Jill’s hand walloped upside Duncan’s head before he had a chance to dodge out of her way, sending the room into a fit of laughter.
‘Silly old goat. Like we’d let you near a computer anyway.’ She grinned, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.
‘I’m loving this plan.’ Sylvia set a jug of gravy down. ‘But what if she doesn’t want to come home? What if this was the last straw? What if she’s afraid to trust us? To trust our intentions?’
A solemn silence fell over the table as each member of the family digested Sylvia’s comment.
She had a good point. It was one thing to try once more, but only an idiot kept coming back for rejection. Did that make Grey an idiot? A fool? Completely stupid? Because he was willing to risk rejection one more time.
More than that, he was willing to give everything up for love.
If Hannah would have him.
‘Duncan, Jill.’ He took a deep breath in, then released it. ‘Peter, Sylvia.’ He faced the people who’d given him the support and steadiness he’d craved his entire life. Who’d never demanded more than he could give, and treated him as family even during the times he’d pushed them away. ‘I have a proposal, and it might not be one you like. But I think it’ll be best for all of us in the long run.’ He picked up his glass of wine and took a long swallow. Dutch courage was in order now, but for what he was planning to do he was going to have to muster up all the real courage he could find.
It was time for Grey Walker to do the most un-Grey Walker thing ever…
It was time for Grey Walker to risk everything.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Not feeling well, pet?’
Hannah blinked herself back to the here and now and resolved to pull her head out of the clouds for the millionth time that day.
Out of the clouds? More like out of the strawberry fields where she’d found a sense of peace she’d not experienced in a long time. Out of the farmhouse’s kitchen where she’d shared so many wonderful meals with her family. Out of the cab of the farm’s truck where she’d realised she and Grey might have stood a chance of reconnecting once again.
‘You’re looking a touch peaky.’
An age-worn palm made its way into her field of vision, and she tapped it aside with the end of her blush brush.
‘I’m fine, honestly.’ It never ceased to amaze Hannah how kind Dame Dawn Featherston was. For all her years in the industry, for all her accolades, all her reasons to be a stuck-up old biddy, she was kind, caring, thoughtful and considerate – and far too observant. ‘Just had a few early starts and late nights. Never a good combination.’ She pushed out an attempt at a light-hearted laugh.
A failed one if Dame Dawn’s elegant brow raise was anything to go by.
‘I can tell by the shade of purple under your eyes that what’s truly keeping you awake all these hours is a man.’
Her brows somehow rose even higher.
‘Drop those brows right now before you crease your makeup,’ ordered Hannah. ‘And how could my skin shade possibly tell you that I’m brooding over a man?’
Dame Dawn shrugged as a triumphant smile spread. ‘It doesn’t. Just a well-educated guess combined with a well-executed white lie.’
‘You…’ Hannah held her tongue. ‘I’m not going to say what I’m thinking because you’re a dame and I’m sure that would be against the rules, and also I like you too much to say what I’m thinking right now.’
‘Interfering old cow? Rude decrepit bat? Wrinkly past-it nosy parker?’
‘You’re being far too polite about it.’ Hannah raised her own eyebrows, then dropped them as Dame Dawn’s shoulders started to shake with silent laughter. ‘Is it that obvious how miserable I am?’
‘Only to those who’ve been up close and personal with you as often as I have.’ Dame Dawn reached out and cupped her cheek affectionately, like a mother would do to her child. ‘I’ve never seen you this out of sorts. Tell me who he is and I’ll have a hit put out on him.’
Shock shook Hannah out of her maudlin moment. ‘You could do that?’
Dame Dawn removed her hand from Hannah’s cheek with a dramatic flourish. ‘I’m a dame, am I not? I’m sure I could make it happen. There have to be some perks that come with the title.’
Hannah fished around for a light mauve lip liner. ‘Not those kind of perks, I suspect. Now stop reading my mind and telling me the stuff about myself that I’m trying to hide for one hot second.’
‘Only if you tell me about him while you do my lips.’
