Second Time Around Part 12

'You and Lucy?'

'And Oren.'

Donna let out air noisily through her mouth 'Okay, tell me all about it.'

Jennifer told Donna everything that had transpired. 'He took the hump when I told him that my private life was none of his business and they left shortly after that. There's a sort of conceited arrogance about him that I can't stand. He comes off with biblical quotes in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation and a.s.sumes everyone else thinks the Bible is the ultimate authority he clearly thinks it is. You should see Lucy. She thinks the sun shines out of his a.r.s.e.'

Donna t.i.ttered and the Saab swerved a little towards the ditch. Quickly, she regained control of the car. 'Oh, Jennifer, you are awful!' She wiped a tear from the corner of her left eye and said, 'He's an evangelical, that's all.'

'He's a Bible thumper.'

'It's his mission in life to spread the word of G.o.d and save souls. It doesn't make him a bad person.'

'And there's something else,' said Jennifer, and she paused, unable to articulate her feeling of uneasiness about Oren.

'What?' said Donna.

'Oh, nothing,' said Jennifer, rubbing her calf. 'I was just going to be horrible about Oren again. But I think I've said enough already.'

'Well, all I can say is that lots of people I know would be over the moon if their daughter brought home a guy like Oren.'

'They're welcome to him,' said Jennifer with a dark glance at Donna who suppressed a smile. In no mood to see the funny side, Jennifer added sharply, 'You haven't met him. Look, I know he sounds like a dream come true. But I'm concerned about Lucy. He seems to ... to overshadow her. She's subdued in his company, sort of subservient. He's so zealous, I wonder if he's more interested in saving her than well, you know what.'

'He sounds entirely honourable,' said Donna but, when her mischievous grin failed to rouse a response from Jennifer, she added more soberly, 'Well you and I both know that when you're in love with someone, you're blind to their faults.'

'That's what Ben said,' said Jennifer, thinking fleetingly of her ill-fated marriage. She'd certainly gone into that with blinkers on.

'Ben Crawford?' said Donna in surprise. 'You discussed Lucy with Ben?'

'Turns out Oren and Ben went to school together,' said Jennifer, dodging the question and taking a sudden interest in a hangnail. 'I was keen to hear what Ben thought of him.'

'And?'

Jennifer related all that Ben had told her and Donna's eyebrows furrowed. 'That's quite d.a.m.ning. Do you trust Ben?'

'I'd believe him before Oren any day,' said Jennifer at which Donna raised her eyebrows. 'But when I tried to raise my concerns with Lucy she accused me of trying to break her and Oren up.'

'Well, she will take any criticism of him badly, Jennifer. It's only natural. Tell me, how'd he get on with David and Maggie?'

'I don't know what Maggie thought, but David came on the phone waxing lyrical about him. Thought he was G.o.d's gift. Intelligent, talented, G.o.dly.' Jennifer snorted, and shook her head. 'Apparently they all went to church together on Sunday morning.' She picked at a loose thread on her coat sleeve and added, unable to stop herself coming across like a petulant teenager, 'And they stayed over at David's when they were supposed to be staying at mine.'

'Ah.' Donna paused. 'I see.'

Jennifer looked over at Donna and let out a long sigh. She wound the strap of her handbag, lying in her lap, round her fingers. 'You know things between me and Lucy have never been great.'

Donna nodded in acknowledgment and waited for her to go on.

'Well, I'm worried that this Oren is going to drive a wedge between us.'

'He can only do that if you let him.'

Jennifer considered this for a moment and then said, sullenly, 'I'm not sure how I can stop him.'

'First of all you need to face the facts.' Donna tapped the middle of the steering wheel with an index finger. 'Fact one: the more you go against this chap, the more she'll cling to him.' She moved on to the middle finger of her left hand. 'Fact two: she's chosen him and if you want to continue being part of her life, you're going to have to find a way to get on with Oren, no matter what you think of him.' She paused. 'You also have to a.s.sume the worst. She could marry him. Have his kids.'

'Heaven forbid,' said Jennifer, raising her eyes to heaven. She sat for a few moments, grim-faced, staring at Donna's profile. 'I don't know how to build bridges with him. I dislike him so much.'

