Tell That to My Heart Page 4

  ‘That’s very noble of you.’

  ‘Not really, there’s just lots to do.’

  ‘And what about the new girl, Honey, is she busy, too?’

  ‘Mmm. We’re all busy.’ Tread carefully, Mim, don’t expose yourself by criticising other staff; you don’t know his motives for asking. You’re in the crap already, you don’t want to get any deeper.

  ‘Ah, okay. And do you live far out of the city?’

  ‘I live in Skeltwick; it’s usually a fifty minute bus ride away – it takes in a lot of the other villages – but that seems to have at least doubled with all the roadworks.’

  ‘Ouch, that must mean you get home quite late then?’

  ‘Mmm-hmm.’ Mim nodded, wondering where the conversation was going.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t I give you a lift home tonight? Sounds like I’m heading in your direction and I’ll avoid the bus route which should shave a chunk off your journey time.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to, Aidey’s already offered—’

  ‘And is Aidey going in that direction anyway?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure…’

  ‘That’s settled it then; it makes sense that you come with me and save Aidey from having to go out of his way.’

  ‘Oh, okay, if you’re sure?’

  ‘I’m positive.’ Caspar winked at her and headed back to his office.

  What was that all about? Mim gazed after him, her libido raging into life; the effect Caspar De Verre was having on her, anyone would think he bathed in concentrated pheromones. She swallowed and took a deep breath, hoping to marshal her wayward senses that had spent the morning being bombarded by myriad emotions. Mim’s thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone on her desk.

  ‘There you go. One chai tea latte and one salted caramel muffin.’ Aidey set the brown paper bag down on Mim’s desk. ‘You can’t go all day without having anything to eat, you’ll keel over.’

  ‘Thanks, Aidey, you’re a babe; you got my favourite, how thoughtful. What do I owe you?’

  ‘Nothing at all. Just get it down you while the tea’s still warm.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive, enjoy. I think Anna-Lisa’s bringing you some more Dolly Mixtures seeing as though Honey devoured most of yours this morning. And I got these as well. I spotted them as I was heading past Bloomz and thought I’d snap them up for you seeing as though you had to chuck the last ones.’ He handed her a small bunch of her favourite pink gerberas.

  ‘Oh, Aidey, that’s so lovely, thank you.’

  ‘No worries, I just thought you needed cheering up a bit.’

  ‘Ahh, how sweet.’ Honey came into the room, the familiar sneer-like smile on her face. ‘Got the hots for Mim, have you, Aidey?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Honey. Aidey’s one of my best friends.’

  ‘That right, Aidey?’ asked Honey.

  ‘It’s spot on, we’ve known each other since school; I was in the same year as her older sister Josie; we used to hang around in the same group.’

  ‘Hmm. I’ll believe you; thousands wouldn’t.’ Honey sniggered.

  Mim felt anger rear up inside her at the girl making fun of Aidey. She gave her a pointed look, noting that Aidey had busied himself at his desk, his cheeks burning so brightly his freckles had all but disappeared.

  ‘Do you ever have anything nice to say, Honey?’ Anna-Lisa arrived in the room and glared at her.

  ‘Yes. And I wasn’t being horrible; I was just pointing out the obvious.’ She glared back.

  ‘No you weren’t, you were being bitchy and not stopping to think about other people’s feelings, as usual.’

  ‘What do you mean as usual?’

  ‘What I mean is you’re always passing snidey little comments about people – particularly Mim and Aidey – without thinking for a moment how it might make them feel.’

  Honey gave a derisory snort.

  ‘Just leave it, Anna; it’s okay,’ said Aidey.

  ‘See, he’s not bothered. And anyway, what’s with your name? Couldn’t your parents spell or something?’

  Mim glanced across at Anna-Lisa, her heart going out to her friend; after spending so many years in care, any mention of her parents was a touchy subject for Anna.

  ‘What do you mean? Not that I think you’re anyone to talk about names, Honey Blossom.’ Anger simmered just beneath the surface of Anna-Lisa’s words.

