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Authors: Jan Hurst-Nicholson

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Adam held open the greenhouse door, which was threatening to fall off its hinges, and they stepped into the earthy atmosphere. It smelled of
onions, the season’s crop having been strung up to dry. Beneath the rows of onions were plant cuttings set in compost-filled pots. The grape vines, having surrendered their grapes, had been cut back and stripped of all green foliage. Adam noticed the demi-johns of fermenting grapes. “A wine-maker too?” he asked.

She laughed. “Not me. Those are Charlie’s
, my neighbour. He’s been threatening to make wine for ages. I’ll be glad when he transfers the stuff into bottles and takes it home. I don’t fancy them exploding in here.”

“This is one thing we don’t have much u
se for in Hawaii – a greenhouse.”

“Did you do any gardening?”

“Not really. Everything pretty much grows by itself in a sub-tropical climate. But we do have a gardener to keep everything in check.”

“I expect you have some really exotic plants,” she said, looking wistfully at her own poor efforts struggling for survival in a greenhouse she couldn’t afford to heat.

“Michelle – my late wife – loved the red jade vine we had creeping over a structure my father made. It was like walking through a tunnel of coral red flowers. They’re quite spectacular when they cascade down. They look like upturned flamingo bills.”

“Isn’t a red
jade vine a bit of a misnomer?” she asked, smiling.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he said, laughing.

“Did you live in Hawaii with your wife and children?”

“For the first few years, but she wanted the children to have a British education, so we came back here. But we holidayed at my parent’s home in Hawaii, and sometimes on my grandparent’s ranch in Texas. The children had the best of both worlds.”  His bantering tone had gone, and she was sorry she had brought up the subject of his family
, it was obviously still a raw wound.

“Now, where are these herbs you’re so proud of?” he said.

She led him to the end of the greenhouse where rows of planters held an array of lush herbs. “You can use most of them to make teas, but I prefer peppermint or lemon grass.”

“Let’s try the peppermint, mint is usually innocuous.”

She picked up a pair of scissors and snipped off some stems, careful not to damage the plant. “That should be enough. Let’s go.”

He followed her back to the kitchen and she filled the kettle with water and switched it on before turning to Adam. “Would you like to make yourself comfortable in the lounge while I make the tea?”

She waited until he’d gone and then called to Erica. “Do you want tea, Erica?” When there was no response she went to Erica’s room and opened the door. “I said, do you want a cup of tea?”

“No thank you.”

“But it’s rude to stay in your room when we have a visitor.”

“I’m not going to sit there and have him secretly laughing at me,” she said sullenly.

“I’m sure Mr Wild wouldn’t do that. But I’m not going to force you,” she said, closing the door and shaking her head.

She took the tray into the lounge and explained to Adam, “Erica is still too mortified to join us.”

He was leaning on the bookcase flipping through one of her books. They were written under a pseudonym, but it was obvious that they must be hers because they were ten of them lined up together all in pristine condition.

“Is this one of yours?”

“Yes. But I’m sure it won’t be to your taste,” she said, hoping he’d put it aside. But he continued to read, and she sent up a silent prayer that it was not one of the more racy passages he was reading.

He turned a page and then, looking directly at her, raised an eyebrow and allowed one side of his mouth to turn up. “Do you do a lot of research
before writing your books?”

She felt the warmth creep into her face. “It’s not exactly erotica,” she snapped.

He gave a wry smile and started reading a passage aloud: “The honeysuckle had just come into bloom and the heady smell perfumed the garden.  Flora had cut it back at the right time and it was full of blossoms, the best it had been for several years.”  His grin was even wider. “Should I perhaps have chosen a more
interesting
page?”

Oh, God, he was referring to the gardening. He was enjoying her discomfort. Her face must be crimson.  Was he teasing her, or flirting with her? She’d had one of her characters declare that if
a man and a woman were discussing sex, they were flirting.


Nicole, my late wife’s kid sister, used to read these as a teenager. But I warned her against them,” he said.

“Why ever would you do that? It’s just a bit of harmless escapism. Fiction is real life magnified, but with the boring bits omitted.”

