Life Class
Page 40
‘I knew it was a mad idea.’
‘Even with planning permission, the cost-benefit analysis for removing so many trees didn’t pan out. They cut their losses. It was relief in a way, a weight off my shoulders.’
‘So, what are you planning to do now?’
‘If nothing else, I thought I could consider your suggestion of running classes and workshops. And investigate the sculpture park idea. I’ve been looking into taking out a second mortgage. But with you on board?’
Dory let out a breath. ‘No need for a second mortgage, I have money. I want to invest it in you. We can’t fail! I’ll do up the cottage and in the future, if things go well … it’ll be there for Dom to move into when he needs his independence.’
‘Things will go well. And maybe, Dom moving out will free up his present room for …’
‘For what?’
‘We’ve both lost out in the past. Maybe we’re not too old.’
His smiling face blurred. ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ she asked shakily. Their arms tightened around one another.
‘Just another idea to add into the mix. What do you think?’
‘I believe in you,’ she said shakily. ‘I believe in us. Anything’s possible.’
‘What’ve you been doing all this time?’ Her sister’s voice intruded. ‘You are coming to lunch? Oh!’ A caricature of shock and surprise, Fran stood at the door, her face flushed, eyes wide. Dory and Stefan pulled apart.
‘Sorry, Fran.’ Dory wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. There’d be nothing left of the lipstick she’d reapplied. She looked up at Stefan, whose arms were still closely wrapped around her. He was smiling.
‘I already asked you about lunch but you didn’t give me an answer.’
Stefan’s smile broadened to a grin. ‘Lunch sounds good.’
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Published by Accent Press Ltd 2015
ISBN 9781783752539
Copyright © Gilli Allan 2015
The right of Gilli Allan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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