Home Truths (9 page)

Jennifer almost choked. ‘Are you serious?' Just when she thought her mother couldn't shock her anymore, she did it again. But there was no point arguing, so she cut to the chase. ‘Why are you ringing, as if I need to ask?'

‘Well, there must be some way
we
can attend Bob's funeral. He was my only brother. I
have
to be there. How would it look if I weren't? Goodness, that's just unheard of.'

‘I'm not going against Uncle Bob's strict instructions and neither is anyone else. He didn't want you there, especially after the way you treated him — and about that, I'd like to know exactly what went on. Why did you wipe Uncle Bob all those years ago? Now he's gone you owe all of us an explanation.'

‘Oh honestly. Do you have to bring that up now? Bob's dead and no one need know,' her mother said, sounding put out and irritated.

‘Was it so terrible?' Jennifer hardly dared ask, but needed to know. ‘Was whatever he did…criminal?'

‘Good heavens no! But it should be.'

‘That's just typical of you, Mother. If it doesn't look good, make it illegal. Uncle Bob was your brother.' Annoyed, Jennifer plucked absentmindedly at a loose thread on her lace undies. ‘Well, one way or another, I'm going to find out.'

‘Bob was always an embarrassment to us. And you're not much better, always saying what you please, wearing what you please and looking like something the cat dragged in. I suppose you've gone and cut your lovely long hair too.'

‘Thank you so very much, Mother. Yes, it's so short I look like a boy and I don't have to bother with a comb or brush. I've always aspired to be just like my Uncle Bob.'

Jennifer flinched at her mother's mocking laugh. ‘You'll never be that, I can assure you.'

Their conversation was in rapid decline and Jennifer pushed her fingers into her curls and massaged her scalp. She thought she'd better put an end to it before she said something she'd regret.

‘I have to go, we'll talk later.'

‘The motel was full in Tumble Creek. We're in the next town — Parrot Rock or something…' Jennifer's mother trailed off, obviously not impressed. ‘Darling, see what you can do with us attending the funeral. Talk to Father Thomas.'

‘Bye, Mother.'

Jennifer threw her phone onto the bed and turned to pace up and down the bedroom. It didn't help much. She paused and told herself to breathe. ‘Calm,' she sighed, which helped, sort of. She yanked on a pair of Capri pants, white T-shirt and a pair of strappy sandals. She looked in the mirror to fix her hair. ‘God no,' she muttered and tried to smile, but it was more like a grimace. ‘Stop this right now. You do not look or act like your mother!' She turned and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

Sofie looked up from buttering a scone. ‘What's up? Why are your nostrils flaring?'

‘I just had Mother on the phone.'

‘Ooh,'
Claudia said. ‘Aunty Jen needs a chill pill.'

‘Aah,'
Sofie nodded. ‘I had my call last night.'

With a look they'd shared for many years, Jennifer knew she didn't have to go into any detail.

‘Don't fill me in either, I know that look,' Claudia said, wagging her finger at them.

‘Anyway.' Sofie sliced the air with a butter knife, indicating they should start afresh. ‘Wow!' she exclaimed and pointed at Jennifer's pants. ‘Did someone pour you into those?'

‘They're stretch.' Jennifer plucked her pants away from her leg and then let go. The fabric sprang back with a soft thud. ‘See?'

‘I want a pair.'

‘Yeah, Mum, get out of those hippy caftan things.' Claudia waved her arms out wide.

‘Leave me alone. They're cool on a hot day.'

‘Aunt Jennifer looks
cool
.'

Sofie pulled a face. ‘Let's get back to Jen telling us all about last night — sleep well?'

‘Yes, once the police and Calum left, I slept like a log.'

‘Whoa, Jen — police!' Sofie's worried eyes grew large. ‘What happened? Why were the police here? And who's Calum?'

Jennifer spent some time explaining what had happened to her earlier, including the burning toaster, fireman Bruce, and the incident with the ladder. And Calum probably seeing a good deal of her arse.

‘Hectic!'
Claudia giggled. ‘Damn, I probably missed the best part of this trip.'

‘Crikey, Jen,' Sofie said, ‘I can't date a man who can string a sentence together that doesn't include the word football, cricket or cars. But you, half comatose, have a conversation with three men, then one puts you to bed! Plus a neighbourly chat with a fireman, up a ladder no less. I hope Calum did see your arse — and lots of it,' she giggled.

