CHAPTER FOUR
Monday was all about bulbs, so Hannah got into work early, sorting them into those that were still good for spring planting and those that were getting past their sell-by date, and then sticking fluorescent discount labels on the latter.
Later in the morning, she gathered together the first set of sorted and priced bulbs and tugged them to the display outside the entrance. To her right stood the Lucky Parrot Coffee Shop with its cheery yellow and green décor, and already a few customers were occupying some of the wooden, cushion-backed seats.
One customer stood out, snagging her attention as she breezed past the glass door.
A tall, dark-haired man was seated near the counter. He appeared to be engrossed in reading a loose sheet of paper, his attention never wavering as he lifted a cup to his mouth and took a sip.
Hannah frowned. Impossible!
Suddenly, a child burst through the café door, giving her a clearer view. She shrank back instinctively. It was indeed her new neighbour, Daniel Elliott. She tried not to, but could not avoid remembering her nudity and the glimpse he must have enjoyed for those endless two or three seconds before she managed to correct her towel slippage.
He looked up and caught her staring.
Damn.
Hannah glowered at him, not pleased to find Ivy’s great-nephew at her place of work too. Was nowhere safe? She had so many jobs to get through today, and it would be much harder to concentrate with him around.
Slowly he raised his hand.
The child had left the glass door open. At that moment, a strong wintry gust swept through from the entrance doors and seized Daniel’s papers off the table, whisking them into the air and swirling them around.
Daniel cursed and leapt to his feet, slamming one hand down on the pile to stop any more blowing away, while he snatched at the flying sheets with the other. His abrupt movement rocked the table, and his cup sloshed coffee everywhere.
She should just get back to her work and leave him to it, Hannah thought, watching.
Then sighed, and went over to help him, closing the door carefully behind her to avoid any further gusts.
‘Pretty windy today,’ she said awkwardly, not looking at him as she bent to retrieve some of the scattered papers. ‘You probably ought to use a paper clip.’
‘Thank you,’ he said drily, taking the sheets from her and stacking them back on the table. ‘For the help … and the tip.’
There was one sheet under a neighbouring table, occupied by a silver-haired old lady eating a toasted, buttered teacake with trembling fingers. Hannah scooted across to recover the lost document, shooting the customer an apologetic smile as she crouched down at her feet. Picking up the creased piece of paper, she smoothed it out, and saw it was some kind of script, with character names followed by dialogue.
Katy appeared beside her, her eyes wide. She was on café duty that week, so was decked out in the special café uniform, a green skirt and yellow blouse topped with a white plastic apron. ‘Psst, what on earth are you doing in here?’ she hissed, dragging her away from the curious old lady. ‘Camilla’s on the war path this morning. Think she’s got boyfriend trouble again. Better not get caught slacking.’
‘She was just helping me,’ Daniel said deeply from behind them, and both women turned to stare, Hannah hurriedly handing back his document. ‘I had an accident. Spilled my coffee and managed to throw half the contents of my briefcase on the floor.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Katy looked from him to Hannah, her lips parted in surprise, then quickly recovered herself. She held up the damp cloth she’d been clutching. ‘Coffee spillage, did you say? I’m on the case.’
Once his papers were back in a neat pile, and Katy had wiped the table free of coffee, and even offered him a top-up on the house, Hannah slipped away without saying goodbye.
It was nice to know that Daniel was also capable of looking a bit of an idiot at times, she thought, and it wasn’t just her.
Feeling a lot more cheerful, Hannah went back to sorting spring bulbs. The second pile of bulbs sporting bright yellow sales stickers grew quickly as she got into a rhythm, and she was engrossed in her work when a shadow blocked the light.
She glanced up, a little breathless from exertion, her mousey-brown fringe drooping in her eyes, and saw Daniel looking down at her.
His gaze drifted from her face to her chest and settled there. Oh, for goodness sake! Hannah tightened her grip on the bulb in her hand until she felt like it would burst. If Daniel so much as mentioned Saturday, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.
‘No frostbite then, after their exposure on – ’
‘Not another word.’ Furious, Hannah lobbed the bulb at Daniel’s head.
‘Sorry!’ He snagged the bulb neatly out of the air, his eyes full of wicked humour. ‘But you have to admit, it was funny. I thought Christmas had come early.’
‘All right, all right,’ she said bitterly, straightening up, ‘there’s no need to milk it.’
