Kellie Hailes - The Big Little Festival

‘Fine.’ Christian grinned. ‘Act like the fine, upstanding young men I know you to be. And no saying “cock-up”. At least not within the earshot of adults.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the boys chorused, saluting Christian. Their little faces solemn, their eyes glinting with good humour.

Christian fought the urge to reach out and ruffle their hair as Jody had done earlier. They were good kids. But it was better he kept his distance. Rabbits Leap was only a pit stop until he was sure things were going to blow over back home. There was no point forming attachments. Especially as he was incapable of living up to any “attachments” expectations.

‘I was also thinking they’d be quite good if we do end up needing a swing vote.’ Jody leaned against the windowsill.

‘But there’s two of them? What if they can’t agree? And do we really want to put the decisions in the hands of, what… a couple of eight-year-olds?’

‘Hey! We’re nine.’ Jordan stamped his foot and folded his arms across his chest.

‘Sorry. Nine-year-olds then.’ Christian nodded an apology to Jordan and Tyler, then looked over at Jody. ‘But really? We have to take this seriously.’

‘I am. This is a family festival. It’s for people of all ages. And who knows better what kids like than kids? Besides, they rarely disagree on anything. And if they do we’ll flip a coin. Or we’ll get Mrs Harper’s opinion.’

Christian’s heart broke out into another trot. ‘No, no need to get Mrs Harper involved. We’ll flip a coin.’

Jody’s smirk blossomed into a grin, one that revealed a cute dimple on her left cheek. What would it be like to touch, to kiss? The thought rose unbidden. What the hell was going on with him?

Christian leapt off the bed. Now was not the time to be thinking amorous thoughts. Now was the time to work. He could think amorous thoughts another time, about another woman. Definitely another woman. One not so obviously family-focused. One who would understand that work and winning came first. ‘Look, this room is no place for a meeting. It’s small. Cramped.’ And feeling more cramped by the second as he realised that Jody’s white paint-spattered tank top was ever so slightly see-through, revealing a hint of her bra. Lacy, latte-coloured. And housing two things he really shouldn’t be thinking about. ‘We need to get out, now.’ He charged for the door and made his way down the hallway, down the stairs and into The Bullion’s dining area, only knowing he was being followed because of the bang of his bedroom door closing, followed by multiple thumps of feet on floorboards closing in behind him.

***

What the heck had just gone on? Jody pondered as she stared at Christian’s back, which wasn’t so much taking the lead as beating some kind of retreat. One minute they were discussing the boys’ involvement, the next he’d bounded off the bed and bolted from the room.

But there had been a moment before that. A moment she thought she’d imagined. Or perhaps wanted to imagine. His eyes had flicked down, lingered on her top. Her chest. Then his eyes had widened, and he’d been up and gone. A man on a mission. Or a man looking to escape whatever was on his mind.

And what had been on his mind? Her? Jody glanced down at her top and saw it through new eyes. A man’s eyes. Oh. Her old painting tank top was a little see-through. And her bra was perhaps a little alluring. Not that she was trying to lure anyone with it. It was just there to hold up her boobs.

A shiver trailed its way down her spine. Why did she suddenly feel as if she’d exposed herself to Christian? Why hadn’t she brought another top in case it got chilly? Because it was summer. A warmer than usual summer at that. And why did she have a feeling things were only going to get hotter? Jody clenched her jaw. Nope. No heat here. Nothing steamy at all.

She followed the boys into the dining room and looked for the iced-water pitcher Tony always had filled and ready for customers. What she needed to do was drench herself in that, cool off… and give Christian a view of everything. Wet T-shirt competition styles. No. No water. She just needed to continue ignoring the fact that he was the hottest man she’d seen in years, while continuing to remember her number-one rule. No. Men. Allowed. Not until her boys were men. That was her rule and she was sticking with it.

And then what? The shiver returned, needling her conscience. And then what? Then she’d find another excuse, another way to keep her heart locked up, wrapped in chains and buried down a concrete-filled well.

‘Mum.’ Tyler tugged at her hand. ‘Where is Christian going?’

Jody gripped Tyler’s hand. Her boys were what mattered. They needed to grow up knowing they were all that mattered to her. They weren’t to feel like a second thought, the way she had growing up. She gave Tyler’s hand a squeeze. ‘No idea, T. Let’s follow him and find out, shall we?’

The three of them picked up their pace as they half walked half ran after Christian, who was storming down the main street, head down, shoulders hunched. He stalked past the butcher’s, passed Mel’s Café, didn’t look twice at the village hall, and continued up towards the school.

Her arms began to ache and she looked down to see the boys lagging behind her. Their chests heaving with exertion. ‘Christian!’ she called. ‘You’ve got to slow down. Our legs aren’t as long as yours!’

‘Nearly there,’ he yelled back.

To her relief he began to slow down. Then stopped. In front of the old pool, she realised.

‘Come on, boys, we might as well see what this madman is up to.’ They traipsed over to where Christian was standing, his eyes trained on the mural painted on the brick wall that separated the pool from the community.

‘Do you like it?’ asked Jody as she took in the picture she knew like the back of her hand. A fifty-by-ten-feet painting, filled with images of the Leap, from the town’s oldest resident, Mr Muir, hunched over his daily crossword, to a younger, laughing Mrs Harper washing a shopfront window, to her own boys frolicking in the pool – not that they’d had the opportunity as it had been out of commission well before they were born. The lives of the local residents were backed by the rolling Rabbits Leap hills, criss-crossed with hedgerows and stone walls, a clear blue sky hugging the hills. She considered it her greatest work. And hoped one day, once the boys were older, she’d be able to seriously work on her art. Take on commissions. Make enough money to realise the one dream she’d had before the boys were born, to travel through Europe seeing her favourite works of art in the flesh, not on some computer screen or in the pages of a coffee-table book.

‘It’s great. The artist really captured the boys. Their light. Their happiness. Their joy. You can almost feel the coolness of the water. I can see the wisdom coming from that gentleman. And Mrs Harper’s raucous joy. The artist is talented.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the mural.

‘The artist is me,’ said Jody. The words came out more shyly than she’d hoped for.

‘Wow, a sculptress and a painter. You really are very talented. Do you do it for a living?’

Jody shook her head. ‘No. It’s just something I do when I have some spare time. Looking after the boys and the day-to-day work on the farm keep me busy enough.’

‘You’re a farmer too? Like Serena?’ Christian’s lips quirked in disbelief.

Jody refrained from rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, I’m a farmer. Sort of. It was my grandparents’ farm and it was passed on to me when they passed away. Except I don’t know all that much about farming, so I’ve a farm worker, Jack. He does the hard work. I tend to do more of the managerial side of things. Not that I know much about managing anything, but it seems the story of my life is being plunged into a deep pool and being told I can sink or swim.’