Page 30 of You Only Live Once
‘Like it was the right decision.’
‘That’s good,’ I said and meant it. I got the feeling there was still more about Jack to discover, but I knew I wanted him to be happy.
‘I saw earlier that there’s a documentary about Jane Austen on tonight. Were you planning on watching it?’
‘I was, but if you want to watch something else, that’s fine. I can go up and watch it on my tablet in bed.’
Jack laughed. ‘It’s your house, Lily. If there’s a viewing conflict, it should be me who goes up to my room, not you.’
‘I don’t mind. I quite like being tucked up in bed, all cosy.’
Jack didn’t answer for a moment, instead standing and taking the last few items off the dinner table and transferring them across to the dishwasher. Having stacked the dishwasher and closed the door, he turned back to me. ‘How do you feel about having company to watch the documentary?’ he asked.
I looked up, surprised, but Jack seemed to misunderstand my expression and, suddenly panicked, he blurted out, ‘Down here, obviously. Not in bed!’
I stared at him for a moment, trying not to smile. ‘Are you blushing?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, turning away.
‘Goodness me. What would all the young maidens of the village think now? I didn’t think you even had the capability to blush!’
He turned back to face me. ‘Having fun, are we?’ There was a hint of smile on his face which he was doing his best to suppress.
‘I am actually, yes. Thank you for asking.’
He gave me a tight smile, but I could see humour in the green eyes.
‘I didn’t think Jane Austen was something you’d be interested in.’
‘Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. There’s more to me than meets the eye.’
To be fair, that which met the eye was more than enough attraction for most people. Adding depth of character and a sense of humour to his attributes was making things a little unfair.
‘I distinctly remember you dissing the inimitable Jane in my teenage years. Something for which I may never be able to forgive you.’
‘Never is a long time.’
‘You clearly have no idea how deep my love for Jane Austen runs.’
‘I’m beginning to get an idea, but I did read some of her books when I was abroad.’
‘You did?’ I said, pushing myself up straighter in the chair. ‘And what did you think?’
‘Much to my chagrin, you are right. I love them. She’s a brilliant writer. I take back everything I said in previous years. I think I only ever said them to try and get a rise out of you anyway. I knew how much you adored her.’
‘That was kind of a mean thing to do.’
‘Agreed. But it was the only way I could get you to talk to me. Most of the time, you just ignored me when I’d come round.’
I felt my colour rise. ‘I’m sorry. I never meant you to feel ignored. I just… I don’t know. You were this titled heart-throb of the village, and I was just me. I never really knew what to say and, truthfully, I didn’t think you’d notice if I was there or not.’
‘I noticed.’
‘OK. But not the way I wanted you to notice, I suppose. Only at the time, obviously!’ I added, hastily.
‘Of course,’ he nodded.
‘Anyway, I think that was all part of being caught up in the fervour of teenage hormones. I never had a desire to be just another notch on your bedpost.’
