The Vintage Ice Cream Van Road Trip (Cherry Pie Island - Book 2) by Jenny Oliver Page B
Authors: Jenny Oliver
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carried on and Diana smiled and looked away. ‘We never get to see this sweeter side of you.’
‘Get lost, Emily,’ he narrowed his eyes. ‘Holly, do you need a drink?’
‘I think she’s OK for a drink, Wilfred, Alfonso got her some water,’ Emily grinned, clearly enjoying the tension and the awkwardness. ‘I could do with a top-up though,’ she added, biting the tip of her finger.
‘You know where the wine is,’ Wilf said with a sneer.
‘Children, behave!’ Diane did a clap of her hands. ‘Be nice to each other, it’s my pre-wedding party, I want loveliness and kindness and just all things beautiful.’
Wilf and Emily scowled at each other and then the dog bounded over and pushed Wilf backwards so that he had to sit down and scratch behind the mutt’s ears. Holly took the opportunity to excuse herself. Sliding the plate of food onto the nearest table and picking up the baguette, she made a beeline for the garden where she hoped she might be able to disappear behind the wall of rose bushes.
Chapter Eighteen
Ahead of her, the garden stretched out, green and lush, behind her were the rose bushes, plump and cream, the petals fringed with pink and pruned like prize-winners. To her right was a swimming pool, the water shimmering in the afternoon light. Swallows were gliding down as she watched, skimming the surface to drink, and pausing on the empty sun-loungers that sparkled with splashed water. At the far end the garden faded into wilder plants, tall grasses speckled with poppies. And then it changed again in a shaded area of different types of trees. As she walked up to it, the shadows long in the afternoon sunshine, she recognised some cherry trees, the same as the ones from the island, their white blossom just ending, and wondered if Diana had taken a cutting with her when she left. There was an old gnarled apple tree with a swing hanging from the main branch and what looked like some other fruit trees. She sat on the swing, her back to the house, facing the lavender fields that stretched far and wide ahead of her and found herself sort of wishing that she was back on the road. That everything was done and dusted and she was away from the scrutiny of Emily and Diana.
‘Sorry about that,’ she heard Wilf say from behind her.
She looked over her shoulder. ‘It’s OK. To be expected really.’
‘I should rise above it,’ he said, taking a seat on a low branch of the apple tree. The dog had followed and lay down in front of him. Wilf rested his bare feet on its back. ‘Sorry they’re so full on. Are you alright about churning ice cream?’ he said, one brow raised, looking unsure for the first time since she’d met him. ‘I’ll take you for lunch afterwards to make up for it.’
‘I think it’ll be fun. I’ve never churned before!’ she laughed.
‘You do? Oh good. OK,’ he nodded. ‘They can be an acquired taste, that lot,’ he said, indicating back to the party on the patio.
Holly thought how she’d give almost anything to have what he had in the shape of family. To have that great hustle and bustle and over-the-top sense of everyone’s business being everyone else’s business. She thought maybe that was why she’d so adamantly decided to keep the baby. To create just that. A family.
‘Wilf, I know them all, remember?’
‘Yeah, yeah I suppose you do,’ he said, as if realising that he didn’t have to worry so much about what his mum and the rest of them said or did. That Holly didn’t need the kind of treatment that maybe his girlfriends usually demanded. Not that she was his girlfriend. Just a friend who was a girl. It dawned on her that maybe he was sweeter than she’d given him credit for. Maybe she’d been taken in by the good looks and presumed arrogance.
But then he stretched himself out on the tree branch, put his hands behind his head, shut his eyes and said, ‘My room is just down the hall from yours, FYI. Just in case you find yourself wanting to pop in
‘Get lost, Emily,’ he narrowed his eyes. ‘Holly, do you need a drink?’
‘I think she’s OK for a drink, Wilfred, Alfonso got her some water,’ Emily grinned, clearly enjoying the tension and the awkwardness. ‘I could do with a top-up though,’ she added, biting the tip of her finger.
‘You know where the wine is,’ Wilf said with a sneer.
‘Children, behave!’ Diane did a clap of her hands. ‘Be nice to each other, it’s my pre-wedding party, I want loveliness and kindness and just all things beautiful.’
Wilf and Emily scowled at each other and then the dog bounded over and pushed Wilf backwards so that he had to sit down and scratch behind the mutt’s ears. Holly took the opportunity to excuse herself. Sliding the plate of food onto the nearest table and picking up the baguette, she made a beeline for the garden where she hoped she might be able to disappear behind the wall of rose bushes.
Chapter Eighteen
Ahead of her, the garden stretched out, green and lush, behind her were the rose bushes, plump and cream, the petals fringed with pink and pruned like prize-winners. To her right was a swimming pool, the water shimmering in the afternoon light. Swallows were gliding down as she watched, skimming the surface to drink, and pausing on the empty sun-loungers that sparkled with splashed water. At the far end the garden faded into wilder plants, tall grasses speckled with poppies. And then it changed again in a shaded area of different types of trees. As she walked up to it, the shadows long in the afternoon sunshine, she recognised some cherry trees, the same as the ones from the island, their white blossom just ending, and wondered if Diana had taken a cutting with her when she left. There was an old gnarled apple tree with a swing hanging from the main branch and what looked like some other fruit trees. She sat on the swing, her back to the house, facing the lavender fields that stretched far and wide ahead of her and found herself sort of wishing that she was back on the road. That everything was done and dusted and she was away from the scrutiny of Emily and Diana.
‘Sorry about that,’ she heard Wilf say from behind her.
She looked over her shoulder. ‘It’s OK. To be expected really.’
‘I should rise above it,’ he said, taking a seat on a low branch of the apple tree. The dog had followed and lay down in front of him. Wilf rested his bare feet on its back. ‘Sorry they’re so full on. Are you alright about churning ice cream?’ he said, one brow raised, looking unsure for the first time since she’d met him. ‘I’ll take you for lunch afterwards to make up for it.’
‘I think it’ll be fun. I’ve never churned before!’ she laughed.
‘You do? Oh good. OK,’ he nodded. ‘They can be an acquired taste, that lot,’ he said, indicating back to the party on the patio.
Holly thought how she’d give almost anything to have what he had in the shape of family. To have that great hustle and bustle and over-the-top sense of everyone’s business being everyone else’s business. She thought maybe that was why she’d so adamantly decided to keep the baby. To create just that. A family.
‘Wilf, I know them all, remember?’
‘Yeah, yeah I suppose you do,’ he said, as if realising that he didn’t have to worry so much about what his mum and the rest of them said or did. That Holly didn’t need the kind of treatment that maybe his girlfriends usually demanded. Not that she was his girlfriend. Just a friend who was a girl. It dawned on her that maybe he was sweeter than she’d given him credit for. Maybe she’d been taken in by the good looks and presumed arrogance.
But then he stretched himself out on the tree branch, put his hands behind his head, shut his eyes and said, ‘My room is just down the hall from yours, FYI. Just in case you find yourself wanting to pop in
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