‘So, how was the village?’ Reece takes a sip of his tea and rests his chin on a hand as he looks at me, a leading tone in his voice, like he knows I will have heard things this morning and he’s waiting for me to tell him what they are.
The curd tart is too good not to have another bite before I get into it. ‘You can probably guess the hottest topic of conversation in town…’
‘The mysterious woman in the campervan the colour of an unripe banana?’
‘Nope,’ I say, although I reconsider it because I probablyamthe subject of village gossip too, but whatever info they could garner from me about the pub was more important than my own reasons for being here. ‘A certain builder and his mysterious boss who are working on their beloved pub and not telling them anything about it…’
‘Oh, joy.’ He groans. ‘I can’t tell you the immense elation that brings me. Can’t you see how happy I am?’
He points to his face and his mouth pings up into a smile so bright and so sarcastic that I’m surprised there wasn’t an audible ding, and I can’t help grinning.
He turns serious again. ‘Let me get this straight. They sacrificed their chances of gossip aboutyou… to see what they could squeeze out of you aboutme? They’re going rogue.’
‘I think they thought they were skilled enough at gossip-mongering to do both. Kill two birds with one slice of Victoria sponge cake, so to speak.’
He laughs, and I like being able to make him laugh. I like the feeling of being listened to and feeling like I’mworthlistening to. The more time I spend here, the more I realise it was something sorely missing from my life. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes me feel like I still have something to offer, like my ideas and thoughts and dreams aren’t as silly as I’ve felt they were until now.
‘And to think, I was so glad you’d arrived because I thought it would take the heat off me.’ He takes another bite of curd tart and then says, ‘Let me guess, you were physically hauled out of the shop and dragged across the green to the ex-tearoom, where Wilma tried to intimidate you with her “terrifying headmistress” glare and when you tried to politely refuse tea and cake, Madge was one step away from physically poking it down your throat?’
I can’t help the snort that escapes. ‘Were you following me or something?’
‘It’s a common occurrence for all outsiders, and a rite of passage for all newcomers.’ He laughs again. ‘So, which tactic did they take? Asking if you knew anything or telling you what theythinkthey know and hoping you’d confirm or deny?’
‘A fair bit of both, I think… Put it this way, your boss isn’t Jake Gyllenhaal, is he? Only Madge wants to sculpt him naked, so pass that on if he is. He deserves the advanced warning.’
Reece laughs. ‘Yeah, Madge asked me once too. I politely declined.’
I regret the gulp of tea I’d just taken when I choke on it. ‘And to think, there could’ve been a naked statue of you gracing the village roundabout.’
‘A regret I’ll have to live with every day, I assure you.’
I smile at his sarcasm, but something still niggles at me about all of this. Heseemslike he’s being open, but he hasn’t given anything away. For all I know, maybe his bossisJake Gyllenhaal.
‘So…areyou working for some huge Hollywood star or banker-type millionaire who wants to use this place as a second home? And why is it that in this village where everyone knows everything about everyone else’s business, the one thing none of them know is exactly what you’re doing up here?’
He shrugs. ‘I’m notdoinganything. My boss bought the pub to turn it into a family home. He intended to move here, but his plans went awry, and doing it up has been a bigger and more costly job than he’d planned on. I’m not being secretive, there just isn’t anything more to tell. And client confidentiality too, of course. It’s not my place to discuss my employer’s private business with the locals.’ His fingers fiddle with the handle of his mug, and there’s something about his suddenly awkward demeanour that doesn’t ring true.
‘They seem upset about losing the pub. I was told stories of their legendary quiz nights. Apparently it got so competitive that Madge still has a scar…’
He looks at me for a few moments, as if weighing up how much he trusts me, and then sighs. ‘There was a minor issue when Mrs Patchett first sold it. To avoid bad feeling in the village, she told everyone the new owner would continue to run it as a pub, but that was untrue. That option was never on the table. My boss never agreed to any such thing, but now they’re convinced he’s backed out of this non-existent deal and is determined to ruin their village, but the truth is that he loves this place too and just wants what’s best for everybody without bankrupting himself completely.’ He takes a breath and doesn’t look me in the eyes.
‘If you told people that, they might go easier on you. Less anti-Kingfisher-House banners.’
‘I know. I also have this teeny-tiny little vindictive streak where the more they push, the less I want to share with them. The village gossip has been a shock. The more they gossip, the more determined I become not to give them anything to gossip about.’
I can’t help laughing again because I relate, hard. ‘There is a normal person underneath that “sunshine and rainbows” outlook then?’
‘I’m notallsunshine and rainbows all the time.’ He meets my gaze across the table with a grin, and I catch something in his expression, but before I can work out what it is, he rolls his eyes when I don’t smile back. ‘I just don’t like being sad. Life is a gift and so many people forget to remember that. Everyone would be a lot happier if they appreciated what they have, rather than getting stuck on what they don’t have.’
‘I like that,’ I admit, thinking it over. I’m definitely guilty of letting life pass by with annoyance and frustration, and never taking a step back to appreciate the good things too, and he seems like someone who’s got the balance right. Although I’m still not sold on his attitude to leg injuries and ceilings falling down as minor inconveniences, I like his upbeat approach to everything, even if it does feel like it’s disguising something.
His smile has got a way of making me smile too, and we only drop eye contact when he looks down for another bite of curd tart and a gulp of tea.
‘Why didn’t you tell me the car park was private property?’ I finally decide to tackle the other interesting information I learned in the village today.
‘Didn’t I?’ He takes an unconvincing interest in the bottom of his mug.
‘Reece! You thought you were safe camping there because the bloody place is off-limits! Why didn’t you say that? Did I miss a sign or something?’
