Page 62 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
I’ve been so busy listening to Julian’s woes that I haven’t noticed Jack has made an appearance in the pub this evening. As I stare back at him I’m in no doubt that he has definitely noticed that I’m here, and also that I’m not alone.
Twenty-one
Jack very deliberately turns away from me in his chair and takes up conversation with the person next to him, who happens to be PC Woods or ‘Woody’ as he’s known to everybody, our local policeman.
Oh god, had Jack seen Julian’s hand over mine? Of course he had. That’s why he stared at me like that.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong though. I was simply talking to a … well, I’d have to call Julian a friend now, I suppose. That was definitely something I hadn’t expected to call him before tonight, but he’d turned out to be nowhere near as awful as I’d originally thought him to be, and anyway, it wasn’t like Jack and I were a couple or anything, was it?
As I, slightly less enthusiastically, tuck into the rest of my dinner while Julian does the same, I can’t help but worry what Jack must be thinking of me.
‘Are you all right?’ Julian asks, when I’ve been lost in my thoughts for a while. ‘Is your meal not to your liking?’
‘Oh, no, it’s perfectly fine. How is yours?’
‘Best steak and kidney pie I’ve had in years.’ He puts down his knife and fork on his empty plate, while I glance over his shoulder again at Jack. He’s talking to Amber who’s joined him as well now – Woody’s fiancée.
Julian turns around to see who’s capturing my attention. ‘Someone you know?’
‘No one special. Everyone knows each other here – it’s like that.’
‘Yet again this place reminds me of my grandmother’s. Everyone knew each other down her street too. I’m liking it more by the minute. I’ve been to St Felix a number of times, Kate, but this is the first time I’ve felt any affinity to it at all. This is due to your influence, I feel.’
‘Where was she from, your grandmother?’ I ask, eager to move the subject away from me. Julian had already made his feelings pretty clear and I didn’t want to encourage him.
‘Liverpool – a Scouser through and through.’
‘Gosh, when you talked about her before I didn’t imagine you were staying in a city as a child. I thought it was the countryside you were talking about.’
‘You imagined a fancy country house somewhere, no doubt? An idyllic childhood spent running through sun-kissed fields of straw – ’fraid not. This privately educated young boy had to stay in inner-city Liverpool when he was on his school holidays, in a two-up two-down terraced house. You can imagine the ribbing I got from the other children in the street when they heard my accent.’
Everything about Julian was becoming more understandable now I knew more about him.
‘The way you are,’ I suddenly say, ‘that’s all a front, isn’t it?’
Julian stares at me. ‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean your demeanour. You’ve developed that over the years more as a coping mechanism rather than show anyone your real personality. You’re not actually pompous and full of yourself at all. You’re much nicer than that.’
Julian appears shocked at first that I dare to describe him this way. Then when I say he’s nicer than he seems his head drops and he shakes it disbelievingly. ‘Were you some sort of psychologist before you came to St Felix, Kate?’ he says, looking up at me again in total wonder. ‘You’re far too perceptive about people to simply run a shop.’
‘Hardly. I think I’m good at seeing the person behind the mask, that’s all.’ I glance towards Jack again, but I can’t see him now. ‘And most of what people see of Julian Jamesisa mask, isn’t it? You keep the real you hidden.’
‘Wasted in a craft shop,’ Julian says, deliberately deflecting my observation. ‘Totally wasted.’
‘Kate is never wasted,’ I hear Jack say, and I turn around to find him about to pass our table. He must have been to the disabled toilet behind us. ‘Not in my experience anyway.’ He raises his eyebrows at me. ‘She barely drinks.’
‘Jack …’ I say, finding myself extremely surprised yet pleased to see him.
‘Jack Edwards,’ Jack offers, holding out his hand to Julian. ‘Good to meet you.’
Julian shakes his outstretched hand. ‘Julian James. The pleasure is mine!’
Jack looks expectantly at me, waiting for an explanation. I’m about to tell him that Julian is the son of Winston James and connected to the exhibition, but then I realise I will be doing what everyone else does to Julian – introducing him via his father – so instead I say: ‘Julian is a friend of mine. He’s … visiting St Felix.’
‘Very nice,’ Jack says in an overly friendly tone. ‘And will you be staying long?’
Julian’s gaze pauses on me. ‘Possibly longer than I first thought …’