  ‘Well, they obviously can’t spell, can they. I mean, “Anna-Lisa”, what’s that all about? The name’s “Analise”; it’s German or something, and it’s not two names stuck together with a hyphen: “Anna-Lisa”. I should know, one of my cousins is called Analise.’

  ‘There are loads of names out there that have a variety of spellings actually, Honey. And it doesn’t matter how Anna’s name’s spelt, it’s how her parents wanted to spell it,’ said Aidey.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Mim. ‘Look at the name “Caspar”, you can spell it “ar” at the end, or “er”; it’s up to whoever’s choosing the name.’ As soon as she’d used Caspar as an example she wished she hadn’t. Why couldn’t she have chosen a name like Graham or Stephen, instead of drawing attention to herself?

  ‘Oh, trust you to have to bring Caspar into it,’ said Honey, wearing her trademark smirk.

  ‘Oh, why don’t you just piss off?’ Anna-Lisa muttered under her breath.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Honey.

  ‘Everything alright in here?’ Catherine peered around the door, making everyone jump.

  ‘Everything’s fine, Auntie Catherine, isn’t it, folks?’ Honey beamed a fake smile around the room which resulted in a less than enthusiastic response from her colleagues. ‘Although, I think Anna-Lisa was just saying something, weren’t you, Anna-Lisa?’

  The atmosphere in the room became even more intense. Mim held her breath, anxious for where this was going to go. She caught Aidey’s eye; he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  Anna-Lisa shook her head. ‘Nope, don’t know what gave you that impression.’

  Catherine glanced between Honey and Anna-Lisa. ‘Good, good. Now, back to work everyone, there’s lots to do today. And I hope you’re getting caught up with your tasks after this morning’s fiasco, Jemima?’

  ‘Yes, I worked through my lunch and—’

  ‘I’m not concerned about details, all I care about is that you get the work done.’ Catherine waved her hand dismissively, the stones of her ring flashing in the light, as she left the room.

  Mim was fed up of Catherine trying to humiliate her in front of other people, most of all Honey. Rude bloody bully! Why does she think it’s okay to talk to me like that? She looked across at Anna-Lisa who pulled a face and crossed her eyes. Mim felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

  5

  ‘You ready, Jemima?’ Caspar stepped into the room, his smile making her stomach perform somersaults.

  She checked the clock on the wall; it told her it was almost five o’clock. She’d been so busy, the last hour and a half had flown by and she hadn’t noticed it getting dark outside nor the Victorian style street lights flickering to life. ‘Oh, not quite; I’d lost track of time.’

  ‘No worries, I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ Mim could sense three pairs of eyes on her, one particular pair boring into her like laser beams.

  ‘What does he mean? Why does he want to know if you’re ready?’ asked Honey.

  ‘Erm, he’s heading my way, so he’s offered to drop me off at home.’ She’d been so engrossed in her work, she’d forgotten to mention anything to Aidey, and judging by the look on his face, he was thinking she was pretty rude. Oh, bugger! I seem to have mastered the act of annoying people today.

  ‘I thought Aidey was dropping you off?’ Anna-Lisa didn’t sound very happy either.

  ‘I know, but Caspar popped into the office when you were all out at lunchtime and said he was going my way anyway – and I know you’d
be going out of your way to take me home, Aidey, which didn’t seem fair once Caspar had offered. I’m sorry I forgot to say anything sooner, it slipped my mind.’

  ‘It’s okay, I totally understand.’ Despite his reassurances, Mim couldn’t help but think that Aidey looked hurt and it tugged at her conscience.

  She looked up at Anna-Lisa whose expression she couldn’t read, but somehow managed to make her feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Caspar to the rescue, eh?’ There was no mistaking Honey’s sarcastic tone.

  Oh, bugger off! ‘You’re making it sound like it’s something more than it actually is,’ said Mim. ‘As I’ve already said, he’s heading my way, Aidey would be going out of his way to drop me off, which, again, as I’ve already said, didn’t seem fair or make sense. It’s as simple as that.’ She shut her computer down, straightened her stack of notebooks and stood up. ‘Right, I’m off, see you tomorrow; and thanks again for the offer of the lift, Aidey.’

  ‘No worries, see you tomorrow.’

