She had almost forgotten the burn. She shook her head. ‘Fine, honestly. The cold water has taken all the heat out of it.’
He was still doubtful. But he said, ‘Stay there,’ and went back into the house.
He came back with her shoes. He had clearly shaken all the shards of pottery out and, by the look of it, run them under the tap for good measure. They were certainly shiny, and slightly damp, inside and out, as well. He also had a worn piece of tartan cloth over his arm.
‘All I could find,’ he said briefly, offering it to her.
Zoe was pulling on her shoes. She looked up, shaking her head, laughing. ‘It’s the cat’s blanket. Cyrus won’t take it very kindly if I pinch it.’
‘But—’
She straightened. ‘Don’t worry. I’m all right now. Truly. And I’ve got a kitchen floor to clean up. That will get the blood moving.’
‘I’ll get you some more tea first,’ Jay said decisively. ‘Then we’ll see,’
He was as quick and efficient at that as he was at everything else. He brought it out to her and sat on the old chair opposite as she sipped. He leaned forward, looking at her keenly in the moonlight.
Zoe said uncomfortably, ‘You’re doing all the right things.’
He gave a ghost of laugh. ‘Am I?’
She was flustered. ‘I mean the treatment for superficial burns, shock—everything. Very professional.’
He sat back, shrugging. ‘I’ve run training weekends for kids. I thought it was a good idea to learn basic first aid.’
She was glad that he did not seem to be studying her under a microscope any more. ‘I would have thought that was just strained muscles and stuff. I mean running isn’t exactly a high-risk sport. Is it?’
She saw the flash of white teeth as he grinned in the darkness.
‘You have no idea what eleven-year-olds can do to themselves if they put their mind to it. If you ever get yourself stuck down a pot hole, I could probably get you out of that, too.’
‘A pot hole?’ gasped Zoe.
He smiled reminiscently. ‘A little anarchist called Brian. Good runner, too. Just never got the idea of doing what he was told.’
Zoe made a discovery.
‘You liked him.’
‘I suppose I did.’ He sounded surprised. ‘He kept going off on his own all the time. I could identify with that.’
‘You?’ She was sceptical.
‘Oh, yes. There’s a lot more to me than a spin doctor who lights a trail to land third-rate movies, you know.’
She flushed in the dark. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘No need. I had it coming.’
‘Even so—it wasn’t fair. I didn’t know you well enough to say a thing like that.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘No?’
She was oddly shocked. ‘Of course not. A couple of conversations and a lot of gossip don’t add up to knowing someone.’
‘So why do I feel that you’ve known me since the first moment you looked through me?’ Jay asked quietly.
‘What?’
‘Why do you think I was upset when you tweaked me about Lemon Sherbet Three?’
‘I didn’t know you were,’ said Zoe, shaken.
‘Oh, I was. And not because I expect the staff to sign up to my Napoleon image, either. I was upset because I thought—she could be right.’
‘But—’
‘You see clearly, Zoe Brown. I was worried that you were seeing through my protective colouring. And seeing how thin it was.’
She stared at him blankly.
‘No!’
She saw one eyebrow lift. ‘No? So what did you think of me?’
She shifted uncomfortably. ‘I just thought you were—very busy.’
His expression was wry. ‘You thought a lot more than that.’
He did not throw, ‘You could never be a candidate,’ in her face, but he was tempted. Only it was not very chivalrous, when she was so shaken. And he was supposed to be here as her knight in shining armour.
He said, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to answer that.’
Zoe shook her head. ‘No, it’s a fair enough question. If you really want to know—I was surprised that you were so good at your job.’