‘There is no “in case”,’ he said. ‘I’m never going to let you down or hurt you. You have my word. And I don’t want to interfere or tell you what to do. But while the cottage is being dried out and repaired, you could start by moving in with me?’
Suddenly the idea seemed a good one. Instead of my mind shying away like a startled pony from the suggestion, I felt a warm certainty that it would be all right. I could place my trust in him, I would be happy with him. We had a future together.
‘So?’ His arms tightened around me, around my soggy clothing, around my sadness.
I gave a huge sigh. One that seemed to come from my soul, cleansing out all the doubts and unhappiness of the past year.
‘Oh yes. Yes, Bryn. I’ve been so miserable thinking about never seeing you again.’
He let out a shaky breath. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no!’
‘What’s the date?’ I said after a moment.
He frowned. ‘Date? I think it’s the 20th November. Why?’
‘I just wondered. It’s my birthday in two weeks.’
‘I know what I’ll be buying you then. I always want to make you happy.’ He kissed my ring finger.
I hugged him, all my previous misery forgotten, and we kissed again. He held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes and I could almost read his thoughts. He pulled me on top of him in the water and my body felt almost weightless, it slid over his as though we had been made for each other.
‘Tell me something,’ I said, ‘something that’s been bothering me.’
‘Anything.’ He kissed my neck,
‘Were you a footballer?’
Bryn frowned. ‘I’ve been known to have a kick about. Why?’
‘Jess said something about you going to Chelsea. I wondered if you…’
Bryn began to laugh, his head thrown back.
Then he hugged me to him.
‘Chelsea Flower Show,’ he said. ‘I entered for the first time this year. Artisan Garden. I didn’t win, but it was a great experience.’
‘Oh,’ I said, feeling a bit silly, ‘of course. I am daft.’
‘You’re a sweetheart.’
‘You’ll have to help me with Holly Cottage’s garden, I have some ideas but I’m not sure where to start.’
‘We’ll start by pulling the fence between the gardens down. We’ll do it together.’
We just looked at each other for a few moments. I would never get tired of his wonderful face, of the love I saw in his eyes.
‘Can I ask just one thing?’ he said at last.
‘Anything. Of course. What?’
‘Can you move that blasted pixie so he’s not aiming at me every time I go outside?’
I laughed. ‘Consider it done. I’ll banish him to the bottom of the garden.’
‘That’s a great relief and it would make me very happy.’ He ran his finger around the neck of my sweater and I saw the expression in his eyes change. ‘I want to make you happy now, Lottie,’ he said. ‘And part of doing that involves getting you indoors and out of those wet clothes. You’ll catch a chill.’
I pulled off my sweater and started unbuttoning my shirt. ‘I wouldn’t want to catch a chill.’
He began to laugh again and after a moment I joined in.
It’s a jolly good job Ivy Cottage was on top of a hill with no other neighbours. Making love in a hot tub, another first for me, was amazing. Jolly cold when we got out afterwards but sexy, sensuous utter bliss. Gradually the lights changed from blue to purple and red and gold. I could feel myself dissolving into absolute pleasure. It felt almost as though I was Bryn and he was me.
As he held me I dropped my head back and looked up at the first stars in the velvet sky and knew that at last, at long last, I was home.
I never did find my ring. Nor did I realise at this point that I was pregnant with the first of our four sons, perhaps the nausea and the dates nagging away at the back of my mind should have been a bit of a clue, but then I had other things distracting me.
And Jenny’s wedding? And Christmas? Oh they were just magical. But that’s another story.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Thanks are firstly due to my agent Annette Green of Annette Green Agency, who loved this book and is obviously very wise, totally brilliant and the best agent anyone could hope for.
Secondly to my editor Rachel Faulkner-Willcocks of Avon who is delightful, dedicated and insightful.
Thank you to Joanne Gledhill for her great copy editing work shovelling away all those commas and picking up the things I missed.
There are of course many others who have supported me, encouraged me and poured me drinks during this process.
Most importantly Jane Ayres, my best friend – without whom life wouldn’t be nearly so much fun.
Debi Alper – author, editrix extraordinaire and stalwart champion of all novice writers.
Chris Manby, who said the right thing at exactly the right moment and taught me to plot properly too.
Claire Dyer, who is filled with talent, kindness and good ideas.
A very special shout out to the Literary Lovelies: a group of writerly friends I met through Twitter who provide invaluable advice, riotous lunches and fabulous support. Jane Ayres, Chris Manby, Susanna Bavin, Catherine Boardman, Karen Coles, Christina Branach, oh and Kirsten Hesketh.
And of course David, Freya, Claudia and James and the rest of my family who I think are probably rather surprised.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Maddie Please was born in Dorset, brought up in Worcestershire and went to university in Cardiff.
Following a career as a dentist, Maddie now writes full time, and lives in Devon with her exceptionally handsome and supportive husband.
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
http://www.harpercollins.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Canada
2 Bloor Street East - 20th Floor
Toronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada
http://www.harpercollins.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London,SE1 9GF
http://www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
195 Broadway
New York, NY 10007
http://www.harpercollins.com
The Summer of Second Chances Page 26