  ‘See ya,’ said Anna-Lisa. She was still wearing that odd expression; Mim could almost say it bordered on disapproval. She’d text her later tonight and explain the situation, hopefully that should sort things out.

  Ughh! There were so many unspoken messages swirling around the Yorkshire Portions office today, she’d be glad to get through the door and get out of the building.

  ‘So where are you parked?’ asked Mim.

  ‘Just along here, then take a left,’ said Caspar.

  ‘Ah.’

  In a moment, he’d stopped beside a grey metallic BMW Roadster. ‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’ He opened the door and took a low bow, waiting for her to get in.

  ‘Oh, wow! This is your car?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘Thank you, I’m glad you like it.’

  ‘I love it.’ Mim slipped into the deep leather seat, her eyes taking in the luxurious, state-of-the-art interior, wondering how he could afford a car like this on magazine wages.

  Once behind the wheel, Caspar nosed his way out of the carpark and eased into the growing swell of rush-hour traffic. ‘Sod this,’ he said. In a flash, he’d taken a sharp left which led to what Mim had always assumed was a dead-end. At the end of the road, he took a right and followed a rabbit warren of roads that appeared to by-pass the bulk of the nine-to-five heave of traffic. Before she knew it, they were on the dark country lanes to Skeltwick.

  As they drove along, and despite Mim being thrilled to be taken home by Caspar, she felt a faint underlying prickle of unease. She hugged her backpack to her chest like some sort of security blanket, wondering where the feeling had come from.

  She was relieved to find that conversation flowed, and was that a hint of flirtation she detected? Her heart fluttered with excitement while an annoying, nagging doubt prodded her, reminding her of her recent resolution of being done with men, especially the ones that came with a bad boy vibe. Aidey sprang into her mind – the very antithesis of a bad boy – and the indiscernible look on his face when she’d told him she wouldn’t need a lift; something told her it had hurt him a little. She felt a pang of guilt; the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, he was one of her best mates. She’d speak to him tomorrow, make sure they were okay.

  ‘Which way’s your house?’ asked Caspar when they reached Skeltwick.

  ‘Just head straight on, then take the right directly after the White Swan pub on the corner, take the second left, head up the little hill and it’s the first cottage on the right.’

  ‘A village pub, eh? How quaint; it looks charming. You’ll have to take me for a drink there some time.’ He turned and flashed her a smile, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights of the dashboard.

  ‘Definitely.’ Mim’s heart flipped. Her heartache of a couple of months ago was shoved unceremoniously out of her mind, and the niggling feeling in her gut quashed. ‘There, that’s my house, you can just stop on the road in front of it.’

  As Caspar slowed down and pulled up outside the neat, double-fronted sandstone cottage, Mim’s mind was in turmoil. What happens now? Do I invite him in for a drink or will that make me look like a desperate saddo? Or, worse, will he take it as an invitation for something else, because judging by the vibes that I’ve been getting from him, it wouldn’t surprise me if that was on his mind? She rummaged in her rucksack for her keys, her mind searching for what to say. ‘Right, thanks for dropping me off.’

  ‘Pleasure. Don’t know about you, but I could murder a coffee.’

  ‘Oh, right, yeah, would you like to come in for one; a coffee, that is?’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, what else would I come in for?’

  ‘Oh, er, a cup of tea?’ What? Tea? Why would I say something like that? Mim climbed out of the car and scurried up the short path to her front door, thankful that the street lights cast a soft glow, conveniently disguising her blushes.

  All fingers and thumbs, she went to push the key into the lock but dropped them in her haste. As she bent to pick them up, Caspar asked, ‘Do you know the relevance of the initials and date above the door here?’ She was relieved that he appeared oblivious to her clumsiness, instead his attention was on the heavy stone lintel above the doorway. He ran his fingers over the age-smoothed “JC & AC” that were neatly carved there, with the date “1745” sitting directly below them.

  ‘Um, I think it’s the date of a wedding, or something like that. My sister knows more about it; said something about seeing names fitting those initials in some ancient deeds for the property or a copy of some old will or old legal document, something like that anyway. Her husband Russ researched the history of the house and found out all sorts; he’s really into things like that.’

