“What makes you think I like her?” Monroe asked, intrigued by just how much she wanted to know the answer.
Kitty shrugged. “Simple. You wouldn’t show her my picture.”
“You know, for a kid, you’re pretty smart.” Monroe grinned.
Kitty beamed, proud of her deduction. “I’m a good detective, aren’t I?”
“You are. Better than some grown-ups I know.”
Kitty looked thoughtful for a moment. “Will she like me? Because if she doesn’t, then she’s not the one.”
Monroe’s smile softened. She reached out and took Kitty’s small hand in hers. “I think if she’s going to be part of our lives, she’ll have to like you a lot.”
“And she’ll have to like chips and pens.”
“Absolutely…but that’s a long way off yet. She’s nice, and I’d like to get to know her more. Even if we’re only friends, that might be okay too.”
“Everyone needs friends. I’ve got five.”
“Five? Wow, so many.”
Kitty held up her fingers, counting carefully. “Lara, because she always shares her pudding. Bella, even though she cries a lot. Freya, because she’s really fast and chases the boys away. Isla, but only sometimes, when she’s not being annoying. And you.”
Monroe raised an eyebrow. “Me? I made the list?”
Kitty gave a casual shrug. “You let me use pens. And you never make me eat bananas. And we always have fun.”
Monroe laughed, gently nudging Kitty’s shoulder. “Well, clearly I’m doing something right.”
Colouring in a palm tree with surprising focus, Kitty paused before saying, “So…when she comes next time, can we draw with her?”
“You haven’t even met her yet!”
“But I might like her—if you do.” Kitty looked up, serious now. “And if she’s kind.”
“She is,” Monroe said quietly, more to herself than to Kitty. “She seems like someone worth knowing.”
Kitty nodded once, then returned to her dinosaur. “Then we’ll save her a pen.”
Monroe leant back against the cushions, watching the little girl work intently. Something about the ease of the moment settled her—calm, expectant, and maybe even a little optimistic.
twenty
The cottage came into view just as the sky began to fill with clouds, evening light catching the edges of the trees and casting long shadows across the lane. Chloé slowed as she approached, spotting a car idling just outside Monroe’s gate.
In the front seat, a boy had his face dramatically squashed against the window, mouth flattened and fogging the glass.
She chuckled to herself. Charming.
The front door opened, and a woman stepped out, a small girl bouncing alongside her, mid-story. Chloé stopped just as they all reached the gate. It was the girl from the photo—Kitty.
“Hi there,” Chloé offered, giving a small wave.
“Are you here for Aunty Monroe?” Kitty asked.
“I am. I’m Chloé.”
Poppy and Kitty both stared for a moment before Kitty announced, “You’re Mon’s new girlfriend.”