Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane (fiction books to read .txt) 📕

room as her words trailed off, Tom sat next to her on the bed and grabbed both her palms. ‘That Sue and I would spend quality time together after coffee?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Sybil’s scones are good, but as yet I don’t think they have miracle working qualities, and it would take that before I spent longer with Sue than I need to.’ Tom smiled. ‘I know I’m rubbish with women, but even I’m not so low as to take my ex to the place where I first kissed my new partner!’

‘Sorry, Tom,’ Helen sighed, ‘you looked so happy when you headed off to the café. Like a proper family, and what with Dylan… I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.’

‘What with Dylan what?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Come on. Give.’

‘Okay, but it’s me being silly, and I’ve since given myself a firm talking to about it so it isn’t important. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘I felt as if Dylan had forgotten about me. You’d just told me he was keen for me to come for scones, and then, minutes later, I’d been replaced at the café by his mother.’

Tom groaned. ‘He’s only five, he’d never…’

‘I know.’ Helen placed a hand on his knee. ‘As I said, I worked it all out as I walked. You might be rubbish with women, but I’m so inexperienced with men that I haven’t even had time to work out if I’m rubbish or not.’

Tom shifted uncomfortably. ‘These beds are ridiculously small. Can you budge up a bit?’

‘Only if one buttock hangs off the bed.’

‘How about you budge up, and we each hang one buttock off each side of the bed?’

‘As romantic gestures goes, that’s a good ’un.’ Feeling the tension that had built between them disperse, Helen tapped the space next to her on the bed.

Tom moved with more speed than dignity, his head resting next to Helen’s.

‘Good job you’re so slim.’ Helen kept her eyes focused on the window across the room. If she looked at Tom now, she wasn’t sure she could stop what might happen next.

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have sacrificed buttock space for me if I was bigger?’

Helen laughed, but rather than reply she asked how the meeting with Sue went.

‘Apart from Sue offending Sybil, Tina and Mabel, it was a huge hit.’

‘She didn’t?’ Helen turned to face him. ‘How?’

‘Do you mind if I tell you later?’ Tom ran a hand over Helen’s cheek, before taking a single red ringlet, pulled it gently and watched it bounce back into place. ‘You have the most erotic hair in the world.’

‘Do I?’ Rather breathless, Helen found herself picturing her double bed in Bath again as Tom continued to run his fingertips through her curls.

‘Oh yes.’

‘I’ve never thought of my hair as sexy before.’

Tom, suddenly hoarse, whispered, ‘You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.’

‘I bet you say that to all—’

He placed a finger over her lips and shook his head. ‘No. I’ve never said that before, not to anyone. I promise.’

Tears filmed over Helen’s eyes as she whispered, ‘Stay.’

Twenty-one

Sunday March 29th

A warm smile lit Helen’s face as she read the note on the chair next to her bed.

I haven’t ‘gone’ – but I didn’t want Dylan to wake up and wonder where I was. Come for a walk with us today? PTO.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Helen raised herself up on one elbow as she turned the small piece of paper over.

 I think I love you – no – I know I do. Hope that’s OK. xx

Sitting up properly, Helen clutched the note to her chest, before reading it again, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.

‘He loves me.’

She spoke the words shyly. They felt good on her tongue.

The sun shone through the ill-fitting curtains as Helen placed the note back on the table. She felt different.

Lifting her hands up before her, she turned them over, looking at them properly for the first time in years. Far from smooth, they were archaeologists’ hands, with blister marks, permanent calluses and rough skin. The nails were blunt and unpainted.

Helen found herself blushing like a self-conscious teenager as she thought about where those hands had been last night. Then, she found herself lifting the blankets up from the bed, and peering down at the length of her body.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done more than glance at her naked form. Even in a shower or bath, Helen simply ignored herself, concentrating instead on the act of getting clean. Her lumps, bumps, curves and wobbly bits were, in her mind, not dissimilar to a cut through diagram of the Himalayas. Tom had disagreed.

Helen’s body glowed as she remembered exactly how he’d disagreed, and his delight at exploration. He’d made it very clear when she’d told him to prepare himself for disappointment, that he’d been to the Himalayas, and she was even more beautiful than they were.

She was surprised she’d slept. It seemed impossible that she hadn’t lain awake in a mist of heady bliss. Helen blushed again as she lowered the blankets. They’d been energetic to say the least. It was no wonder she’d slept.

A deep growl of her belly reminded Helen she hadn’t eaten for a long time. Leaping out of bed, she gathered the clothes Tom had disposed of with lightning speed, hugging each one to herself, while tutting at herself for being so sentimental.

‘A shower, clean clothes, food and then a walk with my two favourite men.’

Helen picked the note back up. By the time she’d dressed, she’d read it eight times.

*

The ambulance car had been kitted out with so many pills and potions that Mabel felt rather daunted as she led Bert into their cottage. A feeling that increased as the paramedic issued a list of instructions a mile long.

It wasn’t until the paramedic had gone that Bert rested his head back on the cushions and exhaled in relief. Patting the place next to him for Mabel to sit down, he cupped her hand in his.

‘Now before you start, listen to me, my girl.