Emma
By the end of the week an exhausted Emma gave Big Kev a wave and a smile as she exited the corner shop. The bell above the door made that tinkling sound that made her think of sleigh-bells and reminded her The Holidays were coming. Her smile grew wider.
She hoped she’d done the right thing asking Big Kev how he was going to be spending Christmas. She was fairly sure mentioning Sheila in the same conversation had been the right thing to do as well because if they were both going to be in the same vicinity, then she couldn’t see why they shouldn’t spend some, or all, of the day together.
No one should have to spend the day alone if they didn’t want to.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to have a little down-time this evening. She’d been working flat out, getting to grips with the new equipment, and setting up contracts with suppliers. She and Kate had worked out a set of opening hours that complied with their licence and complimented when the spa, salon and co-working spaces were open.
All that was left to do was agree on which style of Christmas decorations to put up and they’d be ready for the grand opening.
Of course first she had to get through hosting her first ever Whispers Wood village meeting, but she was kind of looking forward to the experience.
Tonight though, she had crumpets, a tin of luxury hot chocolate and a pint of milk, packed away in her bag and she was going home to Wren Cottage to curl up and read.
After she’d gone to war with the heating and won, that was.
It was either finally work out what she was doing wrong, or work out a way of enticing Catty McCatface onto her lap to keep her warm.
Of the two she thought she knew which she was in with a shot of achieving.
With a glance up at the clock on The Clock House, she saw that it wasn’t quite six-thirty in the evening and already the sky was inkjet black behind the fast-moving wisps of cloud. Soon that cloud would unveil a few sparkly stars and getting to look up at them would more than make up for the cold.
She’d developed a routine of standing in the garden of Wren Cottage each night, wrapped in coat and gloves and hat as she lifted her face to the sky to gaze up at those stars.
Not wishing on them exactly…
More, choosing to think about all the ways they were better than a Hollywood star with her name underneath.
Was she awful for continuing to self-check her decision to take a break from acting? And is that what she was doing, then, or was this all a big lead-up to her finally getting comfortable with being able to use the word ‘former’ in front of the word ‘actress’ when asked what she did for a living?
She hadn’t been able to make a living from acting, so could she even call herself an actress, or was it enough to know that because she’d lived, breathed, and slept that life, she was. And if she genuinely thought she was, why wasn’t she out in the world, acting?
She sighed.
She couldn’t be happier in Whispers Wood but was that because she wasn’t getting turned down, passed over, and rejected at every turn?
As the end of her scarf fell across her shoulder she shoved it back, and at the sound of footsteps close behind her, instinctively picked up her pace, moving so that she was under the glow emitted by the lampposts.
The lamplights had been fitted with white LED bulbs. That titbit had come straight from Crispin Harlow himself and how she could have coped one moment longer without that information she didn’t know! Feeling safer, she walked along the edge of the village green towards the woods. Crispin had come into The Clock House yesterday to introduce himself and give her a few pointers for setting up the room for the village meeting he’d called for later in the week.
The number one topic to be discussed was to be the Whispers Wood annual tree-lighting ceremony. Apparently there was going to be carols on the green beforehand and Kate had mentioned The Clock House providing a drinks stand.
Emma couldn’t wait for a proper taste of the village community all coming together.
She wondered if Jake would be there.
Not that it should matter either way.
Although wouldn’t it look a bit strange if the owner of the largest estate in the village didn’t attend?
She supposed it was possible he’d have left Whispers Wood by then anyway and then she was calling herself all sorts of idiot because she’d been doing so, so well not bouncing up and down with questions about him. In fact she hadn’t been thinking about him at all.
Well, hardly, at any rate.
If she wanted to get the best out of her time here she really didn’t need to be thinking about a certain brooding bachelor. All she should be doing was thinking about how to ensure she did a good job running Cocktails & Chai.
