Just Like That, page 19
‘What a dick.’ Nick shakes his head, though he seems pleased that I’ve shared this with him. ‘It’s sad when people can’t see past money and success.’
‘It is. Which is why I prefer people who can.’ I smile at him and he smiles back, our eyes continuing to communicate unsaid messages, and, if I’m not mistaken, rather primal thoughts and urges. With such a charged atmosphere between us, I’m starting to wonder if I’ll to be able to hold back on getting it on with him until I’ve spoken to Craig – or even much beyond the doors of this restaurant. Did Nick not say he lived nearby? If not, that’s a pretty roomy-looking four-by-four.
Chapter 27
Despite our animalistic urges, Nick and I just about manage to contain ourselves. Instead of getting steamy in the back of his car after dinner, we share a moonlit walk around the charming North Berwick seafront, with its sandstone harbour walls, tethered sail boats bobbing in the water and sandy beaches stretching out on either side. Then we drive back to the wildlife park where he drops me off at my own car around ten p.m. Driving home with my music blaring, replaying the highlights of the evening in my head over and over, I feel completely invigorated.
Needing someone to share in my euphoria, I hit the button on the steering wheel to activate the in-car speech recognition system, and command it to ‘call Amelia’. It’s getting late, but I’ve never known my best friend to hit the sack before midnight – tonight being no exception.
‘Hi, sugar mouse, I was just thinking about you,’ she greets me after three rings. ‘What’s new?’
‘Does something have to be “new”?’ I smile to myself, knowing full well I’m about to share something not just new, but also juicy, and Amelia’s going to love it.
‘Uh, yahuh, with you it does.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Meels.’ My smugness is immediately replaced by guilt. ‘I’m really crap at keeping in touch, even more so now. I’ve just had so much—’
‘Nooo, no no no,’ she cuts me off. ‘I’m sorry, that came out all pixilated. I feel like I’ve been put through a sieve today. What I mean is I want to hear your juice, because I know there’s juice. It’s a guy, isn’t it?’
‘Might be.’ I’m suddenly all coy.
‘OK, I’m comfortable. Dish it, vixen.’
I quickly fill Amelia in on the Nick situation, including a blow-by-blow account of our date, which she laps up with relish. I’m on such a high chatting away to her, it doesn’t even occur to me to share Nick’s previous situation with his wife and what he said about not wanting anything complicated in his life in the future.
‘He sounds like a right peach cobbler. Delicious or what?!’
‘I certainly think so.’ I’m grinning from ear to ear. ‘So that’s me, how are things with you? Anyone exciting on the go?’
‘Ah, you know me. I like to explore, try out new things.’
‘By “things” you mean people?’
‘Yah, though I have heard that VR dating is going to be big in the future. For me, that’s like hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows.’
I grimace. ‘I think it sounds like pure hell, but I know you’re not one for tradition – or boundaries of any sort really.’
‘No.’ She pauses. ‘But I’ll make an exception for your wedding if you want me as bridesmaid. As long as I can have two “plus ones” if circumstances create a need for that.’
‘You can have as many “plus ones” as you want. Though I think you’re getting a little carried away. It’s only been one date.’
‘We’ll see.’ Amelia’s voice adopts a sing-song tone. ‘I can sense things, you know.’
After we hang up, I spend the rest of the journey playing back my date with Nick, and by the time I reach my flat, I’ve gotten ridiculously carried away and already imagined him proposing to me. In my silly little fantasy, he does it in Rana’s enclosure, with the adorable little bundle of fur using me as a climbing frame and me being shocked to discover the ring box hanging round her neck. This, of course, is complete head-in-the-clouds idiotic claptrap, which I hold Amelia fully responsible for, after the nonsense she was spouting about her ‘senses’ during our call.
Obviously, I need to get hold of myself. It’s far too soon (and quite possibly bonkers) to be thinking that way, and if we were to ever get to that point, Rana would be a fully grown bundle of wild bear who could rip my face off with a single swipe. Not so romantic after all.
