Page 56 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lola

Lola blinked hard at the vision running towards her.

It couldn’t be! And yet somehow it was. Monty Beauchamp-Carmichael, dressed in a purple suit with gold trim.

He looked like a Quality Street! What the heck was going on?

Sometimes cricketers got dolled up for award ceremonies in crisp white suits and the like.

But purple and gold? It was a bit blimming theatrical.

She couldn’t believe that he was heading for London too, that he’d just missed the train.

Tears welled in Lola’s eyes as she pressed her face to the window until Monty became a small purple dot.

Just like they had on the bus that evening.

But she’d made her mind up for good. No going back.

This shock coincidence, and the likelihood of him taking the next train in half an hour’s time, didn’t change that.

Okay, she would have to return to Bath after this week of cat sitting for another fluffball.

But there would be no more putting herself through horrendously belittling ordeals.

This summer had served up enough of them. Lola and Monty were through.

As the changing landscape rolled by, she tried not to wonder what would have happened if Monty had got on the same train; if he’d ended up sitting in the same carriage, if the spare seat next to her might have been destined for him, since, so far, nobody else had taken it.

Thankfully, the Great Western tea trolley wheeled down the aisle and she was so cross with herself for fantasising about these Sliding Doors possibilities that she ended up buying another of their bone-dry flapjacks and a powdery hot chocolate to help it go down.

They pulled into Reading. People got off, people got on.

But after ten minutes of waiting at the station, it was clear there was a problem.

Lola was intrigued to see the guard pointing continuously at the top of the train.

A couple of his colleagues came over to size up the issue.

And now the driver was joining in, too. Great.

They’d broken down, apparently. She’d need to get on one of those agonisingly slow replacement buses to finish the journey to London.

Fumiko’s cousin, Isamu, had already been let down at the last minute by his regular cat sitter who’d taken on a better paying opportunity in Cornwall.

At this rate, Lola would be late for the handover and the extra cash was too much to let slip through her fingers, especially since she’d emailed Harry her notice this morning.

Lola needed everything to run smoothly during this week in London.

She had so many plans to set up further meetings with the theatres she’d already spoken to, plus all of the others on her radar, and a heap of hotels.

If she was being honest with herself, she could see herself living there too.

Not just for a fresh start but because the heart of her business was based in the capital.

She could still flit between London and Bath to check on her parents.

If there was one thing she’d learnt since yesterday, it was that no matter how much she loved her mum and dad, it was time to start putting herself first.

Five more minutes ticked by, then ten. Lola stifled a scream and decided to venture out onto the platform, copying some of her fellow passengers. Not that she knew how to fix a train, but somebody outside must have an inkling of what was going on, and, because of that, everybody’s fate.

But when she alighted and turned to look at the hiccup, she found herself gasping, first in disbelief, and then in a quiet kind of delight. What if… this was a sign?

Of all the moments in time for a little ginger cat to stubbornly curl itself up in a cosy ball on top of a train, purring away contentedly, in no rush to get down, not giving a damn if it delayed everybody’s travel plans!

Somehow Lola Smith knew this Squiffy lookalike was trying to tell her something. Now she had to quickly figure out what.