The sound of heavy footsteps was right behind her now and without pausing to think, she reached into her bag and whirling around, commanded the invader of her personal space to, ‘Back off if you want to keep your dignity because I’m trained in krav maga.’
‘Whoa – backing off.’
Emma blinked up at the very person she’d just been congratulating herself for not thinking about.
‘Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart-attack,’ she accused, absolutely sure that the super-bright white light of the lamplight was capturing the heat suffusing her face beautifully.
‘I see that,’ Jake said, lowering his gaze to what she was holding in her hand, ‘and if it makes you feel any better I’m completely certain you could have taken me down with that packet of crumpets.’
Emma looked at the now slightly squashed crumpets she’d been brandishing like a can of mace, and lowered her arm back to her side.
‘Sorry,’ she said, a bit glum because maybe the tin or the pint would have wiped the smile off his face. ‘You shouldn’t creep up on people, though.’
‘It really wasn’t my intention to scare you. I’m sorry. Just as a note though, this is Whispers Wood, not Hollywood,’ his grin got fuller and his voice gentled, ‘Hollywood.’
Impossible man.
Being all nice to her, slowing her world down to it just being the two of them under the lamplight, and giving her time to get her heart-rate back to somewhere in the normal range. Not that her heart appeared to be listening to either of them the way it continued to skip about.
Emma cleared her throat. ‘Yes well, I’m not used to this walking everywhere thing that you all do. In LA everyone drives everywhere.’
‘I really thought you’d heard me call out to you.’
She had. She’d just thought she was imagining that gorgeous voice of his.
‘You heading back to Wren Cottage?’ he asked, as she put the packet of crumpets back in her bag.
She nodded. ‘You heading back to Knightley Hall?’
‘Yep.’
Neither of them moved and she scrabbled around for something to say that wasn’t, ‘What was up with the way you left The Clock House the other day?’ So of course what came out was, ‘You’ve shaved off your beard.’
He grinned. ‘Nothing gets past you, does it, Detective Danes.’
She guessed not. Which was why she was able to make the observation that without the facial hair, his lips looked even more … she bit down hard on her lip because she wanted to say sensuous. But if she did that would mean admitting how easy she found it to focus on that mouth of his.
And focusing on Jake Knightley?
Exactly. So was not the point of being in Whispers Wood.
‘Aren’t you cold without it?’ she asked, annoyed with herself for not letting it go. ‘You must feel so naked.’ Quickly she lowered her chin until her mouth was cut off by her thick woolly scarf because even to her own ears her voice had sounded disproportionately loud and accusatory. How had they gone from assault with a deadly crumpet to talking about nakedness?
Actually let’s make it a little more mortifying and admit that it was only her talking about nakedness. Not him. Which then made her will him to start talking about nakedness so that it wasn’t only her.
‘Actually I do feel a bit naked without it,’ he admitted.
‘Well, thank God. I’d hate to be the only one in this place that feels the cold.’
His gaze tracked over her ridiculous scarf and he laughed and the deep, rich earthy tone, did something very peculiar to her knees, in that they sort of giggled, making her feel unsteady on her feet.
‘So you’ve been thinking about me naked, Hollywood?’
She had only one way to go with that and so she went there really fast. ‘Oh, completely,’ she said, nodding her head vigorously so that her scarf loosened. ‘Utterly. Yep. Barely been able to think about anything else. Consumes my every waking moment.’ She stepped forward as if to let him in on a secret. ‘So tiring … bordering on boring.’
‘All right. I get it. If you must know I thought going for slightly shorter hair and no beard would make me look less—’
‘Less?’ If anything it made him look more. Darn it. There she went with her noticing again when she was supposed to be focused on doing work she was good at and that made her happy and in the process restoring her confidence in herself.
‘I thought it would help someone see me in a less Lady Chatterley’s lover light, that’s all.’
‘Do you mean me?’ she asked, without thinking.
‘No.’ His laugh this time was one of genuine bemusement and Emma wanted to swallow her own tongue. ‘Why would I care what light you saw me in?’