“I told her she was setting herself up for a disappointment. No man in real life is going to match up to the ones she was reading about in the books. Not every romance ends happily ever after.”

“So you’ve read a lot of romance novels and you’re talking from experience?


Touché
. But I did read one – skimmed through it actually. Nicole insisted. She said I could only argue with her if I knew what I was talking about.  She was very passionate about it,” he added, laughing. He placed the book back in the bookshelf.

She waited before quietly replying, “Yes, teenage girls can be very intense with their feelings and emotions.”

He glanced up slightly puzzled at her tone and she wondered if he’d read the warning. He came to sit beside her, his knees almost touching the carved wooden coffee table. He was sitting in the cat’s place and she hoped he wouldn’t end up with cat hairs on his expensive suit.

She poured the tea and handed him a cup saying, “Perhaps more men should read romance books and then they’d find out what women really want. Romance sells more than any other genre, especially with e-books - now that other people can’t see what you’re reading.”

“And, in your opinion, what sort of men do women really want?”

“A lovable rogue.”

“In books, or in real life?”

“Lovable rogues for dating, but lovable rogues don’t often make good marriage material. It’s like men who date girls they wouldn’t take home to their mothers.”

“So, are you dating a lovable rogue – or waiting for a man with marriage potential?”

This was getting too personal. He was teasing her.  She was saved by a knock on the door and got up to answer it. “Hi Charlie, won’t you come in,” she said. A man in his forties followed her into the room. He looked at Adam with suspicion.

Adam rose and Faye introduced them. “Adam, this is Charlie. He lives across the road. Charlie this is Adam Wild, he’s Head of Erica’s school.”

“Pleased to meet you, Charlie,” said Adam, offering his hand. But Charlie didn’t look as pleased to meet Adam and merely nodded a greeting as he shook
hands.

He said to Faye. “I didn’t see your car in the driveway. I was wondering if everything is ok.”

“I had a bit of trouble with it and Adam brought us home.” She turned to Adam. “Charlie worries about us. Two women on their own.”

“Charlie is probably right to be concerned. I’m glad to hear you have someone looking out for you.”

“Would you like some mint tea?” Faye asked Charlie. “I’ve just made some.”

“No, thanks. I’d better get back to Mum,” he said, turning to leave. “Bye Faye. Goodbye Mr Wild.”

Faye closed the door behind him, wondering why he had been so curt with Adam.

“His Mum had a stroke,” she explained
. “He gave up a good job in drafting to look after her. He still draws house plans from home, and he makes furniture.  It used to be a hobby, but now it’s part of their income. He could make a lot more money, but he’s a perfectionist and only makes furniture to order and he takes his time. He made me this coffee table.”

Adam ran his fingers along the polished surface. “I can see what you mean by being a perfectionist. It’s not often you find this quality these days.”

“Yes. I’m lucky to have it.”

The phone shrilled and she went to answer it. It was the garage. Her car wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow, late morning.  She sighed. “I’ll have to ask Charlie to take Erica to school in the morning.

“Don’t worry. I’m going past. I’ll give her a lift – if she’s not too mortified to accept. But tell her she’ll have to be ready early. I get there at
eight fifteen.”

 

The following morning Lisa was walking into school when she saw Adam’s Jeep already in the car park. She was surprised to see him go round to the passenger side and open the door, and even more surprised when he helped Erica Rawlings down. She stumbled and he caught her in his arms. He handed her schoolbag to her and she limped into the building.

“What was all that about?”

Adam told her the story and she smiled to herself. Faye was single and he seemed to like her. She wondered whether he’d had girlfriends in the five years since his wife died. It was hard to believe there had been no one since Michelle. But he’d seemed to drift from job to job doing relief teaching, and one year as a deputy head. He probably hadn’t stayed long enough to form a relationship, and he was still in love with Michelle. He’d told Neil he wanted to return to Hawaii, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Michelle and the children, whose graves were in a local cemetery. He’d just about made his mind up to leave when he’d been offered the head’s job, and with it being Michelle’s old school and the governing body wanting to instil some discipline, he’d felt sure he was meant to take it.

