Chapter Two
“It isn’t fair, Daisy,” Abigail complained. She began counting off points on her manicured fingers. “Look at me! I have naturally blonde hair. (Well, almost.) I’m happily married and I live in a great big, beautiful house. Sixpenny Cross won the Prettiest Village in England contest three years running. I’m not short of money and I don’t need to work. I have friends. I even have you, Sam.”
She reached forward to fondle the retriever’s golden ears. Sam’s brown eyes stared into Abigail’s green ones.
“Oh come on, Abigail, cheer up!” said Daisy, setting down her coffee cup. “It’s really not like you to moan so much. You should be grateful for all your blessings.”
“I have a sister with three children,” Abigail continued, ignoring her friend. “And a brother with two. I even volunteer at the school so I’m surrounded by children.”
“Listen, you can always adopt.”
“I told you, Aiden won’t even entertain the idea. He says he could never love a child that wasn’t his.”
She broke off to stare through the window. In the distance an old lady, a shawl thrown over hunched shoulders, trudged along a lane, dragging a small child by the hand. Travellers.
“How long are the gypsies going to stay in Sixpenny Woods?” asked Daisy, following her gaze. “You know our lawnmower went missing last week? Simon is positive it was the gypsies.”
“I expect they’ll move on soon. They always do.”
“Look at the time!” exclaimed Daisy. “I promised Simon I’d cook steak for supper tonight. I’d better hurry or there’ll be nothing left at the butcher’s.”
She gathered her stuff, kissed her friend on the cheek and headed for the door.
“Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, Abigail. It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“Will it?” Abigail asked Sam as Daisy closed the back door behind herself. “Will it really? Will it ever happen? Aiden and I have been married nearly five years. We hardly see each other because of his job. And how many children do we have? None!”
aaaaa
Aiden stared out at the iconic skyline. The hotel room was expensive, a penthouse commanding a spectacular view of London’s most famous landmarks. He could even see the silver-grey Thames threading through the city. Behind him, a woman was dressing.
“Help me with this zipper, would you?” she said, her accent unmistakably American.
She stepped forward and stood with her back to him, blocking his panoramic view. Even though she no longer attracted him, he couldn’t help admiring her shapely curves. She was perfectly aware of the effect she had on men and unhurriedly lifted her long hair to allow him access to the fastenings. Aiden zipped, then battled with a tiny pearl button.
“There you go,” he said. “Nice dress.”
“It wasn’t cheap. So little choice. The stores here are nothing like back home. So rural . Gee, I’ll be glad when I get out of this grey country.”
“It won’t be long now.”
“Okay, I’m going out for a couple of hours. I’ll see you later.”
She stepped away, and Aiden’s view of London sprang back. But it wasn’t London or Martha he was thinking about. It was Abigail and Sixpenny Cross.
aaaaa
Abigail sat in the kitchen, deep in thought. In the background, a newscaster on the radio relayed news of the Falklands war, but she was deaf to it all.
“ Whoof .”
Sam expectantly eyed the leash that dangled from the hook on the back of the kitchen door.
The phone rang and Abigail picked up the kitchen extension, switching off the radio and Margaret Thatcher at the same time. Sam lost hope and flopped onto the floor.
“Abigail?”
“Oh, hi Hilary, how are you?”
“Abigail, I’m sorry to ’ave to do this to you at such short notice…”
“What’s up, Hilary? You sound stressed.”
Hilary was the Martins’ cleaning lady.
“It’s my older sister in Wales. She’s ’ad a fall, poor thing, a serious one. I’m going to
“It isn’t fair, Daisy,” Abigail complained. She began counting off points on her manicured fingers. “Look at me! I have naturally blonde hair. (Well, almost.) I’m happily married and I live in a great big, beautiful house. Sixpenny Cross won the Prettiest Village in England contest three years running. I’m not short of money and I don’t need to work. I have friends. I even have you, Sam.”
She reached forward to fondle the retriever’s golden ears. Sam’s brown eyes stared into Abigail’s green ones.
“Oh come on, Abigail, cheer up!” said Daisy, setting down her coffee cup. “It’s really not like you to moan so much. You should be grateful for all your blessings.”
“I have a sister with three children,” Abigail continued, ignoring her friend. “And a brother with two. I even volunteer at the school so I’m surrounded by children.”
“Listen, you can always adopt.”
“I told you, Aiden won’t even entertain the idea. He says he could never love a child that wasn’t his.”
She broke off to stare through the window. In the distance an old lady, a shawl thrown over hunched shoulders, trudged along a lane, dragging a small child by the hand. Travellers.
“How long are the gypsies going to stay in Sixpenny Woods?” asked Daisy, following her gaze. “You know our lawnmower went missing last week? Simon is positive it was the gypsies.”
“I expect they’ll move on soon. They always do.”
“Look at the time!” exclaimed Daisy. “I promised Simon I’d cook steak for supper tonight. I’d better hurry or there’ll be nothing left at the butcher’s.”
She gathered her stuff, kissed her friend on the cheek and headed for the door.
“Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, Abigail. It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“Will it?” Abigail asked Sam as Daisy closed the back door behind herself. “Will it really? Will it ever happen? Aiden and I have been married nearly five years. We hardly see each other because of his job. And how many children do we have? None!”
aaaaa
Aiden stared out at the iconic skyline. The hotel room was expensive, a penthouse commanding a spectacular view of London’s most famous landmarks. He could even see the silver-grey Thames threading through the city. Behind him, a woman was dressing.
“Help me with this zipper, would you?” she said, her accent unmistakably American.
She stepped forward and stood with her back to him, blocking his panoramic view. Even though she no longer attracted him, he couldn’t help admiring her shapely curves. She was perfectly aware of the effect she had on men and unhurriedly lifted her long hair to allow him access to the fastenings. Aiden zipped, then battled with a tiny pearl button.
“There you go,” he said. “Nice dress.”
“It wasn’t cheap. So little choice. The stores here are nothing like back home. So rural . Gee, I’ll be glad when I get out of this grey country.”
“It won’t be long now.”
“Okay, I’m going out for a couple of hours. I’ll see you later.”
She stepped away, and Aiden’s view of London sprang back. But it wasn’t London or Martha he was thinking about. It was Abigail and Sixpenny Cross.
aaaaa
Abigail sat in the kitchen, deep in thought. In the background, a newscaster on the radio relayed news of the Falklands war, but she was deaf to it all.
“ Whoof .”
Sam expectantly eyed the leash that dangled from the hook on the back of the kitchen door.
The phone rang and Abigail picked up the kitchen extension, switching off the radio and Margaret Thatcher at the same time. Sam lost hope and flopped onto the floor.
“Abigail?”
“Oh, hi Hilary, how are you?”
“Abigail, I’m sorry to ’ave to do this to you at such short notice…”
“What’s up, Hilary? You sound stressed.”
Hilary was the Martins’ cleaning lady.
“It’s my older sister in Wales. She’s ’ad a fall, poor thing, a serious one. I’m going to
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