As the inadvertent pun she’d made registered, Daniel rocked back on his heels and roared with laughter. Hannah hesitated, then couldn’t help joining him.
‘I don’t believe I said that.’ She buried her face in her hands, then peeked out of her fingers at him. ‘It’s not the breast pun I’ve ever made,’ she added, which set them both off again.
Between laughs, Daniel added, ‘You’re just racking them up now, aren’t you?’
When their hilarity finally subsided, he handed her back the bulb she’d thrown at him, saying, ‘Thank you for that. You’ve provided me with the most fun I’ve had in … Well, in years.’
Hannah wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or flattered by that. She was trying to make up her mind when he suddenly asked, ‘Hannah, would you like to have lunch with me?’
Lunch?
After she’d thrown a spring bulb at his head? And decided he was a vampire and scattered garlic over her threshold to keep him out?
Perhaps he was crazy.
She blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his invitation. She was equally eager not to notice how startlingly green his eyes were, and how being at the centre of all his focus made her feel unsettled and set tingles travelling over her skin.
‘Ahem.’ She cleared her throat, looking down at her bulbs again. ‘Lunch? With you?’
‘That’s the idea, yes.’
Trying to hide how flustered she was, she bagged some bulbs, not even caring if they were the right ones, and stuck on a random sale label. ‘Like a … a date?’
‘Exactly like a date.’
‘Why?’
He paused, clearly surprised. ‘Does there need to be a reason?’
‘Well, yes, there does. I’m at work, for a start, and I don’t usually get asked to go to lunch when I’m at work. In fact, I think this is a first.’
‘I see.’ His expression lightened as if she’d said something amusing again. ‘Look, I like you, that’s all, and I want to get to know you a little better.’ He glanced at his phone for the time. ‘You’re surely due for a lunch break soon. Maybe we could grab something in the café, if that’s more convenient for you?’
Hannah thought about sitting opposite Daniel in her horrid yellow and green Lucky Parrot uniform, and her flyaway hair and lack of makeup, and felt herself blush. ‘I don’t think so. Thank you, but it wouldn’t be right to eat lunch with a customer. Not on a day when I’m working, at any rate.’
Besides which, despite their laughter, there was a whole catalogue of humiliating episodes littering the brief few times she had seen him. She didn’t particularly feel like tempting fate by spending any more time in his proximity. On top of all that, he was a bit too attractive and sophisticated for her.
While her brain was busy making these arguments against the dangers of lunch, another part of her was sitting up and yelling, ‘Say yes, say yes!’
‘Your line manager doesn’t have a problem with you lunching with a customer.’
‘How can you possibly know that?’
‘I asked her,’ he said coolly.
Hannah stared, lost for words, then said slowly, ‘You’d have to put up with my uniform.’ The garish yellow and parrot green dungarees were not exactly haute couture, and there’d be no hiding that he was lunching with staff.
If she thought that would put him off she was wrong.
‘It doesn’t bother me.’ He looked her up and down. ‘I rather like the uniform here. It’s certainly … unforgettable. So, will you join me for lunch?’
Sam approached, his spiky tuft of hair making him look like a parrot himself. ‘Time for your break, Hannah. Look smart. There’s Yorkshire rarebit on the menu today and ….’ His voice faded away, and he looked from Hannah to Daniel, no doubt recognising him as the sinister cricket-buying man. ‘Sorry, am I interrupting something?’
‘No.’
‘Yes.’
Hannah and Daniel both spoke at once, and Sam looked confused. ‘Erm ..’
‘I’m trying to persuade Hannah to have lunch with me,’ Daniel said smoothly.
‘Great idea. She doesn’t get out enough.’ Sam frowned at Daniel. ‘How did those crickets work out for you?’ He winked at Hannah.
‘They were very tasty, thanks.’
Sam gave an embarrassed laugh, then frowned, looking at Daniel more closely. ‘Hang on, do I … know you? You look familiar.’
‘I’m Daniel Elliott.’ He held out his hand. ‘I don’t think we’ve met before, except in the context of buying up your stores of edible insects.’
Sam shook it, still staring. ‘Sam Eagles. Wait, there’s a Hollywood film director called Daniel Elliott. I’m a film buff, read all the latest mags and website. And you do look a bit like him.’ He stopped shaking his hand but did not let go, squinting at Daniel, ‘You’re actually him, aren’t you? You’re that Daniel Elliott.’
