About the Author
RACHEL LOUISE DOVE is a mum of two from Yorkshire. She has always loved writing and has had previous success as a self-published author. Rachel is the winner of the Mills & Boon & Prima Magazine Flirty Fiction competition and won The Writers Bureau Writer of the Year Award in 2016. She is a qualified adult education tutor specialising in child development and autism. In 2018 she founded the Rachel Dove Bursary, giving one working-class writer each year a fully funded place on the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme.
Also by Rachel Dove
The Chic Boutique on Baker Street
The Flower Shop on Foxley Street
The Long Walk Back
The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street
The Second Chance Hotel
Meet Me at Fir Tree Lodge
RACHEL DOVE
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020
Copyright © Rachel Dove
Rachel Dove asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008375836
Version: 2020-09-21
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Also by Rachel Dove
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
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
Acknowledgements
Extract
Dear Reader …
Keep Reading …
About the Publisher
To Peter
Ten years of marriage, two boys, and I still love you fiercely
(and your scrumptious bum)
Love George
Prologue
Giggling, Frank almost dropped his breakfast on the pavement as he exited the shop. A passing pigeon looked elated at the prospect, before it was snatched away, and the bird was left cooing crossly. Back to the discarded wrappers and food scraps it went as Frank sang down the street, his knees bouncing with every movement.
‘You only want me for my baps,’ she’d said. Frank was still chuckling at their little in-joke as he started up his car. Every weekday morning, she said the same to him, passing him his order with a happy smile that he’d grown accustomed to seeing. He looked forward to it. Marilyn always smiled, and she always set him up for the day. Even now, he was still grinning at her saucy humour.
The sun was shining in the suburbs of York as the silver BMW sprang to life, the occupant ready to get on with his regular journey. Pulling out of the side street, Frank took one hand off the wheel and waved at the woman in the shop window he’d just vacated. She saw him and waved back, and he drove off with a smile. It was Wednesday, which in Frank’s world meant driving to get a paper and a couple of soft bacon butties from Marilyn’s shop, before going to get his hair cut at Tony’s later in the afternoon.
With the fragrant smell of bacon and fresh bread in his nostrils, he pulled onto the main road, driving away from the small rows of shops that ran along the streets of Pocklington. Nearing the local primary school, he stopped for Audrey Shingles, the lollipop lady, as she brandished her huge stick and walked into the middle of the busy road. Frank nodded at her and watched the boys and girls all walk past, book bags and PE kits swinging from their hands as they were led across the road like baby ducklings. St Thomas’s was where his own son once went, and Frank felt a wave of nostalgia flow through him. Seeing a little boy with brown hair crossing the road, his bag almost as big as him, Frank made a mental note to call his own offspring when he got home.
He drove past the school, grinning at Audrey as she thanked him for stopping for the children. Audrey went to return his smile, but her face dropped a little as he drove by. Odd, he thought. Not her usual cheery self today. He drove past the school, easing out of the congestion. Away from the chatter at the school gates, the car grew quiet. Too quiet. He could hear a faint buzzing noise in his head, as though he’d just walked out of a Def Leppard concert feeling a little numb between the ears. Frank went to click on the radio, but his arm didn’t connect with the button. He tried again, but his left arm barely moved. Panic hit him like a wave of icy cold water, making his right arm wobble on the steering wheel. He pulled the car straight, his heart pumping in his chest. What was happening? He felt like he was tied to his seat. His heart beat faster. Boom boom boom in his ears. The pulsing made his head hurt. Feel woolly even.
‘What the …’ Frank spoke out loud, but it came out like a muffled waaa-faaaa sound. He tried again, his panic building as he used his good arm to slowly move to the side of the road. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded, given that his whole body was now leaning over to the middle of the car. Frank just couldn’t right himself, every movement was awkward, and tiring. Terrifying.
I have to stop this car.
The traffic had dropped off past the school gates, but rounding the corner
