Is it smaller than Dad’s house?”
Jess tried to picture the one-bed flat Kate’s parents had built for her in their garden, after Kate had a one-night stand with an Erasmus student in college and got pregnant with her son Luke. With Luke’s dad not around, Kate’s dad had insisted on moving into the one-bed after Kate’s mother died, to give Kate and Luke the larger family home.
“Probably about the same size,” Jess said, “but darker and old-fashioned. Think 1950s.” She squinted suspiciously at the carpet. “They’ve cleaned the place but I think the carpets are still damp. There’s a funny smell.”
Kate sighed. “You’re not regretting this, are you? Because you could easily come back if you wanted. I’m sure you could troubleshoot from Dublin.”
“I couldn’t, and I’m not regretting anything.” Jess was firm. “Anyway, I’ve been talking with Anthony and I think he’s happy I’m going to be around.”
“Of course he’s happy – you’ll be amazing at whatever you have to do.”
“Thanks.” Jess paused. “Why do I think there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
“I was just wondering …” Kate hesitated. “You don’t think that maybe you …”
“Maybe what?”
“You might be running away from something?” Kate said, gently.
