Page 115 of Best Summer Ever

‘What?’ I frowned.

‘We are good together, aren’t we?’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling in his throat.

‘So good,’ I agreed.

‘And I’m not just talking about in bed,’ he said and my heart stuttered. ‘I think we make a pretty good team all round, don’t you?’

He couldn’t have given me any clearer an indication that his feelings for me stretched beyond the reaches of what you would expect from a fun summer fling and I was keen to let him know that I felt the same way too.

‘Hey! Watch out!’ someone shouted, just as a beach ball came flying across the dune, hit my head and toppled our open water bottle over.

Josh snatched up my book, saving it from a soaking and I grabbed my phone.

‘I’m sorry,’ said a young boy who came racing up, scattering sand to retrieve the ball. ‘Dad kicked that, not me.’

‘No worries,’ I said, handing it back to him and feeling relieved that Josh and I hadn’t been indulging in a moment of passion.

Josh set the now-empty bottle upright again on the sand.

‘Shall we make a move?’ he suggested, as the family game of football taking place just below us escalated in volume. ‘I daresay you want to check you’ve got flowers to sell tomorrow, don’t you?’

I did, but I would have much preferred to carry on our conversation.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Yes, everything was looking fine earlier, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another look. Do you fancy staying with me tonight?’

‘I’d love to,’ he said and I hoped I’d be able to set the scene to tell him that I was in complete agreement about us being good together – in bed and beyond. ‘But I promised Algy I’d watch some home videos he’s found. He reckons I might be in a couple of them.’

‘Oh, that’s amazing. I hope you are on tape somewhere.’

I was disappointed that we wouldn’t be spending the night under the same roof, but knew that continuing the process of piecing his past together was something that would make Josh happy. Anything Algy could offer him that would connect him to Wynbrook was always going to be welcome because his father’s desire to move him about when he was growing up had ensured he had endured a very fractured childhood.

‘I’d love to see you running about the place in a nappy,’ I laughed, thinking how cute Josh must have been as a toddler.

‘Are you teasing me?’ he laughed back.

‘Absolutely,’ I said, standing up and brushing the sand off my shorts.

‘Well, I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he said, grabbing my ankle and making me screech. ‘Because I bet your parents have got far more embarrassing baby photos and videos of you than Algy has of me!’

‘Oh, crikey,’ I grimaced, remembering some less than flattering haircuts I’d been subjected to and the mortifying school photos that chronicled them. ‘I didn’t think of that!’

Chapter 27

The next day was cool and cloudy, perfect for a day working in the sheltered wall garden. There weren’t that many customers, so I was able to get some further tying in and sorting out done, which gave me ample opportunity to mull over what Josh had said in the dunes and wonder how I could stop him from asking my parents to see the photos they had of me growing up, on the pretence of wanting to feel more a part of the Wynbrook family.

On the journey back to the estate, when I had said sulkily that this wasn’t a fair tactic, he had grinned mischievously. ‘Whatever works!’ he said.

I had a feeling that taking a look further into my childhood was something he wasn’t going to forget about and I eventually decided I would simply have to embrace the situation. So, at the end of the day, when a lingering customer had finally left – there was always one who turned up at the last gasp and then dithered over making a decision about their preferred colour palette – I locked the gate and headed to Mum and Dad’s cottage.

Knowing now that even Mum had warmed to Josh, I thoughtit would be nice for the four of us to spend a proper evening together. Dad was Wynbrook born and bred, so he would be able to fill Josh in further about the history of the estate and its running, and if I was present when the collection of photo albums came out, I would at least be able to have a chance at vetoing the very worst ones.

‘Whatever works,’ I laughed to myself, feeling pleased with my crafty plan.

There was a ridiculously sleek car parked outside the cottage that I didn’t recognise, but I didn’t let that temper the spring in my step and I bowled up the path feeling full of bonhomie and buoyed up by the good time I was currently having back at home.

That was, until I reached the door and recognised the voice that answered Mum’s question about wanting another cup of tea.

‘No, thank you, Janet,’ it confidently said, though how its owner had the arrogance to sound confident was beyond me. ‘Do you think Robin and Daisy will be much longer?’

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