The First Time I Saw Your Face (25 page)

Mack knew he kept looking at Jennifer, at her tight-fitting top and skirt with black boots. Graceful even sitting down.

Lisa was on her feet now, still a little sulky, and she started up with the speech where she professes her love for the Duke without him being aware of the true meaning of the words. To Mack it sounded as if she was making a hash of it, and he saw the look that passed between Jennifer and Finlay.

Later, when they broke off for tea and flapjacks, he tracked Jennifer down to the kitchen and stood just out
of view, not because he thought he’d pick up something about Cressida but because he didn’t want to interrupt what he was hearing. Jennifer was obviously helping Lisa with her speech, and in Jennifer’s mouth the thing that Lisa had just murdered was raised into something intensely affecting. He imagined Jennifer’s body moving in response to the words, adding a trace of lightness here, some weight there.

He heard Lisa have a go and it sounded like someone reading a shopping list in comparison.

‘Thanks, Jen,’ Lisa said when she’d finished, ‘didn’t realise you knew the whole play off by heart.’

‘Oh, come on, Lisa, I’m not that sad.’ There was that soft laugh. ‘But I’ve played Viola so often, she’s kind of in my head.’

They took another hour and a half to limp to the end of the play, the fight scene between Mack and Gerry being a particularly low point, when Gerry, unused to any physical exertion, managed to smack Neale in the eye. Neale wasn’t even in the scene, just standing off to one side learning his lines.

Mack didn’t want to think what the fight would be like with swords, even if they were blunt. On second thoughts, maybe he could impale himself on one, and put an end to the whole stinking charade.

CHAPTER 23

Jennifer thought it was probably time to call a halt to what had started off as a bit of light-hearted ribaldry between her and Sheila. Now Lionel was climbing right up on his PC high horse, which was a tricky manoeuvre as he was also trying to order some books online. The woman he was doing it for was not looking amused.

‘It’s complete objectification, that’s all I’m saying.’ Lionel used the mouse from the computer to jab his point into the air.

‘Is it, rot,’ Sheila retorted. ‘It’s simply an appreciation of the finer things in life.’

‘Really?’ The heavy weight on that first syllable indicated Lionel was not convinced.

‘Furthermore,’ Sheila said, ‘you’re suggesting women shouldn’t voice their attraction for men. And I thought you were a champion of equality?’

Jennifer had to turn away at that, feeling her loyalties were becoming divided. On the one hand, Sheila was having a hard time with Reece again (who wanted to go
to Ibiza to join his elder brother). On the other, Lionel was a sweetheart and looked genuinely put out. She suspected that it was
who
was being discussed rather than the words being used that was really annoying him.

‘I
am
a champion of equality,’ Lionel objected. ‘I’m the last person who wants a return to the Victorian age, when women weren’t even meant to look at their own …’ He glanced up at the woman he was helping. Too late. She snatched her ticket out of his hand and walked away.

‘Watch it, potty-mouth,’ Sheila said with a cackle. ‘That’s much worse than me saying I thought Matt’s backside looked like a couple of ripe peaches. Oh, hey up, here he comes. Ssh now.’

Jennifer turned to see Matt making his way down the spiral staircase and wondered why the metal treads were not melting under his feet. The way he moved, that slightly worried expression that was always lurking, they were making her feel like she wanted to break a lot of library rules.

‘Yes, definitely ripe peaches,’ Sheila said as Matt came up to the desk and Jennifer heard Lionel ‘Tsk’ and walk away.

‘Peaches?’ Matt asked, looking wonderfully puzzled.

‘Oh, don’t mind me, pet. Just making my shopping list.’ Sheila picked up a pencil and waved it about. ‘Cat food, beans, broccoli, fresh peaches.’

‘This time of year?’

‘Oh, it can get quite hot here in Northumberland, end of March.’

‘Hot flushes anyway,’ Jennifer said quietly.

Matt looked completely confused before saying, ‘I’m a bit peckish. How do you feel about lunch, Jennifer, can you go yet?’

‘Lionel’s meant to be going for lunch first.’ Sheila was grinning. ‘But don’t mind that, you trot along instead. I need to have more of a chat with him about soft, downy fruit and hard, ripe—’

‘I’ll get my coat,’ Jennifer said.

