by Rosie Green
But he’ll be getting ready to leave for Jamaica any time now . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
On Saturday, I’m at Brambleberry Manor twenty minutes before my first tour is due to kick off at ten.
It’s the first week in September and although it’s bright and the sun is shining, already I can feel a change in the air, as if summer is preparing to bow out to Autumn.
After hanging up my jacket and bag, I go in search of Lady R, wanting to find out if she really is as loved-up as Fen says she is. I find her in the library, sitting in one of the comfy high-back leather chairs, reading a book about life in Georgian times. Her husband, Lord R, is reading The Times newspaper. When I knock and enter, Lady R says, ‘Ah, Jaz. I heard about your dreadful experience at the airport. So glad you got Titch back.’
‘Thank you.’ I smile and depart for my tour. With Lord R in the room, I’m not likely to hear her thoughts on her reunion with her husband. But they look pretty happy.
At lunchtime, I wander out into the grounds and sit on a bench overlooking the lake to eat my sandwiches. But I seem to have lost my appetite so instead, I stare out over the water trying not to think about the fact that I’ve probably lost Harry as well.
Lady R interrupts my gloomy thoughts.
‘What do you think of these, Jaz?’ She hands me some photos of the exterior of the manor, with the lovely display of pink roses climbing up one side. ‘Harry dropped them off. He’s going to take more internal shots after lunch for our new public relations campaign.’
I pause with my sandwich half way to my mouth. ‘Harry’s here?’
‘Er, yes.’ She glances around. ‘He went off to – well, I’m not sure. He said something about trying out the zip wire?’
‘Really? Isn’t he going to be working in London, then?’
‘I don’t think so. At least, he’s never mentioned anything to me.’
My heart is beating so loudly, she must be able to hear it.
‘Maybe you should go and find him?’ Lady R gives me an expressive wink and I blush with surprise. ‘I do like a happy ending.’ She smiles enigmatically and wanders off.
Heart beating crazily, I walk round the side of the manor to the children’s playground. Sure enough, Harry is there, sitting on a bench, staring up at the zip wire.
When he sees me, his face breaks out into a huge smile that makes my legs feel weak and trembly. I sit down beside him.
‘I thought you were going to Jamaica on a photographic assignment?’
‘I was. But it was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction, really. I thought you were going back to Grant.’ He smiles sheepishly.
‘Well, happily, I’m not.’ I smile back, leaping with joy inside at the thought that Harry isn’t leaving for London after all. I nod at the zip wire. ‘So are you going to try it?’
He stares up into the trees then looks back at me. ‘I thought I might.’
I nod. ‘Maybe I will, too.’
‘I thought you liked to keep your feet on the ground.’
I shrug. ‘Perhaps it’s time to try something new. Maybe it’ll be fun – if I’m with the right person.’
He nods. ‘Interesting theory. Do you think you might have found the right person, then?’
Our eyes meet and I nod, smiling. ‘Come on. Let’s do it.’
So we climb up into the trees and stand on the launch deck. Harry goes first at my insistence. I watch him as he goes, a long way into the distance. Then it’s my turn.
I get into the harness, making sure it’s fixed tightly.
Then I take a deep breath and take off, soaring through the air, my hair flying behind me, shrieking with the sheer joy of it.
The feeling of being free is intoxicating and exhilarating.
Harry catches me at the other end.
‘Why did I never do this before?’ I say, laughing with delight. ‘Can we go again?’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he grins. ‘But first - ’ He pulls me towards him and I’m shrieking all over again, except this time it’s because Harry’s wrestling me to the ground and lying on top of me and kissing me until my head spins.
The zip wire will just have to wait . . .
EPILOGUE
It’s September, the end of the summer, which is – as Ellie says – as good an excuse as any for a tea party picnic on the grass outside the café.
All my newest friends are here.
Ellie and Zak, of course, with Maisie, who’s playing happily with her new friend, Titch. It’s lucky neither Maisie nor Titch suffer from allergies because the lawn was recently mown and at the present moment, they’re haring around throwing handfuls of grass at each other and trying to stuff it down each other’s T-shirts.
Titch isn’t Titch any more. She’s decided she wants to be called by her real name - Summer. I think it really suits her. My heart lifts as I watch her racing free on the lawn, just being a kid. She’s had a really hard time of it but maybe now things can settle down a bit. Being part of her life is such a joy and a privilege.
Sylvia and Mick are being treated like royalty. They’ve been given a proper table and chairs, which Ellie dragged out of the café specially. The rest of us are ‘slumming it’, lounging around on picnic rugs and enjoying Fen’s wonderful baking. (The fresh raspberry Pavlova has gone down particularly well.)
Fen is here, of course, with Mick’s grandson, Robert, who she’s dated a few times since they met at the Brambleberry Manor launch last month. They seem to get on really well, although I suspect she’s finding it hard getting Ethan Fox out of her mind. It’s just a feeling. I may be entirely wrong and Robert might turn out to be the one for her. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see . . .
The evocative scent of a bonfire drifts over to us. It makes me think of autumn – with Christmas not too far behind it.
Last festive season was the worst of my life. But this year, it promises to be wonderful. Lady R really is her own worst enemy at times. She’s taken it upon herself to invite us all for lunch on Christmas Day. I’m hoping she’ll get the caterers in but it really wouldn’t surprise me if she was to roll up her sleeves and do it all herself. Amazingly, Lord R hasn’t uttered a word of complaint about his wife’s Christmas arrangements – I suspect because he’s just so happy they’re reunited.
Evelyn will be there and so will Summer. The two of them will travel to Sunnybrook and stay in my flat for the festive season – and I really can’t wait.
Grant is serving twelve months for embezzlement, although they say he could be released as early as January. I don’t feel any anger towards him now. I just feel sorry for him. We’re talking again, which is good – and that’s mainly because he’s sorting himself out and having counselling. He wrote me an actual letter telling me how sorry he was for everything but that for Summer’s sake, he was determined to kick his destructive habits for good. He’ll certainly have plenty of time to think things through (soberly) where he is right now. I have high hopes, for Summer, that he will be true to his word.
Harry is lounging on the rug next to me, feeding me mouthfuls of Pavlova and refusing to take photographs, despite us all begging him to, because he says it would be like a busman’s holiday. The weather has cooled down quite a bit so I’m wearing his favourite outfit for the occasion, which obviously I had to borrow from Jules. He says he feels quite sentimental about the tassles, bare legs and cowboy boots.
They remind him of when we met . . .
Dear Reader
Thank you so much for choosing Summer at The Little Duck Pond Café!
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it – and if you did, I would appreciate it so much if you were to write a short review and post in on Amazon. Just a few lines would be wonderful and would make all the difference!
You might be interested to know that you’ll have the opportunity to pay a third visit to The Little Duck Pond Café very soon. Christmas at The Little Duck Pond Café will be published in September �
� a really cosy, sparklingly festive story about learning to be proud of who you are!
In the meantime, happy reading!
Rosie
XX
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my lovely family and friends who have supported me whole-heartedly in this latest adventure of mine. I might have been able to do it without you, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as exciting or enjoyable!
Special mention to Cara Armstrong, who edited the manuscript so brilliantly, and to the very talented cover designer, Berni Stevens, who turned my sketchy idea into something so perfect and eye-catching!
The adventure is just beginning . . .