Daniel managed to extricate his hand but smiled politely enough at Sam. ‘Yes, that’s me. It’s always great to meet a fan.’ He turned to Hannah, a somewhat hunted expression on his face now. ‘So, are we having lunch?’
Hollywood?
He was famous? A film director?
‘Say yes, Hannah,’ Sam said, urging her with a sharp elbow in her ribs. ‘You’ve got to, okay? If you don’t, I’ll go instead. It’s such an opportunity.’
Hannah, half-minded to stammer some excuse and run away, caught Daniel’s eye. ‘Yes, why not?’ Then kicked herself for being so soft. He was not in her league. She worked in a garden centre, and he was … what? Some world-famous celebrity? But for a moment there, he had looked… almost vulnerable. And she had forgotten the differences between them, and only wanted to save him from Sam, who was a nice lad but could be a right nuisance at times. ‘And the Yorkshire rarebit is pretty good here.’
Mondays were quiet in the café. Thank goodness, she thought, glad not to be the object of attention as she followed Daniel mutely.
He picked a table at the edge of the room as far away from the door as possible. No doubt worried about his paper napkin being blown off his lap by another unexpected gust, Hannah thought, suppressing a grin. She took the seat opposite him, feeling highly self-conscious but not uncomfortable. It was impossible to feel ill at ease in the Lucky Parrot Café with its cheerful yellow-and-white gingham tablecloths, and its gentle sense of intimacy, the potted plants and miniature trees that decorated the café creating little alcoves, like the one they were occupying. She had always found it a very restful place … except when the mums-and-tots group met on a Wednesday afternoon, filling the quiet air with shrieks, wails and the buzz of motherly gossip.
‘Very pretty,’ Daniel murmured, glancing about the café with approval before meeting her nervous gaze. ‘Do you come here often?’
‘It has been known.’
‘Not many other cafés for miles around though,’ he said, smiling at her surprise. ‘I googled. So I suppose it’s this or sandwiches.’
‘I tend to alternate,’ she said, though that wasn’t strictly true. Sandwiches were cheaper, despite the staff discount on meals here. But she wasn’t discussing her finances with this man.
Winking fairy lights and festive red-and-gold tinsel strung about the walls livened the room, providing an antidote against the dull grey of approaching rain. Though it was nippy enough today to snow, Hannah thought, and shivered at the thought of her long walk home if the white stuff began to fall before closing time.
He followed her gaze, peering out of the nearest window. ‘Looks like snow soon.’
Was he some kind of mind-reader?
‘It’s a bit early for snow,’ she said tartly, and snapped her menu open, pretending to read what was printed there when in fact her eyes could hardly focus on anything but his face.
Sam appeared, waving a white paper napkin at Daniel. ‘Would you sign this, please?’
Daniel, showing a great deal of patience, produced a smart-looking pen from an inner pocket of his jacket and signed the napkin.
Sam went back to work, head bent over his hero’s signature, his face dreamy.
Katy came over to take their order, smiling broadly and giggling. Before she’d even asked what they wanted to drink, she held out a paper napkin. ‘Could you sign one for me too, please, Mr Elliott?’
Hannah glared at her. ‘Katy, you don’t even know who he is.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Katy smirked at Daniel, her look admiring. ‘He’s a big shot Hollywood director. He’s even been nominated for an Oscar. Sam told me.’
Dutifully, Daniel signed her napkin and handed it back. ‘So tell me, Katy’ he said, smiling up at his waitress, ‘what’s so special about Yorkshire rarebit?’
Her expression suddenly wiped blank, Katy struggled to find an answer, then said weakly, ‘Erm … Well, it’s from Yorkshire.’
Hannah grimaced at Daniel, but he merely smiled back at her, unrelenting.
‘Go on,’ he said.
‘It’s got good Yorkshire ale added to it,’ Katy managed to add, finishing with a rush, ‘and it tastes … super.’
‘Any garlic in it?’
‘I doubt it. We don’t really do garlic in Yorkshire.’
‘What about blood – ’
Under the table, Hannah aimed a kick at his shin.
He yelped, breaking off mid-sentence, and reached down to rub his leg, his tone rueful. ‘Sorry, not blood. I meant black pudding. Do you have anything with that?’
‘We serve pork pies with black pudding. They’re quite popular.’