Planting my feet firmly back in reality, tonight has shown me two things. The first being that Nick is a completely different person to who I first thought he was and I really want this to go somewhere; the second is that, because of my situation, ‘going somewhere’ is going to be tricky. Nick has been clear that he’s looking for something far less complicated than his previous marriage, which means it’s unlikely he’ll want a woman who has to focus the majority of her time on another man, even if it is her brother. He also deserves to have someone who can be as devoted to him as he will be to them as that’s what he missed out on before.
What that means is that I can’t tell him about Seth. Not yet anyway. It’s too early to show him the sacrifice he’d have to make as the partner of a carer, plus I’m not sure I’m ready to show him that side of my life yet. It’s just too fragile and vulnerable. Besides, within a few months, I’ll have a better sense of how independent Seth is or isn’t going to become. If I can keep things light between Nick and I for a while, it means that when I do share my situation with him, I may be in a freer place, and able to show him how things will continue to improve. What that means for now, however, is that I need to resist my primal urges, because once that line is crossed, we’re moving into overnighters territory, which is definitely not an option in the immediate future.
* * *
The next morning, I’m back at the wildlife park, and with the majority of the preparations done for the dating and retirement events kicking off today, I spend an hour with Serge on the Christmas market planning, before taking a stroll to see where Nick is. Of course, I should have guessed: I find him playing a game of wrestling with Rana in her enclosure, which she simply cannot get enough of. She’s so high energy and the snuffling noise she makes as she battles with him is just too adorable. It’s obviously not ‘playing’ as such, he’s encouraging her natural instincts, but it does always look such fun. She climbs all over him, and every time he successfully fights her off, she rebounds straight back over to him like a cute, fluffy bouncy ball.
‘You seem to be having to put in more effort these days now she’s getting bigger,’ I say by way of a greeting.
He looks up and grins, and I can see the sweat beading on his forehead even from where I’m standing.
‘I’m exhausted, but she’s developing brilliantly, so it’s worth it. A couple more months and she’ll need be moved to her next temporary enclosure, which is bigger. And I’ll need to start being more careful around her as she matures.’
I feel a little tug in my heart as he says this. ‘Does it not make you sad? That after having such a close relationship with her, you’ll soon have to remain at a distance?’
‘It does and it doesn’t.’ He shrugs and continues to play-wrestle with Rana as he chats away to me. ‘I’ve been doing this a long time, so I’ve seen a lot of animals off into their adulthood. Of course, I’ll miss that side of things. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of interacting with a young animal like Rana, but at the same time, her reaching that milestone means she’s healthy, I’ve done my job right and we’re keeping our conservation commitments.’
‘That’s a good way of looking at it.’
‘It is.’ He nods, then seems to lose his focus for a second, which is enough to throw off the balance in their ‘game’. ‘Ouch… dammit, she’s nicked me with her claw.’
‘Shit, Nick, are you OK?’ I rush to the enclosure entrance while he distracts Rana with some food and makes his way out to me. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I babble. ‘That was my fault. I was distracting you. How bad is it? Have you had a tetanus jab, or whatever it is you need, recently? I can call for help.’
‘Hey, chill.’ Nick grasps me gently by the shoulders to calm me. ‘This stuff happens all the time. Painful in the moment, but nothing to worry about. It’s just a scratch, see?’
He holds out his arm, which is red raw and bleeding just above the glove line. It looks like more than a scratch to me, but I don’t want to make a song and dance about something he’s clearly not concerned about.
‘OK, sure. But, for the record, I am sorry.’
‘When you fell last night and I thought it was my fault, did you not tell me I was being daft?’ He fixes me with an appraising look.
‘Uh-huh.’ I look up at him with guilty eyes.
‘Well then, enough said.’
He smiles tenderly at me then draws me into a reassuring embrace, which includes a rather delicious but salty kiss. I try not to think about that part too much. If I’m going to be in a relationship with a head keeper, I’ll have to learn to deal with a lot more than a sweaty upper lip.
