The problem was, she didn’t trust many people. She had learnt fourteen years ago that the only person she could rely on was herself and that a smile isn’t always as friendly as it seems.
And yet, she had just left a group of virtual strangers with free access to her cottage. Then again, she didn’t have much in there for them to take. Not that she thought they would take anything. Especially because of Tom.
Jenny had told Lara more than once that not everyone was like her aunt, uncle and cousins, and that most people were basically okay, but that some were cheats, liars, and worse. Lara knew that, of course. When her parents were alive, she had trusted everyone. Well, almost everyone. Even then she hadn’t particularly taken to her aunt, uncle, and cousins. But she had given them the benefit of the doubt. Until they had shown their true colours.
She had learnt to depend on no one but herself and to trust only her own instincts. She believed she had mellowed since she became friends with Jenny, but the truth was, she had virtually shut herself away and even now, she found it hard to mix with other people.
And yet, in the space of just a few days, she had felt a little like she once had, all those years ago. Was it because of where she was? In Bluewater Bay. The place she had been so happy with her parents during that last holiday. Or was it because of the people she had met? Like Tom. And Ula.
Perhaps she should try to be more like she had been back then. Yes. That’s what she would try to do.
When she spotted the pothole in the middle of the lane, it was as if it was a test. A test she couldn’t resist.
She glanced around, checking if anyone could see her before giving in to the overwhelming urge. With no one in sight, shehoisted up the hems of her jeans with her hands and was about to take a leap when an image flashed into her mind’s eye.
Spotting the broken branch on the grass verge, she picked it up, and poked one end of it into the pool of water stretching out in front of her. She was no fool. Like millions of others, she had seen that famous puddle sketch from The Vicar of Dibley sitcom.
Reassured that she would not disappear up to her neck in water, she hoisted up the hems of her jeans once more, took a deep breath, and jumped forward.
She let out a screech of surprise. The water was colder than she had expected. Even so, she giggled like a toddler as water, and unfortunately some mud, splashed, and splattered her jeans.
‘Cute.’
The male voice startled her and she lost her balance, her arms flailing wildly as she tipped forward and back trying to regain her composure. She probably looked like one of those tall, gangly air dancers often seen wobbling around outside stores, businesses, car showrooms, and the like.
Embarrassed and surprised, she glowered at Tom’s grandson.
‘Where did you come from?’ she snapped, taking in how athletic and tanned his long legs looked in the shorts he was wearing, and how the T-shirt clung to his perfect frame.
‘Gramps’ cottage,’ Jasper replied, striding towards her as his mouth curved into a smile and laughter filled his eyes.
‘That’s further down the lane and you’re coming from the wrong direction.’ She narrowed her eyes at him.
‘I was out for a run. I’ve been along the shore and I came up over the cliff just there.’ He pointed to the part of the cliff that sloped gently down to the sandy beach, and then he nodded towards the pool of water in the pothole in which she still stood. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, with a laugh and a cheeky wink. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’
‘I’m not worried.’ She raised her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. ‘Tell anyone you want. Not that there’s anything to tell.’
With a dramatic huff, she turned her back to him, and stepped out of the pothole. She was cross that he had seen her doing such a childish thing. Last night it was the purple unicorns; this morning it was jumping in a puddle. Well, a pothole Which might actually be worse. But she didn’t look quite as graceful as she hoped she would when she marched off. The wet and now muddy soles of her boots gave scant grip on the surface of the lane and her feet were slipping and sliding as she walked.
She heard the loud splash and glanced back over her shoulder to see Jasper standing in the centre of the pothole, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
She tutted and swiftly turned away, but in her haste, she tripped on a lump of grassy mud that had fallen from the verge. She might have fallen had he not dashed forward and grabbed her arm to steady her.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, still holding her arm.
In a flash of recognition, Lara realised that he was the man she had run into last night in the hospital car park. And yet she hadn’t realised that when he had visited her at her cottage.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, noticing his brows inch together for a second. Was he realising the same?
‘Great,’ he replied, letting go of her arm. But this time he didn’t hurry away. ‘Where are you off to? Oh. Were you coming to ask me how Gramps is doing? I phoned the hospital first thing this morning and they said he had a good night and was eating his breakfast. So that’s fantastic news.’
‘Yes, it is. And no, I wasn’t. I was merely out for a walk to get away from the noise and dirt and dust in my cottage right now.’
He turned his head and glanced in that direction. ‘I can see a scaffold going up. Repairs to the roof?’
‘Not repairs. Replacement.’
He frowned. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure it needs replacing? Some builders are notorious for ripping wom … people off.’
