Trust Me (Trust Me, Find Me 1)

On the third day, I saw him early in the yard. He joked that if I bumped into him that afternoon he’d start thinking that I was his stalker, so he made points instead to meet me, so I could give him a hand with moving the sheep.

He’s put the heaviest sheep, the ones in lamb with twins, in the fields around the cottage. He can keep a closer eye on them there over the next month. Then, he’ll transfer them into the lambing sheds once they’re closer to their due date at the end of March.

And that’s how it’s been. Every afternoon since then, I’ve been doing farm jobs with Jac.

We don’t discuss anything profound. We don’t do much talking at all. He lets me be and understands that I need some time out. Time to breathe.

???

Jac’s offered to cook.

I was a little reluctant when Callista first mentioned it, but by the time we’ve both had a sleep and a shower, I admit to Callista that I’m glad to be getting out of the house. The place feels odd, and it’s our first evening without Mam around.

And when we arrive at the cottage, things are in full flow. Jac pulls himself away from the stove to give me a hug. In the end, I slept all afternoon, and so I haven’t seen him since Mam passed this morning.

“I needed that.”

Jac seems to sense the rawness I’m feeling, and doesn’t mention her. He’s already said it all in that long hug he’s just given me.

“Make yourself at home.”

He takes our coats.

“Mi casa es su casa.”

I clock the look Callista throws him.

The cottage. The farm. Perhaps, Jac hasn’t worked it out yet, but it’s all mine now.

That’s quite a lot for me to take in too.

What on earth am I going to do with it?

Callista reads my mind.

“So, what next?”

I give her a blank look.

“After the funeral, I’ll need to sort out my flat in London. Clear out all the new life-forms that are growing in my fridge.”

“Did you write back to your employer?”

An email had come through setting a date for a disciplinary hearing, and I’d agonised about what to do.

“You know my thoughts on that. You absolutely have to fight it. It’s nothing less than sexual politics in the workplace. Why should, this Seb, get away with it? He’s used his power, and you’re rolling over.”

But, I’ve no appetite for a fight. I don't tell Callista that I’ve already made my mind up. I'm going to resign quietly and walk away.

The bigger question for me, is whether I’m going to try and get another job in London, or stay here in Wales?

I haven’t made up my mind yet.

It’s too much.

All I can face right now are small steps.

Resign.

Sort my flat.

Jac has made us a vegetable lasagne, and the kitchen is filled with the mouth-watering smell of the focaccia loaf smothered in garlic butter, that’s finishing off in the oven.

My stomach is growling.

Sion makes an appearance and gets everyone drinks. It’s a bit of a squash, but it feels cosy as the four of us sit down to eat in the tiny kitchen.

“Good effort, Jac. This is delicious,” Callista declares, eating another piece of his homemade Italian bread.

“Sion’s made the pudding.”

“Don’t get excited, it’s only a crumble.”

“You’re like a married couple,” Cal jokes, and Jac gives her a look that makes everyone laugh.

“It’s true,” she chuckles, “I always wanted a gay son.”

Jac shakes his head.

“As you kept telling me. All through my teens. It was very confusing.”

“You staying for a while?” I ask Sion, as he finishes the last of his lasagne.

“Yes, until my next job comes up.”

“What’ve you been up to?” Callista pursues.

“Mainly kayaking and some hill-walking. Spent a night camping in Snowdonia.”

“Camping? In February?”

“Yeah. It’s a little cold at night, I‘m not gonna lie, but I was climbing in an old quarry up there. Something to do between jobs.”

“I hear you’re pretty handy around the place?” I fish. “Any good with a screwdriver and a paintbrush?”

“Why?”

“I could use some help in the farmhouse. I’ll pay you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Sounds good.”

Draining the final drops of his red wine, Sion makes his excuses to leave.

“You sure it’s your emails you’re checking out in The Cross Keys?” Jac teases.

I ask him with my eyes, and he mouths the name ‘Claire’ to me.

“I thought she liked you?”

He pulls a face at me, to tell me how stupid I am for missing something so blindingly obvious.

“I’m whacked,” Callista announces. “I’ll give you a hand to clear up, and then I’ll be off too.”

“I’ll do that,” I offer. “I’ve been asleep all afternoon. I’m good to go clubbing all night, if anyone’s up for it.”

Jac starts loading the dishwasher.

“Not sure about clubbing, but we could watch a DVD? I’ll take you both back. We can watch it at yours.”

“Yeah. Okay. Something mindless, with explosions and fast cars?”

“Deal.”

Jac drives us back to the farm.

Callista goes off to bed, while Jac and I sit down together in the living room.

It feels like old times again, as I snuggle down under a throw with Jac to watch the movie.

And somehow, as we get into the action-adventure film, I’ve found that his arm is around me, as my head has come to rest on

his shoulder. And it feels so comforting lying up against him, like we did as kids, watching the movie’s set-piece action sequences and city car chases.

“It’s strange being here without Mam.”

He squeezes my shoulder, and his breath on my head sends a disturbing thrill through me that I try desperately to squash.

But then, he sets me tingling again as I sense his mouth quietly brushing the top of my head, and it’s all I can do not to tilt my face towards his lips, like a flower to the sun.

He’s only being nice to me.

Repeating that as a mantra in my head, helps steady my pulse.

“You’re not alone, Annie. We’re all here for you.”

You were right, I tell myself. He is only comforting you.

But it’s at that moment too, that I finally admit it to myself. My teen crush isn’t over.

I’m still in love with Jac Jones.

???

“How’s my favourite bar worker this evening?”

Claire placed a perfectly poured pint of lager onto the bar.

“Who, Kevin?” Claire fired back with a quirky grin. “If you wanna know, he’s being his usual dickhead self.”

“What’s he done now?”

Pulling out the plastic bag that she’d dumped under the bar, she produced from it a tiny cutaway vest top with a beer brand across it.

“He just wants me to wear this as my uniform. He says we need to boost sales.”

“What? And does he wanna stick a couple of poles in the corner too?”

Kevin was starting to get up his nose.

“Where’s he tonight?”

“Liverpool. Probably seeing those dodgy mates of his, who were in here last week. I’m gonna tell him to stick his job. I like it here, but there’s plenty of bar work on the coast. And I’m definitely not wearing that.”

“I’ll miss you if you go.”

“I thought you were only here for the wifi?”

He took a sip of his drink.

“But, if you did wanna go out some time?”

“I don’t date customers.”

“What if I stop coming in?”

He held her gaze.

“What if you stop working here?”

“Go check your emails, Sion.”

He grinned.

She hadn’t said no.

She looked really good this evening, in her black Nirvana t-shirt and tight black jeans. She was far too cool for this place. She didn’t need that pillock harassing her.