'Well, a good start would be to avoid discussions about religion altogether.'

'Easier said than done with Oren. I'm not sure he has any other topic of conversation,' said Jennifer drily.

'And stop listening to hearsay,' said Donna, referring to Ben's story. 'Innocent until proven guilty. Right?'

'Yes, you're right,' said Jennifer with a sigh, letting the strap go and running a hand through her hair.

Just then the mobile phone inside her handbag vibrated and she pulled it out, thinking it'd be a text from Matt. But it was from Ben. 'Come to mine on Monday night for supper?' it said. Jennifer's heartbeat quickened. This was it. Their first proper date. Or was it? She recalled his hand on her thigh, the pressure of his lips against hers. Did he want a relationship or did he just want s.e.x? Perhaps the kiss, which had meant so much to her, was just meaningless flirting to him. She frowned and shoved the phone back in her bag.

'Who was that?' said Donna, flicking on the indicator.

'Oh, it was nothing,' said Jennifer dismissively, as the car slowed and turned right into a leafy drive. She craned her neck to peer into the canopy of dripping leaves ahead. 'Are we here already?'

They retrieved the keys from reception at the castle and found the rented cottage where they were staying, a conversion in an old stone courtyard. Inside, the accommodation was compact and cosy two comfortable sofas framed an open fire in the lounge and, upstairs, there was a small, but perfectly adequate twin bedroom, and a bathroom.

In the pale wood kitchen, Jennifer rustled up a simple meal of pasta and salad while Donna found logs and kindling and got the fire going. After they'd eaten, Jennifer curled up on one sofa, and Donna sat on the other, two gla.s.ses of white wine between them on the coffee table, the fire roaring in the grate. Jennifer realised she needed this break more than she thought she would.

Donna picked up the gla.s.s of wine and took a drink. 'So, are you going to tell me what's going on between you and Ben Crawford?'

Jennifer looked up and gave Donna a weak smile. 'What?' she said quietly, embarra.s.sed by her fledgling relationship with Ben. She ought to be proud of him; she ought to be telling the world about him. But she couldn't, not when she felt the world would laugh right in her face.

Donna set down her gla.s.s and said matter-of-factly, 'Every time his name's mentioned you go all gooey-eyed. And your face goes bright red. It's a dead giveaway.' She frowned and considered Jennifer for some moments. 'Are you seeing him?'

Jennifer blushed. 'Well, I ... eh, I think so. He just texted to ask me to supper at his place on Monday night.'

Donna clapped her hands together with such a loud, unexpected noise it made Jennifer jump. 'You crafty cow!' she chuckled. 'You've been dating Ben Crawford, the hottest thing on two legs in Ballyfergus, and you never told me?'

'It only just started,' said Jennifer apologetically. 'And I was going to tell you. Honest.'

Donna shook her head in disbelief and added, in mock seriousness, 'I guess that means you won't be signing up with an online dating agency, then?'

Jennifer grinned, grateful that her friend had reacted so well, both to the news and to the fact that she had not been entirely straight with her. Donna picked up her gla.s.s, settled into her seat and said, 'Well, you'd better tell me all about it. Right from the start. And don't miss out a single thing.'

'Okay,' said Jennifer, a little shyly, holding a cushion across her stomach. She recounted everything that had transpired between her and Ben, culminating in the kiss on the bed in Hilary's.

'Oh my G.o.d,' said Donna, clutching at her chest with one hand. 'That's so romantic. Tell you what, girl, he must be really keen on you.'

'What makes you say that?'

'You practically told him to get lost, didn't you?' She thought for a moment and added, 'Either that or he likes a challenge. He could be one of these guys that likes to bed cougars. Move over Demi Moore and Madonna!'

Jennifer picked up the cushion and threw it at Donna. It hit the edge of the sofa before landing on the floor. 'I'm not a cougar. And he hasn't bedded me,' she said, suppressing a smile born of relief. Donna hadn't condemned her and Ben. Underneath that teasing was approbation.

'Yet,' said Donna and Jennifer threw another, equally poorly-aimed cushion across the room. 'What do Matt and Lucy think of you dating Ben?'