Shortly after assembly Lisa’s phone rang.
She answered it and then tapped on Adam’s door before walking into his office. He was studying the computer screen. “Barbara Crook has been trying to get hold of you,” she said. Lisa fielded all his landline calls, but most of the staff now had his mobile number.

“I know,” he said, glancing at the phone on his desk
, which he’d switched off. “What does she want this time?”

“It’s the printer. She says it’s not working. She wants to print recipes for the girls to take home. She wants to know if you can look at
it.”

“Tell her to email the recipes to the girls.”

“I tried that, but she claims that some of the girls say they never receive them if she emails.”

“Take a memory stick and load whatever she wants onto it and bring it here to print – and make sure to tell her that you’ll do the printing.”

He’d obviously got the measure of Barbara Crook.

 

 

 

 

C
HAPTER EIGHT

 

 

L
isa was unpacking the groceries in their kitchen while Neil stacked them in the cupboard when she came across a small brown packet with the pharmacy’s name on it. What had Neil bought? She opened it and was shocked to see a packet of condoms. Her stomach lurched. Why was he buying condoms if they were trying for a baby? She found she was gripping the counter as a myriad of sordid scenarios flashed though her mind.

He was asking her why she’d bought a different type of cat food, but she wasn’t listening.

“I said, why have you changed the cat’s food?”

He turned and saw the shocked and fearful expression on her face. “What’s wrong, Lisa?”

She held up the packet of condoms. He burst out laughing. “Did you think they were for me?

“Well, who are they for?” she demanded.

“Adam.”

“Adam
?”

“Yes, Adam.”

“But why on earth are you buying condoms for Adam?”

He chuckled. It’s quite funny really. He told me that one of the girl’s mother works at the supermarket and she’s been telling everyone what he buys. He doesn’t know which supermarket, let alone which mother, so he asked me to get some.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I promised him I wouldn’t mention it to you.”

She sighed with relief, guilty that she’d even suspected him of having an affair. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

“I didn’t like to ask, but I’ve got a suspicion it could be Danielle.”

“Danielle Du Bois from the sailing club?”

“Yes. You know what she’s like.”

“I think you could be right. She managed to trick me into lending her my phone and she found his number in it. But I thought Adam could do better than that.”

“C’mon Lisa, don’t be catty. That’s not like you.”

“Two divorces at thirty-six. And you forget that we went to the same school. Even back then she was known as the local bike.”

“Give the man a break, Lisa. Danielle can be pretty persistent. But I think she’s finding him a bit more difficult to snare than the ones she usually catches with that yacht – asking men she fancies to crew for her. Apparently she’s offered to sell it to him.”

“That Hilbre class one? I thought it belonged to her ex.”

“It did. But he left it to her when he went overseas. I think it was to get her off his back,” said Neil.

“D’you think Adam will buy it? There aren’t many Hilbre class yachts left.”

“Maybe - as long as Danielle doesn’t come with it,” he said, laughing.

“But in the meantime he’s taking what’s on offer?” she said, grinning.

“You should know all about the motion of the ocean,” he said, slipping his arms round her.  She grinned, remembering the first time they’d made love on a yacht.

“Please make sure to warn Adam about her. She can be trouble – she will be trouble if he’s taken up with her.”

“Okay, I’ll mention it. But Adam’s a big boy. I’m sure he can take care of himself. Besides, he’s still in love with Michelle
. He’s not looking for a long-term relationship.”

“But he’s not going to turn down a few one-nighters. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I wouldn’t have put it as bluntly as that – but, yes.”

That may be so, she thought, but
Adam doesn’t know what Danielle Du Bois is capable of if she’s crossed. And it wouldn’t be long before he found out.

 

The following week Lisa was printing the agenda for the staff meeting when she heard the brisk click of high heels coming towards her office. She looked up to see Danielle standing in the doorway her face a mask of fury.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“Good afternoon, Danielle. To whom are you referring?”

“You know damn well who. That bastard, Adam Wild.”

“He’s not in his office. If you wait here I’ll see if he’s available,” she said, making the mistake of glancing in the direction of the staffroom. It was enough for Danielle. She marched out, her heels beating an angry retreat. Lisa hurried after her, but it was only a short distance and she had no chance of overtaking the raging woman before she barged into the staffroom. 

