Page 58 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
Callum reaches out his hand and gently tucks back a piece of my hair that’s escaped from the ponytail I’d loosely tied it up in before we set off in search of Robin.
‘You pretend to be one thing, when really I think you’re something very different entirely.’
‘Go on?’ I whisper again. It was averylong time since I’d allowed any man to stand this close to me, and even when they had before I definitely hadn’t ever felt anything like I was feeling right now. I was in a losing battle with myself.
‘I can’t explain it,’ Callum says, still in his low, incredibly sexy voice, and his eyes travel over my face. ‘There’s just something about you. Something I want to know more about. Something I think I’m going to enjoy discovering . . . ’
Callum leans in towards me, and for one terrifying but blissful moment I think he’s actually going to kiss me. But the sound of a phone ringing stops him.
‘Damn!’ Callum says, pulling away and reaching into his pocket. ‘Hold that thought.’ He glances at the screen andimmediately puts the phone to his ear. ‘Hey, Jonah,’ he says. He looks at me while he listens, and then as Jonah speaks his face changes from relaxed to fraught. ‘What?’ he says, hurriedly pulling back his shirt sleeve so he can see his sports watch. ‘I had no idea . . . Can you start them off and I’ll get there as soon as I can. Yes, I know, I know. I’m sorry.’
He ends the call and looks at me with a face full of panic and remorse. ‘I’ve missed the start of evensong,’ he says, looking around for his coat. ‘We’ve only just started doing it on a Sunday. It’s for the choir really, but it’s been quite popular with some of the parishioners.’
‘Oh gosh, I’m sorry,’ I say, meaning it. I hurriedly fetch his coat from where I’d hung it in the hall and return it to him.
‘Thanks,’ Callum says, pulling it on. ‘I’m sorry I have to go.’ He pauses for a moment and looks at me. ‘There was something I wanted to ask you.’
‘Really?’ I say, thinking I probably knew what it might be.
‘Yes, and then we got . . . well . . . sidetracked.’
‘Oh.’ Maybe I didn’t know, then.
‘I wanted to ask what you know about the Easter Bunny.’
Seventeen
‘Run that past me again,’ Hannah says with a smile as we sit together on the sofa on Friday evening. ‘You’re going to do what?’
I give my daughter a meaningful look; she knew exactly what I’d just said. ‘Early on Sunday morning I’m going to help the church hide the eggs ready for the Easter egg hunt they always have around the village.’
‘No, not that bit,’ Hannah says, still grinning. ‘Theotherpart.’
I roll my eyes; Hannah has been a mischief maker since she was small. Matt was always the quieter of my two children, and would often get cajoled into his sister’s childhood pranks. I sigh. ‘Everyone hiding the eggs has to dress up as rabbits.’
‘Notjustrabbits, Mum. The Easter Bunny, no less!’ Hannah says with great delight.
‘So? You believed in the Easter Bunny when you were small. You loved hunting for eggs on Easter morning.’
‘I know, but I never thought I’d see my mother dressing up as it.’
I shrug and take a sip of the wine Hannah brought with her; we’d opened it to have with our dinner this evening – a homemade lasagne that I’d found a recipe for in one of Evelyn’s cookery books. It wasn’t anything fancy, but Hannah had been impressed I’d cooked it myself, and I’d been amazed that it had actually been edible.
‘There’s something more to this, isn’t there?’ she asks knowingly.
‘No, I’m just helping out, that’s all.’
‘Hmm . . . ’
‘What’s wrong with helping out my local church?’
‘You’ve never been religious before, have you?’
‘It’s not to do with religion,’ I say hurriedly, ‘it’s to do with helping out the village. Everyone has been so kind to me since I got here. It’s the least I can do.’
‘All right,’ Hannah says, taking a drink from her own glass now, ‘we’ll leave it at that. But I’m convinced there’s something more going on here.’
She was right, of course. When Callum had asked if I’d help out on Easter Sunday morning, at first I’d laughed, thinking he was joking about dressing up. Then when I realised he was being serious, I’d hesitated, but eventually agreed when he’d explained that Evelyn did it every year.