Matt was still looking bewildered when Jennifer met him outside, and as they were waiting for a table in the café, he said, ‘Why is Sheila so interested in fruit?’

Jennifer didn’t reply, choosing instead to enjoy the intimacy of being shoved up against him as they queued, his shoulder against hers. He repeated the question and she still didn’t answer, knowing that he would turn to her to see if she’d heard. When he did, faced with those eyes and his slightly parted lips, she dropped her gaze and said, ‘Scurvy, her family are prone to it.’

The sound of a donkey braying saved her from further explanation and she scrabbled for her phone.

‘I will kill Danny. Um … do you mind if I just go outside and answer this, it’s … I won’t be long.’

Mack watched her go out and stand in the courtyard of the café. Today she had on a beautiful pale mauve suede coat and sexy little ankle boots. Her chin was up and her face animated and he guessed it was Cressida on the phone. There was something telling about the way she was
laughing and how her free hand was relaxed, but picking little bits of moss off one of the walls. Cress was up early, what was happening?

Did I just think ‘sexy boots’?

He looked at Jennifer again and particularly the scarring. It was the bit near her eye that was most off-putting, probably because her eyes were so beautiful. She turned her back, and he filled in the time wondering how sad he should pretend to be about his late girlfriend.

Tiring quickly of that, he watched Jennifer turn slightly with the phone still to her ear and thought of the call he’d had from Tess earlier. Phyllida was due out of hospital at the weekend and Tess seemed upbeat about how she was – a bit irritable and disorientated, but not bad. That had put Mack on alert and he had asked whether Stephen Fry, Stephen Hawking or Professor Brian Cox had been visiting her. They were the nicknames he had given the motley crew Phyllida drank with and when Tess said they had, Mack knew that one of them must be bringing her in drink. Stephen Hawking was his bet. He didn’t say anything to Tess; let her think the best and he’d try and sort it out when he was finished here.

He saw Jennifer put the phone back in her pocket as the waitress waved him towards a free table and, just out of interest, he watched what happened when Jennifer came back in. The waitress, who obviously knew her, simply said ‘Hello there, love’, a couple of other people smiled sympathetically, some looked and then looked away; one man couldn’t take his eyes off her and a small child had to be
pulled back round in his seat and whispered at quite fiercely. How the Hell did she get used to that? Always under scrutiny. Bit like Cress.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said, bright-cheeked from the cold and went and hung her coat up. The blouse under it looked like silk.

‘Here,’ she said, getting his notebook out of her bag, ‘found this upstairs when I went for my coat. We’re thinking of stapling all your possessions to your jacket.’

He did a quick assessment of whether she was flirting with him now he was minus girlfriend and did the surprised look he used when anyone handed him something he’d mislaid. Or in this case, had dropped on the floor earlier and kicked under a large bookcase so that just enough was left poking out to be spotted.

The man who had been staring at Jennifer earlier was still staring, and Mack caught his eye and stared back at him. The man looked away.

‘Important phone call?’ he asked as Jennifer studied the menu.

She mouthed the word, ‘Cress.’

‘OK, don’t say any more.’ He put his hand up. ‘You must get tired of people wanting to hear about her.’

‘No, I’m proud of her. I never begrudge anyone asking about her.’

Hurrah
.

‘Unless they’re just digging for dirt.’

Not so hurrah.

Mack saw that the nosy man was having another sneaky
look. Very slowly he let his hand drop and, checking it was out of Jennifer’s sight, gave him the finger. Not long after, the man got up, paid his bill and left.

‘She’s all right though … your cousin?’ he asked.

The waitress came to the table and they ordered.

‘You said something about a jealous wife …’ he prompted when the waitress had gone.

There was a nervous check on the people sitting nearby. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it here? I have to be careful.’

Great, at this rate, you’re not only going to be here for the play, you’ll be here for the ruddy Christmas pantomime too.

The place was packed. He needed to get her away somewhere quiet if he was going to make any headway. This morning he’d been ‘researching and writing up the notes’ from his latest walk up to Kielder Forest. It was definitely quiet up there.

Hang on, why’s she looking at you like that?

His guilty conscience, never far below the surface, gave his heart rate a bit of a kick.

