cherubic face and the gentlest of dark brown eyes, was fiddling with the handbrake.
Poll’s heart gave a little leap of pure pleasure. Silly, she told herself sternly. Very, very silly indeed.
‘Hello!’ Billy struggled out from the driver’s seat, holding out both hands. ‘Not too early, am I? It’s wonderful to see you again, Poll. And what a fabulous place you’ve got here. I’m feeling at home already.’
‘I hoped you would.’ Poll grinned delightedly, taking Billy’s hands in a sort of confused squeeze-cum-shake, then belatedly remembering the rag-bag housework clothes and the grime. Too late. Way, way too late. Damn it. ‘Oh, please ignore the dogs.’
‘I love dogs.’ Billy continued to smile, releasing Poll’s hands as he patted and stroked. ‘All animals are better than most people in my opinion.’
‘And mine,’ Poll said with feeling. ‘Anyway, we’ve got the place to ourselves at the moment, so you’ll be able to get settled in without having to face a million other people.’
‘A million?’ Billy’s pale-blue eyes twinkled. ‘I knew you were a generous lass, but even so…’
They laughed together, and then in a slightly less chaotic rerun of Ella and Ash’s arrivals, Poll helped Billy with his luggage – a hotchpotch collection of elderly suitcases, zip-up shopping bags, and black bin liners this time – through Hideaway Farm and into his room next door to Ash’s.
‘Blimey…’ Billy looked around him in wonderment.‘This is like the Ritz. You have no idea how grateful I am, Poll, love.’
Poll blinked quickly. She always cried when people were nice to her. It hadn’t happened very often.
‘You’re very, very welcome. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled in and then I’ll be downstairs. Would you like something to eat? A drink?’
‘A nice cuppa would go down a treat,’ Billy said. ‘Although I can see you’ve given me all the stuff up here to make my own. I honestly don’t know what to say – I didn’t expect anything like this.’
Poll blinked quickly again. ‘I’ll go and make a pot of tea. We can have it in the garden. Come down when you’re ready. Shall I put out some cake? Biscuits?’
‘Not for me, thank you.’ Billy was still staring round his room with something close to awe. ‘I stopped off at the Little Chef on the way here and had one of them Olympic Breakfasts – filled me up a treat that did.’
Poll smiled. ‘George loves going to Little Chef. He likes the pancakes.’
‘Ah, me too. Specially the cherry ones with ice cream.’
‘We’ll have to get Ella to make us some. She’s living here too, and you’ll meet her later, because she loves making puds. And Ash and, er…’ Poll hesitated for a minute, then decided the identity of Roy could wait until another time. ‘Er, yes, Ash, he’s next door to you just along the corridor, his speciality is soups – and yours is bread of course. Oh, there’s an ancient bread oven in the kitchen; I’m sure it’d love to be put to good use again.’
Billy beamed. ‘Sounds perfect to me. I’ve missed kneading the old dough. And what about you? Do you cook as well?’
‘Every chance I get. Robust main courses are my thing – nothing fancy. I couldn’t do nouvelle cuisine if you paid me – not that anyone would of course. I love dishing up big dinners. Hearty stuff.’ Poll nodded eagerly. ‘Pies are probably my best things, really. Dennis – my ex – rarely complimented me but he did say that my pastry was the lightest he’d ever tasted.’ She stopped. Did that sound like bragging? She hoped not. And could mentioning Dennis-the-ex sound like she was advertising herself as single? Oh, Lord… Blushing madly, she swallowed. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you to settle in and you come down when you’re ready.’
‘I’ll do that, thanks.’
Still blushing, Poll turned away and caught sight of herself in the triptych mirror on the dressing table.
Aaargh – noooo!
She was still
Poll’s heart gave a little leap of pure pleasure. Silly, she told herself sternly. Very, very silly indeed.
‘Hello!’ Billy struggled out from the driver’s seat, holding out both hands. ‘Not too early, am I? It’s wonderful to see you again, Poll. And what a fabulous place you’ve got here. I’m feeling at home already.’
‘I hoped you would.’ Poll grinned delightedly, taking Billy’s hands in a sort of confused squeeze-cum-shake, then belatedly remembering the rag-bag housework clothes and the grime. Too late. Way, way too late. Damn it. ‘Oh, please ignore the dogs.’
‘I love dogs.’ Billy continued to smile, releasing Poll’s hands as he patted and stroked. ‘All animals are better than most people in my opinion.’
‘And mine,’ Poll said with feeling. ‘Anyway, we’ve got the place to ourselves at the moment, so you’ll be able to get settled in without having to face a million other people.’
‘A million?’ Billy’s pale-blue eyes twinkled. ‘I knew you were a generous lass, but even so…’
They laughed together, and then in a slightly less chaotic rerun of Ella and Ash’s arrivals, Poll helped Billy with his luggage – a hotchpotch collection of elderly suitcases, zip-up shopping bags, and black bin liners this time – through Hideaway Farm and into his room next door to Ash’s.
‘Blimey…’ Billy looked around him in wonderment.‘This is like the Ritz. You have no idea how grateful I am, Poll, love.’
Poll blinked quickly. She always cried when people were nice to her. It hadn’t happened very often.
‘You’re very, very welcome. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled in and then I’ll be downstairs. Would you like something to eat? A drink?’
‘A nice cuppa would go down a treat,’ Billy said. ‘Although I can see you’ve given me all the stuff up here to make my own. I honestly don’t know what to say – I didn’t expect anything like this.’
Poll blinked quickly again. ‘I’ll go and make a pot of tea. We can have it in the garden. Come down when you’re ready. Shall I put out some cake? Biscuits?’
‘Not for me, thank you.’ Billy was still staring round his room with something close to awe. ‘I stopped off at the Little Chef on the way here and had one of them Olympic Breakfasts – filled me up a treat that did.’
Poll smiled. ‘George loves going to Little Chef. He likes the pancakes.’
‘Ah, me too. Specially the cherry ones with ice cream.’
‘We’ll have to get Ella to make us some. She’s living here too, and you’ll meet her later, because she loves making puds. And Ash and, er…’ Poll hesitated for a minute, then decided the identity of Roy could wait until another time. ‘Er, yes, Ash, he’s next door to you just along the corridor, his speciality is soups – and yours is bread of course. Oh, there’s an ancient bread oven in the kitchen; I’m sure it’d love to be put to good use again.’
Billy beamed. ‘Sounds perfect to me. I’ve missed kneading the old dough. And what about you? Do you cook as well?’
‘Every chance I get. Robust main courses are my thing – nothing fancy. I couldn’t do nouvelle cuisine if you paid me – not that anyone would of course. I love dishing up big dinners. Hearty stuff.’ Poll nodded eagerly. ‘Pies are probably my best things, really. Dennis – my ex – rarely complimented me but he did say that my pastry was the lightest he’d ever tasted.’ She stopped. Did that sound like bragging? She hoped not. And could mentioning Dennis-the-ex sound like she was advertising herself as single? Oh, Lord… Blushing madly, she swallowed. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you to settle in and you come down when you’re ready.’
‘I’ll do that, thanks.’
Still blushing, Poll turned away and caught sight of herself in the triptych mirror on the dressing table.
Aaargh – noooo!
She was still
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