Free Short and Sweet by Anna Jacobs Page A

stitches.’
    ‘Oh.’ He looked at it doubtfully. ‘I don’t think I can drive. Could you possibly—’
    ‘Take you to a doctor? Of course.’
    ‘My name’s Richard, by the way.’
    ‘Louise.’
    She had him in the nearest doctor’s surgery in ten minutes flat. ‘I’ll wait and drive you back.’
    ‘I’m really grateful.’ He smiled at her.
    He had a lovely smile. It lifted his face from ordinary to attractive. She found herself responding to it and for a moment the two of them just stood there, smiling. Then the nurse came to take him into the small operating theatre.
    A little later the receptionist came across. ‘The doctor wants to tell you how to look after your husband’s hand.’
    ‘He’s not my . . .’ But the woman was already leading the way back.
    The doctor looked exhausted. ‘Ah, Mrs Crossley!’ He then proceeded to explain rapidly how to look after the hand. He had gone off to see the next patient before either of them could correct the misunderstanding.
    Richard grimaced at her. ‘Sorry about that. I tried to explain, but no one would listen. They’ve had a bit of a busy day, I gather.’
    Louise shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m happy to help you. That’s what neighbours are for, isn’t it?’
    ‘I’m your nearest neighbour, actually. I have a two-acre block next to yours.’
    As she parked she noticed that the gardens were stunningly beautiful, but the house had an unloved air.
    ‘It’s a bit messy,’ he said apologetically when she took him inside.
    ‘Never mind that. Come and sit down. You look as white as a sheet. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
    ‘I prefer coffee, actually.’
    ‘So do I. Where’s your percolator?’
    ‘I haven’t got one, only instant. Will you join me anyway?’
    Good coffee was her biggest weakness. She tried not to pull a face at the thought of instant coffee, but he looked so pale she didn’t like to leave him alone yet. Anyway, he seemed a nice man and it always paid to get on good terms with your neighbours.
    As she made the coffee, she lectured herself. Stop trying to be sensible, Louise. You like him. You want to get to know him. Admit it. It was the smile that had done it. And the long, lean lines of his body. Attractive. She’d always liked tall men.
    He sipped the brown liquid. ‘Aaah! I can never get it to taste like that. But then, you’re a trained cook, aren’t you?’
    She shook her head. ‘No. But I do love cooking.’ It had been her secret passion for years. Luckily she was the sort who stayed slim, because she was famous for her chocolate cake.
    ‘If your prices aren’t too steep, I’ll probably come next door quite often for my meals.’ He gestured towards the window. ‘I’m addicted to gardening, but I don’t often bother to cook for myself.’
    Within two weeks, Louise had the café open. Not for fancy meals, just snacks. Her own beefburger recipe; fresh salads; crusty bread; home-made cakes. It wasn’t hard to organize. She’d been working out her business plan ever since she signed the contract for the house.
    She soon grew accustomed to seeing Richard every evening and began to look forward to it. He was her last customer, he always joked, there to help eat the leftovers.
    It was lovely to have someone to talk over the day with, to laugh with over the absurdities of the customers, many of them from the holiday rentals just down the road, or passing traffic from cars. She and Richard had a similar sense of humour, as well as their mutual addiction to coffee and chocolate cake.
    And when his body brushed against hers accidentally, well, he couldn’t tell how her pulse speeded up, could he?
    When his hand was better, Richard asked, ‘What about the gardens?’
    She was thinking out a new sandwich list. ‘Mmm? What?’
    ‘The gardens here. What are you going to do about them?’
    She stared out of the window. ‘I’ll have to hire someone. I hate gardening, but I can’t leave it like that, I