They’d opened the red, green and white Italian flag blinds at 6 a.m. precisely, to find no one waiting. Lou’s heart had sunk into her boots, and even big hard Debra Devine looked close to tears.
Then, from nowhere, like the zombies in Dawn of the Dead, only pinker and infinitely more benign, lumberjack shirts and denim jackets began to head across the car park towards them, and lorries and vans and cars started to turn onto their land.
And the only thing both of them could think of to say was, ‘Mamma bloody mia!’
And now it was a year on, and Deb was having the flirtatious time of her life behind that counter and her best friend had been on an Italian honeymoon, acquired a husband and given birth to a son–in that order. Lou’s eyes were still full of Venetian sunshine, and a certain gentleman of Italian extraction was managing to keep the brightness burning there quite adequately.
The planned phasing-out of the breakfast side of the business hadn’t happened. It was too popular, and though it shouldn’t under any circumstances have worked that the afternoon tea set sat comfortably amongst big hairy-arsed lorry drivers, both worlds met and colluded in fabulous harmony. Little old ladies, business folk, students and men built like barn doors all tucked into Brando breakfasts in the mornings and then, in the afternoons, devoured the most wonderful cakes. Mamma’s, it was reported in the local–then national–press, was the most bizarre place in the world and had to be seen and experienced. They’d even had the Morning Coffee TV team down there. The presenter Drusilla Durham had sat with Lou for nearly two hours after the cameras had stopped rolling. She’d been fascinated by Lou’s clutter-clearing adventure and had left with a full notepad, a roll of binliners and the hope in her heart that she’d find the same fire that blazed in Lou Broom’s eyes.
Tom suddenly clicked his fingers. ‘I meant to tell you. I’ve just seen Phil.’
‘Oh, where was he?’ said Lou.
‘Driving. He looked very intense.’
‘Doesn’t he always?’ said Deb, heading for the loo before the rush of customers started.
Deb would never forgive him, but Lou wasn’t his enemy. He had given her the quickie divorce she’d asked for in the end, and even sent lots of her things around in big boxes. On the top was a letter wishing her well that must have taken a big gulping down of pride to write. And he thanked her for alerting him to the fact that Sharon’s children probably weren’t his. The eye formula wasn’t as simple as Tom remembered it from his biology lessons at school–that two blue-eyed people couldn’t have brown-eyed children–but it was a strong enough basis for Phil to demand a DNA test. This had revealed that he was not the twins’ father, after all.
‘He’ll be happy enough with his lot,’ said Lou. ‘He has his car business and that’s all he really needs. Now me–I feel as if I own the whole world because of what I’ve got.’
‘And let’s look at what you have got, Lou: a nocturnal greedy little son, a big ugly skip man and a daft dog named after George Clooney.’
The daft dog in question lifted an ear, then dropped it and settled his head back in his paws with a happy sigh.
‘And what have you got, Mr Broom? A plump little midget who bakes buns.’
‘You’re all I could ever want, Mrs Broom. Angelo mio, ti amo passionatamente.’
‘Take me to bed, Mr Broom.’ The eyes of Shaun Casserly’s daughter glittered Irish-green and mischievously at him.
‘You are so for it when you get home, Mrs Broom.
‘I’m not sure I can wait that long, Mr Broom.’
‘Trust me, it’ll be worth it,’ said Tom Broom–who later hijacked his wife at their front door, lifted her effortlessly, Prince-Charming-style into his arms, and carried her upstairs.
Table of Contents
Cover
Abouth the Author
Also by Milly Johnson
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Epilogue
A Spring Affair Page 38
