Trust Me Page 13

  And she stayed standing there for ages, furious with him, waiting to see if he’d crack first.

  But he hadn’t, he’d carried on. He’d stood his ground.

  And anyway, it was all too late. They were done.

  “I’ll be out of here by June. All the hours I’ve put into this place, for bugger all.”

  “Where you going?”

  “Dunno. As far away from here as I can. A beach. Somewhere hot. Somewhere, where there’s no mud.”

  There hadn’t seemed much point in carrying on, after she talked about selling the farm.

  “Has she had any estate agents round yet?”

  “What?”

  Sion looked at him confused.

  “You’re not tarting the place up for nothing.”

  “No, mate. You’ve got it wrong. She’s staying.”

  Jac stopped mashing.

  “You guys seriously need to talk.”

  “She came to see me,” he said, rubbing his face.

  “When?”

  “Last week.”

  “Why didn’t you try and make up?”

  “You think a few words will make it sweet? We’re way beyond that.”

  Sion was silent.

  “You're not gonna defend her, then?” Jac sniped. “Like you usually do, whenever I mention her.”

  He’d been out all day hiking in the hills and he was too tired for this shit.

  “Whatever, Jac,” he yawned. “You’re probably too late, anyway. Annie’s going out with Alun tonight.”

  “Butt out, Sion.”

  “Yeah, I know, mate. It’s complicated.”

  “I’ve done the deal on the sheep. It’s over between me and Annie.”

  Alun had snapped his hand off. Renting Annie’s land meant Alun could instantly double his farm.

  But, he was a tough cookie. And when they’d talked in the mart, Alun got a pen out, there and then, and scribbled a number on the back of a receipt. It was half what the stock was worth.

  Jac had taken the pen off him and crossed it out, writing another figure below it. They went like that four times until finally the amount was agreed.

  It was more than a fair price.

  Jac would stay till June, to finish the lambing, then they’d exchange the stock for money. It was the end of another chapter. Jac had no idea where he was heading next, and his stomach felt hollow every time he thought about it. It was not what he wanted, but as things stood, there was no other option.

  After they’d eaten, Sion loaded the dishwasher.

  “Who’s that from? It’s been sitting there for a week, mate.”

  He pointed up at an envelope on the kitchen windowsill.

  “No one.”

  The envelope had appeared on the doormat a week ago. Jac knew who it was from, and like her, he’d willed himself not to open it.

  “I’m gonna check on the ewes.”

  They were due to lamb anytime now. He put on his big waxed jacket and found the large torch. Not that he needed it. A full moon had been out earlier on that evening. Its silvery light reminded him of the night, once upon a time, when he’d walked through the fields with Annie.

  “I’m glad I took that torch,” he said from the door, taking off his boots, an hour later. “It’s clouded right over, and we’ve had a fair few flakes. The forecast’s right, we’re in for a dump of snow tonight.”

  Sion was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for him.

  “You’re one dumb bastard, you know that?”

  Jac looked at him confused.

  “You’re sitting here sulking, selling your stock. And she’s up there, all cut up, ‘cos she’s written to you telling you how much she loves you, and how she wants you to stay. But, you’re too chicken shit and stubborn to even open the bloody envelope.”

  The letter lay opened on the kitchen table.

  “You’ve crossed the line,” Jac shouted at him angrily.

  “No, Jac. I’m pulling you over it.”

  Sion put his hand on Jac’s shoulder as he stared at the letter.

  “Read it.”

  Sitting down, Jac heaved a sigh and did as he was bid.

  Dear Jac,

  Me and my big mouth. Everything I do and say I get wrong these days.

  Please forgive me. I got confused. I’ve been feeling so lost. It’s all come at once; losing my parents, my job, the people who I thought were my friends.

  But, the one thing I can’t bear to lose again is you. You’ve been lost to me before, and even though you’d gone, I could never let you go in my heart.

  And, before you say it. I know. It was my own stupid fault that I didn’t read your letters. We’re both too stubborn for our own good, especially me. And we both need to work on it. Or not argue ever again.

  I want to stay here, Jac, on the farm. But, there’s no way I can farm this place on my own. I’ve got plans too, but I need your help. Maybe, it’s just as a friend? Perhaps, it’s as something more? That’s up to you.

  I’ll be telling Alun that I’ve no intention of renting my land to him without you giving me proper notice that you’re going.

  Jac, I love you too much to let you drift away without telling me, again.

  So there. I’ve said it.

  The ball’s in your court now.

  Annie x

  Jac lifted his eyes towards Sion, who was quietly watching his friend.

  “She’s staying, mate.”

  “Yeah. Looks like it.”

  “D’ya wanna leave?”

  “No. But I can’t stay here, as things are.”

  “D’you want her?”

  “’Course I do.”

  “So, what’s stopping you?”

  “You know what.”

  “Mate, that rule you’ve lived by, it might’ve served you well in the army, but Annie’s different. You’re already way beyond rules with her. Don’t lose her again.”

  Jac put the letter in his shirt pocket and stood up straight.

  “I’m going for a walk.”

