by Jenny Kane
Jo was singing alone. His rich baritone reverberated around the church, the pure sound giving Izzie goose-pimples, and sending tears of pride running from her eyes.
The sound of Mr V’s distinctive chuckle could be heard as he regaled his friends with tales of the looks on Izzie and Megan’s faces when Mrs V had turned up dressed as a French maid. The villagers, who had turned up to a man, swelled the ranks in the art centre so much that Izzie wasn’t sure another human being could fit through the door. Elbowing her way through the people, she found Megan and Nick taking a break from handing out cups of tea and coffee.
‘I am glad you two are together. I wanted to say thank you! Look at all these people. I could never have done this without you Megan. You’re so kind, and I was so snappy at you, and …’
Megan hugged her friend, ‘you were worried and in pain. And it was my pleasure. Wasn’t the choir amazing! That Jo is some singer, and so is your mother to be fair.’
Izzie hugged Megan back, ‘The choir were all magnificent, and my father is thrilled. Now David has taken my mother on, he’ll have an evening without her every week. He sees it as a weekly holiday! Although poor old Jo will have her instead!’
Nick pointed towards the kitchen vestry, ‘He is getting a bit of practice now. Looks like your mother has him hostage.’
‘Oh hell!’
With Megan and Nick following close behind, Izzie worked her way to the kitchen. Her parents, and a couple she didn’t know, were congratulating Jo on his performance.
Seeing Izzie approach, Jo gave her a quick warning glance, before taking a hold of her hand, ‘And here she is. Mother, Father, may I introduce Miss Isadora Spencer-Harris, or Izzie as she prefers.’
Lady Spencer-Harris winced at the use of her daughter’s nickname in such company, but as she didn’t say anything cutting, Izzie sensed she’d missed something.
The other woman however, hadn’t missed it, ‘Oh I do so understand! I hate it when my son is referred to as Jo, I mean, what’s wrong with Joseph? You wouldn’t believe the number of people who simply assume we have a daughter called Joanna when they hear the name Jo!’
Izzie gawped at Jo as realisation dawned.
He spoke out of the side of his mouth, hoping only Izzie would hear, ‘you know what I was about to tell you before Mrs V came in looking like Fi Fi La Bonne?’
‘Yeeessss?’
‘Well, the reason my parents didn’t want me to be a carpenter, is that they didn’t think it would attract a suitable partner for someone with a name like Joseph Parker-Smythe, heir to the Banbury estate.’
‘Oh my God, you’re joking?’
‘Nope.’ Taking a deep breath, Jo returned to the introductions, ‘Izzie, may I introduce my parents, the Duke and Duchess of Banbury.’
Lady Spencer-Harris, looking like the cat that hadn’t just got a saucer of cream, but an entire jug full, beamed at her daughter, ‘Darling, I am so proud of you!’
Izzie’s mouth dropped opened, as she turned to Megan and Nick for confirmation that she didn’t still have concussion and was hearing things. One glimpse at their shocked faces however, confirmed she wasn’t imagining things.
Drawing Izzie slightly to one side, Jo’s expression creased with concern, ‘you haven’t gone off the idea of getting to know me better, have you? Now you’ve discovered I’m from precisely the sort of family you’ve been trying to avoid.’
Holding Jo’s hand tighter, Izzie shook her head in disbelief. ‘You really are full of surprises, aren’t you, miracle carpenter man?’
‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart.’ Then, taking advantage of her stunned state, Jo pulled Izzie closer, and tilting her chin, kissed her softly.
Not sure if he was going to get a hug or a slap, Jo flicked a stray hair from Izzie’s fringe and tucked it behind her ear, ‘So, is the fact that my family background is even more ancestrally blue-blooded than yours going to be a problem?’
Catching sight of Megan, who was frantically making thumbs up and ‘Go for it!’ signs behind Jo, Izzie decided to test whether kissing him in public for a second time would be as nerve-tinglingly good as the first time.
Jo’s eyes twinkled at her in a way that silently spoke of the passion he was struggling to hold back until a more appropriate moment, ‘Does kissing me again mean you could cope with being the girlfriend of the next Duke of Banbury?’
Taking Jo’s hands, Izzie held them with a reassuring tightness as she beamed back at her carpenter, before looking around at the laughing and happily chattering villagers and choristers who were enjoying themselves in her beautiful, newly rescued, Cotswold Arts Centre, ‘Honestly, your Grace! I don’t know what to say!’
‘Well, I do!’ Megan called across the crowds. ‘Mrs V, I think we need some of your mulled wine over here. And fast!’
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Published by Accent Press Ltd 2014
ISBN 9781783759408
Copyright © Jenny Kane 2014
The right of Jenny Kane to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN