Her Garden Angel - Book 4, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Thirteen

Kester-on-Sea, Norfolk, April 2010

Jack calls Rachel at home the next morning, when she is getting ready to go and see Evelyn.

“How did you get this number?” She laughs, happy to hear from him. She glances at herself in the hallway mirror; she is grinning like an idiot and her face is red and flustered.

He ignores her question with one of his own. “Any thoughts on spending the day together after you’ve been to see Evelyn?” He is smiling too; she can hear it in his voice.

“You haven’t got your own personality back yet, have you?”

“Not yet, this is why we should make the most of today!”

“I’ll have to get the number of the guy whose personality you borrowed when you leave.”

“Cheeky mare, he isn’t as good looking as me,and I’m willing to bet nowhere near as good in bed as I am.”

“Surely in your case, it’s nowhere near as good on the floor as you are?” She is glad he isn’t in front of her to see how much she is blushing. “I don’t recall making it to the bed.”

“Well you made me leave before I could implement my plans for the bed.” He laughs teasingly. “I’ll see you later, Rachel.”

They hang up and she stands smiling for a minute or two, staring at herself in the mirror and fluffing her hair. She doesn’t recognise the woman staring back at her. It has been so long since she’s smiled and felt as light and free as she does right then. She grabs her keys and heads out to see Gran.

Evelyn is vacant and spaced out when Rachel arrives. She sits in her chair, rocking back and forth and staring out at the sea. Rachel sits with her for a few hours, trying every now and then to engage Evelyn in conversation, even asking her about Tom again, but she is as silent as the grave. She doesn’t speak and she doesn’t look at her granddaughter. It is as if someone has turned off the switch inside her.

She is a shell.

Rachel leaves eventually, feeling defeated and hopeless. Her earlier happiness has been washed away, like the sand upon the shore. She can’t even face the idea of working in the garden; she just wants to get far away from bloody Seacrest.

When she arrives back at the house, Jack is sitting in his car, parked on the driveway. Rachel feels the blush rising up her face, accompanied by the butterflies she felt the night before. She is grinning when she climbs out of the car to greet him. He's the best tonic in the world, she thinks.

“I thought I’d wait here for you to get back,” he says, smiling and leaning down to drop a gentle kiss on her cheek. He holds up a bulging shopping bag. “I bought ingredients for Pina Coladas. I hoped we could sit in the garden and enjoy the weather with a cocktail or two.”

“I haven’t got round to doing the garden here, it’s a jungle of weeds, but we can sit on the decking and ignore the weeds. I definitely like the sound of Pina Coladas.” She laughs shyly.

“With my delightful company, of course,” he says, grinning.

She nudges him gently and smiles. “Yes, you’re really getting your money’s worth out of that personality transplant.”

They walk companionably into the house together. Following her through to the kitchen, Jack glances into the dining room, at the various piles of things Rachel has sorted out, but not packed away.

“I know, I should get rid of it all,” she says, when she realises what has caught his attention. “It’s so difficult though. It’s just junk, old books and bric-a-brac, but it’s her stuff. I feel bad slinging it all out, yet I can’t keep it all.”