When we got closer to the actual town Jack helped me off the hose (I waited for two cars to pass so that no one would see me, but I got off without any sort of spectacular embarrassment) and tied the reins up to a post on a nearby fence. It was interesting how we were so close to the city, and yet still far enough away that attaching your horse to a fence while you went in to get lunch was a totally normal thing.
Making our way down the sleepy streets of the quaint English town, Jack and I eventually found ourselves in a little café, one of those sleepy places with a dozen tables that feels like it’s been there for decades.
“So, why are you being so nice to me?” I asked when we sat down. I wanted answers.
“I figured I owed you after you covered for me with the cops. You were right. I could have gotten in a lot more trouble than just with the law for a little while. Oliver’s dad is fuming apparently that the cops haven’t arrested me. Luckily, they know what Oliver’s reputation is, so I don’t think they especially care about arresting someone.”
“Who is Oliver’s dad anyway? He kept telling me that I didn’t want to mess with someone like him. So many people here have a pedigree longer than most dog show winners, I can’t keep track of who is baron of what and who’s the duke of where.”
“Oliver’s dad is in the House of Lords. One of the inherited seats. I can’t remember which one. Apparently Oliver thinks this makes all women available to him, whether or not they say yes.”
“A friend of mine had heard rumours of the sort. She told me when I turned him down.”
“Yeah, they’re probably all true. Give him long enough and he’ll be a rapist, if he isn’t already.”
“So how do you know all this?”
“I make it my business to know things. When you get in as much trouble as I do, it comes in handy to have dirt on people.”
“So why come and save me, anyway?”
Jack shrugged. “Is it enough to believe I’m a decent human being?”
“No. Because you’re not. And don’t act offended, you make damn sure everyone knows you’re not.”
I got a sly smile out of Jack for that remark.
“You can keep trying to figure me out. It won’t work.”
We stared at each other, neither one of us wanting to be the one to break eye contact. It was a battle of the wills, a battle I certainly didn’t know the meaning to, but something kept me in it. An unspoken connection passed between us. I could feel my blood beginning to heat up as things intensified. I really, really wish I knew why he still had this effect on me.
Suddenly, the moment was broken by the waitress who had come over from the other side of the counter.
“Are you ready to order yet?” she asked. Like a candle that had just been extinguished, the spark passing between us disappeared, nothing more than a wisp of smoke that vanished in an instant.
“Surprise me,” Jack told her, handing her the menu. I scanned it quickly.
“I’ll have the house chilli, with a baked potato on the side,” I told her, handing her the menu. “And a diet coke.”
“Will do, won’t be long.”
“So how’s your mom doing?” Jack asked, changing the subject.
“She’s fine. She’s revelling in the attention now. She’s always been a hypochondriac – but don’t ever tell her I told you that. When she was in the hospital she was pretty panicked, apparently. I guess she wasn’t used to something actually being wrong with her. But now she’s milking it for all its worth, I overheard her telling the cook all about diabetic specific recipes the other day.”
“I guess that’s good, in a way.”
“Yeah, it is good. It means she’s back to normal. Are you going to come to the wedding?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s going to bring back some… memories.”
I could tell from the way his eyes clouded over that I’d touched a nerve. I remembered his mother had passed away, and I suddenly felt bad for bringing it up.
“So what is it that you do in that secret life of yours?” I asked, completely changing the subject.
“Like I’d tell you, sis,” he replied, as the waitress came by with our food. Jack ended up with a BLT and fries, and my baked potato was the size of a small baby.
“Wow, I did not know potatoes came in this size,” I muttered as I stared at the giant pile of carbs sitting in front of me.
“They must be from Yorkshire,” Jack told me with a laugh. “Up north the potatoes are the size of watermelons.”
“No kidding,” I added, cutting a quarter of the potato and putting it in my chilli.
We ate our food in silence, then when we were finished Jack paid the check and we left. Our horses were still on the posts, and this time I managed to get up onto Perdita without needing Jack’s help.
We trotted back to the stables, and half an hour later Jack was putting the horses away.
“Thanks for today, Jack,” I told him. “But I’m still not sure about why you’re being so nice to me.”