* * *
Later in the morning, the very first of Monika’s senior citizens’ coffee mornings kicks off. Within minutes, the place turns from peacefully quiet into a raucous rammy, as around sixty retirees descend on the place, looking hungrier than the park’s African painted dogs. We attempt to shepherd them straight through to the main picnic area; however, we’ve overlooked one small but significant detail: the gift shop is in their line of sight, and they’re making a beeline for it in droves.
As much as the extra spend would be welcome and we should capitalise on that opportunity later, right now it’s an unscheduled diversion we don’t have time for. I quickly assign Lauren the role of gatekeeper, telling them we have time built in later and that the event is about to start.
Once we have everyone perched at the picnic tables in the covered area – because unfortunately a light shower has come on – Lauren takes the lead (this being Monika’s preference as she’s quite shy) and gives the group a big hearty welcome.
‘Good morning, everyone.’ She beams at them. ‘Welcome to East Lothian Wildlife Park. I hope you’re all well?’
‘We’re well. Shame we can’t say the same for the weather,’ one woman grumbles, and a muttering of agreement sweeps through the group.
‘Not to worry,’ says Lauren. ‘We have waterproof ponchos at the ready for anyone who needs to borrow one for the guided tour.’
‘Are you telling us that if we don’t want to do yoga, our only other option is to get soaked through?’ one particularly plummy-sounding woman asks with a tut.
‘Ach, it’s not heavy. And it’s supposed to dry up soon. Anyway, us Scots have never been put off by bit of rain, have we? If we did, we’d get nothing done.’ Lauren lets out a belly laugh, hoping to appeal to a shared sense of humour, but her joke falls flat.
There’s another ripple of dissatisfaction – louder this time – and she shoots an uncertain glance in my direction. It’s not the whole group, but it’s enough of them to ruin the morning for everyone. This is one of the reasons I’m here. I’ve had to gee up many disgruntled event attendees in my time; those who have the potential to turn a fantastically organised event into a miserable experience. Giving Lauren a signal to stall for two minutes, I scan the area, seeking inspiration, and as I do, I spot Nick hovering nearby. I flash him a quick smile, which he returns more tentatively, having clearly picked up on the atmosphere. Then an idea hits me and I dart across to him.
‘How do you fancy helping to rescue this situation?’ I clasp my hands together in a begging gesture.
‘What do you need?’ he asks. ‘Anything, just tell me.’
‘Thank you. What I need is to make it worthwhile getting a bit wet, and also…’ I lower my voice and relay my proposal to him.
Two minutes later, I re-join Lauren in front of an increasingly restless crowd. Her face is flushed with exasperation.
‘I don’t know what you’re about to do, but thank you in advance,’ she murmurs out the corner of her mouth. ‘Who’d have thought people in this country would have such an issue with a few drops of rain? Why did they even sign up if they hate the thought of getting a bit damp?’
‘People will never cease to surprise you.’ I smile at her sympathetically and turn to the group.
‘Hi, everyone. My name is Jess and I’m here with Lauren this morning to make sure you have a great experience. Now, it’s clear that some of you aren’t keen on our well-known friend, the Scottish drizzle, and that’s fine, because we’ve got something else a little bit special lined up for you. Something that wasn’t mentioned on the programme, but that will be an ongoing feature of these events.’
I glance across at Nick to check he’s not ready to murder me for saying this last part, which we haven’t actually agreed, and he nods that it’s fine.
‘Our head keeper, Nick, is going to take those of you who prefer warmer climes for an exclusive and unparalleled experience. This will be held in our magical tropical house where you’ll get a VIP tour and a front row view of feeding time, which is always a great time for photos. Perfect to share with your grandchildren, don’t you think?’
There are a few ‘oohs’ in response to this, which is a good sign.