Hannah let out a soft sigh. It was a losing battle. She knew the woman well enough to realise [HN56]that she wouldn’t let the subject of Hannah’s affection, or lack thereof, go.
‘So you know I went home to help out on my family’s strawberry farm?’
Dame Dawn’s lips made to open.
‘Uh-uh.’ Hannah raised a warning finger. ‘You don’t want me to accidentally stab you with my lip pencil, do you?’
Her lips relaxed once more and Hannah leaned in and began to trace a line around Dame Dawn’s mouth.
‘It didn’t go quite to plan. The plan being get in, help, leave. Instead I got there, helped, fell in love with my first love all over again[HN57], then…’ Hannah paused, shame washing over her as she remembered how rash she’d been. Acting from her child-space, Amethyst would say.
Hannah set the liner down and picked up a lipstick bullet and her scalpel and scraped a nub off from the top onto her makeup palette, then using a lip brush began to fill in the area.
‘Then when my family weren’t begging me to stay, when the man I’d loved since I was young [HN58]didn’t choose to come home with me, I left. And haven’t been in contact since, and now I don’t know what to do. Or, if I’m totally honest, who I am anymore.’ She set the lip brush down with a regretful shake of her head. ‘So there you have it. Go ahead. Give me advice. Although don’t be upset if I ignore it. I’m great at ignoring advice – especially my own.’
‘Oh, darling girl.’ Dame Dawn laid a jewel-heavy ringed hand on her forearm. ‘I’ve had six husbands, numerous love affairs and have never settled in one spot for longer than six months. I’m hardly going to give you any kind of advice that’s helpful. What I can say – and this comes from making this mistake far too many times – is listen to your gut and go with your heart. Now finish my face. I’ve a red carpet to swish my way down.’
The bustling streets of London trundled by Hannah as the cab crawled along at snail’s pace. She pulled out her mobile and keyed in the security number. Her finger hovered over Grey’s name on the messaging app. If she called him, what would she say? How could she right the wrongs between them?
Listen to your gut and go with your heart.
Dame Dawn’s words rang clear in her mind, and echoed the advice Amethyst had given her. She’d spent so much time dwelling on the past she’d lost sight of what she wanted.
If she stripped away the past and removed the old emotions, what was left?
A message flashed up on the screen, startling Hannah. Her heart morphing from racing to sinking when she saw it wasn’t who she’d hoped it would be – as she had every time a message had appeared – not Grey, but Amethyst checking in on her.
Finished your job?
Yes. She keyed the word in and hit send, not sure what else to say. Knowing that it didn’t matter what she sent back, their conversation would end up in the same place it had for the past few weeks as Amethyst saw her friend’s happiness slow, then stutter, then stop.
The cab pulled in outside of Hannah’s flat. She paid, grabbed her kit then got out with a half-hearted smile and nod of thanks.
She stared at the bare stoop. Its emptiness further adding to the heaviness in her heart. What did she expect to see there? A dozen roses asking her to rethink her decision? A giant helium balloon bobbling about in the breeze with a jaunty ‘come home’ emblazoned on it?
Grey?
Idiot. She was bonkers to expect anything from anyon
e. Not when she’d pushed them away. Not when she’d fled without fighting for her right to be there. Twice.
She let herself into her flat, set her kit to one side of the door and shuffled the few steps to her bedroom. Maybe a nap would help. Not that any of the naps she’d been taking, more and more frequently of late, had made a difference. But perhaps this could be the magic one that waved its wand while she slept and made everything better.
She toed off her shoes, pushed aside her violet-coloured duvet and snuggled under. Her eyes began to lower, their drop into sleep disturbed by the violent buzzing of her mobile on her bedside table.
‘Really?’ She picked it up and looked at the screen. Amethyst. Again. Of course. She should have lied and told her she was still working. That would’ve kept Amethyst’s knowing looks and meaning-laden words out of her life for a bit longer.
She swiped to answer the video call.
A few seconds later Amethyst appeared on the screen, her hair blowing across her face, the sky behind her a brilliant blue, the sound of waves shushing in the background punctuated by the wail of gulls that circled and swooped in and out of frame.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve become a surfer now?’ Hannah bunched the duvet up around her and snuggled further down. ‘Or worse, Matt’s groupie?’
