Lovestruck Read Online Free PDF

everyone talking excitedly about staycations and barbecues was over. Now the grass on the Green was waterlogged. Buggies’ sun screens had been replaced by rain hoods. The skies were light blue and dappled with clouds as Rosie, Toby and George crossed the Green, en-route to the Conifers and the first birthday party of their new lives.
    Rosie had been so excited when the boys came running out of Wendy’s, their new nursery school, waving the white envelope.
    ‘Mummy, Mummy, we’ve been invited to Santos and Michael’s birthday party.’
    ‘Wow, boys, that’s great. Who are Santos and Michael?’
    ‘Them,’ said Wendy darkly, standing at the nursery door, gesturing towards two boys in matching blue corduroy knickerbockers and striped shirts with Peter Pan collars being shepherded out of the gates by two nannies. Rosie had been aghast the first time she spotted them, not only because there was a nanny for each child, but also because they were wearing grey uniforms. Had she stepped back into the nineteen thirties?
    ‘Twins?’
    ‘Mmm hmm,’ said Wendy, and then, out of the corner of her mouth, ‘Fertility treatment, obviously.’
    ‘Ah!’
    Wendy was a very tall Kiwi in her sixties. She wore lots of make-up in shades of coral that matched her tightly permed hair. She almost never smiled and appeared to have no interest in children whatsoever, though she did like to gossip about the parents and in the past three days had already informed Rosie that Isla’s parents were in the middle of a bitter divorce (Rosie had no idea which one Isla was), and that she thought Freddie’s mummy should go easy on the snacks (Rosie had spotted Freddie because he was, indeed, slightly on the chubby side). Who knew what she was telling the other mums about Rosie?
    Wendy didn’t appear to like children much either, making her an ideal candidate for running a nursery. So why had Rosie chosen to send her two precious children to such an establishment? Because it was the only nursery within a fifteen-mile radius with vacancies. Call her a bad mother, but Rosie simply wasn’t convinced that if in thirty years’ time her sons lay on the couch of a serious-looking lady with interesting jewellery it would be because of the three hours daily they spent as toddlers playing with Lego at Wendy’s, which had places available, as opposed to the Montessori down the road with ninety-eight children on its waiting list. After all, the boys seemed happy enough there. Wendy didn’t
actually beat them, even if she didn’t smile at them much, and her failings were compensated for by the rest of the staff, who were all cuddly, smiling ladies.
    ‘It should be quite a party,’ Wendy said. ‘Patrizia and Gary aren’t short of cash. He’s a major hedge-fund manager. She’s a Brazilian heiress.’
    ‘How … nice.’ Rosie clapped her hands as if she were auditioning for a CBBC presenter job. ‘Come on, children. Home we go!’
    ‘I’d make sure the boys are looking a bit smarter than usual,’ Wendy said, turning back inside.
    Outside the gates, Rosie ripped open the invitation. It was on stiff white card, like a wedding invite, with a multi-coloured, childish raised font.
    Santos and Michael
    invite Toby and George
    to their fourth birthday party!!!
    On Saturday at 3 p.m.
    See you there!!!!
    There was a mobile number for RSVPs. As soon as they were home Rosie sent a text accepting. She was excited. She tried to kid herself it was because the boys were making friends, but really it was because of the potential the party offered her. Now she was a full-time mum she needed to make mum chums to hang out with.
    So far she’d been too shy so far to pluck up conversation with any of Wendy’s mums at the gates – not that there were many mums around. Pick-ups seemed to be done mainly by bored-looking nannies (although Santos and Michael’s were the only ones actually in uniform) and au pairs. The couple of mothers she had clocked had looked like