‘I’ll stick with the Yorkshire rarebit, thanks.’
‘Me too,’ Hannah said promptly, and handed over her menu. ‘With a pot of tea.’
‘Tea for me too, please.’
After Katy had left them alone, her curious gaze barely leaving Daniel’s face the entire time, he leant across the table and whispered, ‘That hurt. You didn’t have to kick me quite so hard.’
‘Lay off the vampire allusions. I made a silly mistake.’ She gave him a smouldering glance. ‘There’s no need to keep rubbing it in.’
‘Sure, I’ll let it go. Though don’t blame me if it ends up in a film one day … ’
‘You dare!’
He grinned, relaxing. ‘Okay, tell me about your co-workers instead. They seem a lively bunch.’
‘That’s one way of putting it. They’re total pranksters, which livens things up at work. The job is rarely boring with them around, I’ll say that.’ She paused, watching Katy as the petite blonde busied herself behind the counter, swiftly setting out their tea cups and pots. ‘Some of them are good friends too.’
‘So you enjoy your work?’
Hannah nodded. ‘I like working outdoors, and with plants. And there’s always something different to do here.’
He read the hesitation in her face. ‘But?’
‘But … ’ she repeated slowly, holding his gaze, ‘I’d rather be working for myself.’
‘Go on.’
‘One day I hope to have my own landscaping business. That’s been my plan since leaving university. So working here means I can save for a business start-up while doing work I enjoy.’ She smiled. ‘It’s certainly better than working in an office.’
Daniel seemed interested in her business idea, she discovered. He was a good listener too, asking intelligent questions. She confided in him so easily, it surprised her, telling him how she hoped to add tree surgery and climbing to her qualifications so that she could tackle every aspect of landscaping.
She even told him about her idea for vampire gnomes, and enjoyed seeing him laugh
Their Yorkshire rarebit arrived, looking and smelling utterly gorgeous, laden with bacon bits and cheesy goodness. After Katy had put the plates in front of them, she lingered, her expression sheepish as she asked, ‘Sorry to disturb you again, Mr Elliott. But can you sign these for the others? They’d love your autograph as well.’ She bit her lip. ‘We don’t tend to get celebrities at the Lucky Parrot, so we need to make the most of it.’
‘Sure,’ he said casually. ‘Leave them with me and I’ll sign them when I’ve finished eating.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘Are you really famous?’ Hannah asked suspiciously, glancing at the bundle of napkins and assorted pieces of paper Katy had left on the edge of the table, ‘or is this another of their practical jokes?’
‘Wondering whether to join the autograph queue?
Hannah shook her head. ‘Sorry, I’m not into that sort of thing. I might be starstruck if you were a famous gardener, but I’m not much of a film buff. Not like Sam, anyway.’ She narrowed her eyes, studying him. ‘So, you didn’t say. Are you genuinely famous?’
His eyebrow crooked. ‘I thought I was fairly well-known, until now,’ he admitted, with mild chagrin. ‘But you’re doing an excellent job of deflating my ego.’
Hannah laughed. ‘I don’t expect it will do you any lasting harm. There are plenty of people fawning over you here. You won’t miss one. Is it always like this?’
‘Sometimes,’ he said candidly. ‘Fans tend to focus on actors, and I’m not often recognised so it’s not too bad.’ He grinned. ‘Except today.’
‘We don’t get much excitement here, so I expect they’ll be talking about your visit for ever. I think Mrs Arkwright is the most famous person to visit the Lucky Parrot in the last twenty years. Her claim to fame was winning the first prize for her damson jam at the village fair, ten years in a row. She officially opened the café.’
Daniel’s crack of laughter made heads turn.
As she tucked into her tasty rarebit, the potted plants to her right rustled, catching her attention. The fronds of one palm waved as though a breeze had caught them. Katy bustled around at the neighbouring tables, humming to herself as she replaced tablecloths and wiped down seats with what seemed like unnecessary vigour.
Hannah finished her mouthful and leaned closer to Daniel. ‘So what are you working on at the moment? Can you say?’
The potted plants rustled again, sounding as though a family of monkeys were hiding in the leaves. Hannah tried to ignore it.
‘Of course,’ he said, and swallowed his own mouthful. ‘There’s nothing secret about the project. I’ll be working on a psychological thriller soon, an adaptation of a novel called Forget Her Name. Have you read it?’
Hannah shook her head.
