pulled a face at him. ‘Unless you want my levels to rocket through the roof. Dad, what are you like?’ she laughed.
‘Oops, sorry.’ Sam smarted, instantly remembering the early mistakes he had made, when he had inadvertently bought her a can of Coke at the May Fair once, without realising it wasn’t sugar-free. Chrissie had intervened just in time by swiping it from him as he handed it to their eleven-year-old daughter, whose face had lit up like a Christmas tree. Holly had still been getting to grips with managing her diabetes, and accepting that she couldn’t have the treats that she had been used to, so ended up crying and shouting at Chrissie for being mean and ‘ruining her whole day.’ Chrissie had got irritated with him for not concentrating properly, and the incident had put them all in a bad mood that afternoon. He realised now that it must have been hard for Chrissie … she was only trying to do her best by Holly. No wonder she had walked off in a huff when he had suggested she lighten up. Dolly was right … he had to look at what went wrong and work out how to fix it. He turned to Holly. ‘Milk or water, what would you prefer, love?’
‘Daaad, I’m not a five year old,’ Holly huffed, slipping her patent pink satchel off her shoulder and down onto the tiled floor. ‘I do know how to choose a drink all by myself.’
‘Your dad just cares, that’s all,’ Dolly appeased, giving Sam a sympathetic smile.
‘Sorry, Dad,’ Holly said, grinning sweetly, and then, ‘I’ll just have water, please.’
‘No worries, sweetheart. So, how are you? And how is Mum?’ Sam asked, and then quickly added, ‘Did she have a nice evening out after I came to see you?’
‘Mmm-hmm,’ Holly responded noncommittally, avoiding eye contact as she took the glass of water from Dolly. ‘Mum is good. She asked me to bring you these.’ Holly knelt down to her satchel and pulled out a lovely, gift-wrapped box covered in navy tissue with a red ribbon wrapped around.
‘Wow,’ Sam took the box, puzzled at this seeming change of heart. Chrissie sending gifts? What had brought this on? Sam felt confused, but tried to keep an open mind as he undid the ribbon and then unwrapped the tissue paper. ‘Very nice,’ he said, on seeing the logo on the box.
‘That’s right, salted caramel truffles, she went all the way to Market Briar to buy them specially,’ Holly said, nervously not drawing breath and wishing she’d bought that primer in Boots when she’d been there earlier – the one that is supposed to stop your face from going all red and blotchy.
‘Did she really?’ Sam’s heart lifted a little as this was quite a big olive branch. Expensive truffles were more Chrissie’s kind of thing than his. Not that he was complaining. He liked chocolate, but a bog-standard bar of Dairy Milk would have been just as welcome.
‘Yes, that’s right, Dad.’ Holly grinned, her heart swelling now as she got into the swing of things, figuring her fibs were for a good cause, after all. ‘She must have remembered when you bought them for her on Valentine’s Day that time,’ she eyed him, hoping he’d get it, ‘do you remember?’ He nodded. ‘So romantic,’ she added for good measure.
Sam smiled. Maybe Dolly was right, and there wasn’t another man. Maybe Chrissie was just meeting a friend after all, and actually did want to sort things out. And she had every right to be angry and disappointed with him after the way things had unravelled over the last year.
‘And she said that she’s really sorry for being so horrible to you.’ Holly drank some more of the water, before wiping her lips on the back of her hand. In for a penny, in for pound … that’s what Granny Dolly would say if she knew what I was trying to do right now. And she grinned some more, marvelling at how well her ‘Get Mum and Dad Back Together in Time for My Birthday’ plan was going. The wish was going to come true. At this rate Mum and Dad would be back together in no time at all!
‘Here.’ Dolly handed her a piece of kitchen roll and then turned to Sam. ‘Well, that’s very thoughtful. How about you drop Holly back home later and then you can thank Chrissie in person?’
‘Good idea,’ Sam nodded, suddenly feeling better than he had in ages.
On the Blackwood Farm Estate, Jude was fuming. After all the commotion outside, the officious Sylvia had insisted that she take off her muddy boots and leave them by the back door of the main house. And Lulu had been confined to a utility room where she could still be heard growling and yelping from somewhere over the other side of the house. Sam had gone home to make sure he was back in time to have tea with Holly, so Jude was on her own.
‘Myles, this is Jude Darling,’ Sylvia said as she ushered Jude into an enormous wood-panelled drawing room. ‘I didn’t have her name on my list, so if you could let me know next time,’ she added, rather pointedly Jude thought, before turning on her heel to leave (yes, she had been allowed to keep her brogues on, Jude noted).
Jude looked around. If Myles King was in this room, then he must be hiding, as she couldn’t see him. Sylvia must have made a mistake. Jude wasn’t sure what to do. Should she go after her? Or wait here? She knew what she’d love to do, and that would be to go and release Lulu from her makeshift prison cell, and then get the hell out of here. Fast.
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