Page 29 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Blinking, Laura watched as he dithered on the spot for a moment, his eyes searching hers before he ran the palm of his hand over his face and turned slowly on his heels.

‘Jackson?’ Her voice was unsure. She could hear the rise and dip as she mumbled his name.

He spun around to face her again. ‘Yes?’

Clearing her throat, she indicated her scarf. ‘Thanks.’

With a quick nod, he turned and hurried back down the path.

Half walking, half running the few short steps to the porch, Laura unlocked the door and slipped inside, grateful as the darkness of the inn embraced her. Had that just happened? Had he felt it too?

Shutting the door firmly behind her, she leaned her back against it, the back of her head lying against the cool of the stained-glass window. He must have. The moment had been brief, fleeting even, but it had been there. She’d felt it, and judging by his reaction, by the speed with which he’d walked away, he had too.

She slid down to the floor, her legs outstretched on the doormat beneath her. It was wrong. So wrong. She took a deep breath and muttered her mantra. ‘He’s Richie’s best mate, a family friend. Just a friend.’

Closing her eyes, she spoke her words louder each time she said them, with the hope that the louder and more clearly she spoke them, the greater would be her conviction. ‘He’s Richie’s best mate, a family friend. Just a friend. He’s…’

Covering her eyes with her hands, she pressed. She couldn’t be having these feelings for him. It wasn’t right.

She lowered her hands and looked around. She could pick out the dark shadow of the reception desk opposite her, the banister rising behind it, the broken pieces of wood kicked to the side of the wall. It was all unfamiliar, but she could just about make out the little bits she could see in the dim moonlight fighting its way through the stained-glass window.

Letting out a loud laugh, she grinned. That was it. She was only having these so-called feelings for Jackson Scott because he was the only familiar person she knew in Meadowfield. She wasn’t lusting after him; her teenage crush wasn’t resurfacing.No, it was a feeling of familiarity. She was clinging onto him – metaphorically speaking, of course – because he was here. It wasn’t even because he was Jackson. She’d likely be feeling the same way if it had been any of Richie’s friends, or any bloke she already knew. She was just hankering after a safety net, someone familiar, and the way she’d been treated by the so-called welcoming residents of Meadowfield had only amplified these mixed-up feelings.

And Jackson hadn’t acted strangely because he was feeling the same way, because he ‘felt’ something too. No, he’d acted the way he had because he’d been confused. Because she’d been weird with him, awkward.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she reached up to the door handle behind her and pulled herself to standing. She just hoped he hadn’t guessed how she’d been feeling. Or how she thought she’d been feeling at the time. With him her only companion, her only constant in a sea of unfamiliarity, the last thing she wanted was to push him away over nothing.

15

Laura shifted her canvas bag higher on her shoulder. The carton of orange juice was still digging into her side and as much as she tried shifting around the items in her shopping bag, she couldn’t get things comfy.

She glanced back at the small grocery shop. If it wasn’t for the chilly atmosphere she’d just escaped from, she would have popped back in to ask for another bag, but if she didn’t step foot inside there again, it’d be too soon. The look Miss Cooke had given her when she’d walked in and picked up a basket would give her nightmares for weeks, and the man on the till had been no better, tapping the small screen to indicate how much she owed rather than even muttering the amount out loud to her.

She sighed. That was it. She’d had enough. From now on, she’d shop elsewhere. There was a big retail park with every shop she could need just a half-hour’s drive away and a supermarket closer than that.

Yes, she’d tried to spend her money in the local shops to support local businesses and local people, but they’d made it crystal clear they didn’t want her, so she’d take her moneysomewhere else, she’d line the pockets of the big chain stores if she had to.

She looked up as a big fat raindrop splattered on her forehead and dribbled down her nose and picked up her pace as the heavens opened, releasing a torrent of rain. Pulling her hood over her head, she looked down at her bag, the mint green canvas quickly turning a deep evergreen. If she didn’t get a move on, the bag of flour she’d bought would soon turn to a gloopy mess and the croissant she’d treated herself to, a mound of sodden dough.

As she turned the corner, a clap of thunder vibrated through the sky, shortly followed by a flash of lightning. Fantastic. More rain and more thunder, even the weather was making it obvious she wasn’t welcome. That’s all it seemed to do here – rain. She spotted the pub as the rainfall increased and the thunder rumbled around her again. She’d run in there and take shelter before venturing out again.

Yes, she’d have to face Jackson, who she’d been hoping to avoid for the day at least, but if she was honest, it would be good to see him and realise all the mixed-up feelings from last night had been just that – mixed-up. She might even be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight after seeing him and setting to rest any notion of there being anything between them, because she certainly hadn’t slept well last night.

Ha, it would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak: quieten the ridiculous feelings she was having about Jackson and provide a shelter from the storm as well.

She crossed the road, jumping over the puddle forming against the kerb before she pushed the heavy wooden door open.

It was the warmth from the open fire which hit her first; that and the dry. She reached up to yank her hood down, but then froze. She noticed the frustrated tone of Jackson’s voice before her brain deciphered the words he was speaking. The tonecaught her off guard. This was Jackson. Forever the calm one, the even keel. Not today though. She hadn’t heard him sound so angry for years, not since Mike had cheated on her and broken her heart in college and she’d caught Jackson having a go at him down the alley which ran behind the supermarket in their hometown.

‘…And you really think you’re one to preach? You moved into your place after Will was sent to live with his daughter. And you, Ron, didn’t I hear you’d…’ Jackson’s voice trailed off as Ms Taunton stood up from her bar stool.

Holding the edge of her hood, Laura peered across the pub floor. It sounded as though Jackson was in the middle of an argument, but with who? A group of five or six people were gathered around the bar, Evie Taunton to the side.

She began walking, weaving through the tables, suddenly eager for him to have someone on his side.

‘Jacks, I don’t know why you’re getting so het up about it. She’s just a newbie and the sooner she takes the hint and moves out of Pennycress Inn, the quicker things can go back to how they were.’

Pennycress Inn? She? Were they referring to her? Laura stopped short and pulled her hood lower, shielding her face and identity from them.

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