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His behaviour still shamed him. The memory shamed him. As it should.
‘Does she still live around here?’
‘She moved to Spain a few years ago.’ He’d offered her an allowance but she’d turned it down, so instead he’d funded the purchase of a beach bar and bought her a comfortable villa. ‘We have a good relationship now when we see each other, but I caused her a lot of anxiety when I was younger, and I’d give anything to take it back. Sometimes it feels as if those camping holidays sum up my childhood—my mother working harder than anyone should have to do to try and supply me with the basics. Although she loves me, loved me then, she was always anxious. Partly because she was so busy, so tired, and partly because she was always looking out for traces of my father in me.’
He couldn’t believe he’d revealed so much. It was hard to meet her eyes, to see the sympathy there. He’d never spoken of those days before, not even with Lily—especially not with Lily. She’d never tried to understand him, never really wanted to understand him, found the poverty of his childhood picturesque, the reality would have disgusted her. No wonder he’d preferred not to discuss his past with her. Their marriage had been based on his reliability and dependability. Lily was the one who got to be flaky, Jack the lynchpin who held them together. It was lonely, unfulfilling, but he had wanted to give the girls everything he had never had—stability, both parents in their lives—and if that meant putting his own barely articulated needs away, that was a price he had been, he was, willing to pay.
But not only did he feel that he could be honest with Rosy, he wanted to be. ‘Just the thought of setting up a tent, the smell of one, it brings it all back. Not just that day, but also the helplessness of poverty.’
He could see her pause, search for the right thing to say. ‘Look, tell me to butt out if you want and I promise not to be offended, but I do get where the girls are coming from. I can’t pretend to understand your life. Money was never an issue in my childhood, the opposite in fact, my life has been pretty luxurious. Materially, I had more than I needed or wanted. But, on the other hand, my parents were distant, not really ones for cuddles and displays of affection. I went on plenty of holidays, mostly to exclusive villas where I had no one to play with and nothing to do. I didn’t want the pool or the luxury, I wanted companionship and fun. I wanted my parents to want to spend time with me. Which is why this cottage was so special, my summers here so important. I had freedom and companionship and adventure and that meant more to me than a private jet and the fanciest hotel suite.’
‘My girls get both. The luxury holidays and my attention.’ He wasn’t over-compensating for his lack of time with money, was he? No, he made time for them, he always had.
‘I know they do. But they’re still of an age where camping seems like an adventure not a budget option. So why not banish some of those demons and take the girls camping? It might be cathartic. Besides, things have moved on since you were a child.’ She reached over for her tablet and opened it, typing quickly. ‘What about glamping? All you need to do is turn up and everything is ready, you even get to sleep on a proper bed. Why not surprise the girls?’ She passed the tablet to him. ‘Look, this place is just a few miles away and you can choose between shepherd huts, yurts, bell tents and even treehouses.’
Jack took a moment to scan the website. Rosy was right, the campsite was a million miles away from the field of his youth, with promises of home-cooked meals delivered to your fully furnished accommodation, underfloor heating in the showers and private baths—to say nothing of the luxury interiors showcased. ‘You might be right. Look, there’s some last-minute availability this weekend. Why don’t you come along too?’
The words hung in the air as Rosy stared at him motionless, her pupils dilated. Part of Jack wanted to recall the words. Hadn’t he told himself to keep his distance from her? The girls were clearly getting attached and she would be gone soon. But on the other hand...
On the other hand, he liked her, and it had been so long since he had opened up to anyone the way he had opened up to her. And she liked him, he knew it with every nerve and sinew. He knew by the way her skin flushed the colour of her name when their eyes met, by the way her breathing quickened when he was near, by the way she said his name. Maybe it was foolhardy to invite her along, but he wanted her there—and he so seldom wanted anything other than to keep his girls safe.
And who was to say that if something flared up between them that it could go nowhere? There were still several weeks of summer left. This attraction might peter out as suddenly as it had appeared, and if not? Well, Asturia wasn’t that far away. If things progressed maybe they could find a way to work things out.
He grinned, deliberately lightening the atmosphere. ‘Honestly, even the thought of luxury camping makes me a little nervous. It would be good to have another adult along who actually wanted to be there.’
Rosy looked down at her beer and then back up. ‘I’d love to,’ she said eventually, her voice bright and impersonal. ‘And shall we invite Sally and her daughter along? As you know, Alice and Clover get along really well, it might be fun to have a group of us. The real camping experience.’
So she didn’t want to be alone with him. Maybe he’d misread the signals, or maybe a widower with two daughters was too complicated a package for her. Either way, it was fine.
‘Why not,’ he said, getting to his feet and picking up the two mugs. ‘I’d better deliver these before they get cold.’
She opened her mouth then closed it again. ‘Yes, good idea. I promised to show them how to light a fire.’
