Chloe's Rescue Mission Read Online Free PDF

touch.’ He stood up.
    I stood so fast my head span. ‘Wait!’ I urged, touching his arm then retracting my hand immediately. ‘Why don’t you join us? Mum always cooks far too much. And it’ll save you stopping off at motorway services, or wherever...’
    What was I saying? Here was a guy, clearly used to eating in the finest restaurants – heck, he probably owned half of them – and I was suggesting a family roast might beat a burger on the motorway. But the invitation was out there now. It wasn’t something I could suck back in like bubble gum.
    As he looked at me, I could practically hear his brain scanning a database of appropriate excuses. He checked his watch again and tapped his thumbs on the folder.
    Eventually, he said, ‘Are you sure she wouldn’t mind?’
    Mind? Boody-hell! He actually wanted to come.
    ‘Of course not. The more the merrier.’ Those jazz-hands were twitching.
    ‘Right, well, I just need to make a phone call. I’ll do it from the car.’
    ‘Okay. Owen and I’ll lock up and meet you outside.’
    As I watched him make his way out of the auditorium, I dived into my bag for my phone. Please God, let mum have done her usual and cooked for an army.
    *
    Duncan hated having to call the restaurant to cancel the table – he knew how infuriating it was to lose a booking at such short notice – but he promised he would re-book in the near future.
    He flipped the phone closed and stared at the cracked tarmac. Was this wise? Taking a potential business associate out for lunch was one thing, going back to her family home for Sunday lunch was entirely different. Still, what else was he going to do – eat lunch alone and immerse himself in the report on opportunities around the Italian Lakes? Although, the prospect of meeting Chloe’s mother, Jennifer Dawson, probably swung it. He’d grown up watching her in the TV series, Mad Dogs and Englishmen . It had been one of the few programmes he and his sister had watched with their mother. No matter that he’d met countless celebrities in recent years, it would be a thrill to meet someone who had been so significant in his childhood.
    He looked back up at the theatre. One could hardly call it the best in sixties’ design but a new colour scheme would make a big difference to its appearance – and to the budget. This could easily turn into a money pit. All the same, he liked the idea of being involved in a more altruistic project.
    The sunlight glinting on the theatre door shifted. A young man wearing a loose t-shirt in pea-green over black jeans, emerged. His heavy mop of hair marked him out as a geek.
    Chloe locked the door then turned towards Duncan and called, ‘If you want to follow us, this one’s mine.’ She pointed to a red and white Mini.
    He nodded and waved, before slipping into the hot, leather seat of his car and gunning the engine.
    *
    There was just enough room on our gravelled drive for me to squeeze my car alongside Beth’s battered estate car, leaving space for Duncan to pull in behind.
    Juniper Cottage is on the edge of a small Cotswold village, just outside Barnworth. The buttery stonework almost dazzles on sunny days like this. The two cherry trees flanking the entrance to the drive were in blossom, brightening the heavy green of the holly bushes along the lane.
    I walked over to meet him, just as there was a loud and fearsome volley of barking from the side garden. Mum’s honey-coloured German Shepherd, Kandy, appeared and planted her paws on the gate, demanding attention.
    I pulled a face. ‘That’s Kandy. I know it’s hard to believe right now, but she’s the softest dog, really.’
    ‘Don’t worry. I love dogs. She’s just doing her job.’
    I turned to Owen. ‘Duncan, this is Owen Shaw. We used to be in the youth theatre together. He’s the tech-head who looks after our website.’
    They shook hands, and I led the way to the front door. I prayed Duncan wouldn’t mind the recently delivered pile of horse