  “I’m off out too.”

  Sion got up and slapped him on the back.

  “Good luck, pal.”

  Jac strolled slowly through the fields up to the farmhouse, mulling over exactly what he was going to do next.

  The sky had clouded over in a thick blanket, and the air felt expectant and thick. Snow was coming. And as he walked towards the farm, big, wet flakes began to fall thick and fast, sticking quickly onto the ground. Jac had already moved the sheep to the most sheltered fields between the farm and the cottage, but snowfall meant that tomorrow would be a busy day.

  CHAPTER 16

  -----------✸----------

  It’s been a week since I wrote that letter, and his continued avoidance of me forces me reluctantly to conclude that I’m not forgiven. We’re over. And I won’t approach him again.

  The letter was enough.

  Alun came around to see me yesterday. He looked handsome as he stood on the doorstep with a bunch of tulips in his hand, asking me to have dinner with him.

  And at that moment, I thought, why not? Play the game in front of me, right?

  Unlike Jac, he wants me. And there’s no harm in us having dinner together, I convince myself. I need to discuss my plans with him, anyway.

  With my ego and confidence well and truly bruised by Jac, I go all out in trying to look good. After much dilemma and indecision, I’ve chosen to wear a green silk dress that I bought in New York. It shows off a little bit of cleavage and the colour goes well with my hair, which I’ve curled especially.

  When I’m done, I examine myself in the mirror.

  I haven’t looked like this since London.

  What am I doing? Am I seriously considering starting something with Alun?

  I think about it coolly as I’m applying my makeup. Perhaps, it is time to start being led by my head, and not my heart?

  Our farms lie side-by-side to each other. If I was a business, I’d be prime merger material. And
with Alun, I’d never need to worry about money.

  Where has passion got me? In a whole pile of problems with Seb. And now, in a far worse heap of heartache with Jac.

  My stomach knots as I think about Jac again. A wave of sadness engulfs me until I feel like I can’t breathe. The trouble is, I’ve always felt too much for him. And that’s blinded me to the truth, that he doesn’t feel the same way about me.

  If he did, he’d be here right now.

  “I’m a little early,” Alun apologises as I open the front door to let him in.

  He stops speaking as he appraises me.

  “You're looking very beautiful tonight, Annie.”

  “Thank you.”

  I’m flattered that I meet with his considered approval.

  He’s dressed well and has another large bunch of flowers in his hand.

  I take them gratefully from him and put them in a large jug of water in the kitchen sink. They’re lilies; stylish and expensive, and they remind me of Alun. They look fantastic, but they always make me sneeze.

  “I’ve reserved a table at La Galloise.”

  I reach for my faux-fur coat.

  “I’ve always wanted to try there.”

  It’s a smart restaurant down the coast that has gained quite a reputation for its delicious food and its breathtaking location, high on the cliffs above the small village of Freshwater Bay.

  “How did you get a table? They’re usually booked up weeks in advance.”

  He doesn’t answer but gives me a smug smile. He’s obviously a regular.

  And in that smile, and without arrogance, I see how my life with Alun would be.

  And he’s interested. His hand touches the small of my back as we cross the yard to his Range Rover. He opens the passenger side door for me, holding my hand as I climb up in my strappy high-heeled sandals.

  We could easily start dating.

  The images flash through my head. The big wedding. Our perfect kids, of course.

  It chills me to the bone.

  He’s polite and attentive all evening, ordering us apple martinis as we chat. And I hate to admit it, but in spite of myself, I am quite enjoying his company.

  He’s been away too, studying farm management, working on large estates in England, then in New Zealand. He doesn’t brag, but I can tell he’s well connected. He mentions the shooting weekends he goes on with his friends from university. I never took him for the horsey type, but he’s active in the local hunt. The circles he moves in; they’re all wealthy landowners. It’s a far cry from sheep farmers like my dad. And Jac.

  The food is French and fabulous. We feast on scallops with a pea purée, followed by a delicious crispy-skinned duck in a bitter cherry sauce. And we drink a little wine.

  I cover my glass with my hand as he tries to top it up again.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  I’m starting to feel a little buzzed.

  “I’m driving and there’s still some left.”

  “If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll switch to water.”

  We order coffees together with an unctuous chocolate mousse gâteau that we share.

  Time passes easily, as we talk about people from school, about farming, about his business deals. My life in New York and London.

  It’s all pleasant enough, but deep down, that is the problem. As I sober up, I know too that this isn’t enough.

  And yet, Jac’s stubborn silence screams like an alarm in my ears. Alun might be all that I could ever hope for now.

  “Have you had a chance to think about the future?”

  I look up from studying my coffee.

  “I have.”

  “About renting the land to me?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes catch mine, and I glance away.

  “I’m sorry, but at the moment I can’t.”

  “Annie, why not?”

  His voice has a note of tetchiness I’ve not heard before, and I can see the strain in his face.

  “The thing is, Alun,” I launch in, “I’m not sure if deep-down Jac wants to sell his sheep. If he tells me to my face, or in writing, that he’s giving up his tenancy, I promise, I’ll give you first refusal.”

