Page 16 of The Fete of Summer (Tales of Crumbington #1)

Takeaway

Saturday lunchtime, with a shop full of customers, Nathan’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Even though he usually discouraged the practice, he popped in his Bluetooth earpiece and answered while serving customers.

The caller turned out to be Polly. After the flurry of messages on Tuesday night, Nathan had only switched his phone on once he’d arrived back home.

He’d immediately fired back apologies while accepting Polly’s offer for beers and food.

“What’s up, Polly? Are we still on for tonight?”

“Change of plan. Could you manage a bit of babysitting and pick Jaymes up from his office in Mosswold Forest? His Rover’s in for repairs. I had to drop him off to work this morning.”

“No problem,” Nathan smirked as he agreed.

Later on, he’d happily give Jaymes stick about the heap-of-junk that he considered his pride and joy.

He’d wondered if Polly might be calling to say that Jaymes had cried off because Kell-Bell wanted him to climb him like one of his forest trees on Saturday night.

As soon as the sarcastic voice sounded in his head, remorse filled him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt terrible and told himself not to be weird.

Hopefully Jaymes would be in one of his usual upbeat, slightly silly moods rather than his more serious and pensive one.

Seeing more customers entering the shop, Nathan was about to end the call, but Polly hadn’t finished.

“And about tonight,” she said. “Are you okay if it’s just the two of you?”

“Why? Do you have a better offer?”

Polly said nothing, and Nathan gasped.

“Do you have a date , Polly Wynter?”

While using tongs to place two chocolate croissants into a brown paper bag, he smiled at the customer. As an afterthought, he popped in a couple of complimentary macaroons.

“No, I—” He knew Polly well enough to recognise her discomfort. “Just dinner.”

“Come on. Spill the beans.”

At the till, he handed over the bag and took the cash from the young blonde girl, one of the Slubowski clan.

All of the offspring had the same trademark blonde hair, brown eyes and chubby red cheeks.

Before ringing up the purchase, he mouthed an apology about the call and received a slight shrug in return.

After handing back the change, he smiled and nodded to the next customer.

“Are you okay or not?” came Polly’s irritated voice.

“Ooh-err. Polly’s got a hot date. Who’s the lucky fellow, you saucy minx?”

“I swear you are turning into Jaymes. Do you want to go or not? Either way, I’ll let Jaymes know. And he’ll probably carry on working past midnight again.”

Familiar with his next customer, he pointed to her usual order of a fresh baguette and received a nod in response.

“Short or long?”

“What?” came Polly’s startled voice.

“Not you, Polly. Sorry, I’m serving Mrs McDonald from Berry Lane. Got a shop full of customers. Of course it’s fine. I’ll pick him up once I shut up shop.”

And right then, the truth sank in. Tonight, there would be only Jaymes. No Polly to run interference. Could he cope with that, he asked himself? Maybe later, he’d find out. Being out and about had to be better than another Saturday night, sitting alone and falling asleep in front of the television.

“Great,” said Polly. “I’ll text him.”

“Anything else you need to tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like, should he expect you home tonight?”

“Bye, Nate,” said Polly, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

* * * *

At six-thirty, after racing upstairs to shower and change, Nathan paused for breath and fired off a text to tell Jaymes he was on his way.

At least he could get away with casual and comfortable clothes tonight, nothing showy, just thick jeans and a warm sweatshirt.

If nothing else, Jaymes was easy company.

Tonight would be no pressure, just a meal out with a mate.

Maybe they would have a chance to chat more.

Instead of overthinking the night, he concentrated on driving towards the ominous, darkened horizon of Mosswold Forest.

With his headlights on full beam and heater warming the inside of the van, he followed Jaymes’ directions until he spotted the small private lane leading away from the public car park.

Following the winding road for a good five minutes, he eventually came upon a cabin raised on stilts in a clearing in the woods.

Lights burned inside. Not wanting to lose his cocoon of warmth, Nathan texted Jaymes.

Nathan: I’m outside in the van.

Jaymes’ reply popped up immediately.

Jaymes: Come inside.

Nathan: Too cold. I’ll wait for you here.

Jaymes: Need another 10 mins to finish up. Come in.

Nathan huffed out an irritated sigh. He had never met anyone as infuriating.

Most annoying of all, Jaymes always seemed to get his way.

After pulling on a thick hat and gloves, Nathan climbed out of the van and clumped up the three wooden steps to the entrance.

