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Chapter 5
My word, Beverley’s niece is gorgeous, Ron thought, feeling rather on the back foot. Somehow he’d got it into his head that she’d be careworn and dowdy, but the reality was very far from the image he had concocted of her.
The woman standing before him was in her early to mid-forties, with caramel and honey hair falling around her shoulders, a light tan, a pert upturned nose, and startlingly blue eyes. She was quite tall, her figure was trim, and she seemed rather reserved. She was also incredibly pretty.
‘I take it these two are yours?’ he asked, smiling at the boy and girl who were staring at him and Sam curiously.
‘Yes, this is Jake and Izzie. Say hello to Ron,’ she instructed.
‘Hello,’ they chorused.
Sam hung back a little, and Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘How about you show Jake and Izzie the games room?’ he suggested.
‘We’ve seen it,’ Jake said, ‘but I’d like to see it again.’
‘Can the dog come?’ Izzie sidled over to Beverley, who was still cuddling the poodle. ‘What’s its name?’
‘Didn’t your Granny tell you?’ Beverley asked. ‘No? OK, then… his name is Pepe and he’s a poodle. He’s also Mama’s bestest boy, aren’t you, my darling?’ She put the dog on the floor and he promptly shook himself.
Izzie crouched down and held out her hand. Pepe sniffed it, then gave her fingers a lick. ‘Does he like me?’ Her little face was hopeful.
‘He most definitely does,’ Ron said.
‘Good, because I like him. I’ve never had a dog.’ She sounded wistful and Ron saw Annabelle wince.
‘Run along,’ Beverley said, shooing the children away. ‘Ron, could you be a love and fetch the luggage in from Annabelle’s car?’
‘I can do it,’ Annabelle said, taking her car keys out of her bag.
‘I’m sure you can, my dear, but let Ron do it. He’s a big, strong boy.’
‘I’m hardly a boy,’ Ron objected, giving her a warm smile.
‘When you get to my age, anyone younger than fifty is still a kid,’ Beverley retorted with a snort.
Ron held his hand out for the keys to Annabelle’s car, but Annabelle hung on to them. ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ she insisted, and who was he to argue.
The thought flitted through his mind that she might be worried he was going to steal something, but he shoved it away in irritation. Despite having had a roof over his head for the past eight months, he still couldn’t get out of the habit of eyeing people with caution. Beverley’s sister, May, would no doubt have told Annabelle all about him. Or, as much as she knew, which wasn’t a lot. Even Beverley didn’t know the full story.
‘This house is lovely,’ Annabelle said, following him down the stairs.
He could tell she felt awkward and was trying to make conversation, but that was OK: he was used to people feeling awkward around him.
‘It is,’ he agreed, although personally he was far more impressed with the view than the building. ‘How was your journey?’ Listen to him doing small talk!
‘Long. The M4 around Newport was horrendous.’ She aimed the key fob at the car and unlocked it. He recognised the vehicle as belonging to May.
‘Beverley tells me you’re staying in the UK for good?’ He hoisted one case out of the boot and reached for a second.
‘That’s right.’ Her answer was short, her voice clipped and tight.
It was none of his business and he had no idea why he’d even mentioned it. He’d learned long ago not to pry. Everyone had a story, but not everyone wanted to share.
‘I bet the weather is better over there,’ he said. Dear Lord, he was doing that small talk thing again.
She shrugged. ‘It definitely is, even if it is winter in Cairns right now. We do get rain though.Theyget rain,’ she amended quietly.
He noticed her correction. She clearly thought of herself as Australian, and he guessed it must be hard for her to adjust. How long had she lived there? He vaguely recalled Beverley mentioning twenty years or so, but he hadn’t taken a great deal of notice at the time.