  I read his face, which is set hard against me.

  “I can’t be fairer than that?”

  “Without the land, Jac has no deal.”

  He stares at me, like he’s studying a chessboard.

  “So, you’re trusting that hippy drifter to come through for you?”

  “No. There’s a tenancy agreement.”

  Until Jac tells me he’s going, until he’s gone, there’s still a grain of hope. There has to be.

  His narrowing eyes unnerve me, and I let out a deep breath.

  “Yes. I am.”

  We don’t stay long after that. We drive home through the snow showers that are getting steadily heavier as we head from the coast back into the hills. Like the snow, a sour mood is settling silently between us.

  Pulling up outside the farmhouse, I undo my seat belt and stretch over for the door handle. He makes a half-hearted attempt at a kiss, but anticipating the move, I peck him on the cheek before diving out the door.

  Skidding across the white carpeted concrete, it’s not until I’m locked inside the farmhouse that I can finally breathe easy.

  Whatever happens, I vow to myself, Alun is not the one for me.

  A knock at the front door startles me.

  “Hold on.”

  I kick off my wet sandals and go to unlock the door as the bell rings this time.

  Nothing, if not persistent. I thought Alun had got the message. I was sure he’d driven away. He must have come back. I obviously need to spell it out to him straight that I’m not interested.

  “Jac!”

  He’s covered in the white snowflakes that are blowing and swirling around us on the Arctic winds.

  “I read your letter.”

  I’m taken aback.

  “What?... Tonight?”

  His face cracks into a disarming smile, that only exasperates me further.

  “It’s been a week, Jac.”

  I’m determinedly refusing to thaw, despite his charms.

  “That’s still less time than it took for you to read mine.”

  He shoots me a smirk, brushing the snow off his head with his hand, and making my heart thump hard.

  I give him my best glare, unwilling to break.

  “You’re my tenant.” I stick to my guns. “If you want out, you need to give me fair notice.”

  I can feel the snowflakes blowing in and landing on my face. And my bare feet are turning numb from the cold.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes burn into mine as he edges closer towards me, making my traitorous body thrum.

  “In writing,” I tell him, my resolve cracking.

  He grins wolfishly at me, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him, out onto the icy doorstep.

  “Is that so? Like, in a letter?”

  “Yes, a letter would be acceptable,” I gasp. “I’ve told Alun there's no deal. And he won’t buy your ewes without my land.”

  “You sure?”

  I stare up at him searchingly.

  “Unless, you still wanna go?”

  I feel his hot breath on my snow-flaked hair as his face lowers towards mine.

  “Well then, can I let you know my intentions now?”

  “Now works for me.”

  He covers my lips, drawing me into a hot, long, lustful kiss.

  Feeling me trembling against his wet coat, he pulls away.

  “Annie, you’ve got nothing on your feet!”

  In one swift move, he scoops me up into his arms. Holding my legs firmly as my hands stretch up around his neck, he carries me inside the house, setting me down on the thick carpet.

  He gets out of his coat, and I get back my breath.

  I need to know for sure.

  “Are you still leaving?”


  "You still staying?”

  He gently takes my shoulders. Lifting his hand to my face, he brushes the wet drop of a melted snowflake off my cheek with his thumb.

  “Yes.”

  “Then, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay too.”

  His warm mouth is on mine again and I feel all the tension between us melting away, consumed by the heat inside us, as we kiss.

  “Let’s never fight again.”

  He covers my face, then my neck in hot, steamy kisses. His mouth moves to my ear.

  “I’m sorry, Annie, for being so mean to you.”

  “Me too,” I say, struggling to think, to breathe.

  “I should never have doubted you. I got so confused, back there.”

  “You still confused?”

  I pull away and gaze up at him.

  “I meant every word I said in that letter.”

  “Every word?”

  I nod as he inches closer.

  “That you love me?” he rasps, encircling me again in those strong arms.

  “Yes.”

  “I love you too, Annie. I always have.”

  He runs his fingers along my jaw, his eyes smouldering as his lips lower towards mine.

  “Where were we?”

  “You were staying and I was kissing you.”

  “Was it like this?”

  My heart pounds as he takes me ravenously by the mouth, pushing me back against the freshly painted wall of the hallway with all the pent-up passion that’s been building between us.

  “Yes, like that,” I gasp, our tongues dancing greedily together again, my lustful longing for him rocketing to new heights.

  “I love this,” he murmurs, moving his mouth hungrily over my throat, his avaricious hands exploring under my silky dress.

  I lead him up to my bedroom, where our eyes meet in thrillingly nervous anticipation.

  Standing by the bed, he takes both my hands.

  “You sure, Annie? Once we do this, there's no going back for either of us.”

  He’s right.

  “I trust you, Jac.”

  His deep chocolate eyes fix on mine. “I’m in new territory here with you.”

  Pulling me down with him onto the bed he begins tentatively to undress me, unzipping and shimmying my silky dress down over my hips.

  “Your feet are cold.”

  Taking them in his hands, he rubs them, trying to warm them up.