Page 66 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

‘I wish I hadn’t mentioned it now.’ I wandered through to the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaving them bickering. There was a slightly pointed edge to Rosie this morning, I thought. She’d been overjoyed to see me but something wasn’t quite right with her. Or, more exactly, not right with her relationship with Jason. There were definite undercurrents, things not said. And given that Jason, Mr Verbal Diarrhoea, was involved, that was something for the Guinness Book of Records.

I shook my head and tipped some Crunch Creams onto a plate. Then thought about Jason eating them all and replaced them with rich tea biscuits and a couple of soggy digestives I found in the back of the cupboard. This wasn’t my home any more. When it had been, there would never have been a chance for digestives to go soggy at the back of the cupboard.

But if this wasn’t home, then were was?

A picture rose in my mind like yeast in a warm oven. Ben’s body, which I’d originally thought of as scrawny, now revealed in all its glory as lean and perfectly muscled. The way he wore his jeans, slung low on his hips and tight across his thighs. His long, untidy hair and his relentlessly stubbled cheeks.

My hands were shaking so much that I nearly dropped the kettle and slopped boiling water all over the draining board.

‘What’s taking so long?’ Jason appeared in the doorway, preceded only slightly by the stench of formaldehyde. ‘People dyin’ of thirst in here, girl.’ I swallowed hard and tried once more to bring the kettle into conjunction with the mugs. ‘You all right?’ His hand steadied mine, but his touch just brought more memories of Ben. ‘You’re not going to run again, are you, babe?’

‘No, Jason, I’m not. I think I’m staying around, at least for a while.’

‘Well, I don’t mind tellin’ you, I’m glad to hear it. How long has it been?’

‘Last night it averaged about eight inches,’ I said just to see his face, and to my gratification Jason actually blushed.

Chapter Twenty-One

‘. . . okay, my turn. My dream, my ultimate dream, yeah?’ Rosie dragged a semi-drunken hand over her head, sending spirals of hair ricocheting off her skull. ‘And for the record Jase, I still think yours is pathetic.’

‘Hey, there’s nothin’ wrong in ownin’ an island. Plenty of time to paint.’

‘If you say so.’ Rosie adjusted the weight of Harry who was sleeping in her arms. ‘Hmmm. My ultimate dream.’ She glanced around the room and I saw her gaze come to rest on the half-finished pile of cards on the table. ‘I want to see Saskia lose all her money, and get struck ugly. Oh, and live happily ever after. That’s me, not her. Your turn, Jem.’

I pushed my seat back from the table. Rosie had cooked up one of her classic lasagnes and my stomach felt like it might be forming an independent state. Perhaps Jason would like to own it. I opened my mouth to say this and then saw the way Jason was looking at Rosie. ‘Thass your ultimate dream, is it? To see the back of Saskia?’ His voice was very gentle and I knew neither of them were interested in my ultimate fantasy. Which, I might add, I had no idea about.

Rosie nodded, bending her head to kiss her sleeping son.

‘Well,’ Jason reached out and stroked her hair. ‘Thass one dream won’t come true. Two dreams, yours and mine.’

There was such a terrible tenderness in the way he spoke that I suddenly felt like the world’s largest gooseberry. ‘I ought to go. Ben said he’d be over around tennish to give me a lift back — he’s chewing the fat with Zafe this evening. I’ll wait out at the bus stop, save him having to turn round in the lane. Thanks for dinner, Rosie.’

‘I’ll walk with you.’

‘No, it’s okay, Jase.’

But he was already grabbing a jacket and forcing his arms down the sleeves. ‘Aw, come on Jem. I still wants to hear your ultimate dream. I reckon it’s gonna be filthy.’

Rosie laughed and stood up. ‘And I’d better get this lad to bed.’

‘Thass exactly what I’m hopin’ Jem’s gonna say. Her ultimate dream, yeah?’ Jason nudged me. ‘Can’t fight it forever, girl.’ But once outside, as we moved through the twilight, he dropped the act. ‘We got problems, Jem. Big problems.’

‘I knew there was something up. Why is Rosie so off with you tonight? You haven’t made another pass, have you?’

But he didn’t rise to the humour. Instead, he stared out into the gathering dusk, more focused than I’d ever seen him when he wasn’t working. He looked even more Johnny Depp-like than usual. Still didn’t fancy him, though.

‘I’ve come to care about you and Rosie like the sisters I never had,’ he said at last.

‘You’ve got sisters, Jason, you hate them both.’

‘Yeah, that’s why I care about you two. You’re the nice sisters I never had.’ A brief smile flashed in oncoming headlights. ‘An’ I am really worried about Rosie. She’s told me some stuff — look, she had to, all right? It was eatin’ her up and you’ve got your own stuff goin’ down an’ I found her — doesn’t matter. Promised I wouldn’t tell ya, so, you know how it goes.’

‘Not really. Surely if it’s that bad—’

‘You’re keeping Ben’s secrets, aren’t you?’

‘It’s not my secret to tell.’

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