Daisy's French Farmhouse by Lorraine Wilson

Author:Lorraine Wilson [Wilson, Lorraine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008363130
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

I stare at the text, not having a clue what to make of it.

I read his text aloud to Poppy and JoJo and still feel confused.

“Nothing good ever came after the phrase we need to talk,” I add, grimacing, clicking my phone back onto standby and placing it on the table, well away from me and any errant dog paws. Far, far away; Squeaker’s accidental heart emoji is still fresh in my mind.

“He could be wanting to sack me,” I suggest.

“Over a drink at a bar?” JoJo pulls a face. “Seems unlikely. He could just text you.”

She has a point but I refuse to let myself think of it as Anton asking me out for a drink at a bar. Nothing good ever came from false hope either.

“Maybe he just wants to talk things through and clear the air,” Poppy suggests.

“Why at a bar in town instead of at his house though?” I ask.

“It would probably be too awkward talking about it in the place it actually happened.” JoJo sits down with her own drink and leans forward, elbows on the table. “A public space is neutral.”

I think JoJo might be right. Of the three options – a potential date, him sacking me, or forcing an awkward conversation – I expect it’s going to be the awkward conversation.

“Right, I think I’m going to bed. Today already feels like it’s been far longer than any day has a right to be.” I gently detach Peanut and Flump, my little cuddle companions.

“Here, take Pickwick to bed with you tonight.” Poppy thrusts her cute miniature Yorkshire terrier towards me once I’ve stood up and Flump has made his way back to JoJo’s side. “He really adores one-to-one fuss and cuddles.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask, smiling at Pickwick who is looking exceptionally scruffy today, even though I saw him being brushed earlier. Scruffy is his signature look, Poppy says.

“Really, he does love getting one-to-one cuddles. I once borrowed him for a couple of weeks when I was having a bad time,” JoJo reassures me. “He really does love having a human all to himself for a change, plus he makes a good furry hot water bottle and cuddler.”

“Well, I never say no to dog cuddles.” I stroke him and he instantly snuggles into my chest. “But I’m not throwing your ball all night, Pickwick, got it?”

Pickwick instantly looks up at me and sticks his tongue out in true cheeky terrier fashion. I grin. I’ve always had a fondness for yorkies.

“Don’t take it personally – he’s always doing that.” Poppy laughs. “Though sometimes his timing is remarkably apt.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.” I kiss the top of Pickwick’s head, forcing all thoughts of what exactly Anton is going to ask me as far away from my conscious mind as I can manage. Working out what I’ll say to him is complicated, given I don’t know what he’s planning on asking me.

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