Kitty's Countryside Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

croissant, I could feel myself smiling, wondering what the day ahead had in store for me.
    Suspecting Tom and Jeannie would already be at the Lodge by now, I was aiming to arrive as soon as possible and I was sure 9 a.m. would be bright and early enough. I reckoned Jeannie was roughly my age, mid-twenties. I didn’t want to cast any aspersions, but apart from her rough-and-ready clothes she really didn’t look like a chicken farmer. I could visualise her on the front cover of Vogue, a model in the making, strutting up and down the catwalk in the highest of heels. I didn’t anticipate she would stay at the Lodge long; it was probably more like a stopgap in-between jobs until she found something of a more suitable nature.
    Once I cleared away the breakfast dishes, I found myself standing in front of my wardrobe, swiping the clothes on the rail backwards and forwards, pondering what to wear. I’d only brought a few changes of clothes with me in my suitcase on the train; I was still waiting for the rest of my belongings to arrive. Finally I settled on a plain duck-egg blue cashmere sweater with a navy pleated skirt that fell just above the knee, opaque tights and black ballet shoes. Swirling around in front of the mirror, I was pleased with my choice. There was no doubt I had dressed to impress. I gave myself a nod of appreciation in the mirror; I looked boss-like and ready for my first day of work at the Lodge. In the past few years I hadn’t taken any pride in my appearance whatsoever. I hadn’t needed to – I never had anywhere to go or anyone to impress. My hair lacked style – it was dull, boring and scraped back in a ponytail. Oversized sloppy jumpers graced my body and jeans were a must every day of the week, but if I was going to be working in an office every day now I might need to revamp my wardrobe.
    With one last twirl and a pat of Alfie’s head, I grabbed my coat and threw my lunch into the basket of my bike. I didn’t know what the rules for lunchtime would be, so I thought it was best to go prepared; I didn’t want to go hungry. The air outside was fresh and crisp. After fastening the buttons on my coat, I bumped my bike down the steps and on the pavement. Closing the front door, I swung my leg over the bike, pushed on the pedal and I was off.
    Suddenly I could feel myself beaming as I cycled to work. It had been years since I’d had a purpose, and now I was about to take the chicken world by storm, whatever that involved. In my head I already had the day mapped out. Tom would spend the day at my side in the office, showing me the files, accounts and how to invoice. We would laugh and joke and drink numerous mugs of tea, and I didn’t mean the apple variety. Luckily I’d remembered to throw some teabags, milk and sugar into my basket, along with some of the fantastic chocolate flapjack I’d purchased from the baker’s the day before.
    Arriving at the gate of Bluebell Lodge, the padlock was positioned in the same place on the ground, meaning I wasn’t the first person to arrive, which was good because I didn’t have any keys to let myself into the office yet. Cycling up the drive, I spotted Dotty; she was pecking about quite happily on the gravel outside the cottage I’d seen Tom disappear into yesterday. His boots were no longer outside his front door so he must be around the Lodge somewhere.
    Turning the corner towards the office, I spotted Tom and Jeannie sitting on the picnic bench outside the office, hugging mugs of tea; both were kitted out in overalls and wellies.
    Tom raised his hand and waved at me. ‘Good morning, boss! Is this what you would call bright and early? Some of us have been up working since 5 a.m.,’ he said, winking playfully.
    Jeannie was grinning at his joke. Even though she was covered from head to toe in chicken muck already, she still looked gorgeous – sometimes life was so unfair.
    â€˜Good