‘Two!’ Steve shouts back.
‘One and a quarter,’ Lucy corrects him as my face pulls into a series of confused scrunches. ‘I’m pregnant! Boy, that was a weird way to tell you. But I didn’t want to overshadow your birthday.’
‘Are you kidding?! This is brilliant! Oh wait—’ I tuck the blanket fully around her and move a footstool under her ankles. ‘How do you feel? What do you need?’
‘Oh no no no!’ She wags a finger at me. ‘No caretaking tonight. In fact, no amateur caretaking full stop. You’re starting a whole new decade and a whole new career,’
Steve singsongs over his suds, ‘– and maybe a whole new roooooomance!’
‘Yes, and that. You’re no longer responsible for everyone else in your life being happy and sorted, just yourself. Capiche?’
Steve comes in and takes a seat on the armrest of the saggy sofa. ‘I love it when she talks like a pint-sized mobster. But she has a point. You’ve done your bit for Hazlehurst, Cons. Now it’s time to be the caretaker of Connie Duncan and only Connie Duncan.’
I look at the knackered but contented faces of two of my best friends. And I think of Flip tucking her noisy brood into bed, and Susannah casting her eye over cigarette pants and camel coats. Polly stitching words of love by day and skating with Dom by night. The bouncing babies at the coffee shop (and – squee! – having Lucy and the new baby join them soon). Mum digging her toes in the sand, side by side with a tall, balding man. And yes, even the briefest image of Alex and a bowl of prawn crackers comes to mind.
This is my community. This is my Hazlehurst. I’m so lucky to be here.
And don’t worry, Gran, even if they tell me to stop taking care of them, I’m still going to do it. Just a bit. When they’re not looking.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my amazingly supportive and inspiringly productive writerly mates – Juliet Ashton, Michele Gorman, Victoria Fox, Kirsty Greenwood and Vanessa Greene being those with the most saintly patience required to be able to listen to me over the years.
Thank you to my parents and partner for giving me lots of coffee shop breaks from Mum Duty so I could disappear into Hazlehurst and put Connie through her paces. Thank you to the lovely Pret team near my office who didn’t mind me stretching out one cup of tea every morning while I beavered away on my trusty laptop! See you again soon…
A huge and heartfelt thank you to Louise Cullen at Canelo, an editor with the gentlest but wisest approach, for taking a chance on this book. I hope it repays your trust and then some. It’s a privilege to be published, and I’m still pinching myself. Also big thanks to Iain Millar, Michael Bhaskar, Nick Barreto and Simon Collinson for all your amazing work and for welcoming me into the Canelo family. I feel very lucky to be here. And not forgetting massive massive thanks to Sarah for opening the door to Canelo for me.
And thank you to YOU, lovely reader, for buying this book. I hope it brings a bit of fun to your commute or tea break or bath. And if leaves you with an urge to make bunting – even better!
First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Poppy Dolan, 2017
The moral right of Poppy Dolan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591252
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The Bluebell Bunting Society Page 20
