Naive Awakening

To say that he had grown up would, Leigh now felt, be somehow a huge understatement.

It would not begin to cover how vastly he had changed from the slightly aloof dark-haired little boy. For a start, there was nothing at all boyish about the man standing in front of her at all.

He was tall, powerfully built, with the same dark hair, but straighter now, and flint-grey eyes. The strong features were etched into an expression of polite curiosity as he looked at her.

As if, she thought, flushing, he were inspecting a mildly interesting form of bacteria. True, she had not changed much from her girlhood, still the same copper-coloured hair, the same wide blue eyes, the same stubborn, full mouth. Even so, it made her hackles rise to see that he was staring at her as though she had not changed at all, as though she were still the little girl he used to tease all those years ago.

‘Thank you for defending my brother, Mr Reynolds,’ she offered in a stilted voice. ‘I can’t imagine why our solicitor contacted your grandfather. You needn’t have come this long way for something as trifling as a joyride in a stolen car.’

‘My grandfather,’ he said, and it flashed through Leigh’s head that most barristers would give their eye-teeth to sound like him, ‘was very fond of Jacob. When Jacob died, he told your solicitor to get in touch with him if there was ever anything he could do for you and your brother.’

‘I see,’ she replied, only in fact seeing that it seemed a complete waste of Nicholas Reynolds’s time. She knew, from her grandfather’s occasional comments over the years, that he had excelled in law, and was constantly in demand.

The feeling of humiliation washed over her again. He must think them a couple of country bumpkins, she thought, charity cases. And it was all Freddie’s fault.

‘Anyway,’ she said awkwardly, her neck beginning to ache from craning upwards to look at him, ‘thanks for your help and your time. When are you heading back up to London?’

She knew that she should offer to take him out for a meal, or something, but for some reason she shied away from the invitation. Nicholas Reynolds made her feel uncomfortable. He had always made her feel uncomfortable. Anyway, she just wanted to get that brother of hers back to their small house where she could corner him.

She would somehow have to drill it into his head that this brush with the law would be the first and only one, that she was deeply worried by her private thoughts that trifling matters such as those often led to more serious offences. She had a lot on her mind, and none of it involved the unwanted arrival of this city barrister with his aristocratic good looks and persuasive voice.

She refocused her attention on to Freddie, only to find herself again cut off before she could utter a word.

‘Shall we discuss all this over coffee?’ Nicholas said, in a voice that implied she had no choice in the matter, his hand on her elbow as he guided her towards the double doors.

Leigh felt his fingers on her bare flesh with a disconcerting prickle of heat, and drew her arm away.

‘I’d love to,’ she lied effusively, ‘but I want to get Freddie back home.’

‘Why?’

The question threw her because she had expected him to nod, say goodbye and leave the way he came. He was altogether too self-assured, too sophisticated, and too damned good-looking for her liking. Also the way he had stared at her when he’d first spoken to her, and said that he had wondered how she had turned out, still rankled. The lazy drawl had, for no reason at all, made her feel defensive, made her feel, for heaven’s sake, like the gauche schoolgirl she had been all those years ago.

‘Because,’ she said patiently, ‘we have a few things to discuss. Or rather I have a few things to say to him.’ She shot Freddie a look that spoke volumes. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t want to detain you. I know that you’ve got better things to do with your time.’

‘On the contrary. I haven’t been back up this way for years. In fact, since the family left. It would be interesting to see how things have changed. And apart from that there are one or two things we need to talk about.’ Again that hard, inflexible tone that made her uneasy. What was there to discuss?

He pushed open the door, and stood back, allowing her to walk past him, which she did, very quickly.

She didn’t want him to think that she was nervous of him, but she was. Life in the fast lane had given him a cool edge of savoir faire which she was finding disconcerting.

She was not accustomed to men like him. She had grown up in a village where the people were simple, but friendly. They spoke their minds, and you always knew where you were with them.

Leigh had a feeling that Nicholas was the sort of man who only spoke his mind if it suited him. There was something watchful about him, watchful and controlled.

Next to her Freddie began babbling about inviting Nicholas back to the house, and Leigh turned to him and said sharply, ‘Shut up.’ She knew exactly why her younger brother was so keen on showing this virtual stranger all the delights of their little village. It was called buying time, and she was having none of it.

‘I think your brother’s right,’ Nicholas said smoothly. He smiled at her, a charming smile that could not quite hide the fact that he somehow disapproved of the situation in which he had found himself, and Leigh frowned.

‘Well, we could head back to the village and have coffee there,’ she said grudgingly, hearing her brother expel a long sigh of relief. ‘Did you drive up here?’

Nicholas nodded. ‘I’ll follow you, shall I? My car’s just there.’ He indicated a sleek Jaguar parked across the road, and Leigh thought that it was just the sort of car she would have expected him to drive.

‘I’ll go with Nicholas,’ Freddie piped up, ‘to show him the way.’

‘Don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing,’ she whispered fiercely under her breath. In a louder voice, she said, ‘Fine.’

Nicholas was looking at them both closely. We’re a species apart as far as he’s concerned, Leigh thought acidly. She looked at him again. Under the merciless rays of the sun, he was even more commanding that he had appeared in the shadowy bowels of the court. His black hair was thick and springy, his eyes shrewd and observant. He was staring back at her, and Leigh refused to be deflated. He was in her part of the world now, and as far as she was concerned she would look at him for just as long as she wanted.

Her eyes travelled the length of him, taking in the lovingly tailored cut of his suit, the likes of which she had never seen before apart from on television, the broad muscularity of his chest, the long, clever fingers, the patent leather shoes.

An expensive city animal, she thought wryly, a predator in the concrete jungle. It was unbelievable that he had ever spent any time at all living in Yorkshire, where the people could be as harsh as the weather.

‘Do you normally subject the men you meet to such careful appraisals?’ he asked.

‘Men like you don’t normally frequent this part of the world,’ she said evenly. ‘You’re a rarity here. Just as we’re a rarity for you. I’m merely subjecting you, as you call it, to the same sort of observation.’

‘Touché.’

‘Shall we go, then?’ Freddie asked, grinning at his sister’s ill humour.

He had stuffed his hands into the pockets of the suit which she had made him buy for the hearing, and in which he looked decidedly uncomfortable, and was hovering in a manner that suggested he had much better things to do than stand around in the baking sun.

What options did she have? Precisely none. Her well-rehearsed speech had flown right out of her head, and she spent the short journey back to the village fuming.

Ever so often she glanced into the rear-view mirror, and the sight of Nicholas behind the steering-wheel made her feel even angrier.

By the time they made it to the village and had parked their cars she had made up her mind to make any social patter over coffee as brief as she possibly could, and if he didn’t like her attitude then he could lump it.

Freddie was looking decidedly more relaxed. He shot her a wheedling smile, and asked whether he could go home.

Leigh looked at him, irritated to find that she was suddenly appalled at the prospect of being alone with Nicholas Reynolds.

‘Why do you want to go home?’ she prevaricated.

‘I have some study to catch up on.’

There was no answer to that one. It was rare enough that Freddie volunteered to study, usually relying on the fact that he was innately bright to get him through exams.

He grinned coyly at Leigh, as though fully aware that he had trapped her into submission.

‘Fine. You can also clean the house,’ she informed him, refusing to be beaten by a cheeky sixteen-year-old, ‘fix the kitchen door and take the dustbins out.’

‘Why do I have to fix the kitchen door? It works all right to me.’

‘It’s falling off its hinges.’

‘It doesn’t matter; I mean, there’s just the two of us, and—’