Chapters (33)
- Cover
- Table of Contents
- About the Author
- Also by Katie Fforde
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Love Letters
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Epilogue
- Other books by this author
Laura considered her carbon footprint for a moment. In theory it would be possible to fly to Dublin once a week and still live in England, but she didn’t really want to send half her life in an airport. No, she would take a chance and relocate.
It sounded almost perfect. There was only one thing that was concerning her now. ‘But I’d still need full-time work, not just part-time.’
‘I’m sure I could make it full-time. I’d need to check my finances but the more I think about it, the more I realise I’ve needed someone like you for a while. It’s time I took on someone full-time.’
She felt flattered. She may have lost her dream man (if she’d ever had him in the first place) but it looked as if she might just be on her way to securing her dream job – or at least the distinct possibility of it. But would she be mad to take it? She had a bit of money: would it tide her over until the work picked up? Moving to Ireland didn’t seem as daunting as it might have once done. She was a different person now. But it was still quite an upheaval.
Seeing Laura’s doubts, Gerald put his hands on the table in a triumphant gesture. ‘I’ve just had an idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I own a couple of holiday cottages on the west coast—’
‘Where on the west coast?’ Laura’s self-preservation antennae went on red alert. If he said Ballyfitzpatrick she’d say no, however wonderful the deal was.
‘Ballymolloy. It’s a really beautiful spot. You might not have seen it though. It’s not very near where Dermot comes from.’
Suddenly it sounded perfect. She smiled broadly. ‘I’d love the chance to see a bit more of Ireland!’
‘Well, the thing is, the holiday cottage isn’t quite ready for visitors yet. There’s still a bit of work going on, decorating and suchlike. If you wouldn’t mind being there while it’s finished, I’d let you have it rent-free.’
She’d once heard that things that sounded too good to be true usually were. ‘That’s a very generous offer and it’s very tempting, but wouldn’t it lull me into a false sense of security? Living rent-free, I’ll get to think I can manage on the money.’ But she was used to living frugally: maybe she could make it work. It was such a great opportunity. And why not – if it didn’t work out she could always come back to England, no lasting harm done.