Adam was sitting with his back to the door. As he spun round Danielle’s hand connected with his face in a resounding slap. There was a collective appalled gasp as Adam sprang to his feet, his face dark with fury. “What the hell...?”

Danielle raised her hand again, her mouth twisted in rage. “You bastard. You son of a bitch.”

He grabbed her wrists and she struggled and writhed in an attempt to escape his firm grasp. Realising it was futile, she brought her knee sharply up to his groin, but he twisted and deflected it from its target and it connected with his leg. 

“Stop it. Calm down. What’s wrong with you?”

“That woman you were shopping with in the supermarket, who was she?” she snarled, still struggling to free her wrists.

His eyes were black with anger. “It’s none of your damn business who I shop with. But it happened to be my mother-in-law.”

But Danielle wasn’t listening. Blind fury had overtaken her and she fought back, twisting in a
n unsuccessful attempt to wrench her arm from his grasp. In an effort to stop her struggles he folded his arms around her, pinning her hands behind her back and preventing her knee from finding its goal. Trapped in his powerful arms she continued her tirade of abuse, firing accusations at him like a spitting cat, “How dare you block my phone calls. And don’t think you can renege on buying the yacht. You can’t just brush me off.”

“Danielle. Stop it. This isn’t the place.”

“Where is the place? You’ve been avoiding me. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily. It’s time everyone knows what an arrogant lying two-timing bastard you are. You’ll be sorry. ” Her shrill voice was carrying down the passage for anyone to hear. In an attempt to silence her he covered her mouth with his own.

The effect of his kiss was
immediate, as if she’d been injected with a tranquilliser. She ceased struggling and moulded her body to his, pressing against him. He relaxed his grip and her hands broke free and snaked round his neck, her fingers raking through his hair. She gave little moans of pleasure, grinding her body into his, oblivious of the staff watching in appalled and embarrassed silence.
Maybe she likes an audience,
thought Lisa, who wouldn’t put anything past Danielle Du Bois. Adam’s hands were on her shoulders, trying to ease her away, but she held on with a limpet-like grip until he was finally able to unwind her hands from around his neck and whisper something in her ear and her hands slid reluctantly down his back.

Taking a firm grip on her arm he propelled her towards the door. Turning, he gave them a grim smile, “Excuse us, ladies.”

Lisa heard the door to the First Aid room open and close. There was a bed in there. Surely Adam wouldn’t be that indiscreet?

No one spoke for a moment, and then
Barbara Crook’s voice broke the silence. “Well, that was a turn on.”

Scandalised faces turned in her direction.

“What? Isn’t there a bit of a voyeur in all of us? Have you never heard of dogging?”

“No. What’s dogging?” asked Kate O’Brien.

“You teach sex education and you don’t know what dogging is? It’s people having sex in -.”

But she was cut off by Eleanor Stannard. “I don’t think we need to know any further details, thank you very much, Miss Crook.”

Lisa had to admit it had been a bit of a turn-on, like watching a love scene in a film, but far more intimate. She felt sure she wasn’t alone in trying to suppress the mental image of what was going on in the adjoining room.

And then Jenna was sneering, “So much for your ‘he’s still in love with his late wife’. It’s obvious he’s not been celibate for quite some time.”

“That’s not fair, Jenna. He’s still young and good looking, you can’t expect him to be celibate, but I don’t think he’s ready yet for a committed relationship.”

“Sex without commitment. Typical male.”

“That’s quite enough discussion on this subject,” said Eleanor Stannard.

Eleanor
is right,
thought Lisa. They shouldn’t be discussing Adam like this, it was disloyal. “Is the tea still hot?” she said, heading for the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Danielle’s heels were clip-clopping along the corridor and Adam was standing in the doorway finger-combing his hair. Whatever he’d said - or done, it had obviously worked as Danielle was hovering behind him like a purring cat. “I trust this unpleasant little incident will go no further than this room,” he said, looking round at them with a tight smile.

There were murmurs of agreement, but Lisa wasn’t sure she could keep it from Neil as she watched Adam guide Danielle hurriedly out towards the car park.

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