Just the Two of Us: The hilarious, feel-good love story of 2020 by Jo Wilde

Just the Two of Us: The hilarious, feel-good love story of 2020 by Jo Wilde

Author:Jo Wilde [Wilde, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780349427737
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2020-07-08T18:30:00+00:00


‘You got it!’ Michael stared at the box with something like awe as Julie placed it on the desk before him, and for a moment she felt like whichever knight had chased down the Holy Grail. Perceval, wasn’t it? Had he ever actually found it, though? She couldn’t remember and it really didn’t matter because she, Julie, had found the grail of the Guzzi oil pump and for the first time in days Michael’s eyes were shining with something like pleasure. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘No problem. I just thought it might help you to, you know, get the bike going.’

‘Help me?’

‘You’ve always been happiest with something constructive to do.’

He gave his lopsided smile. ‘Penalties of being an engineer. You know me too well.’

She shifted. ‘Yeah, well, I look forward to hearing that throaty roar from the garage again over the weekend.’

‘I’ll do my best. It’s not the easiest part to replace. The fuel injection line . . . ’ He caught himself. ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said again. ‘Thank you. Really. I’d almost given up on this.’

‘No problem.’ She was grateful when his phone rang. ‘I’ll, er, leave you to it.’

She backed out of his office as he answered the call, but not before she saw him caress the box with his long, slim fingers and give a little smile. Retreating to the kitchen, feeling rather proud of herself, she took out her phone and FaceTimed Clare.

‘Hey, sis, how’s things?’

‘Boring,’ Clare said grumpily. ‘Why haven’t you done Zumba again?’

A memory of the waltz leapt into Julie’s mind and, it seemed, all across her body. She pushed it away.

‘You were right, Clare, it’s silly.’

‘Fair enough. I’ve found a kick-boxing class now if you fancy it. Good for taking out any frustrations.’

‘That’d be bloody perfect! Just tell me when.’

Clare leant in towards the camera. ‘You OK? How are you and Mike coping, just the two of you?’

‘Fine,’ Julie said hastily. ‘Though his back’s still not good. And Mr Nibbles died.’

‘Briony’s rabbit? He must have been ancient.’

‘Twelve,’ Julie told her authoritatively. ‘A good age for a rabbit, but he was well cared for. Especially by Michael.’

‘And now he’s got nothing left to care for but you. And you’re impossible to care for.’

‘I am not!’

‘You are and you know it. Always whirling around the place refusing to be told what to do, or when to rest, or even what to eat.’

‘I’ll have you know I eat whatever’s put in front of me.’

‘Really? You’ve grown up at last then. Remember that year you’d only eat things that were white?’

Julie groaned. She missed Clare, really she did, but the problem with having a best mate who was also your sister was that they had all the dirt on you.

‘I was eight, Clare.’

‘Maybe but you’ve always been a bit picky. Michael used to take that bike of his out for miles when you were first married to find you avocados long before they became trendy. And when you were pregnant – Lord! The poor man had to go all the way to Norfolk to find those langoustines you were craving.



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