Page 25 of Once Upon a Thyme
Now we were face to face I could see the accumulated lines of worry that crowded his eyes and pleated his mouth. Zeb had one of those faces that showed every emotion but indirectly, belated smiles preceded by a brightening of his eyes and frowns that came after everything else had drawn together. This all occurred to me in a rush, as though I were seeing him for the first time and it made me soften towards him a little.
‘Did she say why?’
Seemingly encouraged by my not losing my temper at him, Zeb leaned in a little closer. ‘No. She didn’t. But I’d like a look at the paperwork for when you bought her out of Drycott, if you’ve got it. There’s nothing in the small print about her being able to sell, is there?’
I could feel my eyes widening, the pupils becoming solid as pebbles. ‘No! I mean, she doesn’t have any control over the farm, not any more. It’s mine, with a percentage of income going to her to help with living expenses like a small pension. It’s what was agreed at the time because I bought it for less than it would have made on the open market.’
‘Maybe she wants to increase her income then. By making sure that you are earning as much as possible.’ Zeb bit his lip. The action creased his cheeks.
‘Or maybe she just wants me to do well.’
‘There is that. But why would she want me to report to her? Why employ me to look into your marketing without telling you?’
‘Tallie!’
I pulled back from Zeb, seeing Mika approaching, his clothes liberally dusted with pollen and the flecks of seed from where he’d danced through the planting scheme.
‘Oh, hi, Mika.’ I sounded breathless as if I was surprised to see him, which was ridiculous because he’d been around all morning. ‘What’s up? Do you need something?’
Mika looked from me to Zeb, one eyebrow doing the work of a whole lot of questions, and then he smiled broadly. ‘We’ve stopped for a break. Wondered if you’d give me a tour of the garden. I’d like to know what you’ve got planted up in that shady corner – there’s a patch in my place in London, I’m having trouble getting anything to establish.’
‘Under the big oak tree?’ I asked, and then kicked myself ferociously for knowing that his London gardenhada big oak tree, and, even worse, for lettinghimknow that I knew.
‘Yeah.’ Mika brushed it off, but I’d seen a knowing flash behind those dark eyes, and mentally kicked myself a bit harder.
‘I’ll let you get on then.’ Zeb turned away but I hardly noticed him leaving because of the glory that was having Mika’s attention turned on me. I did see Zeb pause as he headed out towards the shed, and look back over his shoulder as though there was more he wanted to say. There was certainly more I wanted to say, about why my mother was still so involved in Drycott, about how she’d been born and raised here and so ofcourseshe was interested in the business; how she only wanted me to be successful and profitable because she knew it was all I was really fit to do and the failure of Drycott could see me out of work and struggling.
But that chance had gone now and been replaced with Mika, his dark hair curling around his face and highlighting those laughing eyes. He held out a hand to me. ‘Come on. While they won’t miss us.’
Feeling inelegant and trying not to flaunt my legs, which suddenly seemed to be more stubbled than they had earlier, I climbed up the metal bars of the gate and Mika took my arm to help me down. His fingers were soft on my bare skin, although I could feel a slight roughness on his fingertips, presumably from playing the viola, and his grip was firmer than was necessary just to help me down from a gate I climbed at least twice every day. It almost felt as though he was afraid I would run away if he let go.
We wandered over to the shade beds, Mika keeping his hand on my elbow. His grasp felt warm, almost possessive, and I snuck a little look at his face as we meandered along the curved gravel paths past the majestic, sour valerian. Mika wasn’t looking at me but he was still smiling. The small rising breeze lifted a few strands of his hair and played with it like a lover, rearranging it on the collar of his shirt until my fingers itched to smooth it down.
‘This is our shade spot,’ I said, somewhat breathlessly, pulling up abruptly as we reached the first of the mint beds. ‘It’s mostly mint at the front here, with foxgloves, chervil and woodruff, almost any woodland plant will thrive…’
Mika looked at my careful planting but as though his eyes weren’t seeing it. He looked different here, away from the trappings of fame and in my territory, slightly plainer, a bit less twinkly. ‘Yeah,’ he said, dreamily. ‘Yeah, very nice.’
I stopped talking. There wasn’t much point in giving him planting information when he wasn’t taking it in. My heart started to canter in my chest – had he brought me over here for some other reason than to discuss shade-loving plants? Did Iwantthere to be any other reason? This wasMika, after all, famous and the subject of numerous magazine write-ups, whose picture probably graced many a phone and iPad screen, the idol of too many fantasies. What on earth could he have to say tome?
‘It’s cool here,’ he said eventually, his fingers starting to feel a bit sweaty on my bare arm.
‘Well, yes, it’s the shade, that’s why we put…’
‘I mean this.’ He swung his other handout to take in all the bedding along this side of the garden. ‘Your place. Simon was right, it’s a great location to film.’
Ah. The alternative meaning for ‘cool’. Did anyone use that nowadays, wasn’t it horribly old fashioned? Or had it come back into fashion again when I’d been busy polishing buckets and turning compost?
‘I like it,’ I said, simply. Somewhere behind us I could hear voices, Simon and a girl, Tessa maybe, slightly raised as though in disagreement.
Mika let go of me and turned around. It seemed to me as though he deliberately avoided looking where the voices were coming from, as though he were expecting to be summoned and didn’t want to go. My heart increased its pace to an absolute gallop, but I stayed looking at the shady planting. Overhead the trees whispered and the dappled light moved with the breeze.
‘You’re cool too, Tallie.’ Mika had lowered his voice a little and I got a quick flick of those dark eyes. ‘We should grab some food sometime. I’d love to hear how you run this place.’
The practical part of me wanted to say that I ran this place just like anyone else ran a business: on hard work, not enough money, and desperation, but the thought that Mika…Mika… had almost asked me out on a date overrode everything else. I opened my mouth to say that this was a lovely idea, and then the mild disagreement going on behind me changed into shrieks.
‘Oh,’ said Mika, with mild interest. ‘There’s a pig in the garden.’
I whipped around now, so quickly that my dress spun a blurred print pattern round my legs. ‘Big Pig? Oh, no! How the hell…?’
