Authors: Katie Fforde
Artistic Licence
Katie Fforde lives in Gloucestershire with her husband and some of her three children. Recently her old hobbies of ironing and housework have given way to singing, Flamenco dancing and husky racing. She claims this keeps her fit.
Praise for Katie Fforde
‘A fairytale-like, gently witty read … Heart-warming – made for sunny days in the park’
Cosmopolitan
‘The mother-daughter bond the women develop is endearing and the heartache caused by a failed long marriage touchingly conveyed’
Sunday Telegraph
‘Acute and funny observations of the social scene’
The Times
‘A heart-warming tale of female friendship, fizzing with Fforde’s distinctive brand of humour’
Sunday Express
‘Delicious – gorgeous humour and the lightest of touches’
Sunday Times
‘A witty and generous romance … Katie Fforde is on sparkling form … Jilly Cooper for the grown-ups’
Independent
Further praise for Katie Fforde
‘Fforde’s light touch succeeds in making this a sweet and breezy read – the ideal accompaniment to a long summer’s evening’
Daily Mail
‘Old-fashioned romance of the best sort … funny, comforting’
Elle
‘The romance fizzes along with good humour and is a good, fat, summery read’
Sunday Mirror
‘Joanna Trollope crossed with Tom Sharpe’
Mail on Sunday
‘A spirited summer read that’s got to be Fforde’s best yet’
Woman & Home
‘Can be scoffed at one sitting … Tasty’
Cosmopolitan
‘Perfect holiday reading. Pack it with the swimsuit and suntan lotion’
Irish Independent
‘Fforde is blessed with a lightness of touch, careful observation and a sure sense of the funny side of life’
Ideal Home
‘Top drawer romantic escapism’
You
‘Warm, witty and entertaining … as satisfying as a cup of hot cocoa on a chilly night’
Woman & Home
‘Katie Fforde produces gentle cheering comedies that feature heroines whose waistlines are not what they were and who are gifted with humorous self-deprecation’
Sunday Times
‘Katie Fforde writes entertainingly about country life – and love’
Woman’s Journal
‘Lively and engaging’
Woman’s Weekly
‘Perfect for the beach’
Bella
‘Entertainingly written – a fine romance indeed’
The Lady
‘Bright and airy’
Closer
‘A perfect piece of curl-up-on-the-sofa reading’
Real
‘A funny, fresh and lively read’
heat
Also by Katie Fforde
Living Dangerously
The Rose Revived
Stately Pursuits
Wild Designs
Life Skills
Thyme Out
Highland Fling
Paradise Fields
Restoring Grace
Flora’s Lot
Practically Perfect
Going Dutch
Wedding Season
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781446428191
Published by Arrow Books 2009
13 15 17 19 20 18 16 14 12
Copyright © Katie Fforde 2001
Katie Fforde has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel 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
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
First published in Great Britain in 2001 by Century
Arrow Books
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be
found at:
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099415282
Contents
To Lyn Cluer-Coleman and to
The Stroud House Gallery.
With much love.
Acknowledgements
To Sue Wilson, photographer, Gilli Allan, writer and travelling companion (who isn’t bossy and doesn’t snore), and to Jane and Alan Ford for an idea. To Pam and Julian Swindell for taking us to Hollow Cottage in County Mayo. To Aix-en-Provence and New York for being so wonderful. But mostly to Lyn Cluer-Coleman for creating The Stroud House Gallery and letting me watch.
Chapter One
Thea was standing in the rubbish bin, trying to crush its contents enough to get the lid on, when she heard people approaching down the hallway. They were talking.
‘Come into the kitchen and excuse the mess, it’s always a tip,’ she heard as she crushed a pizza box beneath her heel.
Petal, her youngest and most demanding lodger, followed by a man Thea had never seen before, entered the kitchen.
‘Hi, Thea! What
are
you doing in there?’ Petal said, curious but not interested enough to hear the answer. ‘This is my Uncle Ben. Oh, that’s my phone.’
While Petal searched in her bag for her fifth limb, Thea tried to step out of the waste bin without falling over. There was nothing to be ashamed of in compacting takeaway cartons, cereal packets and Pringle’s tubes, thus reducing landfill, but she could have done without witnesses. Petal, having dived on her mobile phone like a gull on a fast-food leftover, went out of the room, talking hard.
Thea, unreasonably annoyed, reached for the wall to balance herself. The bin teetered and her foot penetrated the layer of cardboard to the substratum of detritus beneath. Trying to pull herself free, the heel of
her shoe caught round the loop of a drinks can holder and Thea began to lose her balance. For an instant she had an image of herself lying prostrate on the floor, surrounded by eggshells, banana skins and coffee grounds. She put out a hand, groping for something to hold on to, but couldn’t reach the wall.
The stranger, seeing her predicament, crossed the room and caught the flailing hand and then her body, steadying the bin and holding Thea upright.
Maybe, if she hadn’t been in such a bad mood, she could have seen the funny side and laughed up at him. As it was, she just blushed furiously while he supported her, unwilling to see if he was laughing at her. ‘Thank you so much,’ she muttered to the bin, as she rammed the lid back on. ‘What a ridiculous thing to have happened.’
Petal quite often managed to make Thea feel more disagreeable than the most caricatured seaside landlady and she felt very tempted to tell her so-called uncle that it was all Petal’s fault; she had promised to get some new bin liners, having used up Thea’s entire roll. But although this was the truth, it would be extremely petty, and it was bad enough to appear bad-tempered and ridiculous in front of strangers without being small-minded as well.
‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘It could happen to anyone.’
To anyone foolish enough to climb into a rubbish bin, she thought, but didn’t say. To direct his attention away from the tea bag that had got trapped down the side of her shoe, Thea nodded towards Petal. ‘That girl burns the telephone at both ends. I hope it doesn’t fry her brain.’
Petal’s uncle, who had been surveying Thea and her
surroundings with a sort of mystified concentration, said, ‘Possibly it already has.’
Thea struggled to get her usual good humour back, but it was difficult. He was tall and dark, with deep-set eyes, and it was easy to take his quiet, serious demeanour as disapproval. She wished she could tell him to go and wait for Petal in the hall, but unfortunately she was chronically hospitable, unable to have people in her house, however unwelcome and uninvited, without offering them food or drink. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea?’ She slid the kettle over to the hot part of the Rayburn. She was desperate for a cup herself and didn’t feel she could have one if he didn’t join her.