‘Sofie!'
Jennifer cried out horrified.

‘You'll be married within a year; I can feel it in my bones,' Sofie added.

Jennifer laughed. ‘No — and as soon as I'm back in London, Vlad's gone, so I'm definitely not getting married — to anyone. I'm going to concentrate on my restaurant.' She eyed her sister. ‘There's no room in my life, for boyfriends or marriage.'

‘Ha!' Sofie scoffed.

Jennifer let go a long, suffering sigh and changed the subject. ‘Remember the bloke who saw your undies when I was wiping your car window? That was Calum. Shit, he's probably seen mine as well now.' She rubbed her face, pushed back her hair, looked at her sister and continued. ‘His grandmother, Connie McGregor, and Shirley came by earlier with coffee and scones. I asked them about Veronica. They didn't say much; hopefully they'll introduce us.'

‘I can't wait to meet her. But when?' Sofie asked.

‘She'll probably be at the funeral or the wake,' Jennifer answered. ‘Sofe, do you want to say a few words?'

Sofie almost choked on her coffee. She coughed until her face went red. ‘No thank you,' she wheezed. ‘It's all yours. I'll be a blubbering mess.'

‘I will.' Claudia's voice was soft, but certain.

Sofie's chin dropped as she stared at her daughter.

‘Why are you looking bug-eyed at me?' Claudia asked her.

‘You hardly knew him,' Sofie said.

‘Yes I did. Every time he came down to visit, he spent time with me. We talked a lot while you were busy fighting with Dad. So can I?'

‘Sure you can. Want to write something down?' Jennifer asked.

‘No, that's okay. I already have something written.'

‘Good for you,' Jennifer said. She reached across the table to hug her niece. She had considered writing down a few words herself, but decided against it, wanting her eulogy to sound natural and not as if she were reading from a script. ‘Got any ideas about the flowers?'

‘He loved purple irises,' Sofie whispered, eyes welling.

‘Yes, he did.' Jennifer patted her sister's hand. ‘I'll go get some. Before I forget, don't use any electricity. Don't plug anything into the power points unless you want to risk getting fried or meeting the fire brigade. With all that noise you can expect the rest of the town will arrive with cameras.'

‘I might give that a try,' Sofie giggled.

Jennifer left them eating scones and meandered through the house. She tried to get a feel for the connection her uncle had had as the local pharmacist in this small town. Downstairs in the large, empty shop, a few odds and ends remained on dusty shelves. Jennifer touched them with her fingertips: a packet of bobby pins, packets of grey hairnets, a small box of deteriorated rubber teats and a tube of Golden Eye ointment. Was this all that remained of a person's working life? She shook her head. Surely not. Memories were a wonderful thing. But right now she needed to do something positive for Uncle Bob. She called up the stairs. ‘Sofie, I'm going out for the flowers now.'

Sofie popped her head over the banister. ‘Take your sunnies and a hat or you'll fry out there.'

‘If a man called Calum turns up, I'll be back in a few minutes.'

‘Sure, I'll entertain him,' Sofie winked.

‘Go have another scone.' Jennifer, waving a dismissive hand, headed for the front door. She grabbed the old brass bolt, metal scraping on metal as it slid across, and pulled the heavy door open. The heat outside was like a baker's oven as she stepped out backwards and pulled the door shut behind her.

To her surprise, she collided with a solid mass of muscle.

* * *

Calum had no time to step out of the way before Jennifer's back collided with his chest. ‘Whoa. Sorry, Jen.' Instinctively, Calum's arms encircled her waist. His hands found warm bare skin. A rush of heat surged through him. Man, she was silky soft. She could collide, fall, stumble into him any time she wanted.

Jennifer gasped, and he felt her stomach draw in. She wriggled her hips. He wasn't sure why she did that, but fuck that was nice too.

He took a deep breath. ‘You good…steady?' he asked, not letting go of her soft curves. She looked at him over her shoulder and his hazel eyes settled on her brilliant green ones.

‘Erm…yes thank you.' Her husky voice, the lilt of her London accent, shot straight to his gut and made him smile.

She squirmed just a little. He really should get his hands off her. Reluctantly, he let go.

