The Nearly-Weds Read Online Free PDF Page B

whisper, ‘he couldn’t be grumpier if he’d had private tuition from Ebenezer Scrooge.’
    ‘Grumpy? Brooding , you mean,’ she murmurs. ‘Like Mr Darcy. Or the one that was on The X Factor last year.’
    ‘Whatever you say.’ I grin.
    ‘And he’s a bit of a heartbreaker, apparently.’
    ‘Oh? Well, I can’t see it.’
    ‘Then there must be something wrong with your eyesight.’
    Mercifully, the conversation is cut short when Samuel ventures on to the sofa next to us. ‘Are you from England, Zoe?’ he asks.
    ‘I am, sweetheart,’ I tell him, straightening his T-shirt.
    ‘I am from Hope Falls,’ he declares.
    ‘I know,’ I say. ‘And I’m going to stay with you here, aren’t I?’
    ‘Can I come to England?’ he asks.
    ‘Well, one day I’m sure you’ll be able to,’ I say, thinking that perhaps in fifteen years’ time he might join the throngs of US students backpacking round Europe.
    ‘Today?’ he says hopefully.
    Ruby bursts into fits of giggles and leans over to hug him. This starts Samuel giggling. ‘You silly thing,’ she says, kissing his head. ‘England’s too far away to go to today. It’s even further than Maine.’
    Trudie and I are quizzed on everything from what language is spoken in England to whether we have ever eaten a Gummi Bear. When, eventually, they go back to the TV I turn to Trudie again. ‘I take it your earlier comment – about the men here – means you’re not attached?’
    ‘Au contraire,’ she replies, raising her eyebrows. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone utter a French phrase in quite such a thick Yorkshire accent. ‘I’ve met my ideal man while I’ve been over here. I said the talent isn’t world class in Hope Falls. My bloke lives on the other side of town.’
    ‘Ah,’ I say.
    ‘He’s absolutely bloody spectacular,’ she continues dreamily. ‘I love him to bits.’
    ‘How did you meet?’ I ask.
    ‘Ritchie’s a tree surgeon and was doing a job at our place in the first week I was here. He was sorting out one of the sugar maples at the bottom of the garden. I first saw him when he was halfway up it with a chainsaw. Took one look at those biceps and, let me tell you, I was his! ’
    ‘Can’t resist a bloke with a power tool, hey?’
    ‘Something like that.’ She giggles. ‘It’s not just that, though. He’s lovely. So kind and thoughtful. Always telling me how gorgeous I am – even if I’ve got a zit on my nose – and he’s for ever buying me flowers. That might sound corny but I’m a sucker for it.’
    ‘It doesn’t sound corny at all,’ I tell her truthfully. ‘It sounds absolutely fantastic.’
    ‘Listen,’ she says suddenly, ‘why don’t you go and get yourself unpacked and have a shower? I’ll watch the kids and then we can all go out for something to eat. There’s a place down the road that does pizzas so big they must have about four thousand calories per slice.’
    ‘Really? You don’t mind?’ I whimper. I couldn’t have been happier if she’d offered to pay off a lifetime of parking tickets, resit my French GCSE and remember to buy Great Auntie Iris some lavender talcum powder for her birthday each year.
    ‘Go!’ she instructs.
    Ruby leaps up and grabs my hand. ‘I’ll show you the way, Zoe.’
    We climb the stairs. As we approach the spare bedroom, I can almost picture what I’m about to face: the sort of room about which a Wormwood Scrubs resident would be entitled to send off a stern letter of complaint. But as I open the door I’m well and truly shocked.
    It’s small, sunny and astonishingly neat. There’s a white and pastel patchwork throw draped over the bed. The walls are the colour of ripe lemons and the curtains at the window are covered with bright yellow roses and tied back with matching ribbons. I wouldn’t say it’s my style – a bit too Laura Ashley-meets- Seven Brides for Seven Brothers – but it’s such an improvement on everywhere else, you’d hardly think it was