The intimacy sparked by his confidences was gone as if it had never been and that was probably a good thing. It was certainly safer. His life was complicated enough without adding in a long-distance relationship or the fallout of a failed short-term fling.
But as he followed Rosy out to the patio where the girls awaited them, a pile of logs at their feet, Jack couldn’t help wishing that this connection between them was exactly what it felt like, the start of something, and not just a glimpse of what might have been. The kind of partnership he had never dared dream of.
CHAPTER FIVE
JACKWASN’TEXACTLYconverted to camping but even he had to admit glamping was on another level.
Usually Jack enjoyed the outdoors, cooking on fires, physical exercise, the challenge of making or putting things together. It was just something about the smell of wet tents, bedrolls and sleeping bags that took him back to those nights in their small, cheap plastic tent, shifting uncomfortably on his too-thin mat, pretending to be asleep as his mother cried after a day of trying to make the best of another soggy day. For many years he’d thrown himself into every moment, pretending enthusiasm, not wanting to give her any other reason to cry until along with adolescence came the all-consuming selfishness that often accompanied that stage of life and he’d switched from pretending too much to not pretending enough.
But his girls had none of his reservations and they were more than delighted with the luxury outdoor accommodation. The spacious round bell tents they’d booked were already set up when they arrived, furnished with actual beds, the canvas floors covered with thick luxurious rugs. He’d booked a group pitch with two large tents and one smaller one. The large tents had two bedrooms, both of which easily fitted either a double bed or two large singles, complete with small bedside cabinets and a wooden rail for clothes. The front half of the tent was a large semicircle furnished with a velvet sofa, a couple of large beanbags and a low wooden table that could double as dining or coffee table. The smaller tent Rosy would sleep in didn’t have a bedroom, her double bed took up one side of the tent, a loveseat and table the other. All three tents were richly decorated in deep reds, golds and oranges.
At the back of the pitch stood a covered wooden platform that held the kitchen area complete with a sink and running hot and cold water, an oven, fridge and kettle and fully stocked cupboards holding crockery, cutlery and saucepans. Centred in front of the tents but far enough away to be safe and to ensure no smoke wafted into the sleeping areas was a sunken fire pit surrounded by sofas. Four posts sat at each corner so a cover could be pulled over to shelter the sitting area in case of rain.
‘This isnothow I remember camping,’ Sally said as their host gave them a tour. The girls had run off to explore the adventure playground with Tansy in charge. Jack was relieved to see that although as usual she took the responsibility seriously, she seemed less solemn, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement and a smile lighting up her thin face. ‘I’ve stayed in holiday cottages more spartan than this.’
‘It really is quite something,’ Rosy agreed as she scanned the information folder the host had left them with. ‘The freezer has ready meals for emergencies, and there’s a takeaway menu as well. Ooh, there’s also a proper woodfired pizza oven by the kitchen and they can supply dough and all the other ingredients. I vote for pizza tonight.’
The atmosphere between the three adults was comfortable but Jack could sense Rosy hanging back, leaving Sally and him to talk. He knew Sally a little, as was natural when they’d grown up in the same village, but as she was a few years younger they’d never socialised before. Watching Rosy step aside to leave them together, he couldn’t help but suspect that she might be trying to set the two of them up. He could see why she might think they would hit it off—after all, they were both single parents and lived in the same place, but although he liked what he knew of Sally, he didn’t feel a single atom of the attraction he felt for Rosy.
On the other hand, he could do with friends locally. Nor could he discount the fact that not only was Sally close to Clem, she was also part of the theatre campaign. Whatever Rosy’s motivations in inviting Sally along, the night away gave him a great opportunity to discuss his plans with her and see if there was any thawing in opposition. She might even be prepared to be the bridge between Jack and the theatre group.
The afternoon passed quickly and before they knew it the girls were clamouring for food. Jack was more than happy to play with the professional-looking pizza oven and after a busy day of exploring the campsite, farm and beach, Rosy, Sally and the girls made far more pizza than they could all eat while Jack experimented with cooking them until he’d perfected his technique. After dinner he built up the fire and they sat around toasting marshmallows and heating up hot chocolate using the pot provided. The adults took turns telling campfire tales, careful to keep them age appropriate whilst providing the right amount of chill for the setting. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a carefree evening, or the last time he’d laughed so much as Rosy held them all captive with a comic horror story that by turns made them gasp then giggle. She might claim not to be an actress but she knew how to speak, her voice rich and curiously intimate as if she were pitching her words at everyone individually.
By the time dusk fell all three children were drowsy, even Tansy, and the novelty of sleeping in tents meant sending them to bed was surprisingly easy. They all trooped off happily to the bathing hut with Sally to clean up and put on pyjamas. Clover had begged to sleep with Alice and so Jack kissed her before she headed into the other tent, and he settled Tansy into her bed with a torch and a book.
