Pitch Imperfect(42)
“I’ve got until the end of the summer to negotiate the contract. I’m no’ sure I want to live abroad for so long anymore.”
“You were sure before Anjuli came back. Don’t tell me you didn’t want the job, no’ when you withdrew your candidacy for the Council to free yourself up for it.”
“Let it go, or I’ll tell Mac you’ve run out of divorcees to handcuff.”
An alarmed look, and Ben changed the subject to an upcoming football match between Heaverlock and Halton. They kept the conversation to local topics, but Ben’s pointed glances said he wouldn’t let up on Anjuli until he was sure Rob wasn’t in danger of getting hurt. Whisky polished off, Ben went to bed and Rob studied his drawings for Castle Manor.
Work had been his driving force for the past eight years and it could be for the next, and the next after that. He’d promised to complete Anjuli’s restoration before the end of summer and he had every intention of fulfilling his obligation. It would stretch him to the limit, but the challenge was stimulating. Exhausting, but satisfying.
It had nothing to do with primitive mating rituals, as Ben said; he wasn’t out to show Anjuli he could more than satisfy all of her needs. Ben might be a canny, intuitive policeman, but he was way off the mark on this one. He might be annoyed at her evasiveness, but he could turn his back on Anjuli whenever he wanted.
What he hadn’t been able to turn his back on was her odd reluctance to discuss the budget. All of his clients wanted clear numbers before the work began. Not Anjuli. She’d given him a cheque for fifteen thousand, then said she was “too busy” to read through his estimates for the second phase of the work. Trying to pin her down for a frank discussion was like trying to catch a fox on the chase. She might believe materials magically appeared with the builder fairy but restoring a house as large as hers in adherence to Planning Office rules required exact timing and advance payment to suppliers.
Finally, he’d sent her a short email suggesting he restore Castle Manor on account and bill her at intervals. She’d answered with a simple “thank you.” Strange not to comment on the attached list of outlays, or to question his estimates. Anjuli had never been good with money but he hoped her relaxed attitude didn’t spill into the restoration itself. Castle Manor deserved close attention to detail, and an owner who would maintain the building according to Historic Scotland’s strict rules for listed properties.
An owner like him.
Unbidden, an image of himself with Anjuli, making love in the fully restored large bedroom overlooking Heaverlock Castle sank into his mind until he had to adjust his hardening cock. It wasn’t right that Anjuli would live at Castle Manor. Did she not remember what the house had witnessed between them? Rob poured himself another whisky. The next time he saw her he’d give her a reminder.
* * *
Ash’s voice was trance-like. “Repulse the monkey, slowly now, and grasp the bird’s tail.”
Anjuli took a hasty step backwards. The only tail she was in danger of grasping was Mrs. P.’s and she’d rather not, thank you very much. The old lady’s apple-shaped bum was far too close for comfort, making it difficult to learn the T’ai Chi sequence Ash was trying to teach them.
During the low tourist season the Heaverlock Arms closed after lunch on Saturdays so that Ash could teach her class, and it reopened at 5:00 p.m. for the evening punters.
Viking was at the bar, occasionally shaking his head as he watched the class flex and contort. Mrs. P. followed Ash’s lead perfectly. She’d been doing T’ai Chi for seven years, she informed Anjuli, tut-tutting over her teetering clumsiness.
“Your energies are unbalanced,” she advised. “Concentrate on getting the feet right. That’s the best way to learn the form correctly.”
Sarah had joined the group this week. She was in front of Anjuli, also struggling. Of course, Sarah looked much less like Tweedledee than she did, what with her flat stomach, slender curves and toned arms. Anjuli got the next sequence right and Mrs. P. moved on to “helping” Sarah.
Anjuli grinned behind her back. Sarah was getting ever more confused as she tried to follow both Mrs. P’s and Ash’s conflicting instructions. Yes, it was petty, but she couldn’t help feeling satisfied that the accomplished reporter wasn’t as perfect as she appeared. Councillor Hamish joined the mix from across the room, trying to show Sarah what to do, and Anjuli stifled a laugh at her beset expression. Get used to it, lassie. When the villagers of Heaverlock decide someone needs help, they give it.
Anjuli switched her attention back to Ash. There was no way she’d get “snake creeps down” and “golden phoenix stands on right leg” correct if she didn’t watch her closely. But Ash’s gestures were jerky today. She looked pale and there were dark circles under her eyes.