Page 29 of An Unholy Affair
‘Definitely. I have a reputation that I do not intend to tarnish.’
Jack’s hands froze in the soapy water. His dirty little secret wouldn’t just tarnish her reputation if it got out, it would destroy it.
As he finished the dishes, Eveline bustled around the kitchen, putting everything he needed on the worktop.
‘I want to make a Victoria sponge for a meeting with the Parish Council. They’re always more amenable to my radical plans if they’re eating homemade cake.’
‘Radical plans?’
‘Oh yes, haven’t you heard? I’m absolutely scandalous.’
You wanna bet?‘Really? What are you trying to get past them?’
‘I want to include vegetables in some of the town’s flower beds as a project with children from Foxbrooke Primary School. They could pick and eat them next summer when they’re grown.’
‘That’s radical?’
‘Oh yes.’ She sighed. ‘Trying to get anything done differently around here can be rather challenging.’
Of course. All the older, small-minded people like his father. People with nothing better to do with their time than ensure the world existed exactly as it did in the eighteen-fifties.
‘Eveline. I’ve been meaning to ask. Has my mother apologised for assaulting you yesterday?’
‘It wasn’t really an assault. But yes, she has. This morning before you, er, appeared.’
‘Half-naked?’
Jack had made it his job to read women’s bodies, but Eveline’s emotions were telegraphed so loudly even a child could work out the gist of what she was thinking. Her face flushed, and she turned for the door.
‘I’m just going to get my laptop so I can work here with you.’
Jack gazed at her shapely form as she departed, then hung his head and stared at the soap suds.
Don’t flirt. Don’t lead her on. Keep it in your pants.
It was one thing to tell himself that, but his dick hadn’t received the memo. It was currently behaving like an eager-to-please puppy, desperate to play.
Eveline returned with a laptop that was almost as large as a briefcase, sat at the table, and lifted the lid.
‘I’ve got an Aga, so you don’t need to preheat the oven.’ She eyed him as he measured the flour. ‘Have you done much baking before?’
‘Not for years, but I used to do a lot as a kid. Well, I did it when my dad was out of the house. He didn’t approve of boys baking.’
There were lots of things his father didn’t approve of him doing: crying, showing emotion, art, cooking, dancing. All were signs that Jack was veering dangerously off a masculine path.
Eveline cleared her throat. ‘Estelle told me Nigel was physically abusive to you.’
He stilled. Hot anger scratched at the inside of his skin. He never got the chance to fight back, to tell his father to his face just what he thought of him.
‘I’m not saying that to start a conversation about it,’ she continued. ‘I know how painful it can be to talk about difficult memories and experiences. It just felt disingenuous not to mention that Estelle had told me.’
Jack nodded, continuing to measure out ingredients.
After a few seconds of silence, he heard her tapping on the keyboard.
7
Eveline’s fingers flew across the keys, but her mind whirled faster. Her life was always busy, but even when things weren’t going her way, she generally had a handle on the situation. Now, her thoughts were scattered like snow in a globe and she was waiting for everything to settle.