‘Pfft.’ Amethyst flicked sand at the screen. ‘As if. He wishes. I’m just waiting for him to finish up before we head out for a bit of brunch.’
‘It’s only a matter of time.’ Hannah stifled a yawn. ‘Just you wait, you’ll be giving up all you’ve worked for to chase the summer before you know it.’
Amethyst snorted. ‘About as likely as you are to give up being a stubborn toad and head back to the farm to tell them you’re sorry, you should never have left and that you’d like to return for good.’
Hannah pulled her pillow over her head to muffle her groan, then chucked it aside and sat up against the headboard. ‘Is it really that obvious that I’m miserable?’
‘Girl, you’re already in bed. Your skin is in desperate need of bronze and blush. Seriously, you’re that pale I’m amazed you haven’t been carted to a morgue. And you’ve not bothered colouring your hair or straightening it. You’re pining for the country, and you’re unwilling to go back to your city ways. You’re stuck.’
Hannah pushed her head back and banged it on the headboard. ‘I. Know. I’m. Stuck.’ Each word met with a thunk of head on timber. ‘I hate that I am, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to go back for a second time and say sorry. I’m afraid they’ll send me marching. That my leaving without a word again would be the last straw. I’m ashamed and embarrassed and…’ Hannah took a deep breath in. It was time to be straight up, not so much with Amethyst but with herself. ‘And I actually kind of hate myself right now. I don’t want to live in my head. With my thoughts. I’m so irritated with myself and if I could give my body to another person’s mind to sort my life out for me, I would.’
‘But then that person wouldn’t be you.’ Amethyst’s tone was kind, patient and tinged with concern and sadness. ‘You’re brilliant, Han. You’re passionate and loving and you throw yourself into everything you do. You also care too much about what other people think of you and what you do. To be fair, that over-caring streak is part of what’s gotten you as far as you have. Good was never good enough for you. Not in any part of your life. Not when applying makeup to faces. Not when preparing to run a farm. Not when helping on the farm the way you did this summer.’ Amethyst pushed the hair blowing in front of her face to the side, held it there, and pinned Hannah with her earnest gaze. ‘Especially not when it comes to love.’
‘Are you saying I care too much about love?’ Hannah scooted back down under the covers as a shiver surged over her body. ‘Is it possible to care too much? Isn’t that what we should strive for? More than money or possessions or fame?’
‘Not if it’s to your own detriment. Not when loving someone so much sends you scuttling away or pushing them away. Or both.’ Amethyst looked away from Hannah, a smile blossoming on her face.
Seconds later she squealed as a wetsuited and dripping Matt came to snuggle up beside her.
‘Han! How the hell are ya?’ Matt shook his head sending droplets of water everywhere, eliciting another screech from Amethyst. ‘Sorted yourself out or are you still being a sad sack?’
‘God, not falling for your charms was the smartest thing I’ve done ever.’ Hannah stuck her tongue out at him.
Matt’s grin widened as she shrugged. ‘Just calling it how I see it. People spend too much time circling around saying nice things when getting to the point is what’s needed.’
‘And just what is the point, in your view?’
‘Yeah?’ Amethyst nudged Matt’s shoulder with her own. ‘What’s your view, Mr Know-it-all?’
‘Women?’ Matt turned his attention to the sky. ‘Why do I even bother?’ He shook his head before facing Hannah again. ‘Here it is. Listen close.’
Despite herself, Hannah found herself moving closer to the screen, her ears pricked so as not to miss a word.
‘You love the farm. You love Grey. Grey loves you. Your family loves you. The past can’t be fixed in three weeks. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed with a bit more time. Stop expecting others to fall in line with what you think needs to happen as quickly as you think it needs to happen. Slow your flow. Calm your farm.’
‘You had me up until the last bit.’
‘It means relax. Be patient. Don’t hurry anyone up. But that means you have to be there. And you have to stay. Through the good and the bad.’ Matt leaned over and kissed Amethyst on the cheek. ‘Go home, Han. Go live the life you were meant to.’
