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‘You want temptation? Wait till you see the sweatshirts.’
He led her through the kitchen and into a large office, which caught the best of the early evening sun. It was decorated in the same eclectic style as the sitting room, although a large colour-coded wall planner gave a more businesslike feel. A chrome-legged, fifties-style desk with a shiny red top provided a splash of colour and the sleek computer equipment and shelving contrasted with bare brick walls and a wooden door, knotted and scarred with age. Storage boxes were stacked up against the wall, and Jamie heaved a couple of them to one side, opening them.
‘There you go. Pick whichever one you like.’
Anna sorted through the plastic-wrapped sweatshirts. The violet was nice, and she pulled a pile out, sorting through the sizes, which ran from five-to-seven years to extra-large. ‘This one will fit.’
‘You can’t take it out of the bag until you promise to play.’ A smile hovered around his lips. Anna tore the plastic, unfolding the sweatshirt and holding it up against herself.
CHAPTER NINE
ANNA WOKE IN a comfortable bed, early morning sunshine filtering through the windows. Unlike her flat in London, the house wasn’t overlooked, and she’d left the curtains open, welcoming the glimmer of a harvest moon slanting across the cream-painted walls. Waking at dawn brought the sound of birdsong and not traffic.
The quiet created a sense of peace that the ever-present sounds of the city couldn’t reproduce. She’d discovered last night that Jamie didn’t own a TV, and they’d sat by the fireside, roasting chestnuts and talking. London was his inspiration, full of the clamour of every different kind of professional and cultural stimulus, but his heart was here.
Her clothes and the new sweatshirt were folded neatly on a chair. Anna gave her T-shirt a shake, deciding that the creases from the washer/dryer would have to fall out with wear, and made for the en suite bathroom.
She found him in the kitchen, wearing a dark green Hastings Hustlers sweatshirt, the white lettering on the back beginning to crack from having been washed and worn.
‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Curled up in the bed, wearing borrowed sweatpants and a T-shirt that somehow bore his scent even though they were fresh out of the washing machine. Maybe that had been just in her dreams. There was only one thing that would have been better, and that was on the other side of the boundaries they’d set.
‘I’ve got eggs, bacon, toast... Um, coffee, bananas, peanut butter...’
‘Sounds great. Everything but the peanut butter. I’ll take the banana for later.’
He gave her a smiling nod. ‘I was rather hoping you wouldn’t go for a sliver of toast with a dash of low-calorie marmalade. Not that I have any low-calorie marmalade.’
‘You have regular marmalade, though?’
‘I have honey. The bread’s from a local bakery and the eggs and bacon are from the farm shop.’ He smiled. ‘They could probably tell you the name of the hen that laid the egg, but that’s a little too personal for my taste. I have absolutely no idea who grew the banana.’
‘Sounds delicious.’
* * *
An hour later, after a leisurely breakfast that tasted of the countryside instead of the supermarket, they were on the road. Jamie drove into the centre of Hastings, parking the car on the edge of a small park, where a line of basketball courts was currently filled with kids in Hastings Hustlers sweatshirts.
Two older boys were already practising, hotly contesting possession of the ball. There were girls and boys of all ages, and Anna wondered how that was all going to work when it came to picking teams. Jamie seemed satisfied with the turnout, though, and when he got out of the car and they walked over to the basketball courts, everyone crowded around.
‘This is Anna, everyone.’ A chorus of hellos followed and Anna gave a smile and a small wave. ‘Shall we pick teams?’
Everyone knew what to do. The two older boys were the team captains and everyone else lined up in order of size. Jamie settled an argument between two girls about who was taller than the other, and then went down the line, dividing everyone up into two teams. He produced a printed chart from his pocket, and started to note down who was playing where.
Callum appeared from the crush, taking off one of his fingerless gloves and displaying the back of his hand. A few black lines still remained and the skin looked a little red, but the letters and shapes of the tattoos could no longer be made out. Anna smiled at him.
‘That’s looking great, Callum. You’ve obviously been taking good care of it.’
‘Yeah. Can we do some more now?’
Anna laughed. ‘When the inflammation’s gone right down. We’ll book an appointment soon.’
‘Great.’ Callum turned to Jamie. ‘Shall I go with Freddie?’
‘Yep, that would be great.’ Jamie turned his attention back to the chart, while Callum sauntered over to a young boy in a wheelchair, who was sitting on one side. The two exchanged a high-five and Callum pushed the wheelchair onto the court.
‘Callum with two “l”s.’ A girl of around seventeen with orange hair and a matching sweatshirt was looking over Jamie’s shoulder.
