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“Is there any pudding?” she said.
Me, he thought, I’m the pudding. Then shook his head slightly to dislodge the thought.
“I have more beer,” he told her.
She looked towards heaven and pursed her beautiful lips.
“Wait here,” she told him.
And then she was gone. Out of the car. Leaving him to feel alone and desperate for her to return. There was something about Davina Davenport that turned him into a lovesick teenager. He sat up straight at the thought. Not lovesick. Horny. He’d meant horny teenager. He took a long swallow of beer as a cold sweat broke out at his temples. He could not believe the L word had entered his mind. Nope. The only L word he liked since Fiona had used his heart like a door mat, wiping her feet on it on the way out of his life, was lust. He glanced in the direction Davina had taken. Lust sick. He was lustsick. That didn’t sound any better at all. He needed more beer.
Davina traipsed through the house, into the kitchen and straight to the cupboard in the corner of the room. The secret cupboard. She took out an old battered Cadbury tin, popped the lid and took a deep, satisfied breath. Her stash. She looked down at the wonderful array of handmade chocolates and sweets and felt instantly content. For a minute she wasn’t sure she wanted to share this with Jack. She’d never shared it with anyone. This was her guilty secret. When she was feeling down, or in need of a treat, she’d take out her tin, make a cup of tea and pick one or two wonderful goodies to go with it. Only one or two, mind you. Her hips couldn’t handle anymore. As though she was carrying precious cargo, she took the tin to the car. The cold air nipped at her nose the minute she set foot back outside the house. She could see her breath billow in front of her. Winter had definitely arrived in the south of England. A little ahead of schedule, but it was here.
Jack seemed to be talking to himself in the car. Davina rolled her eyes. For someone who was quick to pass judgement, he sure had a lot of issues himself. She pulled open the car door and slid into her seat, clutching the tin to her chest as she did so. Jack looked at her strangely. As though he wasn’t quite sure how to categorise her. Davina ignored him. It was just another foible of the highly demented.
“Don’t laugh,” she told him.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “At anything in particular, or just in a general don’t-be-happy way.”
“Don’t laugh at my ti
n.”
Jack looked at the tin for a minute.
“I have to tell you, Davy, as tins go, it isn’t that funny.”
Davina was beginning to question the wisdom of sharing this with him. She hadn’t even shared it with Marianne and they’d been friends since birth.
“This tin,” she told the idiot, “contains pudding. But you can’t have too much. Just enough or you’ll get sick. And you can’t tell anyone about it. And I won’t tell you where I hide it.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“You know, I was right about you the first day I saw you. You’re a few sandwiches short of a picnic, aren’t you?”
Davina frowned at him.
“That’s it. I’m taking the tin back to the house.”
She reached for the door. Jack’s hand fell heavily on her forearm.
“Okay,” he said. “Show me what’s in the tin. No more wisecracks, I promise.”
Davina wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to go back out in the cold and she really needed a sweet treat. And, although she had no idea why, she really wanted to share them with Jack.
“Fine. But this is your last chance.”
He made some sort of salute that she supposed was meant to resemble ‘Scout’s Honour’ – he’d obviously never been a scout.
“What’s in the tin? I’m dying to know. Unless it’s drugs.”
She wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. His face was blank.
“Don’t be stupid,” she told him, although she was pretty sure that was impossible for him.
Slowly, she popped the lid from the tin and the smell of sweet sugar heaven filled the car. She held the tin towards Jack.
“Two pieces,” she said. “Otherwise you get a sugar high and nothing good comes of that, trust me.”