'I haven't told them,' said Jennifer, staring into the fire, conscious that her cheeks were colouring yet again. 'And I don't want to until, well, until I've a clearer idea of where this is going. It might peter out after a few dates. And with Ben being Matt's employer and all, it's a bit awkward.' She looked at Donna and wrinkled up her nose to indicate the delicacy involved. Donna nodded and Jennifer asked, 'Seriously, though, you don't think he's too young for me?'

Donna shrugged her big shoulders and opened her eyes wide. 'Absolutely not. And don't you listen to anyone who says he is.' She sighed contentedly as if she was the one with the new boyfriend and not Jennifer.

'So you think he's hot, then?' ventured Jennifer, angling for some more affirmation.

Donna set her gla.s.s down. 'Hot? He's the best looking guy in Ballyfergus, my Ken excepted of course. But looks don't matter, really, do they? What matters is that you've met someone you like and he likes you. I'm so pleased for you, Jennifer.' She paused and when she spoke again there were tears in her eyes. 'You deserve happiness, pet. And I truly hope you find it with Ben.'

When Ben opened the door to Jennifer she was stunning in a festive red skirt, black ribbed polo and high-heeled black boots. She presented a bottle of white wine along with a nervous smile and he was overcome with a desire to hold her. Wordlessly, he took the bottle out of her hand and put his hand on her hip. She seemed uncertain what to do, hesitating there in the doorway, the chilled-out sound of soulful Jack Johnson playing in the background.

'Jennifer,' he said and gently he slipped his arm around her little waist and pulled her to him. Her back arched, she raised her face to him and their lips met in a melting kiss. When they finally parted, she smiled up at him through half-closed eyelids and said, touching her lips with exploratory fingers, 'Well, that was quite a welcome. You know, I wasn't sure, after the last time, if ' She broke off and her cheeks coloured.

'What?'

'If you were serious about what you said about me. About us.'

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead and pushed the memory of what his father had said about Jennifer being too old for him out of his mind. 'Never more serious in all my life.' And she laughed too, and a beautiful smile lit up her face. Then, the tension between them broken, he took her by the hand and led her indoors. He gave her a tour of the one-bedroomed flat, which took all of five minutes, and she presented him with a housewarming gift a set of brown leather coasters.

'The place looks good,' she said, when they were back in the lounge. 'Everything works really well together. It'll look even cosier when you put up Christmas decorations.'

'I don't usually bother.'

'Well, you should! I'm going to put mine up next week.' She went over to the bookcase and ran her hand along the creased spines of the books. 'A Suitable Boy,' she said, reading the t.i.tle of a thick, white doorstop of a paperback. 'Have you read it?'

'Not yet. I'm saving that one for a long holiday. You?'

She shook her head, 'I've never gotten round to it. But I intend to. Did you read The White Tiger?'

It was his turn to shake his head. 'Aravind Adiga, isn't it?' he said, offering up the name of the author like the answer to a quiz.

'That's right,' she grinned delightedly. 'Oh, you must. I learnt so much about Indian culture, especially the cla.s.s system. I'll lend you a copy if you like.'

'I'd like that.' He held up the bottle of wine. 'Red okay?'

'Mmm.'

He pulled the cork out of the bottle. 'Thanks for helping me with the furniture. If you hadn't been with me I don't know what I would've ended up buying.'

She gave an embarra.s.sed little smile. He said, 'No really, you've a great eye.'

'I hope you think the same once you've seen the finished Carnegie's,' she said, walking behind the sofa and stroking the burgundy chenille throw that lay across its back. He handed her a gla.s.s of red. 'Thanks,' she said, took a sip, and he watched her slowly circle the room, picking things up and putting them down. 'Well, I like everything you've done so far at Carnegie's,' he said. 'The curtains are fabulous. And I love those quirky mirrors. I never would've thought of that.'

'Creates the illusion of more s.p.a.ce without losing the feeling of intimacy. I'll bring over the rest of the lamps and ornaments this week.'

'What's the latest on the tables and chairs?'

She sat down on the sofa. 'The suppliers are promising to deliver them on time.'

'Let's hope they don't let us down.'

