Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange Jenny Kane (best romantic books to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Jenny Kane
Book online «Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange Jenny Kane (best romantic books to read .txt) 📖». Author Jenny Kane
‘I was trying to!’ Suddenly angry, Thea’s hands gripped her hips. ‘Okay then, how’s this for why. I think Julian wants me to replace you as the presenter of the show.’
‘What?’ Shaun sagged back against the nearest tree.
Stepping forward, determined not to soften too fast, Thea lowered her voice, speaking with quiet determination. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Shaun. I have no evidence, just a hunch, and as I’d never rob the man I love of his job in a million years, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it to be a fact. But get this straight – I DO NOT FANCY JULIAN.’
As Shaun’s mouth opened, Thea held up her hand. ‘And, before you jump in again, I wish I had told you straight away. The only reason I didn’t was because I did not want to hurt you if my hunch was wrong.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘Something I have well and truly cocked up.’
Shaun said nothing. He just stared at her for so long that eventually Thea was compelled to fill the silence.
‘I don’t trust Julian. What I overheard him say on the phone could have been him lying to someone. And, while we’re at it, if you think for a single second that I’d do a thing to hurt Ajay, Andy or any of the Landscape Treasures team, or you, then you can carry on walking without me!’
The sound of the birds chatting to each other in the trees around them suddenly seemed abnormally loud as Thea waited for Shaun to respond. She was cold despite the sunshine that furled through the gaps in the overhanging branches of the mix of oak, pine and ash that dotted the landscape they’d run into. Her sock covered feet were scratched and sore.
Finally, Shaun spoke. ‘You said you didn’t want to tell me about Julian potentially replacing me with you until you knew it to be a fact.’
‘Yes.’
‘That implies you were planning to spend time with him to do just that.’
‘What? No!’ Thea shook her head. ‘That isn’t what I meant at all. I wanted to talk to you about what to do and—’
‘But you didn’t, Thea. Did you?’
Thea watched as Shaun stalked deeper into the trees. This time she didn’t follow him.
Thirty-seven
Tuesday April 7th
Helen sat on the side of her bed and listened. Nothing stirred. It had been at least four hours since Tina and Sam had returned from having dinner with Bert and Mabel, and as she hadn’t seen Shaun or Thea since lunchtime, she assumed they’d retired to their bedroom on the floor below ages ago.
She couldn’t hear any movement from the room next door where, she assumed, Tom and Dylan were fast asleep.
Helen checked her watch. It was three minutes to midnight. Her bag had been packed for an hour, although there were still piles of notes on the chair by the window. If she didn’t pack them, perhaps she wasn’t really going to leave.
The hands of her watch ticked on another minute.
‘If I’m going, I need to go now.’
Helen’s mouth was dry and her eyes felt dull with tears long shed, which had dried in streaks across her face. She hadn’t bothered rubbing over where they made her skin feel tight.
It had been the picture that had been the final straw. The nudge she’d needed to stop avoiding what was becoming increasingly obvious. She hadn’t been reading the signs wrong, no matter how much she wished she hadn’t.
All the phone calls Tom had been taking. They can’t all have been work or wedding stuff. Tom must have claimed they were to save her feelings. He was merely trying to soften the blow before admitting Sue had worn him down and he’d agreed to go back to her for Dylan’s sake.
Helen closed her eyes. Dylan’s happy face appeared behind her eyelids.
They’d had so much fun wandering around the house and grounds all day; finding egg sized hidey-holes. Dylan had drawn a rough map with lots of little x’s on it. Declaring he’d created a treasure map, he’d been making pirate noises with hilarious results, when he’d suddenly got extra excited, run over to where his dad was typing into his laptop and borrowed his phone. Seconds later, Dylan was back, proudly showing Helen a photograph of a painting.
It was obviously Mill Grange. But it was the three figures that had twisted the knife in Helen’s gut as Dylan effused about how his painting had pride of place over the art room table.
Mum, dad and son.
Helen still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to make all the right noises, telling Dylan how clever he was, before guiding him back to his father with claims of an abrupt headache.
By the time she was in her room, the headache was real, so when Tom put his head around the door an hour later to see if she was alright, she didn’t have to lie about feeling a bit rough.
He’d sat next to her for a while, his palm soothing her forehead, his fingers teasing out her fringe. She’d wanted to ask him about the painting, but the words stuck in her throat. She hadn’t wanted to hear him tell her about the sacrifice he was going to make for his son.
The hands of her watch clicked on. One minute to midnight.
The sound of Sue’s voice talking to Tom nudged itself to the forefront of Helen’s mind as she stood up. I think we owe him some proper family time, don’t you?
She picked up the ring of keys that had sat
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