Sarah's Secret (4 page)

S
ARAH
was about to leave the office on Friday afternoon to collect Davy, when Alison Rogers rang her cellphone number.

‘Sarah, I’m in a fix. My car won’t start, and Don’s in London until tonight—’

‘No problem, I’ll pick Polly up,’ said Sarah promptly. ‘You just caught me; I’m on my way right now.’

‘You’re an angel! I’ll ring the school and let them know. See you soon—I’ll have tea and buns waiting.’

When Sarah collected them later Polly and Davina were in tearing spirits to be going home together, and full of their practice for sports day. They piled into the car, straw boaters askew, gingham dresses rumpled, both of them excited because Davy had beaten everyone in her class in the sprint.

‘But Polly came second at skipping,’ added Davy.

‘Well done, both of you!’

Polly smiled at Sarah expectantly. ‘Are you staying to tea? Mummy always bakes stuff on Friday, ready for when I come home.’

‘Please can we?’ urged Davy, hovering as Sarah stowed their belongings away.

‘Yes, but we won’t stay long. I’m sure Polly’s mummy saw quite enough of you last weekend. Now, tell me what else you two have been up to this week, besides races. How about boring stuff like sums, and so on?’

When they arrived at the Rogers house, Alison came
running out to greet them. ‘You saved my life,’ she said gratefully, after embracing her daughter. ‘Take Davy off to wash hands, Polly. Sit down, Sarah,’ she added, ‘you look tired. Hard day?’

‘No more than usual. It’s just a rush on Fridays to get off on time to drive to Roedale.’

‘Davy told me you work at home in the evenings as well.’

‘Part of the deal with my employers. It only takes up an hour or so.’ Sarah shrugged, smiling. ‘In my circumstances the arrangement’s very convenient. When Davy’s home I work after she’s gone to bed.’

‘Hard graft just the same.’ Alison put plates of cupcakes and cookies on the table, went to call the girls, then sat down to pour tea.

‘Thank you,’ said Sarah, accepting her cup. ‘I rang my grandmother before I left to tell her we’d be later today.’

‘I’ve heard a lot about Grandma. Though I thought she was your mother.’

‘No, she dotes on Davy, but she’s actually
my
grandmother.’

Davina came running in with Polly, very much at home in her friend’s house. The girls polished off several cakes and cookies, swallowed down large glasses of the milk Davy always objected to at home, then rushed out to play in the garden.

‘Peace at last,’ said Alison with satisfaction, and refilled Sarah’s cup. ‘Have another cookie to assuage my guilt.’

‘Why guilt?’ said Sarah, amused.

‘It suddenly struck me that you’ll be picking Polly up
next
week as well.’

‘I don’t mind in the least. But I’ll have that cookie. They’re delicious.’

‘With the life you lead I don’t suppose you get much time for baking,’ said Alison with sympathy.

Sarah shook her head, laughing. ‘Actually, I do. Since Davy started boarding I have a lot more time to myself, socially and otherwise. But no baking. I’m hopeless at it. Lucky for us, my grandmother’s an expert. She also makes Sunday lunch for the three of us.’ Sarah smiled. ‘But during the week I fend for myself, or go out. Something I do a lot more than I used to now Davy’s in school. Beforehand I hated the thought of parting with her, even on a weekly basis, but now she’s settled in I confess I’m rather enjoying my new freedom.’

When she was finally able to tear Davy away Sarah drove home to find a message on her machine, but she sent Davy off to find Margaret before she allowed herself to listen to it.

‘Jake, Sarah,’ said familiar tones. ‘Just reminding you about Sunday.’

As if she needed reminding! But she played the message again twice, just to listen to his voice. Like a schoolgirl with a first crush, she thought sheepishly.

Margaret came down with Davy to announce that she was going out shortly, and had taken the liberty of making the sauce for their pasta supper.

Davy’s eyes lit up. ‘With lots of tomato in it? Goody.’

‘Thank you, Grandma,’ said Sarah shortly. ‘But I could have managed.’

‘Out of a jar, no doubt,’ said Margaret, after Davy rushed off to change. ‘By the way,’ she added coldly, ‘more flowers came for you today. I put them in water in the kitchen.’

‘Who are they from?’ said Sarah, surprised.

‘I’ve no idea. The card was addressed to you.’

Sarah hurried to the kitchen to take a card from the envelope propped beside an enormous bunch of brilliantly coloured zinnias. ‘They’re from Jake Hogan,’ she told her grandmother, who had followed behind to find out.

