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      ‘The dudes will all be going to the Thatch, I imagine, but I won’t inflict that on you. A bunch of blokes all talking about waves, boards and sex wax isn’t what you signed up for. We’ll go somewhere a bit quieter.’

      ‘Sex wax?’

      He pointed to a sticker on his board, alongside the one that read Al Merrick. Sure enough, it advertised Sex Wax. ‘We all use it. It keeps your feet glued to the board. At least, that’s the theory.’ He swallowed the last of his drink. ‘And now, if you want to avert your eyes in maidenly fashion, I’ll just go round the back of the Land Rover and get out of this gear.’

      Jack took her to an unpretentious little café at the side of the road on the way back along the coast. It was an unprepossessing bungalow with absolutely no architectural value whatsoever, but she soon saw why he had chosen it. It had spectacular views. They were the only people in there and they had their pick of the Formica top tables. They chose one by a huge picture window, from where they could see across the confused jumble of grass-covered sand dunes to the sea. With the road hidden from view behind them, it felt like they were all alone in the middle of the dunes. It was lovely and warm in there and, with the sunshine outside, it almost felt like summer.

      He ordered an all-day breakfast while she opted for a mushroom omelette. Both of them chose tea and he asked for a glass of water. He was still looking red in the face, and Holly could feel her own cheeks glowing after just being out on the beach. All this fresh air was definitely doing her good. Beside them the dog lay stretched out, finally too tired even to register the arrival of sausage, bacon and eggs in front of Jack.

      While she waited for her omelette, Holly got Jack to exchange mobile numbers with her and sent him one of the less stimulating photos of him on the beach with Stirling. The one with the sun shining across his body, she kept to herself. The omelette arrived with a mountain of chips so she paced herself, trying to take her time and not eat too much. She looked across the table at him.

      ‘So, Jack, I now know you’re a dude, but I don’t know much more about you. Anything you feel you’d like to tell me – like why you deliver logs by day and read history books by night?’

      He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth as he swallowed a piece of fried bread. ‘Erm, my name is James Tyler Nelson, but I answer to Jack. I was born in a little village just outside Bristol thirty-eight years ago.’ If he spotted Holly’s eyebrows raise, he gave no sign. ‘From time to time I help Bob Cookson, our local farmer, with various jobs including log deliveries when his even older Land Rover won’t start – which is nearly always. I read history books because the TV reception in Brookford’s crap and there’s not much worth watching anyway. Right, I’ve shown you mine. Now you have to show me yours.’ He cut off a piece of sausage, dipped it in a fried egg and popped it into his mouth.

      Holly was bright enough to realise that he hadn’t really told her anything she didn’t already know, but she didn’t press the issue. ‘Mmh, interesting about the farmer’s truck. Maybe I should take a look at Mr Cookson’s Land Rover for him.’

      ‘Now that would be a very good way of guaranteeing yourself free firewood. Excellent idea.’

      He stripped the rind off a piece of bacon and handed it down to the dog who opened an eye, did a double-take and then swallowed it with an expression of disbelief. Holly finished her omelette while Jack cleared his plate and attacked the toast, butter and jam that had come with it. After a while, he took a mouthful of tea and sat back.

      ‘So, your turn. I’m afraid I already know your place and date of birth from your dad, so your age is not a secret to me. Because of him, I know he divorced your mother, but what about you? He knew next to nothing about you so neither do I. What do you do, where do you live, is there a Mr Holly? Come on, spill the beans.’ He chose that moment to take a forkful of baked beans from his plate.

      Holly told him about her job, her flat in London and her love of cars. She didn’t mention men, but he could draw his own conclusions. Part of her wanted to ask him about her father, but after the trauma of starting to read his letters, she didn’t feel up to it. Instead, she found herself chatting about all manner of things and even flirting with him a little. When it was time to go, she still knew next to nothing about him except for the fact that she liked him a lot. She got the impression he liked her too, but he wasn’t very demonstrative and certainly not touchy feely, which was a pity because every time she looked at his long fingers she found herself wondering how they would feel against her skin. She decided to turn the subject to more mundane matters.

      ‘So how was your all-day breakfast?’

      He finished his tea and sat back with a satisfied grin. ‘A culinary feast comparable to manna from heaven. It was sumptuous, delicious, outstanding and incredible. Ask the dog what he thinks. He’ll agree with me about the bacon rind.’

      ‘While on that topic, Mr Nelson – no feeding the dog at table, all right?’

      ‘Yes, Miss.’ He hung his head in mock shame.

      They got home just after dark. Holly looked at her watch. Four-thirty. She climbed down from the Land Rover and went up to Jack. ‘Thank you for a lovely day.’ She stood opposite him and waited for him to give her a hug or a kiss or even a shake of the hand. Instead, to her surprise, he drew back, muttered something in a gruff voice and set about untying the surfboard from the roof. Holly took the hint. ‘I’d better be getting home now. Thanks again, Jack.’ He raised a hand and gave her a quick wave. She and Stirling went back round the side of his house to their front door.

      Inside, it was warm and, thankfully, no longer smelt of wet dog. Fortunately, Stirling had resisted the temptation to follow Jack into the deeper water and his legs and belly had pretty much dried out in the café and on the ride home. Holly wondered what Jack’s car was going to smell like next morning. She went over to the kettle and dug out a teabag. The dog normally ate half his daily ration of food at lunchtime and half in the evening, so, knowing that he had only had a couple of biscuits and a piece of bacon rind for lunch, but conscious that he would be eating again in a few hours, Holly gave him a reduced portion and refilled his water bowl.

      All the time she was turning over in her mind the unexpected reaction she had received from Jack. She had really got the impression he liked her a lot and she certainly felt the same way about him, but she couldn’t miss his reluctance to reveal anything about himself or to make any sort of physical contact. And there was no doubt in her mind that a little physical contact, or even a lot of physical contact, was exactly what she was starting to think she might really quite like from him. She harrumphed to herself as she added milk to her tea. Having a hunky neighbour could be a frustrating business.

      Her mobile phone rang as she was sipping her tea. It was Julia. Holly set the mug down and proceeded to tell her the latest instalment of her adventures in Devon. Not having spoken to her since Sunday, she started by checking out how Julia’s love life was progressing. The answer was reassuring.

      ‘Scott’s coming round here tonight and I’m cooking him dinner. With all the trimmings.’

      Holly didn’t ask the exact nature of the trimmings. She had a pretty good idea already. She launched into a report of her afternoon tea with Justin the previous day. She received a satisfying number of oohs and aahs as she described the Christmas tree and the elegant dining room in the Castle and, of course, the handsome man himself, although she sensed that Julia’s interest flagged when she mentioned that he was still hung up on his wife. Then Holly described the day she had had with Jack, not omitting his fit body. This drew another couple of oohs. However, when she got to the nature of their parting and his obvious reluctance, she got a response СКАЧАТЬ