by Lucy Coleman
Shellie’s forehead lifts as she pulls one of her renowned is that wise? faces.
‘I guessed as much, but have you actually spelt that out to Mum?’
‘What, that I want to dig around and find out more about Grandma’s time in France? Well, I sort of assumed she’d take that for granted. I’m a journalist, after all, and I’ll be in Versailles with time on my hands.’
‘Good luck with that, then, as 1961 was a long time ago.’ She rolls her eyes, clearly thinking any spare time I have could be better utilised.
‘I loved Grandma Viv’s stories about her childhood – she was a natural storyteller. You missed a lot not joining us in the garden, you know.’
Shelley bats her eyelashes at me. ‘That’s why your hands were always so filthy as a child and, besides, you were her undisputed favourite. She knew it was never my thing, anyway.’
‘Well, I think you missed out. But as for her French adventure, well, it was strange because she wouldn’t talk about it. I mean, what did Granddad think? They met, she was offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to head off to France on a year’s work experience and when she returned home, they were married. But she never once, as far as I can tell, mentioned her year away.
‘Even in the letters she sent to Granddad she was secretive, and I have no idea why I had to talk Mum into letting me borrow the memory box. It’s not like there’s anything in there to hide, as the letters were simply little updates between them. But I am curious about what isn’t there, aren’t you? I mean, a year apart is a long time and I wonder what Granddad really felt about coming second to her other grand passion in life.’
Shellie looks at me, a hint of a frown working its way over her brow. ‘This is precisely why I worry about you sometimes. When you get an idea in your head you simply won’t give up. Grandma Viv had her own little adventure before settling down and if Granddad respected that, so should you.’
There are times when I find it hard to believe the two of us share any genes. How can Shellie shrug it off so easily when it’s always been such a secret?
‘But it’s a part of our family history. Aren’t you in the least bit curious? I wish she’d been around for much longer but at least some of her feisty spirit lives on in us. And now I want to discover the woman she was before she became our grandma. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Her passion for horticulture never left her, but she turned her back on what could have been a very promising career for the love of one man. Don’t you think that’s an interesting story?’
‘See! You’re thinking of making a documentary out of it already! You and Jake are just like Dad. That drive is all well and good, but don’t you ever long to switch off that mind of yours? Or simply let something be, because some things aren’t meant to be aired to the world?’ Exasperation is making the pitch in Shellie’s voice rise up a level.
‘Don’t you want a husband and a Maisie of your own, one day? She’d love a cousin at some point in the not-too-distant future and if that ends up being from Jake, then I doubt they’ll ever meet. I’m pinning my hopes on you, Lexie.’
The look she gives me feels like a reprimand.
‘I love being an auntie because it’s the best of both worlds. I get to enjoy and spoil her, then hand her back.’ I give Shellie a grin.
‘So, you’re not missing the gorgeous Will, then?’
All my boyfriends seem to come and go, but that’s life. The initial buzz just fades away with time, or it always has so far, anyway.
‘No. It was fun, though, for a while. But seriously, Will works hard but parties even harder and I have more important things on which to expend my energy.’
The look my sister gives me is full of disapproval.
‘Tick tock, Lexie. You’re thirty next year and that’s a big deal whether you want to acknowledge it, or not. I just worry that you’re sinking everything into this project and what if it’s not quite what you hope it’s going to be?’
Just like Mum. ‘Stop worrying about me. I don’t need a man in my life right now. I’ve never found one quite like your Drew. Maybe one day I will, but, in the meantime, I’m not going to wish my life away. If the right one pops up and grabs my attention, then fine. But this project is my baby and I’m going to nurture it every step of the way like the fussiest of mothers.’
Shellie throws her hands in the air.
‘You’re a lost cause. What is it with this family? Am I the only one who inherited anything at all from our mother?’
I lean in to throw my arms around her.
‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate that you always have my best interests at heart. Or that you give it to me straight when you’re worried. But this is my dream and I’m fed up of people holding me back. I mean… I’m not saying that’s what you’re doing, but after the thing with Jake… Being sacked by one’s own brother was beyond humiliating. He never even asked for my side of the story, and when your own flesh and blood gets rid of you without a second thought, well, everyone around you tends to think the worst.’
She sighs, looking into my eyes, and I know deep down she understands.
‘It closed a lot of doors, but you’ve made it, Lexie. People recognise your face everywhere you go and you are a daytime TV star. What more could you possibly do to prove yourself? At some point you need to relax a little.’
‘Standing still isn’t an option, Shellie. I want to show everyone that I have what it takes to be a producer. And besides, this won’t be all work. I’m going to immerse myself in the French way of life and you know that old saying, a change is as good as a rest. Versailles, here I come!’
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We hope you enjoyed this extract from A Springtime to Remmeber. You can order a copy my clicking on the image below:
About the Author
Lucy Coleman is a #1 bestselling romance writer, whose recent novels include Snowflakes over Holly Cove. She also writes under the name Linn B. Halton. She won the 2013 UK Festival of Romance: Innovation in Romantic Fiction award and lives in the Welsh Valleys.
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First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
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Copyright © Lucy Coleman, 2020
Cover Design by Alice Moore Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock
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The moral right of Lucy Coleman 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 book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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Paperback ISBN 978-1-83889-179-4
Ebook ISBN 978-1-83889-181-7
Kindle ISBN 978-1-83889-180-0
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-83889-177-0
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