Page 25 of Sunset at Embthwaite Farm
“Maybe,” Jane allowed as she finished her tea. “He said he was going to pop round this afternoon.” She nibbled her lip. “I think he’s worried about me. Probably because when he rang this morning, I sounded ateenybit hysterical about how little Henry has been sleeping.”
“Thatmighthave caused him concern,” Anna agreed gravely, her lips twitching. She imagined Jane shrieking into the phone while some kindly seventy-year-old became alarmed—and probably felt utterly ill-equipped to deal with a mother’s rage about sleep deprivation and teething.
Jane let out a little bubble of laughter. “It might have,” she agreed, and then she laughed again, shaking her head. “Thank you, Anna. I can’t tell you how—hownormalit feels, to talk to someone like this. I think part of the problem, besides the immense sleep deprivation, of course, is that I just haven’t been able totalkto anyone here.”
Anna frowned. “What about the other mums from the toddler group and that sort of thing?”
“They’re nice enough,” Jane replied, “but they’ve all known each other since the year dot. They all grew up here, and to tell you the truth, I can’t always understand their Yorkshire accents!”
Jane gave a wry laugh of acknowledgement. “It can be hard,” she agreed. “It took me a while to find my feet here, especially when I was a young mum.”
“But you did eventually?” Jane asked hopefully.
Anna hesitated for a split second before replying, “Yes…eventually.” Maybe just in the last week, though. “It will get better,” she assured her. “Especially once Henry starts sleeping through the night!”
“By then I might have had another one,” Jane replied with a groan. “Eric grew up with a brother only a year younger than him and he wants the same closeness for ours.”
“Well, he’s not the one having the babies, so maybe he can keep his thoughts to himself,” Anna replied with smiling asperity, and Jane grinned.
“I might tell him that.”
“I hope he doesn’t hate me for it.” She had yet to see Eric, except briefly in passing, but he looked like a real bloke’s bloke, friendly in a rugby player sort of way.
“No, Eric’s lovely, really,” Jane said on a sigh. “He’s worried about me, too. I really need to get my act together.”
“You can start by nipping upstairs and having a shower,” Anna told her. “Especially if your dad might stop by. You want to be in fine fettle when he does.” And maybe she’d get to meet this paragon at long last. He was technically her landlord, after all.
With a few assurances that she’d be absolutely fine with Henry, Anna saw Jane off upstairs, and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the sound of the shower running. Five minutes under stingingly hot water could be wonderfully restorative, and she certainly hoped it was for Jane.
With Henry seeming happy enough, Anna put him back in his high chair, strapping him in and bribing him with a rusk, which he gummed cheerfully as she set about cleaning the kitchen, which was a dispiriting mess of dirty dishes, smelly laundry, and half-drunk cups of stone-cold tea. It felt good to be helping Jane, in a way, she thought, that was different from helping Harriet or Rachel.
There was no history with Jane, she realised, no strings attached to anything, no need to tiptoe or cringe or apologise endlessly. Admittedly, things had got better between her and her daughters—alotbetter—but they were not yet entirely uncomplicated.
And her bombshell today, Anna acknowledged ruefully, would complicate matters between the three of them even more. She could already guess what was going to happen when Rachel told her that Anna had admitted their father had loved another woman. Harriet would start firing questions at her, demanding answers, and probably leaping to some unfortunate conclusions. It was her daughter’s defence mechanism, a way to keep from getting hurt, and unfortunately it didn’t seem to work.
But Anna knew she’d have to deal with it sooner rather than later; perhaps she’d head back to the farm after she’d sorted Jane out. Harriet had said she would be back for supper, and Anna had a feeling Rachel wouldn’t keep the news from her, wouldn’t even want to. Yet more drama to look forward to that evening.
She’d just put a load of wash in and put away all the dishes she’d had drying on the rack when the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house had Anna pausing for a moment, only to stop completely when a few seconds later, there was a light tap on the door and a male voice called, “Jane, sweetheart?”
Ah, the dad had come at last! More curious perhaps than she had any right to be, Jane hurried to the front door and opened it.
“Jane’s just upstairs—” she began smilingly only to stop abruptly, struck dumb by the sight of the man standing on the doorstep, a Tesco bag of groceries in one hand, his blue eyes creased in concern as he took in the sight of Anna on his daughter’s doorstep. It was the man from the quiz evening.
Chapter Eleven
“Oh!” Anna exclaimed,her voice full of recognition, and then she blushed. The man might not even remember her!
“The member of the Motley Matherings who led her team to fifth-place victory with the clutch knowledge of knowing where the cruciate ligament is,” he replied with a ready smile. “In the flesh!”
Anna let out a rather wavery laugh. At least he hadn’t saidthe clearly unhinged woman who stalked me in Tesco an hour ago.Thank goodness.
“You’re responsible for that, as you very well know,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He transferred the bag to his other hand as he stuck his right one out to shake hers. “James Adams.”
“Anna Mowbray,” she replied, taking his hand. His palm was warm and dry, and his fingers squeezed hers gently, causing a thrill to go through her.Get a grip, girl.“Come in,” she said, stepping aside. “Jane’s just in the shower.”
“I’m finally putting two and two together and making a reasonable four,” James remarked as he strolled back to the kitchen, putting the bag of groceries on the table. “You’re the new tenant.”
