‘You aren’t listening to me,’ Juliet shot back. ‘I haven’t met anyone else I want to be with.’
‘ Haven’t you? Haven’t you?’ There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Defiantly Juliet said, ‘Nobody who’d make me happy.’
‘But how do you know that?’ Jake was becoming more and more exasperated. ‘How can you possibly know that when you’ve never even given anyone a chance?’
‘Because I’m not stupid,’ Juliet cried, ‘because I’ve got eyes in my head, because I know a heartbreaker when I see one and I don’t want my heart broken again, plus there’s Tiff to consider— Oof, what are you doing?’
‘ Getting you out of here.’ Having flung a handful of notes down on the table and grabbed Juliet by the arm, Jake hauled her to her feet.
‘Oh, don’t go,’ protested one of the plump women at the next table. ‘It’s just getting good.’
‘So sorry.’ Jake spoke through gritted teeth as he propelled Juliet towards the door.
‘She might have wanted a pudding.’ The woman, who was squiffy, clutched the back of Jake’s shirt and tried to pull him back. ‘You can’t drag your girlfriend out of a restaurant before she’s had her pudding!’
‘She isn’t my girlfriend.’ Jake’s tone was brusque as he wrenched his shirt free. ‘You’re drunk.
And if you didn’t have so many puddings, maybe you wouldn’t be so fat.’
‘That was rude,’ Juliet gasped when he’d bundled her outside, leaving the rest of the women at the table squawking with indignation.
‘Do I look as if I care?’ Jake, his green eyes glittering with intent, pushed Juliet up against the Bath-stone wall of the restaurant and kissed her.
Properly. Thrillingly. So completely thrillingly that Juliet quite forgot to put up a fight and push him away. Her body was too busy zinging with desire.
‘I’ve waited five years for that,’ Jake murmured, his breath warm on her temple.
Juliet’s mouth was tingling. In fact all of her was tingling. She wanted to hit him, because it was all so hopeless. ‘I love you,’ said Jake.
Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘And your point is?’
‘You didn’t answer my question earlier. I said why do I go from one girl to the next, never bothering to get to know them properly or settle down?’ Jake raised her chin, forcing Juliet to look at him. ‘Do you still not see? It’s because there’s only been one girl I’ve wanted to settledown with, and she wasn’t interested in me. She turned me down.’ He paused. ‘So I did the next best thing and became her best friend instead. Well, pretended to be her best friend.’
‘You’re just saying that,’ Juliet whispered. She was right, wasn’t she? This was how Jake operated, how he seduced all the other girls in his life, by sweet-talking them into bed, telling them whatever they longed to hear. Of course she wanted to believe him, but what if all he was doing was spinning her a line?
‘I love you,’ Jake said again, ‘and I love Tiff as if he were mine. What would Oliver do if you told him we were a couple? Take the deli away from you and kick you out of the flat?’
Flummoxed, Juliet said, ‘Well ... I, um, maybe ...’
‘Fine.’ Jake shrugged. ‘No problem. Leave it with me.’
Leaning back against the wall, Juliet felt the smooth stone against her shoulders. For five long years she’d suppressed her feelings for this man and now they were refusing to stay suppressed a moment longer. Her mouth curving into an unstoppable smile, she pulled Jake back towards her until their bodies were pressed hard against each other, then cupped his face in her hands and--
‘Whoa, not so fast.’ Deftly sidestepping her, Jake tapped his watch. ‘It’s gone eight.’
‘We don’t have to be back until half past.’ Juliet smiled, feeling deliciously wanton, though what they could get up to in broad daylight in the centre of Bath in twenty minutes flat, she couldn’t imagine.
‘I want to see Tiff.’
Struck afresh by the fear that she was being a neglectful mother, Juliet said, ‘To check he’s all right?’
‘To tell him everything and get him on my side.’ Jake looked pleased with himself. ‘And to tell him that his mother has spent the last five years being a complete durr-brain.’
‘Oh well,’ said Juliet, ‘he’s seven years old. He already knows that.’
Chapter 49
The next morning Oliver phoned the unit to find out how Tiff was. Juliet took the call and reassured him that everything was fine.
‘He’s doing brilliantly.’ She paused. ‘Are you coming in to see him today?’
Oliver cleared his throat. ‘Well, er, no. As long as he’s doing well, that’s the main thing. I’ve got a lot on, as you can imagine ... um, give him my best wishes ...’
Best wishes. Poor Oliver. He did love Tiff, in his own way.
‘I’ll do that.’ Juliet nodded, doing her best to keep the smile out of her voice. ‘I’ll tell him the other thing as well, shall I?’
‘Fine, fine. Far better coming from you. I’ll bring him some presents when he’s had time to get used to the idea.’ Oliver’s hearty tone couldn’t quite disguise his awkwardness. Now that Tiff was no longer hovering at death’s door, he didn’t know how to handle the situation.
‘They’re moving him to the children’s ward this afternoon,’ said Juliet.
‘What would he like? Lego? Scalextric? How about the new Playstation?’
‘Oliver, you don’t have to do that.’ If she left it to him, he’d empty Hamley’s. ‘Tiff’s fine. He’s got everything he needs.’ He would soon, anyway. Tiff was already counting down the minutes until he could be reunited with Sophie.
Jake left Sophie, who was in a frenzy of anticipation, with Marcella. Considering it was a fairly momentous thing he was about to do, he felt surprisingly calm as he made his way up Gypsy Lane.
Approaching Dauncey House, he removed his sunglasses. It was just gone midday and Kate was at the Angel beginning her lunchtime shift. Oliver Taylor-Trent’ s car, a silver topof-the-range BMW, was parked on the gravelled driveway, looking — as it always did — as if it had just been valeted.
Tucking his sunglasses into his shirt pocket, and noticing that the flower-filled stone urns on either side of the front door needed watering, Jake rang the bell.
He heard it jangle inside the house. Finally the door opened. Oliver, back from London and wearing a grey business suit, was on the phone. When he saw Jake on the doorstep he said, ‘Right, right. Doug, I’m going to have to get back to you. OK, fine, bye.’
‘I wonder if anyone’s ever got it wrong,’ Jake said easily. Oliver frowned. ‘What?’
‘Busy executive businessman barking instructions over the phone to his assistant. They’re discussing a takeover bid for another company. The conversation ends and he says bye. But the assistant thinks his boss has just said buy, so he rushes off to do as he’s been told. Just a thought.’
Oliver said brusquely, ‘If he were my assistant he wouldn’t have the power to buy a company.’
Jake looked disappointed. ‘Not even a little one?’
‘Not even a little one.’
‘Not even a company as small as mine?’
‘What would I want with a company that supplies painted coffins? And why are we having this conversation?’ demanded Oliver. ‘Hoping to sell up, are you?’
‘No.’ Jake shook his head, smiling at the thought of Oliver stripped to the waist in the dusty workshop, painstakingly painting the whiskers of a blue Persian onto the lid of a cat-lover’s casket.