The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,14

you?’

Faced with no other option, I grumpily followed Sam outside to sit at the table on the patio under a big cream umbrella. Despite the parched brown grass, the rest of the garden was a riot of colour, with pots of flowers lining the edges of the curved patio steps. I studied the blousy petunias spilling over the sides of the glossy blue planters.

‘I’m sorry, Jess,’ said Sam, his blue eyes sorrowful. ‘I can see you’re mad at me but I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong. Would you like me to go?’

I swallowed. ‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you might think…’ My words trailed away. If I said any more, I’d say too much.

‘I had no idea you’d be here, honestly. Richard popped around fifteen minutes ago asking if I’d help with the paving slabs and then Lynn invited me to stay for dinner.’ His mouth drooped, his eyes hooded. ‘Roast chicken was a lot more appealing than last night’s Domino’s.’

‘Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes, Sam Weaverham!’

‘Too much?’ Laughter lit his blue eyes.

‘Far too much. I bet your mum stocked the fridge to the gunnels for you while she’s away.’

His cheeks dimpled with a naughty smile. ‘You know her.’

‘No, but you give off those spoiled-rotten vibes,’ I said, trying to be snotty and failing miserably, as my face creased into a smile. ‘How long are you housesitting for?’

‘Just the weekend. They’ve gone to some fancy wedding down on the Isle of Wight, so decided to stay a day either side. They’re back tomorrow.’

‘I’ve never been to the Isle of Wight. My school always went in Year 6, but the day before we were due to go, my appendix burst.’

‘Ouch. I’ve never been either, if it’s any consolation.’ He suddenly grinned. ‘I’ll show you my scar if you show me yours.’

‘You’ve had your appendix out?’

‘Yup, two years ago, the scar’s almost invisible now.’ With that he whipped up his T-shirt and showed me his very tanned stomach, with dark-blond hair disappearing below his shorts. Jeez Louise, was the man trying to kill me?

I had an instant hot flush, and my pulse went into overdrive as he traced the tiny silvery scar with his index finger.

‘They glued it together,’ he said. ‘It’s amazing. In the olden days we’d probably have died.’

‘That’s a cheery thought,’ I said, taking a cooling swig of Prosecco and holding the glass to my cheek. There was no way I was showing off my equally neat scar, although a little bit of me had fallen even more for his total lack of self-consciousness.

And we were off, the conversation running free as we discussed childhood ailments and competed for the most broken bones. He won; he’d broken three ribs in one go during an unfortunate incident with a cricket bat.

‘So, are you enjoying this weather?’ asked Sam after a comfortable lull in the conversation. He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, his tanned limbs sprawling comfortably as the sunlight danced over the reddish blonde hairs dusting his arms and legs. He looked like a sun god. ‘Or are you getting fed up with it?’

‘I love it. I just wish I had a garden to enjoy it. I’m lucky I do have a teeny tiny balcony that I can sit on, but it gets the sun in the morning rather than the evening.’

‘Nice for breakfast,’ he said with a nod.

I sniggered. ‘In my head, when I first bought the place, I planned to sit there eating healthy yoghurt, sprinkled with fresh strawberries and nuts.’

‘And?’ Sam’s eyebrows lifted in amused anticipation.

‘I’m usually rushing around with a bowl of Weetabix, trying to find my car keys and pull on my only pair of hole-free tights, which I had to wash the night before and which have been drying on the boiler all night … and that’s way too much information, but you get the picture.’

‘Sounds like real life to me. I’m a toast-in-the-car man, with my coffee in the cup holder and more toast when I get to work. And then toast at breaktime with the kids.’

‘A lot of toast,’ I observed, swatting at a wasp that was getting a bit too close to my wine glass. The pesky thing – the first of the season – was sluggish and stupid and was now dancing around the rim of the glass. I stood up to bat it away again and managed to knock over Sam’s beer. As we both lunged for