‘Right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘So that’s sorted. What else can we do to ensure this is the festival to end all festivals? A Ferris wheel? A carousel?’
Christian looked up from tapping on his phone. ‘All good ideas. But we need to remember there’s only so much space.’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hmmm, we’re surrounded by hills, and farms, and it’s a fundraiser for a pool. I feel there’s something there…’ He gazed off into the distance. ‘I’ve got it! We could do a giant slip and slide and create one of those makeshift pools using hay bales. People would love it! People could pay for, say, a thirty-minute swim and they could pay per slide. Can’t you just imagine it? They’d come from all over to have a swim and a slide. Hell, we could try and make it a world-record thing. The world’s longest slip and slide.’
Jody found herself nodding enthusiastically. ‘That could be cool. Really cool. And maybe, if we do go for the record, the local news might pick it up and that could bring us some promotion.’
‘Local news? Oh no, let’s go regional. No, national. Why do a little when you can do a lot. More is more, Jody. More is more.’
Christian dropped down onto the grass, then grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him. Close. Their knees brushed and those volts of energy surged, up her thigh, straight to the area she’d purposefully ignored for the last decade. She inched her knee away, and then pulled her hand out of Christian’s, ignoring how empty it suddenly felt. And how perfect it had felt being held by a strong and capable hand, as opposed to two soft young ones.
‘Jody, this wonderful mural of yours needs to have the people of Rabbits Leap milling in front of it every summer as they wait for the pool to open. And I think the water theme combined with the anniversary of the eviction of the rabbits is going to take this little festival of yours to the next level.’
‘Well, then. Let’s do it! Let’s make it happen.’ Jody paused, uncertainty coiled in her belly. ‘Um, Christian? How are we going to make this happen?’
Christian threw his head back and laughed. Deep, chocolatey. Sexy too.
Stop perving. He’ll leave. They always do, one way or the other. You don’t need that kind of rejection.
‘And that, Jody, is why the town hired me. I can make it happen. You might need to point me in the direction of a farmer who does the old square hay bales as opposed to the round ones. But the rest? I can sort the rest. Just you watch. That’s what Rabbits Leap’s paying me for.’
The uncertainty evaporated, only to be replaced with the urge to tell Christian the truth about his coming to Rabbits Leap. ‘Christian. Can you keep a secret?’
Christian angled his head and gave her a curious glance. ‘I can be the soul of discretion.’
She leant in, motioned for him to do the same, and whispered, ‘The town isn’t paying for you to be here. I am.’
Christian’s jaw dropped, revealing perfectly even, nicely spaced, white teeth. Was there anything imperfect about this man? And why was she thinking about his teeth and general good-lookingness when she’d just told him the truth about his employment.
‘But why? Why you? Why not the town?’
Jody sighed. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth. She was too ashamed. But she could skirt around it. ‘The thing is, Christian, this town has been good to me. When my mother passed away they organised the funeral because my father was in no way capable of doing so. He was pretty much in denial and just set about running the pub as if nothing had happened. Over those months the women of Rabbits Leap were always bringing stews and pies, hand-me-down clothes, anything they thought Tony and I might need. In their own way, and alongside my grandparents, they helped raise us until I got to be older and became self-sufficient enough that I could care for Tony and myself.’ She pulled at the grass, threw the tufts aside, tugged at it some more. ‘When the boys came along they helped me as much as I’d let them. Showed me how to change a nappy, how to bathe them. When mastitis hit, they saw the signs early enough and ensured I was taken care of. And again there was the food and the hand-me-downs. Apparently nobody throws anything away in this town. Even now, the boys are wearing clothing that belonged to Mrs Harper’s sons.’ She brought her knees up to her chest in a hug and looked up into the hills, lush green with swathes of gold where the rape fields bloomed. ‘So when they asked me to take on the festival, I said yes. Without hesitation. I owe this town so much. I owe them the good life I’ve lived. It could’ve so easily gone the other way.’
‘So, when you realised wrangling with the two Mrs H’s wasn’t going to plan and things were going nowhere fast, you called me in.’ Christian nodded in understanding. ‘Well, I’m glad you did. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this project, very much.’ He flashed her another smile. The wide-mouthed open kind that made Jody glad she was sitting because her knees probably couldn’t have held her up had she been standing.
Another time, another place, another situation, and she could have quite liked Christian. More than liked him. But she had her vow to keep and two young boys to grow into two fine young men before she could bother with that side of things. And after that? She’d be safe. She wouldn’t need to use the boys as an excuse to keep relationships at bay, because there was no one in Rabbits Leap who’d ever caught her eye, and Christian would be going back to London, well out of temptation’s way.
Still, as the sun glinted off his artfully styled brown hair, his eyes sparkling with excitement, she couldn’t help but think ‘what if?’.
Christian took a sip of his flat white and slumped back in the café’s retro metal-framed, cherry-coloured wooden chair, the milky, earthy liquid soothing the confusion jangling his thought processes. For a second outside the old pool he’d felt a connection with Jody. And not because they’d reached some sort of truce, and decided to stop fighting each other. It had been different. The kind of connection you feel when your eyes meet your date’s over a few glasses of something alcoholic at a bar. Or when you’ve gone out with a woman a few times and it’s time to take things to the next level. And you both want to.
Except he didn’t want to. Even if some chemical part of him did. Jody was beautiful and clearly talented, but there was the matter of the boys, who were currently sitting to the left of him, their twin heads bowed towards a tablet screen as they tap-tap-tapped on some game. They weren’t part of his life plan. He didn’t think it would be fair to raise a child in an environment where work and winning came first. Sure, he’d survived. Just. He’d been forced to grow from a shy and awkward boy to a strong man who others paid attention to, listened to, and were happy to take orders from. Well, apart from the older festival committee members of Rabbits Leap. But he’d sort them out soon enough. Yes, his home environment had brought success, but deep in his gut he suspected there were other, better ways to raise a family. Ways he knew nothing of, and didn’t have the role models to learn from.
‘So, we’re all good then?’ Jody looked up from the serviette she’d scribbled notes on. ‘We’ve got the ideas for festival activities down, so now we just have to decide what people will find more enjoyable, and I’m sorry, Christian, but I just don’t think food trucks will fly when compared to one of our baking stalls. We’ve some master bakers here, and you’ve tried Mel’s scones. Who wouldn’t want one of those?’
Christian eyed the crumbs left on his plate. ‘They’re delicious, don’t get me wrong, but while you locals trust the baking here, home-baked goods might not