by Ashley Croft
‘Locking up the tandem.’ Molly pointed to the bike racks in front of the unit.
Sarah followed Molly’s gaze. Snowflakes had started to fall now and the road outside looked like it had been dusted with icing sugar. Ewan was securing the tandem to the metal rack.
‘You haven’t cycled here on that?’ she said.
Molly laughed. ‘We thought it was appropriate though we might be sleeping on your workroom floor if this snow gets any worse.’
‘I don’t mind. I’ve got a spare duvet.’
Ewan walked in carrying a backpack and kissed Sarah’s cheek. ‘There’s a bottle of whisky and fizz in here,’ he said, patting the bag.
‘Oh, sounds good. Come on, let’s get the party started.’
She took their coats and they congregated in the kitchen around the worktop.
‘Can I do anything?’ Ewan asked while Molly took the booze out of the backpack.
‘That’d be great. You can heat up some of the Indian snacks. They’re in the fridge – and make the salad if you want to.’
‘No problem.’ Ewan washed his hands and set to work. He looked perfectly at home and happier than Sarah had ever seen him. Molly was positively popping with excitement.
‘How’s my little Rowena? Can I see her?’ she asked while Ewan sliced up tomatoes.
‘If you’re very quiet. She’s been a little minx today but I finally got her off half an hour ago. I hope she sleeps through our party.’
‘I’ll be quiet, I promise, you can trust Auntie Molly.’
Sarah opened the door of the nursery and they both tiptoed inside. Rowena lay on her back. Her downy blonde hair looked like a halo around her face and her tiny fingers curled above her on the mattress.
‘Oh, the little angel. She is so cute,’ Molly whispered.
‘Sometimes,’ murmured Sarah, recalling the screaming fit that Rowena had had just an hour before, and the state of the kitchen after she’d thrown her bowl of baby porridge on the tiles and the sleepless nights over the past few months and the days she hadn’t even got out of her pyjamas or eaten anything that wasn’t baby rice or Weetabix. Sarah thought she’d known what it was to love someone before Rowena was born, but now she knew she didn’t. The sheer all-consuming love, the terror of losing it. Her mother had told her that no one knew real fear until they had a child. Now she knew why her parents had worried about her and Molly. She knew the dread they’d lived with, that they might lose either one of their daughters. She knew the deep and overwhelming love they had enjoyed for her and Molly.
Molly touched Rowena’s blanket. ‘Oh, she is so-ooo beautiful,’ she whispered.
‘She is now,’ Sarah whispered back.
She stood by the cot, hardly daring to breathe as Molly touched Rowena’s hand very lightly. She still couldn’t believe that Rowena was hers. Hers and Niall’s. He was round at the flat several times a week and peace had finally broken out between him and Sarah. He was a good dad, she gave him that, and she was very happy that he was part of Rowena’s life.
Sarah felt Molly reach for her hand and clasp it tightly, just as she had on her first day at school. They didn’t have to say anything. They each knew the other’s emotions instinctively.
They had cried after Rowena’s birth once they were together without anyone around. Sarah had asked for Molly first. They’d wept buckets; knowing that their mum and dad would never know their granddaughter but that they would have been incredibly proud. Neither Ewan nor Liam could ever understand how that felt. Only she and Molly could share that special yet terrible bond or give each other consolation.
And after they’d cried, they’d wiped their tears away and resolved to look to the future. Molly, Sarah and Rowena. The three of them would manage very well, with or without a man by their sides.
But tonight Sarah sensed a change was coming. Tonight, she thought, for a little while perhaps, she was allowed to be Sarah again, not just a sister and a mummy.
Molly let go of Sarah’s hand and they crept out of the room and back into the sitting room.
Ewan was filling a glass with fizz and smiled as they walked in. ‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘Perfect!’ said Molly.
Sarah showed her crossed fingers. ‘Asleep. Angelic.’
Ewan laughed. ‘Have a drink. You deserve it.’ He handed Sarah a large glass. ‘The first batch of food’s in the oven.’
The doorbell buzzed again. Sarah’s stomach fluttered, but this time there was no Rowena causing her butterflies.
She trotted downstairs and through the workspace to the front door. She was as nervous as a teenager on her first date.
Liam stood on the step wearing a Crombie coat and a dark purple scarf. Snowflakes were landing in his hair.
‘Here you are,’ he said, handing over a silver bottle bag.
‘Are we celebrating?’
‘I hope so.’
Sarah felt shaky as she took the bag. Liam shut the door behind him and walked into the workshop.
‘You have snow in your hair,’ she said, spotting the ice crystals melting.
He reached up and touched his head then looked at his wet fingers. ‘Yes, it’s getting worse. I might be stuck here all night if I’m very lucky.’
