We all are.’
‘Not just so I can babysit?’
‘Of course not! As if.’
Gina chuckled. She loved her nieces and although she found them fairly exhausting she always liked spending time with them. ‘I think I am a country girl at heart and it is so much cheaper renting here than in London.’ She paused. ‘But no matchmaking, you hear? If ever there comes a time when I think I might be ready for another relationship – say in about ten years—’
‘When you’ll be forty, nearly past child-bearing.’
‘—I’ll either let you know or go on the internet.’
‘That’s so unromantic!’
‘Good. I’ve had it with romance.’
‘You haven’t really. Everyone has a romantic side, they just don’t want to acknowledge it.’
Gina raised her eyebrows and tried not to smile. It was her sister who was the romantic. She herself was a hard-bitten businesswoman who had a living to earn. She had absolutely no space for romance in her life, now or at any time in the future. Falling in love had been a disaster. From now on her head would rule her heart, and just to be sure, she’d avoid relationships altogether.
‘Now I know that you are never going near another man, is it safe to wonder what this Matthew Ballinger might be like?’ Sally continued. ‘Is he young or old? Same age as Aunt Rainey, do you think?’
‘He sounded middle-aged. And no, I couldn’t tell from his voice if he was married or single.’
‘I didn’t ask!’
‘Did Aunt Rainey ever talk about him? When she came to visit?’
Sally screwed up her face in thought. ‘Not that I can remember, but I had the babies and they took up most of the conversation, one way or another.’
‘I asked Dad on the phone if he knew anything about him. He didn’t. He did say that Rainey was prone to having younger men hanging round after her though.’
‘Perhaps he’s one of her young lovers.’ Sally sighed. ‘Maybe when I’m sixty-odd I’ll have young lovers.’
Gina laughed. ‘Not if Alaric is still around you won’t!’
* * *
Cranmore-on-the-Green was a Cotswold town known for its historic, picturesque buildings, antiques, tea shops and tourists. Now, on this bright, autumn day, it was bustling with people taking advantage of a few days of late sunshine.
Gina and Sally had found a huge car park seemingly miles from the town centre and, after a few minutes of struggle and ‘want to walk’, they managed to get both the girls strapped into the double buggy. The little party then made its way through the crowds.
‘You’ve never been to the French House, have you?’ said Gina.
Sally shook her head. ‘No. Cranmore-on-the-Green doesn’t have a supermarket, so I don’t need to come very often, and there are so many antiques shops and centres I wouldn’t know it if I had seen it. I always send Alaric’s parents there for a little trip out when they stay. They love it. But I’ve got a little map so we should be able to find it quite easily.
‘It’s a shame he couldn’t have the girls,’ she went on, steering the buggy into the road to make way for a group of elderly women who had obviously had lunch in the pub and were now trying to find the coach park.
‘No, it’s good that he couldn’t,’ Gina said firmly. ‘He had to meet a client which might result in a good commission.’ Gina felt her artistic, romantic sister and brother-in-law needed to be bit more businesslike and sometimes became over businesslike to compensate. She secretly thought of them as the Flopsy Bunnies, ‘improvident and cheerful’.
‘Yes, but not everyone likes children and we do want this meeting to go well,’ said Sally, hefting the buggy back on to the pavement.
‘Oh come on. They’re adorable. Anyway, we’re only going to be five minutes , I expect. Here we are, the French House.’
‘Goodness!’ said Sally. They stared up at the building, which was old, stately and huge. It was different from the Georgian buildings on either side, the
‘Not just so I can babysit?’
‘Of course not! As if.’
Gina chuckled. She loved her nieces and although she found them fairly exhausting she always liked spending time with them. ‘I think I am a country girl at heart and it is so much cheaper renting here than in London.’ She paused. ‘But no matchmaking, you hear? If ever there comes a time when I think I might be ready for another relationship – say in about ten years—’
‘When you’ll be forty, nearly past child-bearing.’
‘—I’ll either let you know or go on the internet.’
‘That’s so unromantic!’
‘Good. I’ve had it with romance.’
‘You haven’t really. Everyone has a romantic side, they just don’t want to acknowledge it.’
Gina raised her eyebrows and tried not to smile. It was her sister who was the romantic. She herself was a hard-bitten businesswoman who had a living to earn. She had absolutely no space for romance in her life, now or at any time in the future. Falling in love had been a disaster. From now on her head would rule her heart, and just to be sure, she’d avoid relationships altogether.
‘Now I know that you are never going near another man, is it safe to wonder what this Matthew Ballinger might be like?’ Sally continued. ‘Is he young or old? Same age as Aunt Rainey, do you think?’
‘He sounded middle-aged. And no, I couldn’t tell from his voice if he was married or single.’
‘I didn’t ask!’
‘Did Aunt Rainey ever talk about him? When she came to visit?’
Sally screwed up her face in thought. ‘Not that I can remember, but I had the babies and they took up most of the conversation, one way or another.’
‘I asked Dad on the phone if he knew anything about him. He didn’t. He did say that Rainey was prone to having younger men hanging round after her though.’
‘Perhaps he’s one of her young lovers.’ Sally sighed. ‘Maybe when I’m sixty-odd I’ll have young lovers.’
Gina laughed. ‘Not if Alaric is still around you won’t!’
* * *
Cranmore-on-the-Green was a Cotswold town known for its historic, picturesque buildings, antiques, tea shops and tourists. Now, on this bright, autumn day, it was bustling with people taking advantage of a few days of late sunshine.
Gina and Sally had found a huge car park seemingly miles from the town centre and, after a few minutes of struggle and ‘want to walk’, they managed to get both the girls strapped into the double buggy. The little party then made its way through the crowds.
‘You’ve never been to the French House, have you?’ said Gina.
Sally shook her head. ‘No. Cranmore-on-the-Green doesn’t have a supermarket, so I don’t need to come very often, and there are so many antiques shops and centres I wouldn’t know it if I had seen it. I always send Alaric’s parents there for a little trip out when they stay. They love it. But I’ve got a little map so we should be able to find it quite easily.
‘It’s a shame he couldn’t have the girls,’ she went on, steering the buggy into the road to make way for a group of elderly women who had obviously had lunch in the pub and were now trying to find the coach park.
‘No, it’s good that he couldn’t,’ Gina said firmly. ‘He had to meet a client which might result in a good commission.’ Gina felt her artistic, romantic sister and brother-in-law needed to be bit more businesslike and sometimes became over businesslike to compensate. She secretly thought of them as the Flopsy Bunnies, ‘improvident and cheerful’.
‘Yes, but not everyone likes children and we do want this meeting to go well,’ said Sally, hefting the buggy back on to the pavement.
‘Oh come on. They’re adorable. Anyway, we’re only going to be five minutes , I expect. Here we are, the French House.’
‘Goodness!’ said Sally. They stared up at the building, which was old, stately and huge. It was different from the Georgian buildings on either side, the
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