‘It’s very good, you should. Most of the filming will take place on location in London, and in a studio there.’ He named a famous acting couple who would be starring in it. ‘We start filming in eight weeks.’
She wanted to keep eating, but it was impossible to ignore the excitable waving plants anymore. Hannah turned and said sharply, ‘For goodness’ sake, Sam, please go away. I know you’re behind the plants. Stop eavesdropping. Haven’t you got any work to do?’
There was a silence.
Sam appeared from behind the plant display, his spiky head bent, and hurried out of the café without looking at them.
‘You too, Katy,’ she continued, and shook her head. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t wiped the wood grain right off those seats.’
Slightly shamefaced, Katy shuffled back behind the counter and began wiping that instead, watching them from time-to-time with a vaguely resentful air.
‘So that’s what you meant about them being pranksters,’ Daniel said, laughing.
‘That’s nothing. Wait until I tell you about the hens.’
‘Please, tell me now.’
‘No.’ Hannah tucked into the Yorkshire rarebit again, savouring the rich taste. ‘My life is very ordinary. Tell me about your films instead.’
So Daniel told her more about his latest project, and then went on to discuss the scripts he was reading for possible future films. ‘That’s what all those papers were that I managed to scatter everywhere. A film script I’m reading.’
‘Is it fun working with famous people?’
‘It can be challenging having to deal with big egos, but sometimes it’s very rewarding too. The bottom line is, stars are just normal people underneath, and I’ve made some good friends among the people I’ve worked with. In fact, that’s how I got Woody.’
She couldn’t place the name immediately. ‘Woody Allen, you mean?’
‘God, no. My snake, remember?’ He laughed at her expression. ‘He was a gift from an actress who starred in one of my films.’
Hannah shuddered. ‘I like most animals, but not snakes. Sorry.’
‘Oh, you’d like Woody. He’s a real character, and not big enough to be scary. Brown Garter snakes can be escape artists though. One time I was hosting a party with possible producers and funders, and there was this almighty scream from the bathroom. We all went running in and there was the producer’s wife in a hysterical huddle against the wall, and Woody looking at her innocently over the top of the toilet bowl.’
Hannah laughed at the image of a little brown snake peering out of the toilet. She thought he sounded quite cute.
‘You should come over one day and meet him.’
Hannah looked at him, suddenly uncertain again. ‘Oh, I … ’
At that moment, Mr Turner scurried past their table, a menu held up to his face as if that would somehow render him invisible. His eyes were turned towards them though, and he stared wide-eyed at Daniel as he went past. A few seconds later, there was a thump and a muffled curse.
Daniel looked round, distracted.
Slowly righting a fallen chair, Mr Turner then bent to retrieve the menu, which had skittered under a table, and handed it to a solicitous-looking Katy. Then their boss limped out of the café, rubbing his knee awkwardly and not looking back.
She met Daniel’s eyes as he turned back, and they both smiled. Then there was a moment of something more between them. A deep gleam of interest that arrested Hannah’s breath and made her forget what she had been going to say. Time seemed to halt, locking them both in some silent moment of acknowledgement, a bubble no one else could penetrate.
No one except Katy, apparently.
‘Can I get you anything else?’
Hannah scowled at Katy’s interruption but it was too late. The moment was shattered and couldn’t be recaptured.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Daniel said.
Katy looked pointedly from her watch to Hannah, wiggling her brows as she tried to convey the time to Hannah, who took the hint.
Damn.
‘I’d better get back to work,’ she said, dredging up a cheery smile so he wouldn’t know how she was feeling.
‘Of course.’ He stood up. ‘Let me sign these napkins, and pay for lunch. Then I’ll walk you back to your flower bulbs.’
‘No, I’d better get back straightaway.’ She hesitated. ‘Thank you for lunch. It was … different.’
‘No problem. You were very good company.’ Daniel seemed about to say something else, but then studied her face and nodded. ‘I’ll see you around, then.’
Then he took out his smart pen, sat down again, and drew the pile of napkins and papers towards him, head already bent.
With a sigh, Hannah handed her empty plate to a sympathetic Katy, and headed off back to finish sorting bulbs.
Her lunch idyll with the Hollywood director was over.
Which was just as well, she told herself sternly, beginning to label spring bulbs upside down with the wrong date, and neither noticing nor caring.
Daniel had his world, and she had hers. And never the twain shall meet.