Opening the door, he peered inside but saw nobody around.

“Jaymes,” he called out.

“In here,” came Jaymes’ voice from a smaller office at the end of the cabin.

Nathan took a cautious step inside. Built entirely of wood, the space retained the smell of timber, along with the odour of soil trodden into the flooring.

Functional and very sparsely furnished, the larger room he passed through had plain grey filing cabinets and metal bookcases stuffed with box files.

One whole wall was covered from floor to ceiling with a giant map of Mosswold Forest and had multi-coloured pins stuck in various places, presumably meaning something to somebody.

In between each of the four desks sat a freestanding radiator.

Any residual heat in the building had long escaped through the door space, window seals or gaps between the slats of timber.

Nathan, keen to get back to the heat of the van, marched into the smaller office.

Ready to berate Jaymes for being tardy, he was confronted by the sight of his friend lying on his side along the length of a desk.

Grinning comically, he reclined stark naked except for a tree axe with the metal head covering his vitals, the handle sticking up vertically.

One of his hands cradled his handsome face while the other rested on top of his knee.

Jaymes might have meant the sight as a joke, but Nathan’s jaw dropped.

Polly’s cousin had an incredibly well-put-together body.

The sudden vision stalled Nathan momentarily until the obvious question came to him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Providing you with some inspiration for the calendar. What do you think?”

“Are you insane? It’s bloody freezing in here.”

“Tell me. Thought you’d never get here. My nuts have shrunk to the size of peanuts. What do you think of my chopper? Impressive, huh?”

Jaymes clamped a hand around the handle of the axe and waggled his eyebrows. Despite himself, Nathan burst out laughing and felt any annoyance drain away.

“You are a complete moron, do you know that? Get dressed before you catch your death. You owe me a beer and a meal. I’ll meet you outside in the van.”

“Don’t you want to grab a shot on your phone?”

“Get dressed, Jaymes!”

As he walked off, Nathan heard Jaymes moving.

Honestly, the man would do anything for a laugh.

And Nathan hadn’t been kidding about the air inside the lodge.

The temperature had to be only a couple of degrees above the subzero temperature outside.

Despite his curiosity, Nathan fought the urge to turn and grab another eyeful of his friend’s nakedness.

By the time Jaymes emerged, togged out in his usual jeans and brown leather pilot’s jacket, Nathan had the engine idling and the heater running on full power.

Just looking sidelong at his friend’s face, he could tell.

Mischievous Jaymes had come out to play tonight.

Heaven help me, thought Nathan. As Jaymes clambered in and belted up, Nathan put the van into gear and began the drive back.

“See how easy it is, Nate? Now, can I come along tomorrow?”

“Is that what your debauched display was all about? Getting me to agree to you coming to my photoshoot?”

“Maybe. So, can I?”

Nathan shook his head and grinned while navigating the dark lane.

“As long as you behave.”

Jaymes clapped his hands and whooped with joy.

“And promise not to show me up.”

“What? By stripping off, too? Would that constitute showing you up? Because, let me tell you, hotshot, once the photographer gets a glimpse of this smoking hot bod, Nathan Fresher will be totally off the programme.” Jaymes shoved Nathan on the shoulder and laughed aloud while Nathan rolled his eyes.

“You are such a dork. Who’s Polly going out with tonight?” asked Nathan.

“Bunch of old girlfriends, I think.”

“Really? She told me she had a date.”

“Did she now?” said Jaymes, his voice curious and roguish. “That’s not what she told me, the saucy little minx.”

Nathan peered out of the driver’s side window and stifled a snigger. He had used almost those exact words when talking to Polly. Was she right? Was he turning into Jaymes?

“Do you know which restaurant she’s going to?” asked Jaymes.

“We are not spying on her, Jaymes. Give the poor girl some privacy.”

“You’re no fun.”

Nathan drove for a little while without them speaking, wondering how to bridge the next topic.

“Surprised you’re not seeing Kelly tonight.”

“Kell-Bell?” said Jaymes, apparently surprised by the comment. “Why would I? She’ll be back in Wales by now. She was only here for a couple of nights.”

“Oh, I see,” said Nathan, his fingers drumming the steering wheel. “She’s nice.”

“She is.”

Nathan turned the heating down. His skin had begun to bake.

“Is that your type?

“Is what my type?”

“Long hair? Brunette? She’s a very sexy lady.”

Nathan noticed Jaymes’ grin broaden, even though he kept his gaze ahead.