‘Matt,’ Jennifer said, her blue eyes brimming with sympathy, ‘you don’t have to pretend to be all bright and breezy. How are you really feeling … about Sonia?’

It took him a second to remember that Sonia was his ex and not the lusty version in the shop.

‘I’m fine, really fine.’ He did a bit of sighing and tried not to think about how that soft, concerned look from Jennifer was making him feel.

She shook her head, sadly. ‘Don’t be silly. How can you
be fine, finishing a long-term relationship and being so far from all your friends and family? You told me I should show what I felt more; well, the same applies to you. If you want to sit quiet, I’ll understand.’

‘No, honestly, Jennifer, I’m actually feeling all right. It hadn’t been going well for a long time, me and Sonia, and in a way it’s a bit of a relief to get it all sorted.’ There was a hiatus while Jennifer’s soup and his sandwich were brought to the table, and he watched her shepherd some soup on to her spoon.

‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘I had a lovely walk up at Kielder yesterday that lifted my spirits. Do you like it up there?’

‘It’s OK,’ she answered without much enthusiasm, and before she said anything else he knew that she was going to take another step forward, trusting him with something that was precious to her.

‘Actually,’ she said, looking down at her soup spoon, ‘my favourite place in all Northumberland is Low Newton. It’s a beach, but more than a beach.’ She looked up then, and her eyes were full of life. ‘You should go there, Matt, you’d love it.’

‘Oh?’ he said softly, ‘you think so?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s hard to explain … the light, the colours, the atmosphere … they’re all magical.’

‘That’s a pretty big claim, Jennifer.’

‘It’s a pretty wonderful place, Matt.’

‘Prove it,’ he said and felt the conversation whisk out of his control.

Prove it? What happened to ‘I don’t suppose you’d consider showing me, would you?’

She was still looking at him and his mouth had gone dry.

‘All right,’ she said, slowly as if picking up the gauntlet he had thrown down, ‘I will.’

He took several large bites out of his sandwich so that neither of them needed to talk again for a while. She ate her soup. She even did that gracefully.

She put down her spoon again. ‘If you don’t like Low Newton, you won’t do that brutal-honesty thing will you? It’s really special to me, I don’t want it trashed.’

‘Jennifer, if it’s special to you, I’ll treat it with kid gloves,’ he said and did not understand why he had put his hand over hers to say it. He always seemed to be putting his hand over hers.

He saw her blush. It was the only time the scar seemed paler than her skin.

‘Would they be kid gloves you haven’t lost yet?’ she asked, and he felt her turn her hand under his so their palms were together.

‘Ah! Here you are,’ a voice said and Jennifer’s hand was suddenly not under his any more.

It was Alex, walking towards the table, pulling up a chair to join them, making a big palaver of taking off his waxed jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

Nice subliminal message about being ready for a fight there, Alex.

Had he seen Mack touching Jennifer’s hand and the way she had withdrawn it?

‘I’m just on my lunch,’ Jennifer said nervously and then looked at Mack as if realising she’d stated the obvious.

‘Yes, I saw you walking this way. Oh, waitress –’ Alex stuck his hand up in the air and did something with his fingers that was nearly a click, and Mack caught Jennifer’s eye and saw the embarrassment there – ‘latte and a toasted teacake.’

No ‘please’? No ‘hello, Matt’?

‘So,’ he said looking at Mack, finally, ‘only a couple of weeks till your big moment – how are rehearsals going?’

Like you care.

‘Really quite well,’ Mack said in his jumpy-dog voice. ‘People seem to be getting into their stride. The scenes with Pamela, Gerry and Steve are so funny. Tremendous. Most of that’s down to Jennifer here.’ He saw her colour again and hoped Alex noticed it. He could almost hear the guy working out how to slap him down.

Here it comes.

‘Saw Danny yesterday,’ Alex said, ‘told me you’d been to the farm. What did you think? As a complete outsider.’

Thanks for that … Now, what would good old Matt Harper say?

‘Fascinating. Never knew there was so much science involved. You know, scanning the sheep to see how many lambs they’re carrying.’

Alex shook his head, ‘That’s the easy part; it’s coping with all the bloody regulations and restrictions that’s tricky.’

‘I don’t think Matt wants to know about those,’ Jennifer said.