Her heart did a little flip. ‘You might be.’
He took the bottle bag from her hands and put it on the work table. A wave of desire raced over her.
‘Oh, Liam …’
Her feelings were mirrored by the longing in his own eyes.
‘I know it’s not midnight yet but do you think,’ he said softly, ‘that it’s too early for a New Year’s kiss?’
Her own voice was husky with emotion. ‘No. Not too early at all.’
They reached for each other at the same time and there was a clatter as boxes of beads tipped onto the tiles, knocked onto the floor in their eagerness to hold each other. Sarah heard hundreds of beads rolling to the four corners of the room while Liam kissed her.
Five months it had been. Five months of longing to see him, of platonic walks along the Backs, and snatched coffees in buggy-friendly cafés, of emails and texts and calls – all at her request, all within her control while the damage of the past few months healed. Months of wondering if Liam would change his mind and not wait for her. He’d waited, of course. How had she ever doubted him?
She shook with the excitement of finally touching him. His coat was rough against her bare arms and his tongue teased its way into her mouth. She hadn’t kissed another man for years, apart from Niall, and it was strange and different but completely wonderful.
At last the kiss ended and she didn’t know who ended it or how but she was resting her cheek on the rough wool of his coat and he whispered, ‘Happy New Year, Sarah.’
‘Happy New Year, Liam.’
‘So, can I finally stop waiting?’ he asked.
She looked right into his eyes. ‘I think so.’
A huge smile spread over his face. ‘You think?’
‘I’m only teasing you. I know I want you, I wanted you months ago but I had to be on my own, to see if I could do it. To be sure.’
‘I was sure from the moment you threw that jug at me.’ He kissed her again and they heard the sound of fireworks popping in the street. Beads crunched under her feet.
‘Oh dear, what a mess,’ said Sarah.
‘Nothing that can’t be cleared up.’
‘Tomorrow.’
She took his hand and picked up the champagne. ‘So, shall we tell Ewan and Molly?’
At the top of the staircase, two gleeful faces appeared, raising glasses of fizz.
Sarah laughed and Liam shook his head, his eyes shining with happiness and desire for her. ‘I think they already know.’
Sarah thought of Rowena snuffling dreamily in her cot, and of the gorgeous, warm and sexy man leading her upstairs. What mattered was not a happy ending but a happy beginning and it couldn’t possibly get any better than this.
THE END
; Acknowledgements
There are two people I want to thank particularly, without whom I could not have written this book.
The first is my author friend, Jane Linfoot who, when I asked on Facebook if anyone had ridden a tandem, turned out to be an experienced rider. Jane made tandem cycling sound exciting, exhilarating and a bit dangerous! I shan’t be having a go any time soon, even if Ewan were my stoker.
The second person is my daughter. Ever since I had the first mad idea for the The Love Solution, she has answered my questions, helped with my research and joined in the spirit of the book with enthusiasm.
She is an expert in her field (genetics), while I’d never set foot in a professional scientific laboratory until I started writing this book. Although the basis of the Love Bug lies in some degree of fact, the story is pure fiction. I’m not a scientist and I’m happy to admit that the only accurate aspects in the novel come from her. All the rest comes from me.
The other part of my research was a lot simpler. Thanks to this book I have learned how to make a passable bead necklace.
My thanks also go to my fantastic publishers, Avon Books, whose patience in helping me get this novel to my readers has been epic.
Thank you, Katie Loughnane and Rachel Faulkner-Willcocks, Helena Newton and the team, for your faith in me and your editorial and marketing help. Thanks too to my agent, Broo Doherty, and my family for believing in me.
Finally, I want to thank my best buddy and bookseller friend, Janice Hume. This book is dedicated to Jan and her late sister, Alison. The thought of seeing their names on the dedication page has driven me on to finish it and see it published.
Hurrah. Finally, we did it.
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About the Author
Ashley Croft is a pseudonym for bestselling women’s fiction author Phillipa Ashley. After studying English at Oxford, Ashley worked as a copywriter and journalist. She now lives in a Staffordshire village and has an engineer husband and scientist daughter who indulge her arty whims. Under her various guises, she has published over twenty novels, including the bestselling Cornish Café series.
To find out more, follow @PhillipaAshley on Twitter and Facebook.
Discover More by Phillipa Ashley:
The Cornish Café Series
Summer at the Cornish Café
Christmas at the Cornish Café
Confetti at the Cornish Café
The Little Cornish Isles Series
Christmas on the Little Cornish Isles: The Driftwood Inn
Spring on the Little Cornish Isles: The Flower Farm
Summer on the Little Cornish Isles: The Starfish Studio
The Porthmellow Series
A Perfect Cornish Summer
A Perfect Cornish Christmas
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