  ‘Wow, fascinating stuff.’

  Once inside the small hallway, she flicked the light on and, taking advantage of Caspar’s interest in the door, quickly snatched the bath towel she’d left drying on the sturdy column radiator, shoving it out of sight in the understairs cupboard.

  ‘This is very sweet,’ said Caspar. ‘I love rural Georgian architecture; the fact that it’s got all of the formal symmetry you associate with the style, while maintaining a distinctly countryside influence.’

  ‘The cottage actually belongs to my sister and brother-in-law; I’m house-sitting for them while they’re in Qatar. There’s no way I could afford to rent somewhere like this myself, never mind buy.’

  ‘Qatar? That’s a far cry from North Yorkshire. What are they doing over there?’ He followed Mim into the kitchen. ‘Oh, and this is just lovely. He glanced around at the duck-egg blue shaker kitchen, the low beamed ceiling and the quaint Yorkshire horizontal-sliding sash windows.

  ‘Er, excuse the mess; I meant to tidy up at the weekend but never quite got round to it. I’ll have to do it soon, though, before Josie – that’s my sister – Skypes me; she likes to check on the house and make sure I’m looking after it properly.’

  Caspar’s eyes swept over the detritus that littered the granite worktops, the dirty dishes piled high in the sink. His eyes alighted on a couple of dog bowls on the floor. ‘You have a dog?’

  ‘Ah, yes, well, no, well, yes; actually, he’s Josie’s but she didn’t want to take him with her – thought it wasn’t fair – so I’m looking after him, but he goes to the pet-sitter during the day when I’m at work. As a matter of fact, you can make the coffee while I go and get him; it’s just a few doors up. I’ll be two ticks.’ Mim thrust the jar of coffee into his hand and dashed out of the door before he had time to argue.

  The moments away from Caspar gave her time to regroup. Her insides were a melting-pot of emotions swirling and sloshing around; the one with the loudest voice yelling that he was hot to trot and just her type, others flagging up danger signals, warning her to keep her distance. She was sorely tempted to turn a deaf ear to the latter ones.

  Arriving at Wisteria Cottage, Mim grasped the gleaming brass door-knocker and gave the front door a resounding thud. I
t set off a round of barking from the depths of the house, the familiar deep tones of her sister’s Labrador, Herbert, making her smile.

  ‘It’s alright, calm down you two, it’ll just be your mum, Herbs. Maisie, will you stop your yapping, please?’ In a moment, light flooded the doorstep and a solid black Labrador lunged at her, closely pursued by an excitable black cocker spaniel. ‘Woah, hello, Herbs, hiya, Maisie. Hi, Carly.’

  Carly brushed a straggle of hair off her face. ‘Sorry, Mim, I couldn’t grab hold of them in time, little buggers. They’ve been extra excitable today for some reason, egging each other on and getting up to mischief in the garden.’ Carly’s elfin face, petite frame and blonde ponytail belied her thirty-six years. She was wearing her “dog walking” clothes of faded skinny jeans and an over-sized checked shirt that looked as though it belonged to her husband Owen.

  Mim looked up from stroking Herbert’s big, square head. ‘Oh, no, nothing too drastic, I hope.’

  ‘No, all harmless, quite funny actually, mostly involving running up and down the kids’ slide and digging a hole in the new flower bed.’

  ‘Digging a hole? No! Herbert, what have you been up to?’

  Herbert wagged his tail, looking pleased with himself.

  ‘Don’t worry, I spotted them just in time before any real damage could be done, but let’s just say there was mud flying everywhere for a short while. Anyway, petal, don’t just stand there on the doorstep, come on in for a coffee; the kids are round at my mum’s and Owen’s not going to be back for at least another hour, so we’ve got plenty of time for a chinwag.’

  ‘Actually, if you don’t mind, I won’t. It’s just, well, I’ve had a lift home – the traffic and roadworks are horrendous in York and I was late to work this morning, so … anyway, the person who gave me a lift is currently making coffee in my kitchen, and I’d better head back there before he wonders where I’ve got to.’ Mim did her best to sound casual, trying not to betray the fact she fancied the pants of the mystery driver.