‘Absolutely no reason at all,’ she said, absurdly peeved to find that since they’d met she’d occupied not one corner of his mind. ‘It’s all this unpolluted fresh air,’ she complained, hoping he didn’t hear the slight breathless note in her reply. ‘It’s giving me brain-freeze.’
‘Let’s walk, then. It’ll warm you up.’ And just like that they were walking towards the woods together. As if they’d been getting on famously from the second they met. But then, ever since their eyes had connected over his designs for The Clock House courtyard…
‘So how’s it going at The Clock House?’ Jake asked.
‘Good,’ Emma answered. ‘Kate wants me to interview for a member of staff. You know, to help out if it gets busy. To be honest I’m not sure it’s going to be necessary.’
‘Of course it will be. Have you ever managed a place like Cocktails & Chai before?’
‘Sort of.’
‘For real, or for acting real?’
‘For real,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. ‘Why on earth did you think I’d come here?’
‘Honestly? To learn the ropes for a part you wanted.’
‘You thought I was here to Christian Bale myself into a role?’ she risked a quick glance up at him and realised he wasn’t totally convinced she still wasn’t. ‘What, you think I’ve adopted some sort of character for the duration I’m here? Is that what everyone thinks?’
‘Probably.’
So the residents she had met already thought she was second-best to a real bar manager. ‘Well, I’ll just have to convince you all otherwise,’ she promised. ‘How do you think I met Kate?’
‘I assumed while she was travelling.’
‘I really want to say the thing about when you assume but I suppose, technically, you’re right. She came in to write a review of the bar I worked in. A few years on and I knew enough so that I could run the bar when the owner, Rudy, went out of town.’ You see, she wanted to point out. I’m hardly a stranger to commitment.
‘Then you already know you can’t do everything on your own. Unless you want to let everyone down when you keel-over from burnout?’
‘I’ve no intention of letting anyone down. And I’ve no intention of burning out. Tomorrow is my day off and I’m going to—’ she hesitated.
‘Going to?’
‘As it happens I’m going to spend the day in Chawton.’
‘Chawton – sounds as if I should know it.’ His hand came out to rub over his clean-shaven jaw. ‘What’s in Chawton?’
‘Jane Austen’s House Museum.’
‘Right. More old things.’
‘Is there something wrong with doing a little sight-seeing on my day off? Soaking up a little culture? Getting away from Whispers Wood for a while?’
He had the grace to look embarrassed as he mumbled, ‘No, no, and no.’
She was content to let his acknowledgements rest in the air for a moment as they walked through the woods.
‘Are you driving there?’
‘No way. I’ve seen The Holiday. I’m not even attempting driving on the wrong side of the road in a shift-stick Mini or something equally small. Kate has to go into town anyway so she’s dropping me off at the station. So what do you do on your days off then?’
‘I spend time in the gardens.’
‘That doesn’t really sound like a day off.’
‘Only to you. To me, it’s great. Peace and quiet and some manual labour.’
‘Mindfulness 101.’
He nodded. ‘Putting your hands in the earth does give you that zen-like quality of life that’s so elusive when you’re constantly plugged in.’
‘Have you lived that life then, the one where you’re constantly plugged in?’
For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer and then he was saying softly, ‘Once upon a time.’
‘And you fell out of love with it?’
‘Maybe it fell out of love with me.’
She waited and when he didn’t elaborate she huffed out a breath. ‘Are you this cryptic with everyone, or is it just me?’
‘Oh, definitely just you.’
‘Right. Don’t trust the imposter. I get it.’
‘Are you pouting, Hollywood?’
She didn’t answer and after a moment, he surprised her by confiding, ‘When your family has lived in a place like Whispers Wood, generation after generation, you get used to everyone already knowing your life story. You fall out of the habit of volunteering personal information.’
‘And?’ she asked.
‘And?’ he mimicked, one eyebrow shooting up.
‘Oh, come on. There has to be more to it than that.’
