by Alice Ross
Crossing the courtyard at the back of Glenduff, Flora couldn’t resist a smile. The place was a hive of activity – sounds of hammering, banging and radios floating out from the outbuildings as they underwent their transformation into little arts and crafts shops. By summer, they should all be ready. Each harbouring their own little occupant – a potter, an artist, a jewellery-maker. The place would be filled with life and abuzz with interesting people. She could scarcely wait. And she was so grateful she had a job to come back to at Glenduff. Her wings might be in desperate need of a stretch, but only a temporary one. The Highlands was where she belonged. And for all she might have taken her life there for granted over the years – exactly as she’d taken Joe for granted – she had no intention of deserting the place long-term.
She reached the tearoom and pushed open the door. She hadn’t seen it since the decorators had been in. With the walls now painted duck-egg blue, the floor covered in slate flags, and a cute little counter in the centre, it looked amazing. Crossing to the counter, she jumped as someone popped up from behind it.
Someone she knew very well.
Joe!
‘Oh,’ she spluttered, almost dropping the box.
‘Oh,’ echoed Joe, looking equally as astounded.
‘Amanda asked me to, um, bring this box over,’ Flora blustered – in the absence of any better ideas.
‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘She asked me to check the radiators. Said a couple were leaking. But I can’t see where—’
They spun round as a key turned in the door and two outlines – looking very much like those of Amanda and Morag – darted past the window.
‘Oh God. I think we’ve been set up,’ puffed Flora, heart now racing faster than the winner at Brands Hatch.
‘Looks like.’
At Joe’s doleful tone, Flora felt sick. He obviously didn’t want to be here with her. In fact, he’d probably prefer to wash his hair in creosote for a week, than be here with her.
All of a sudden, though, his mouth stretched into a grin. One of his lovely grins that she hadn’t realised were quite so lovely until she hadn’t seen one for weeks. The sight made her heart somersault. But then she remembered Amy, and a flood of disappointment rushed through her.
‘How’s Amy?’ she blurted.
Joe’s grin dipped and a crease appeared between his brows. ‘Amy? I have no idea. Why?’
She shrugged. ‘No reason. I just thought you and she were… you know...’
‘Me and Amy?’
Flora nodded and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. ‘I came to talk to you a couple of nights ago, just as you were leaving your house. With Amy.’
Joe shook his head, his expression telling her he had no idea what she was talking about. Then, obviously remembering, ‘Oh. She came to help finish off the curtains on Mum’s sewing machine. Mum couldn’t manage it because her arm was still really sore.’
‘Oh. Right,’ muttered Flora, feeling a total numpty.
Joe walked around the counter and stood before her. ‘You didn’t honestly think I’d have got over you that quickly, did you?’
Flora’s embarrassed gaze dropped to the slate floor. ‘I don’t know. I thought you wanted nothing else to do with me.’
‘I didn’t. For a while. Until I got my head around stuff.’
She snapped her eyes back up to him. ‘And have you? Got your head around stuff?’
He nodded. ‘I have. And I feel terrible. I never should have proposed to you in front of the entire village like that. It was a stupid thing to do.’
‘No it wasn’t. A bit rash maybe. But not stupid.’
He took a step nearer. ‘I realise now that you were right. We are far too young. And you do need to spread your wings. I know I’m one of life’s great plodders, but you’re not. You need to do things. Get out of Aberboyne for a bit.’
‘I am,’ she admitted diffidently. ‘I’m going to Rome. For six months. Kenneth Dunlop has a small hotel there. He wants to take some time off and has asked me to help run it for him.’
Joe blinked. ‘Blimey. That’s… great.’
‘Is it?’
He nodded. ‘It’s supposed to be dead romantic Italy, isn’t it?’
‘Dead romantic,’ confirmed Flora, gazing into his eyes.
Joe shuffled closer and took hold of her upper arms. ‘Which means, when I come out to visit, that I might pick up a few tips. Like how to propose properly next time. Although it will definitely just be the two of us then. So, if you say no, I won’t feel a complete arse.’
‘There’ll be no danger of that,’ said Flora, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. ‘Because next time I won’t say no.’
Epilogue
Princess Flora and her handsome prince, Joe, lived happily ever after – without any wasp stings, absolutely no dragons (apart from the odd run-in with Mrs Mack), and some very nice wallpaper.
The End
Flora Hamilton ,
Age 23 (in six weeks)
Thank You
Dear Reader
Thank you so much for buying my book
I hope you enjoyed taking a look
Now if you don’t mind
And would be so kind
To pop a little review on the sites so designed
It makes a huge difference to us writers
To hear through your words, how much you liked us
I really appreciate you taking the time
To learn that you liked it, will make me smile.
With very best wishes
Alice x
Coming Soon
The Cosy Castle on the Loch: Summer