She shrugged. “I’ve been saving some for a rainy day, so I had more than I thought to bring. The blankets are quite popular.”
I ran my fingers over a pale yellow and pink one adorned with flowers. “I can see why. They’re lovely and soft.”
She smiled again, and I waved her goodbye as I continued walking through the market space. I had no idea how my mother had wrangled turning this from a small craft market into thelarge festival it had become, but it was truly magical what she could achieve when she put her mind to it.
I still wanted to know what she had on the mayor, though.
I checked in on each stall as I walked, making sure everyone was doing okay. By the time I reached the park where the goat yoga was finally underway, I had a free coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other.
Hey, this wasn’t half bad.
I claimed the only free bench in view and sat on the end of it, gently holding my coffee between my thighs. My phone had buzzed in my bag a few times, but I’d barely had a chance to check on it until now.
I’d been helping kids pot up young sunflowers they could take home, after all.
I bit into my sandwich, set it on my lap, and turned my attention to my phone. I had three unread messages from Oliver, one from my mother, another from Isa, and one telling me my Amazon order had just been delivered.
Smashing.
I replied to my mother, told Isa to stop complaining and shag Shaun if she was that bothered about the women flirting with him, and checked Oliver’s messages as a fourth one came through.
OLIVER: I forgot how busy it is here.
OLIVER: I think Hanbury has broken me.
OLIVER: But it’s still not as noisy as you.
OLIVER: My mother said the goats are on a rampage. Did you co-ordinate that by any chance?
That was rude.
I hadn’t, but a part of me kind of wished I was responsible for it.
ME: No, they did it all on their own, but there’s no telling when I will organise a goat uprising.
OLIVER: Not much about you scares me anymore, but that threat is particularly terrifying.
ME: Good to know I haven’t totally lost my touch.
ME: And it’s not Hanbury’s fault you’re not used to London. You’re the one who keeps refusing to go away.
OLIVER: I have to stay. Who else will protect the estate from silly string and water balloons?
ME: Hey, I haven’t thrown water balloons at your McMansion.
OLIVER: Yet.
ME: Well, if you insist…
OLIVER: I am not insisting.
ME: Then why are you giving me ideas?
OLIVER: Maybe I should come home.
Home.
He’d just referred to Hanbury as home.