‘Again,’ commented Margaret. ‘He obviously enjoyed the evening with you.’

‘We both did. I asked him in when he drove me home.’

‘You’ve never done that before,’ said Margaret accusingly.

‘Don’t worry. He didn’t stay long.’

‘I know. I heard him leave.’

‘Then you know exactly how long he stayed,’ said Sarah evenly.

Margaret’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t mean to be hard on you, Sarah, but you’re obviously attracted to this man, so do please be careful. Try to look at things from my point of view.’

‘Oh, I do. All the time.’ Their eyes clashed for a moment. ‘But sometimes, Grandma, try to remember that I have a point of view too.’

Davy talked non-stop through supper in the kitchen with Sarah, giving her a blow by blow account of every minute at school during the week. ‘It’s nice to be home, though,’ she said, with a heartfelt sigh.

Sarah gave her a searching look. ‘I thought you were liking school better these days.’

Davy nodded vigorously. ‘I am. But I still like being home with you best.’

Sarah gave her a hug. ‘You do your stuff in front of
the TV while I clear up, then we’ll watch a video.
Father Goose
, if you like.’

The film was one of Davy’s favourites. And, because there was no such thing as too much Cary Grant for Sarah, they both enjoyed their evening together, as usual. But Davy sighed mutinously when Sarah rewound the video tape.

‘I suppose you’ve got work to do now.’

‘Afraid so. But it’s time you were asleep anyway. It’s way past school bedtime.’

‘Which is why I prefer it at home!’

Next day Davy was up early, eager to make the most of every minute as usual, and after breakfast Sarah took her into town for the usual programme of a swim at the leisure centre pool, followed by shopping for new jeans before Davy’s invariable choice of a pizza lunch.

‘What would you like to do now?’ asked Sarah, as they left the restaurant. ‘It seems a shame to sit in a cinema on an afternoon like this. There’s a craft fair on in the park.’

‘Hot dogs and doughnuts?’ said Davy hopefully.

‘Probably. Though how you can even think about them straight after lunch beats me,’ said Sarah, laughing.

‘I’ve had a week of school dinners! Let’s go.’

As they strolled together through the town centre Sarah caught sight of their reflections in a shop window, and with regret realised that her child was growing up very fast. Davy, as usual, chattered nineteen to the dozen as they walked, her face animated in the frame of bright brown hair still damp round the edges from her swim.

‘Next year there’s a school trip to France,’ Davy said eventually, and gave Sarah a hopeful glance. ‘Will I be able to go?’

‘Of course,’ said Sarah without hesitation, though ex
tras of this kind meant a lot of creative juggling with her finances. ‘But thank you for giving me due warning.’

‘I don’t have to go,’ said Davy bravely.

‘Of course you do. I can have some peace and quiet without you.’

Davy giggled, then tugged Sarah’s arm. ‘There’s a man waving at you over there, Mummy.’

Sarah’s heart gave a thump when she saw Jake crossing the road towards them.

‘Who’s that?’ whispered Davy.

‘A friend,’ Sarah whispered before he reached them. ‘Be nice.’

‘Hello, Sarah.’ Jake smiled at her, then turned his attention to Davy. ‘Hi, there. I’m Jake Hogan.’

Sarah, prepared to give a surreptitious dig to prompt a polite response, was surprised to see Davy return Jake’s smile far more pleasantly than she’d ever managed with Brian.

‘Hello, I’m Davy Tracy,’ she told him. ‘Well, Davina, really. But Mummy only says that when she’s cross.’

‘I know all about that,’ he assured her. ‘When my mother calls me Jacob I shake in my shoes.’

Davy’s eyes widened. ‘Even though you’re grown up?’

‘Especially now I’m grown up!’ He turned to Sarah. ‘Are you out for a walk, or can I give you both a lift somewhere?’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said, smiling, ‘but we’re not going home yet. We went for a swim, had lunch, and now we’re making for the show in the park.’

Sarah was tempted to ask him to join them. But from past experience with Brian she knew that Davy would probably object to having a stranger muscle in on her precious Saturday.

‘Sounds like fun,’ said Jake. ‘Enjoy yourselves. Nice to meet you, Davy.’ He smiled at Sarah, hesitated a moment, then with one of his straight blue looks said goodbye and went off in the opposite direction before she could thank him for the flowers.

‘Is that a new friend?’ asked Davy, as they made for the park.

‘Yes. I met him quite recently. Why?’

‘He’s cool. Not a bit like Boring Brian,’ said Davy, then made a face. ‘Sorry!’