‘He’s hot. Funny. And wise.’ Amethyst glanced admiringly at Matt. ‘I think I might let him stay on.’
‘Only if you’re lucky,’ Matt shot back.
‘You’re both lucky – now shush, you’re making me jealous with all that loved-up energy you’re thrusting in my direction.’ Hannah swung her legs out of bed and pushed herself back into standing position. For the first time in weeks energy zipped through her veins.
Matt was right. She needed to go home. Amethyst was right, too. She needed to stop caring so much about how the people she loved loved her. That attitude had only created blockades and boundaries. Ones she was determined to smash.
‘Ams, she’s moving! Look! It’s a nowhere-near-Christmas miracle!’
Matt’s squawk of surprise made Hannah laugh. The bright sound unshackling the chains that had made their home around her heart.
‘Keep moving, Han! Don’t stop until you reach the strawberry fields.’
Matt waved her away as Amethyst blew her a kiss. ‘Go well, my beautiful friend. Go well and be happy.’
Hannah kissed the palm of her hand and pushed it out towards Amethyst. ‘Thank you. Both of you. I’ll be in touch before picking season to see if you need some work.’
‘You’d better be in touch before that.’ Amethyst turned a fierce gaze on her, before wrinkling her nose in amusement as she signed off.
Hannah tossed the mobile on her bed, squatted down, pulled out her suitcase and begun flinging clothes in, ignoring all the designer clothing and towering heels in favour of warm but comfy clothing that would make working the fields during the cold months cosier. What she didn’t have she hoped she could borrow from her mum and gran.
With a satisfying ziiiiiiiip she closed the suitcase, pulled it into a standing position and wheeled it back towards the front doorstep.
This was it. She was going home.
And nothing and no one could ever make her come back.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Grey wiped his damp palms down the length of his cargo shorts as a parade of buildings passed by. Nerves prickled through his veins and whirled like dervishes in his stomach as the train the drew closer to Paddington Station. His mind chatter swung from ‘what were you thinking?’ to ‘don’t stuff this up’, and always, always end
ed with ‘what’s your plan once you get into town?’
He had Hannah’s address. He had an idea of how to get there thanks to the map on his mobile. Jill had confirmed via Amethyst that Hannah was in the city and not working out of town. But he had no idea what to expect once he got to her house, knocked on the door and invited himself into her life.
Would she want to see him? Would she send him back to Cornwall? Could she forgive him for failing her right when she needed him most? Could he learn to listen, to understand, to be who she needed him to be?
He closed his eyes, blocked out the towering buildings that stood stark against the blue sky, and vowed not to let his habit of a lifetime, his method of self-protection to kick in, to take over.
No more ignoring her pain. No more ignoring her truth. He would listen, he would hear, he would be there for her. Be the man she needed him to be. Be the man he needed to be if he was ever going to have any kind of life. One filled with meaning, with love.
He opened his eyes as the train further slowed, the open-air disappearing as they pulled in. People lined the platforms. Some looking at their mobiles. Others staring into mid-air. All carrying a look of stress, of tension that made him want to turn tail and head back to the slow ways of the countryside.
A flash of colour in the sea of muted tones caught his eye. A turquoise-coloured suitcase being dragged one way, then the other, then back again in a show of impatience by a woman wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a simple, navy sweater.
Grey’s heart rate ratcheted up further as he realised there was something familiar about the woman.
He turned his head and narrowed his eyes in concentration as the train passed her, giving him a glimpse of her face. A scattering of freckles, petite lips pushed out in an exasperated pout, sandy blonde hair pulled back off her face in a stubby ponytail that went to a platinum shade at the ends.
He craned his neck for a better look, but his view was marred by a tall man in a business suit stepping in front of the woman, hiding her from sight.
Was it? Could it be? Was anxiousness making him see things?
Sunrise at Strawberry Farm: As delightfully delicious as strawberries and cream, this is the perfect summer romance to read in 2020. Page 21