Chloe by Freya North Page A

begged Jasper.
    â€˜What a filly!’
    â€˜Pear-rare-grin!’ bellowed Jasper. ‘Word for word! Go!’
    Peregrine cleared his voice. ‘He’s called Carl, apparently. A big, strapping bushman from New Zealand! Blond, bronzed and brawny. Oh, that we were thirty years younger!’
    â€˜Speak for yourself, old crock,’ said Jasper. ‘Twenty would be fine for me! Is that how she describes him? A hunky thing from the bush down under?’
    Peregrine reread the letter swiftly. ‘No, actually, she says,
I’ve met a really nice bloke from New Zealand. His name is Carl and I know you’d love him
, bla bla.’
    â€˜Stop it with the bla blas,’ Jasper demanded.
    â€˜OK,’ conceded Peregrine, ‘this is what she says:
His name is Carl and I know you’d
, bla bla. Sorry!
He lives above the tack room – I know the thought of a strapping young man amongst all that leather will probably drive you two wild, but calm down so I can tell you all!
Writes a good letter, our Chloë.’
    â€˜I never went in for leather much, but carry on, dear.’
    â€˜
We’re the only youngsters here. Mind you, by your standards, Gin and Dai are spring chooks!
’
    â€˜Sprung whats?’ asked Jasper.
    â€˜Ah, she explains,
as the Kiwis say for “chicken”! You know, just as soon as I set eyes on Carl, I felt strange murmurings for him which quickly transpired to be Lust, loud and clear! You see, he’s big and blond and sensitive and sexy and perfect. And he kisses divinely.
She must know not to start a sentence with “and”, surely Jocelyn would have drilled her?’
    â€˜Let’s make an allowance – the girl’s obviously quite beside herself with excitement.’
    â€˜Dormant lust, I’d say!’
    â€˜Whatever! Continue.’
    â€˜Ah, sweet Chloë, listen to this:
As you know, Things were never good with Brett
– I don’t know why the capital “T” but never mind –
I realize now that I have never really been kissed before. Before Carl, that is. Can you believe that after a month of near-kisses near-misses, we finally found ourselves mouth to mouth in a tack shop in Abergavenny at lunch-time!
I’m sure she needs a comma or two, but I’ll let it lie.’
    â€˜Gracious,’ said Jasper proudly, ‘in a tack shop in Aberwhatsit at noon!’
    â€˜All that leather!’
    â€˜So public!’
    â€˜So exciting!’
    â€˜Wild! Please continue, do.’
    For some reason, on which Jasper thought it best not to comment, Peregrine took a sip from the empty cup before reading more. ‘
The kiss lasted an age and beyond. And then some! In fact, was it one kiss or many? Heavens, it was so exciting I could hardly breathe, mind you I could hardly breathe because there were two tongues in my mouth and our faces were pressed as close together as was physiognomically possible! I could feel how excited he was, if you know what I mean – in the trouser region, if you like
.’
    â€˜We know what you mean! And yes, we like!’
    â€˜And I don’t mind telling you that I felt positively glued to my trouser region!’
    â€˜
Do
we mind her telling us?’ Jasper interrupted.
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ pondered Peregrine. ‘
Do
we?’
    â€˜No, no, I think that will be acceptable, Perers. Go on.’
    â€˜She continues – ha!
Do I mind telling you? I wonder? But who else is there to tell with Jocelyn gone? Do you mind me telling you, though? I hope not. If I know you two, you’ll find it riveting! Well, there we were, snogging for England. I mean for Wales, of course. Light-headed and tongue-tied. I was in paradise. I was on another, higher plane and begged the moment to last forever. As I said, we had been kissing for hours – ages, at least – and if it were not for Jones the Tack (honest!) hollering “Hoof picks!” at us,