'They'd better not,' she said, a steely undertone to her voice that he'd not heard before. She was soft and maternal in some ways and yet she was tough she had, after all, embarked on a risky start-up business while raising two kids alone.

'I admire you, you know. For setting up your own business and making a success of it. You're living your dream, aren't you?'

'I guess I am,' she smiled and then added thoughtfully, 'It wasn't always easy, though, especially when the kids were young, trying to juggle everything. But it's a lot easier now I've only myself to think of.' She paused. 'And you? Are you living your dream?'

He gave her a grim smile and said, 'Let's just say that I never planned to go into the family business,' and then, changing the subject, 'I made us a bit of supper. Nothing fancy, just ham and cheese. Shall we sit in the kitchen?'

They went through and Jennifer climbed onto a stool at the breakfast bar as he laid out the little feast. 'Eat, you must be hungry.' He pointed to a semi-soft cheese with a pinky rind. 'That's Gubbeen from County Cork and that one's Burren Gold.'

'And that's Blue Rathgore,' she chimed in, indicating the blue-veined goat's cheese. 'You've been shopping locally, I see,' she said. Blue Rathgore was made in County Antrim.

He grinned. 'I'm going to serve it in the restaurant. As well as Ballybrie, Ballyoak and c.o.o.neen from Fivemiletown Creamery in County Tyrone. I went down to sample the cheeses last week with Jason. Absolutely fantastic. But we've only the two artisan cheesemakers in Northern Ireland. I'd like to see more.'

Jennifer sipped her wine and said thoughtfully, 'For a man who never planned to go into the restaurant trade, you sound pretty enthusiastic.'

'I'm enthusiastic about food. But I'm enthusiastic about lots of things, like books and running. Doesn't mean I want to make a career out of them. And the family business isn't really about restaurants anyway. It's mainly about property and hotels and I have no interest in that whatsoever. We only have the two restaurants and, in terms of the bottom line, they contribute peanuts.'

Jennifer b.u.t.tered a slice of baguette with precision. 'So why bother with them?'

He sighed. 'My Dad encouraged me because he thought it might interest me. I wasn't doing so well in the traditional business. My father's a clever man. Every time he senses I'm losing interest he gives me a new challenge. And, on the whole, it's worked. It's just that, no matter how enthusiastically I throw myself into a new job, I never feel completely fulfilled. And that's because my heart's elsewhere.'

'So,' she said carefully, 'if you never wanted to go into the family business, what did you want to do?'

'I wanted to be a teacher,' he said, loading some Gubbeen onto a cracker. 'An English teacher. I still do.'

She looked confused. 'So go and do a teacher training course.'

He sighed, looked at her for a few long moments and said, 'It's complicated, Jennifer.'

'How so?'

He ran his hand through his hair, his elbow resting on the table and said, 'It's all to do with Ricky.'

Jennifer put down her knife and the bread and was still. 'Your brother?'

He swallowed and his heart pounded against the wall of his chest. He never talked about Ricky. Not to anyone except his mother and father. And even with them, he found it so hard. And yet there was something about Jennifer that made him want to tell her. He stared into her big brown eyes, so open and honest, and he knew he could trust her with his darkest secrets.

'I don't often talk about this,' he said and put a closed fist to his mouth, looking round the still unfamiliar room. Every year, as the anniversary of Ricky's death approached, it was the same. His mother went off to the Caribbean and his father buried himself in work. And Ben sank into a period of iron-clad grief.

'The beginning's as good a place to start as any,' she said softly.

He could not keep from her the most significant thing that had ever happened to him, an event that had changed the trajectory of his life. He nodded and took a deep breath, feeling now that he not only wanted to tell her about Ricky, but that he must.

'Ricky was older than me by three years. For as long as I can remember, probably even before I was born, he was destined to follow in our father's footsteps. He adored Dad in a way I never did and he was really interested in the business. They used to sit for hours and talk about overheads and room occupancy rates and all the rest of it. I never envied Ricky that intimacy with Dad. I was grateful for it. With Ricky carrying on the family tradition, I was free to do whatever I wanted. So, I went to uni and planned to do a teaching qualification after that.'