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‘Holly? Is everything okay? You sound stressed.’

Rather than replying, Holly took a deep breath in, hoping the silence would be enough of an answer for Jamie to come over and get the flowers pronto.

Holly was stressed, but in her defence, she had a lot of things to be stressed about. In two hours, she was going to see her boyfriend Evan, who she hadn’t seen since she left the south of France over three weeks ago, the holiday where they’d first met. It was safe to say this was going to be a flying visit. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d be gone again. Back to London to prepare for another trip abroad. But it wasn’t seeing Evan that was worrying her. No, she was looking forward to that. What was worrying her was the fact that they were meeting at her dad’s sixtieth birthday party.

Taking another deep breath in, she tried to quench the torrent of nerves that had been plaguing her for days.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Evan to meet her family. She did. Especially Hope. But she had wanted to do it gradually. Not to mention getting a little time to see him on her own first.

Now, Evan’s first visit was going to involve meeting Hope, Holly’s parents, her parents’ neighbours, and their friends, not to mention every long-lost relative that showed up. The thought of it all was what was stressing her out, although not half as much as the flowers were.

‘Hol? You still there? I asked how big this bunch of flowers is?’

The sound of Jamie’s voice reminded Holly she was still on the phone.

‘This one’s too big for the house. I mean, the other two were big, but this one’s enormous. I had to put it in the bath overnight, but Hope was grabbing handfuls of petals and shoving them down the toilet. It’s a miracle she didn’t block it, though I’m pretty sure she ate some too. Honestly, I can’t cope with this.’

An unsympathetic chuckle travelled down the line.

‘It must be so difficult to have a boyfriend who sends you enormous bunches of flowers,’ Jamie said sarcastically. ‘I can’t imagine how terrible that is for you. So, are you looking forward to seeing him?’

Holly groaned, a full belly groan that made her heart ache.

‘So much. I can’t believe it’s only been three weeks. Feels like it’s been forever.’

‘And the fact you’ve only actually spent four days together. I can’t believe how smitten you two are.’

‘Me neither,’ Holly admitted.

It was ridiculous, Holly knew that. The last time she’d seen Evan was at the airport in London. While she had got a train back to the Cotswolds, he had hopped straight back on another plane, first class over to America, where he had been working ever since. Every day, they had talked on the telephone, or messaged if they couldn’t manage that. But the time difference made it tricky. It felt like every time they’d tried to speak, one of them had been busy – Evan with meetings or business dinners and Holly with the shop or trying to clean up smashed avocado out of Hope’s hair. To say she was excited about having him there in person was an understatement.

‘So, what time is he getting here?’ Jamie said, clearly keen to get as much information about Evan’s imminent arrival as possible.

‘He messaged about an hour ago to say he was through immigration, but apparently there’s been some trouble with the luggage, so he’s going to meet me at Mum and Dad’s.’

‘Well, good luck. Your parents will love him, you know they will.’

‘I know, of course they will. Sorry, Jamie, I’d better go. I can hear Ben and Hope coming now. But you won’t forget to come and get the flowers, will you?’

‘No, I’ll use my spare key if you’re not in.’

‘Thank you. Love you loads.’

‘Love you too.’

There was a time in her life when Holly would have thought it ridiculous to tell her friends that she loved them. That, she thought, was the type of thing reserved for American teen dramas, or overly emotional, middle-class women who called everyone darling, with an extra-long ‘a’ sound. But the truth was, she loved her friends. They weren’t like the friends she’d had in London, who she sent a message to when she needed someone to go for a drink or to visit a new exhibition with. Caroline and Jamie had been with her through thick and thin. Her friends here in Bourton were her family. And with Ben being Hope’s father, he really was.

Having already heard them coming up the driveway, Holly swung open the door before they reached it, which resulted in a whoop of delight from Hope.

‘Hey there, my little girl,’ Holly said, as Hope stretched out her arms from her pram. After unbuckling the straps, Holly scooped Hope up into her arms and squeezed her tightly. ‘Have you been a good girl for Daddy? Did you have fun?’

‘Oh, we had lots of fun,’ Ben said, with a dry tone that implied his afternoon had been anything but.

‘What happened?’ A flood of concern filled Holly. Schedule wise, she should really have had Hope, but Ben had been awayin London earlier in the week and wanted a little more time with her.

‘Oh, it was entirely my fault,’ Ben said with a roll of his eyes. ‘I thought that soft play would be calm, and she’d be content in the baby pit. Nope. Every time I glanced at my phone, or tried to strike up a conversation with a dad next to me, she’d bolt off into the grown-up kids’ part. Do you know how quickly our child can crawl?’

‘Oh, I know,’ Holly said. She had only turned her back on her for thirty seconds to grab a clean top that morning when Hope had raced off to the bathroom to shove the flowers down the toilet bowl.