Page 81 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
“I know. I could just eat her!”
“How old is she now — five days?”
“Six. She arrived a week early, the little minx — and she’s just as impatient for everything now she’s here.”
“How’s Noah been with her?”
“He’s great.” Lisa smiled fondly. “Every little noise she makes he goes running to check she’s okay.”
“That’s lovely. He’ll make a brilliant big brother. Cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please. Stay there — I’ll get it.”
Vicky laughed. “You know where everything is. I hope you don’t mind me using your coffee-maker?”
“Of course not.” She poured two mugs, adding cream, and brought them over to the desk. “So how’s everything going?” she asked as she sat down.
“Not too bad.” Vicky shifted the sleeping baby so that she could pick up her mug. “I don’t think I’m making too much of a mess.”
“I’m sure you’re not. How does it compare to being an estate agent?”
“It’s quite similar, in a way — trying to make sure the guests get the perfect holiday, and trying to help people find their perfect property. But the walk home’s a lot nicer.”
Lisa’s eyes danced. “I’m sure it is. I’ve visited London a few times, but I don’t think I’d want to live there. It’s too big — I find it a bit overwhelming, with all the buildings and the traffic.”
Vicky nodded agreement. “It can be overwhelming. Though there are a lot of green spaces — more than you’d think. But nothing can beat having a beach on your doorstep.”
“Absolutely!”
They sat chatting for a while as little Kyra slept contentedly, her tiny fingers curled around Vicky’s thumb.
“Feeling broody?” Lisa teased.
“What? No!” Vicky laughed, though it sounded a little forced to her own ears. A baby? With Jeremy, it had been out of the question — a baby wouldn’t have suited his lifestyle. But with Tom...oh, don’t be stupid.“I mean... one day, of course... maybe... but not yet. Not for a while yet.” Again that edgy laugh. “Anyway, it’s usual to have a partner or something first.”
“Or something?”
“Well, someone who can fix the car and do the gardening would come in handy.”
“It would. Mine could remove an appendix, but can’t fix a dripping tap.”
“Ah, well — at least he’d come in useful if you had appendicitis.”
“And he’s a whizz at changing nappies.”
“Clincher!”
* * *
“Goodnight, Vicky. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Pete.” Vicky smiled at the night manager as she crossed the reception hall. “See you tomorrow.”
A soft breeze was rustling the leaves overhead as she strolled up the hill. She liked every time of day here — the early morningswith the lambent glow of the rising sun, the heat of noon with the sky and the sea a jewel-bright sapphire.
But this time of the evening was special. The sun was drifting down towards the horizon, the sky in the east was darkening to a soft cobalt blue. The bees and butterflies had retired for the night, but an owl was hooting softly from the trees.
As she turned into the lane, she was surprised to see Tom emerging from the small patch of woodland beside the cottage. He was carrying a torch and a shovel, and his brow was creased in a worried frown.
