up and dumping my troubles on your doorstep.’
Olenka grinned. ‘Lucky for me that’s not what your parents said when I arrived from Poland with a new baby and no husband.’ She crooked her little finger and Katya wound hers around it. Shades of the time when Katya had been the one to offer comfort, helping Olenka with her English and babysitting when she went out looking for work. ‘Look, the only thing I care about is that you’ll be safe and happy. And from what I know of Luke, you will be.’
‘You mean from what your spies tell you?’ It hadn’t escaped Katya’s attention that Olenka had drawn a couple of her customers aside, people who, she guessed, knew Luke well, and asked a few hushed but clearly important questions.
‘You’re not in London now, this is a village. Everyone has spies.’ Olenka brushed the accusation off. ‘And none of mine have a word to say against him.’
‘Right. And what do they have to say about me?’
‘Nothing. What happened to you is your business, no one else’s. The only thing that Luke has a right to know is whether you can do the job. This other thing is …’ Olenka waved her hand dismissively ‘… nothing to do with it.’
‘You think so?’ Katya supposed that Olenka was right. On the other hand, this was a position of responsibility. Shouldn’t a prospective employer know that she had feet of clay?
‘You came here to make a new start. You can leave it all behind you if you want to. Whatever you want to think, none of what happened was your fault.’
Katya shrugged. She couldn’t bear to say that she was innocent when she felt so very guilty, even for Olenka’s sake. ‘Well, I’ll send the application form off and see what happens. Maybe I won’t even get the job.’
Clutching the envelope that contained her curriculum vitae, Katya walked through the pub and into the garden behind it, scanning the wooden tables and benches. Luke was there, an untouched pint of beer in front of him and a blond Labrador retriever dozing in the sun at his feet. He frowned when he caught sight of her.
‘I thought we decided this wasn’t an interview.’ His eye travelled from her blouse and skirt to his own work-worn jeans. ‘I didn’t bother to dress up.’
‘Neither did I.’ Like hell she hadn’t. Katya had spent a good couple of hours deciding what to wear. Lively and outgoing the job description had said. She’d reckoned that warranted a bright summer skirt and a pair of strappy sandals, and that her plain blouse would cover the responsible part of things.
‘Oh. Well, in that case what can I get you to drink?’ He grinned up at her, his dark eyes flashing with mischief.
‘Water, please. Sparkling.’ Katya sat down opposite him, laying her envelope on the wooden trestle table.
‘Sure? I can’t get you anything stronger? This really isn’t an interview, it’s just an informal chat …’
‘I’d like some water, please.’ Katya wanted to keep a clear head for this.
‘Of course.’ Luke bent and ran his hand down the sleeping dog’s back and it opened its eyes. Dark and soft, like its master’s. ‘Meet Bruno. Say hello, Bruno.’
The dog rose and lifted its paw, and Katya took it. ‘Is he yours?’
‘Don’t let him hear you say that. Bruno’s always earned his own living. He’s retired from the rescue business now, though, and I’m the one who gets to feed and look after him.’ Luke rose from his seat. ‘Ice and lemon?’
‘Yes, thanks. Not too much ice.’
Katya watched him go. Pale, washed-out jeans that fitted him far too well and a dark polo shirt, which clung to his broad shoulders. An easy, laid-back gait, which made her want to walk beside him. Any woman would. Luke was by far the best-looking man she’d seen in years, probably for ever, and he had that indeterminate quality about him that turned good-looking into something that made you catch your breath and shiver every time you even thought about his lips.
She’d get used to it, though. After a couple of weeks working alongside him she’d get to see the person and forget all about the gorgeous outer wrapping. And she wanted this job. Katya had come to the conclusion that she wasn’t ready to go back to nursing yet, but she’d outgrown the coffee shop. She wanted something more, and this was an ideal stepping stone.
The clink of ice in a glass shattered her reverie. ‘I see you’ve already won the chairman of the board over.’ Luke’s eyes were flashing with gentle humour as he indicated Bruno’s head, resting in her lap.
‘He gets a vote?’
‘Yeah. I just get to do the talking.’ Luke sat down, sliding a bar menu across the table towards her. ‘Would you like something to eat?’ He saw her hesitate and laughed. ‘It’s not a trick question. I’m starving. Let’s order and we can talk while we’re waiting.’
He ordered a home-made burger with steak-cut chips and salad, grinning his approbation when Katya said she’d have the same. He took a draught of beer from his glass and then all his attention was on her. Katya tried not to think about how his gaze always seemed to resemble an embrace.
‘I’ve brought my CV for you.’ She laid her two-page résumé on the table between them, along with the fat A4 envelope. She’d brought a handkerchief, too. There was one point in this story that always sent tears coursing down her cheeks, however many times she practised it in front of the bathroom mirror.
‘What’s in the envelope?’
‘Just some supporting documents.’ Katya took a sip of water, wondering whether perhaps a little Dutch courage might not have been a good idea. ‘There’s something I’d like to tell you.’
‘No.’ Luke was suddenly still. Only his hand moved, to Bruno’s head, his fingers absently fondling his ears.
‘No?’ This was the one reaction she hadn’t expected from him. Anything else, but not this flat refusal to even listen to her.
‘I don’t want to hear it, Katya. The form that you filled out said that you’re a nurse. That you had a senior position in one of the top London hospitals but you left more than a year ago.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ There was still a swell of pride. Muted now, and tinged with bitter experience, but it was still there.
‘In my experience, someone with that kind of background, who’s working in a coffee shop, is in need of a new start. Is that right?’ His manner was kind, but he’d sliced right to the bone.
‘Yes. That’s right.’ Katya felt her spine begin to sag, and pulled herself upright, squaring her shoulders.
‘Then let’s make one. Look forward instead of back.’
‘But you need to know …’ Katya knew that she had to put her own feelings aside. Disclosure was one of those things you had to do in this kind of job. ‘I’ll be working with children, with vulnerable adults …’
‘Not yet you won’t. It’ll be another month before the reserve is open to the public and we get the project going to take animals into the hospital. I need to put an advanced CRB check in motion,