He was silent for a moment and then added, ‘I guess I sort of forget how to talk to people sometimes. Comes from working on my own a lot.’
‘Working too much on your own can make you a little paranoid.’
‘Hey, just because I’m paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me,’ he said with a laugh.
The way he said it definitely made her think he’d been burned. ‘What happened to make you believe every newcomer is here to personally shake you down?’
He turned his head so that she couldn’t see his expression and his tone was mild when he said, ‘Nothing happened.’
Too mild. She felt the spike of sadness that he obviously didn’t trust her.
‘So do you not have anyone to help you with the gardens?’ she asked.
‘I can’t afford to take on anyone at the moment.’
‘And what are you going to do if you keel-over from burnout in those gardens of yours? Who’s going to come to your rescue?’
‘Are you kidding? This is Whispers Wood. If someone from the village doesn’t work it out in five minutes, I’m pretty sure one of my five brothers and sisters would stumble across me.’
‘You have five siblings? Do they all live around here?’
‘No, thank God. At the moment I only have to worry about Sarah and Seth popping in every five minutes.’
‘I’m finding it hard picturing you as someone from a large family. You must be the oldest, right?’
‘Nope. Middle.’
‘Ah. The peace-maker.’
He looked at her in surprise.
‘With that many siblings someone has to be. So maybe Sarah and Seth are popping around to get advice and be listened to. They probably love having you nearby.’
‘They hate it. Because after the listening and the calming everyone down, invariably comes the lecture.’
‘I’d start calling it “advice” – at least in your own head. Sounds better, doesn’t it?’
‘You seem to know an awful lot about family dynamics. Do you come from a large family?’
‘Nope. Only child.’
‘Actually, that makes total sense.’
‘It does?’ She looked up at him. ‘Explain, please.’
‘The acting.’
She walked a couple of paces and then trying very hard to take the ire out of her voice said, ‘Do you think I went into acting to get attention because I was an only child?’
‘No, I think you might have been lonely.’
She tripped over a tree root. At least that was what she told herself as he automatically put his arm out to prevent her falling. ‘Okay?’ he asked, that super-intense gaze seeking out hers.
She nodded, and glanced away. After pausing to shove her scarf back, she said, ‘You couldn’t be more wrong. I had lots of friends and a perfect childhood.’
‘No one has a perfect childhood, Hollywood.’
‘Well, I did.’ Even as she said it she wondered what it was about this man that made her speak without thinking. Someone so completely comfortable in his own skin should make her feel comfortable too, right? Why on earth was she pretending to be perfect for him? He didn’t care either way. Worse, he saw right through it.
It must just be because she was getting nervous about seeing her dad again after such a long time. Nervous she’d take one look at him being perfect with his new perfect family and wonder why it couldn’t have been that way with her. ‘So, what’s your plan for not keeling over with overwork then?’ she asked, determined to bring them back onto safer ground. ‘I take it you do have one?’
‘I do. It’s called a holiday.’
‘The getting away for Christmas? I got the impression that wasn’t so much of a holiday as an escape.’
‘Eager to see the back of me, Hollywood?’
‘Couldn’t care less!’
He stopped and turned to stare down at her and vaguely she realised they’d arrived at Wren Cottage. As his eyes searched hers he must have seen something she’d been hoping to hide because his voice was soft and thoughtful when he said, ‘Huh. Turns out you really are a good actress.’
‘Turns out you have an ego the size of a—’
She didn’t get the rest of the words out because suddenly he was reaching out and tugging on the end of her scarf and for one insane moment she genuinely thought he was going to close the distance between them and stop her mouth with his.
Instead those lips of his twitched as he swung the ends of her scarf in opposite directions around her neck, nearly knocking her out as the giant pom-poms at each end bounced off each side of her head. ‘’Night Hollywood. Enjoy your day off tomorrow,’ and whistling The Holly and the Ivy, he sauntered off down the road.