‘Now, we can only do that for fifteen of you today,’ I continue. ‘So, if you’re happy to brave the weather, we suggest you join the outdoor tour. But if Nick’s special experience is something you’d like to do another time, we can get you booked on to another coffee morning today at a twenty-five per cent discount, and we’ll reserve a place for you on Nick’s tour then.’
This time, a more positive murmur reverberates through the group and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s worked. They’re coming around.
‘So, is everyone all right?’ I ask, and receive a collective ‘Yes’. ‘Great, then, Nick, why don’t you come over and say hello.’
Nick wanders across, giving a wave and a ‘hi, there’, and I notice some of the women most put out at the idea of getting rained on sit up attentively.
‘Put me down for the tropical house, I’m all for getting hot and bothered with Nick,’ one of them cackles and there’s a collective snicker among those who I’m now labelling the ‘troublemakers’ of the group.
‘Oh, my God, what have you gotten me into?’ Nick looks mildly terrified.
‘You don’t fancy adding in a strip show, do you?’ I giggle. ‘That’ll gain you one hell of a regular clientele.’
‘When I said I was happy to do anything, that wasn’t quite what I meant.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that. They’ll probably be quite tame once they’re up close and personal. I’ve seen this type before, you’ll be fine.’ I give him a little wink and address the group once again. ‘OK, everyone who’s doing yoga, can I ask you to head to the staged area just over on the right there. And if you want to join Nick’s session today, pop your hand up now.’
I’m relieved to see about the right number of hands, but Nick’s terror intensifies as he clocks that he’s about to spend the next hour with the women who were lusting over him only moments ago.
‘Good luck,’ I mouth to him with a cringe, and then send our guests off in their respective directions.
* * *
When the yoga session is over and the other two groups have returned from their park activities, Serge and his catering team are ready and waiting. Industrial-sized tea and coffee urns line the buffet tables alongside enormous platters of scones and various cakes and traybakes. It’s a delicious-looking spread, and to my relief, our guests seem delighted with the offerings.
They settle in clusters at tables both indoors and out, their boisterous chatting and laughing echoing in the high ceilings of the park restaurant and carried by the breeze outside. The scene reminds me more of a school trip than a pensioners’ coffee morning. Their energy is infectious and I find myself feeling invigorated by the experience.
Looking around, I spot Nick attempting to sneak off, so I dart across the restaurant and exit it at the other side to cut him off.
‘Not so fast.’ I place my hands on my hips. ‘I want to hear about your experience with our clientele. How did it go, Mr Studmuffin?’
‘How do you think it went?’ He looks highly uncomfortable.
‘Oh, Nick, was it really that bad?’ I soften my stance and my expression turns serious. ‘They were a bit frisky but I thought they’d actually behave themselves when they were with you. If they did anything that made you feel—’
‘Gotcha.’ His face breaks into an impish grin.
‘Seriously?!’ My hands return to my hips, but this time in mild outrage. ‘I thought you were about to tell me you’d been… violated.’
‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist. They were fine, just as you said they would be.’
‘You cheeky sod,’ I scoff.
‘Cheeky, but apparently also a “studmuffin”, right?’ He reaches out and takes my hand, then yanks me around the side of the restaurant and kisses me intently.
‘Nick, we can’t do this here.’ I reluctantly pull away from him. ‘The event I’m running is right there. What if someone sees us?’
‘They won’t see us, and you need a break. Let Lauren and Serge take the reins for now.’
‘Well, I guess I have been working really hard.’ I melt back into him, while manoeuvring further out of sight.
Moments later, we’re shocked back to reality by a harassed-looking Gwen stomping past on the path muttering to herself. Nick puts a finger to his lips, but keeps his other arm firmly wrapped around my waist. Standing stock still, I pray that she won’t see us, because this definitely isn’t delivering on her request of our ‘thing’ not to impact our work. My heart thudding in my chest, I watch her with panicked eyes, willing her to keep moving. Then, just as it’s starting to look like we’re out of the danger zone, Gwen must sense our presence, because she shoots around suddenly and clocks us, causing me to leap away from Nick guiltily.
