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Back A Place to Call Home Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. Epilogue
  58. Author’s Note
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. More from Fay Keenan
  61. About the Author
  62. About Boldwood Books

‘Even so, I bet he’ll be surprised,’ Rachel said. ‘And you might end up underneath him for non-mouse related reasons, if you play your cards right!’

Holly snorted. ‘One step at a time. Besides, who says I want that to happen?’

‘Really?’ Rachel raised an eyebrow. ‘I think you and I have both been single for entirely too long, and I’m pretty convinced that, if he’s said yes to Sunday lunch with our folks, he must be keen on you. You could do worse, you know.’

‘I’m perfectly happy as I am, thanks,’ Holly said primly, although, even as she said it, she thought back to the flapping butterflies she’d experienced when Charlie had landed on top of her. And perhaps if she managed Sunday lunch without a hitch, she’d be a little more relaxed the next time he came in for a massage. Finishing her wine glass, she stood up. ‘I’d better go. Weekends have been busy in the shop since the weather got warmer, so I’ll have to open up on time tomorrow.’

‘See you on Sunday, if not before,’ Rachel said, rising and seeing her to the door. ‘And don’t forget to include an aphrodisiac or two on the Sunday lunch menu if you really want to get Charlie’s trousers off again! I’m sure you’ve got a few in the jars in the shop.’

‘No comment.’ Holly grinned as she left. Her sister, when she allowed herself to let go of some of her ever-present worries about Harry, really was incorrigible.

15

Charlie wasn’t quite sure what he’d imagined when he’d thought about Holly’s parents, but something along the lines of Meet the Fockers had sprung to mind pretty soon after he’d met Holly. Surely someone with her passionate belief in all things alternative, spiritual and green could only have sprung from the loins of two hippies, probably full of sixties zeal for free love, peace and the odd spliff?

It came as quite a surprise, then, and not a little relief, that when he came face to face with Mr and Mrs Renton for Sunday lunch, they were conventionally dressed, lived in a spacious four-bedroom bungalow in the suburbs of Willowbury and there wasn’t a dreamcatcher in sight at any of their large, double-glazed windows. He was doubly relieved that he hadn’t brought along a bottle of Monk’s Mead from the independent alcohol retailer on the High Street but had opted instead for a regular bottle of Sancerre, albeit an organic one, just to be on the safe side.

‘So, how are you finding Willowbury life?’ Vivian Renton asked as she handed him a glass of lager, cool from the fridge in the spacious kitchen.

‘It’s been interesting so far,’ Charlie replied, smiling. ‘But in a lot of good ways, of course,’ he added hastily.