‘I should think so,’ said Sarah, trying not to laugh. ‘And for your information, miss, I don’t go out with Brian any more.’

‘Really?’ Davy’s face lit up. ‘Is that because of Mr Hogan?’

‘Certainly not. Brian and I decided to call it a day, that’s all.’

Davy danced a little jig of jubilation. ‘Great! I was really, really afraid you were going to marry Brian and I’d have to call him Daddy.’

Sarah couldn’t help laughing. ‘There was never any question of that, muggins.’

‘Thank goodness. Not that I’d mind if you did get married one day,’ added Davy magnanimously. ‘Someone like Polly’s dad would be fab.’

‘I’ll keep it in mind!’

Davy loved everything about the afternoon, delighted when she found that a dog show was part of the entertainment. She went into raptures over the irresistible Labradors, and clapped the elegant, obedient German Shepherds, then went wild with excitement when teams of mongrels raced against each other through obstacle courses. In between events she downed a hot dog, and several doughnuts, and after a few determined attempts
knocked down enough skittles to win a small white rabbit with blue eyes.

‘Do you think Grandma would like this?’ she asked, as they eventually began trudging home.

‘That’s a nice thought. I’m sure she’ll love it.’

‘That’s for me?’ said Margaret with delight when Davy handed it over. ‘And you won it? Thank you so much, darling. What’s his name?’

Davy gave Sarah a wide, wicked grin. ‘How about Jake?’

Sarah gave her a kindling look and despatched her off for a bath. ‘You reek of doughnuts, young lady.’

‘So does this rabbit,’ observed Margaret, when Davy was out of earshot. ‘Why Jake?’

Sarah explained their chance encounter with Jake Hogan. ‘She told me she likes him more than Boring Brian.’

Margaret gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Oh, dear. “Out of the mouth of babes”, and all that.’

Sarah gave her a narrowed look. ‘Are you telling me you agree with her? Yet you wanted me to marry Brian.’

Her grandmother passed a hand over her immaculate hair, looking defensive. ‘I just want security for you, Sarah.’

‘
If
I ever marry, which is unlikely in my particular circumstances, I’m fool enough to want a whole lot more than mere security.’ Sarah yawned suddenly. ‘Sorry. I need to scrub the reek of fast food from my person.’

When Davy was safely delivered back to Roedale next day the entire process was a lot happier than usual for Sarah, with the prospect of Jake’s company to look forward to. Right from Davy’s first day at Roedale Sarah
had made a habit of taking herself to bed early on Sundays to get the evening over with.

But tonight, she thought jubilantly, I’ll be with Jake—and slammed on the mental brakes again when the thought triggered off alarm bells. Careful, she warned herself.

But when Sarah turned into Campden Road she saw Jake leaning against the bonnet of his car, waiting for her, and knew that the alarm bells had rung too late. It would be all too easy to fall madly in love with Jake Hogan. She was halfway there already, if she were honest with herself. And because this particular form of madness had never troubled her before the early-warning signs had gone unnoticed.

Almost before she’d stopped the car Jake opened her door to help her out. ‘At last. I made the mistake of turning up early. I was getting impatient.’

‘Hi,’ she said, smiling. ‘Come in for a minute.’

Jake followed her through the front door, closed it behind him, then glanced at the stairs. ‘Is your grandmother in?’

‘No. Why?’

He took her in his arms very carefully and, when she didn’t resist, let out a deep breath and held her close. ‘Because I’ve been wanting this since I left you on Friday night,’ he whispered. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t kiss you unless you ask me nicely. Even though I wanted to kiss you when we met yesterday, too. Could you tell?’

She flushed. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Were you pleased to see me?’

‘Yes. So pleased I forgot to thank you for the flowers,’ she said breathlessly.

He grinned down at her. ‘Or were you too chicken to mention them because Davy was with you?’

‘Not at all.’ She smiled. ‘But you don’t have to keep sending me flowers, Jake.’

‘Why not?’ he said casually, and released her, his eyes alight with something which made Sarah back away.

‘If we’re going walking we’d better get moving,’ she said hurriedly. ‘So read the Sunday papers for a minute, Jake, while I park the car.’

‘Where?’

‘There’s a garage at the bottom of the garden.’

‘Give me your keys and I’ll do it.’

Sarah gave instructions about the lane running behind Campden Road, told Jake to come back through the garden, and while he was gone rushed to add a few touches to the face which glowed at her from the mirror. She changed her school-visit linen skirt and leather sling-backs for pink cotton jeans and powder-blue suede loafers, then hurried to the back door just as Jake appeared outside.