‘You okay?' he asked, intending to look at her feet, but his eyes stopped at her snug-fitting pants curving over her peachy bum and the bare, creamy sway of her back.

Jennifer self-consciously straightened her top, which wouldn't meet the pants. ‘Sorry, my fault.'

Calum's heart hammered so hard he felt his body vibrate. She looked amazing in cut-off pants that sat just below her navel.
Damn nice navel
. He wanted to take his time and just gaze, but steadfastly brought his eyes up and fixed them on her pale face and those amazing eyes squinting against the bright sunlight. Her crown of dark curls ruffled in the hot, dry breeze.

Vulnerable or self-confident? He decided both applied to Jennifer. Calum suddenly realised that he was still holding her arm, and stroking her skin with his thumb. He thought he'd better stop before she slapped him.

Jennifer tugged at her hair.

Self-conscious with him? Yes, just a little. He felt a deeper smile coming on.

‘No, my fault.' His voice broke. Christ, he sounded like a sick bull. ‘I should've been more careful.'

‘Oh no, it was me. I wasn't watching. Did I tread on your toes?' she asked, looking down at his feet.

His eyes followed her gaze. He knew she was waiting for his answer, but the words wouldn't come right now. He was enjoying the sight of her slender legs, right down to her dainty toes lacquered in some pearly colour. Her perfect feet looked tantalising in a pair of strappy sandals. His gaze drifted up her legs to her midriff.
I want to kiss her navel. Christ, forget her navel — I want to kiss her mouth — for a very long time.

‘No.' He finally managed a word. ‘Steel-capped boots.' He tapped a foot on the pavement. ‘Work safety.' He caught her eyes with his and smiled. ‘How're you this morning? Hope we didn't keep you up last night?'

‘Nothing could've kept me up last night, I apologise for being such a boring hostess.'

‘Nobody felt bored.' Least of all him. ‘Blind Freddy could see you were out of it.' He'd had the urge to kiss her last night as he tucked her up on the couch. Looking at her now, he wished he had. With an effort, he hauled his brain away from her mouth, and breathed in her scent, which he hadn't a hope in hell of describing. It was intoxicating; he knew that much.

She raised her eyes to his and said, ‘Thank you, and thanks for tucking me in. Your jacket kept me warm last night. Um…come up and I'll return it.'

Jacket? She can have my jacket — she can have me
and
my jacket.

‘You can hang on to it if you like?'

‘No, I'll get it.' Jennifer opened the door and stepped inside. ‘Every time I come in from outside, I'm amazed how cool these old, solid brick buildings are. Come on through and meet my sister and niece.'

‘Thanks, but I'm covered in crap, been working in the roof cavity at the pub. How are the power points?'

‘Well…' She stopped and turned to face him; she looked as guilty as sin…and cute. ‘Without thinking I used one in the bathroom and it blew up. I think it killed my hairdryer.'

‘I'll disconnect all the power points, you don't want the fire brigade running over here every time you plug something in. Though I'm sure the boys wouldn't mind a bit, you're quite a hit with them.' Calum tried to keep the humour out of his voice but it wasn't easy. ‘The paper should be an interesting read on Tuesday.' His eyes focused on her bottom, admiring the rhythmic way her cheeks moved in the tight hipster pants as she made her way up the stairs. ‘The boys at the fire station want to know if you've got lingerie to match those fluffy pink things you had on your feet.'
Fuck,
I
want to know.

Jennifer stopped, hand on the rail. One foot poised on the next tread up, she looked down over her shoulder. Her unconscious pose reminded him of a Hollywood glamour girl, but one that was trying not to smile.

‘I'm sure you got an eyeful.' He didn't respond, but couldn't help his mouth from twitching, which gave him away. ‘Yeah,' she nodded, with a look that said she'd caught him out. ‘And you can tell Bruce and your firemen friends the perky, pink slip-ons aren't mine, nor are they my style.'

Was that a purr in her voice, or simply something he wanted to hear?

‘Pity,' Calum mumbled under his breath.

‘What was that?' In a flash, Jennifer's sultry Hollywood pin-up pose evaporated.

It didn't matter. He loved what she did. ‘Pity about the shoes, they looked good.'

She stopped at on the landing. ‘Did you leave when I asked you to?'