Page 48 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘Hi there,’ the proprietor greeted him as he approached the counter. This must be Polly, Leo thought. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’ve come to pick up a dress for my aunt, Violet Crosbie,’ Leo replied. ‘She said you’d been altering it for her?’
‘Ah, yes, just give me a sec.’ Polly vanished into the back room, and Leo cast his eyes around the shop. It was mostly womenswear, but he noticed a small rack of gents’ clothing off to the left. Nothing that caught his eye, particularly, but Polly had a nice selection. The shop had a pleasant atmosphere, and Polly’s eye for colour meant that the rails and stands of clothing on their wooden hangers looked attractive, and invited customers to browse. She’d put together a window display of autumnal colours, deep reds, oranges and dark browns, that was orchestrated to catch the eye of passing tourists and locals alike.
‘Here we go.’ Polly was back promptly. ‘That’ll be thirty-five pounds, please.’
Leo handed over his card and the transaction was completed promptly.
‘So, a little bird tells me that you’re going to be taking over Roseford Villas soon,’ Polly said as she carefully wrapped the dress in tissue paper. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ Leo replied. He remembered how fast news travelled in the village, and he wasn’t surprised that the word was already out about the change of ownership. ‘I really enjoyed looking after it in the summer, so it seemed like the next logical step.’
‘Well, I wish you the best of luck,’ Polly replied, handing over the dress, which she’d slipped into a pretty paper bag with the store’s logo on it. ‘Having a small business is a heck of a learning curve, but it’s worth every minute.’
‘I’ll remember to come to you if I have any questions.’ Leo smiled.
‘Do,’ Polly replied. ‘As I’m sure you noticed when you were here over the summer, we’re a real network here, and I’m know that anyone on the high street would be happy to help, if you need us. Lizzie Warner, who owns the florist a couple of doors down, is a good friend, and she was in marketing before she tookon the flower shop, so she’s always got great ideas about how to drum up trade. We’ve got an informal local business group going, if you fancy coming along to that when you get settled.’
Leo smiled again. He was touched by her concern and offer of help, and although his aunt and uncle would be on hand for a few more months, he was glad to know that there would be people around who he could call upon for advice if he needed it.
‘Thanks,’ he said, as he put his card back in his wallet. ‘That all sounds really helpful, and it would be great to make some connections and do some networking, see how we can all help each other out.’ But as he spoke, he noticed that Polly’s gaze had shifted as the bell above the shop’s front door tinkled, signalling the entrance of another customer.
‘Ah, so you’re back again, then?’ Polly replied, a teasing note in her voice directed at the new customer. ‘Can’t keep away from the place now?’
Leo automatically glanced around to see the new arrival, and as he did so, he nearly dropped the carrier bag he was holding. There, standing in the doorway, a look of shock and surprise written all over her face, was Rory.
56
Rory, who found herself at a loose end, had decided to have a wander into the village for a coffee and a browse at Roseford Reloved. Since she’d spotted the cashmere jumper a few weeks back, she’d been popping back in, buying smaller things, but not quite taking the plunge on the item that had attracted her in the first place. Perhaps today was the day. She had been feeling the cold lately, and the thought of a cosy new jumper to keep out the chill was a comforting one. And a little luxury wasn’t a bad thing, especially when she’d been working so hard at her new school, on her novel and on preparing revisions to the romance course she was going to be leading once again in the new year. As she pushed open the door and heard the cheery ping of the bell above her head, she looked to the counter, and her smile of greeting for Polly froze on her face. What the heck was Leodoing here?
‘Um, yeah,’ she managed, as she realised she hadn’t answered Polly’s cheerful question about her return. ‘I, er, thought I’d finally come back for the jumper, the grey one I spotted a few weeks back, if you’ve still got it?’
Polly gave her a quizzical look, before she nodded. ‘I popped it out in the stock room,’ she said as she dug it out. ‘I thought you’d be back for it eventually. I have an instinct for these things. I won’t be a tick…’ She went to go out the back again.
‘Actually, never mind,’ Rory replied hastily. ‘I’ll, er, I’ll come back some other time. I’m, er, in a bit of a rush…’ She couldn’t do this right now. She wasn’t prepared for seeing Leo again. She might have composed all manner of texts to him that she still hadn’t sent, but now she felt completely robbed of the ability to form a coherent sentence. Leo looked utterly gorgeous in that navy jumper and jacket, with his hair, a little longer than it had been back in the summer, tumbling carelessly over his brow. She’d forgotten just how attractive he was, and how he had the ability to turn her knees to the consistency of custard whenever he looked at her that way.
‘All right,’ Polly replied, a look of concern crossing her face. ‘Well, I can keep it back for you for a little bit longer. Just let me know, yeah?’
‘I will.’ Rory turned quickly, and before she could hesitate, she rushed back out of the shop.
How could he be here? How could she not have known? She was so torn. On the one hand, she wanted to linger, to talk to him, but on the other, the memory of that last, mortifying encounter between them still felt as though it had happened yesterday.
‘Rory!’ His voice calling out to her stayed her rapid progress down the main street. ‘Rory, wait, please.’
It was the ‘please’ that finally made her stop. He sounded so desperate, and she never could resist him when he pleaded. With a deep breath, she turned around.
‘Leo? What are you doing here?’ As she finally slowed down, her knees started to tremble. ‘I thought you were in London.’ She gripped hold of the wicker shopping basket she’d broughtout with her for dear life, watching the leaves of the potted basil plant she’d bought from Southgate’s Stores shaking as much as she was. She felt mortified that he could still have this effect on her.
‘I was,’ Leo said, giving her a nervous, tentative smile. ‘Look, can we talk? I texted you yesterday, when Aunt Vi told me she’d heard you were back, but…’
Rory shook her head. ‘I left my phone up at Roseford Hall last night, in the archive room. I was so bushed after spending all day up there that I didn’t realise until I looked for it this morning. I was going to pop and get it when I’d finished my shopping.’ She was sure she didn’t imagine the look of relief that flitted over Leo’s face as she said that.
‘Do you mind if I walk up with you?’ Leo asked. ‘I’d, er, I’d really like to talk to you about how things ended between us.’
Rory tried a nonchalant shrug, but merely succeeded in upending the pot of basil in her shopping basket. ‘Bugger,’ she muttered, as she righted it. Smiling briefly at Leo, she conceded. ‘Sure.’
They fell into step with each other along Roseford’s historic main street, dodging the tourists that were ambling at their own pace.
