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A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde. Bella OsborneЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde - Bella  Osborne


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friend, Charlie, is not all she pretends to be,’ said Ruth to Ted, before leaning towards Charlie. ‘I know about your past and because of that I can dismiss you without notice. But, like I said, I think you’ll find I’ve been more than generous in the circumstances.’

      Charlie slowly sucked in a steadying breath. ‘Ruth I am going to call the solicitor and take advice from him about this situation. Would you both like a cup of tea?’ asked Charlie, looking from Ruth to Sally and back again. Ruth was eyeing Charlie suspiciously, perhaps this wasn’t the reaction she was expecting or hoping for.

      On Charlie’s suggestion Ted took Ruth and Sally into the living room whilst Charlie and Fleur went to the kitchen. Fleur put the kettle on.

      ‘This has worked out quite well,’ said Fleur, distracting Charlie from dialling the solicitor’s number.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You can leave here with a big fat cheque, have a few weeks’ holiday away somewhere, then start the new job. I’d say that’s great timing!’

      Charlie blinked hard. She was tired and she did need a holiday, but what she wanted above everything was a family holiday like the ones she used to go on when the Cobleys were alive, not a week on her own. ‘Fleur, the children need me.’

      Fleur gave a reticent smile. ‘Perhaps it’s time to give in gracefully?’ she said, taking Charlie’s hand and giving it a supportive squeeze. ‘Ruth’s got a Norland Nanny for the children. They don’t come any better than that, Charlie. The Royal Family have Norland Nannies. Ooh, I wonder if Sally has met the Queen…’

      Charlie shook her head and left Fleur to make the tea and prattle on while she phoned Jonathan Steeple. Thankfully he was available and was quick to respond once Charlie had read him the letter.

      ‘The guardianship has not been formally agreed and Miss Talbot does not have the authority to terminate your employment,’ said Jonathan, and Charlie felt relief wash over her, although she still felt quite sick.

      ‘Thank you. That’s brilliant news. Now what do we do about Miss Talbot and her Nanny, who are sitting in the living room?’

      ‘Let me speak to her, would you?’ asked Jonathan.

      ‘With pleasure,’ said Charlie, as she hurried Fleur and two clinking cups and saucers up the stairs. They entered the living room and Fleur put the drinks on the low table and sat on the sofa to watch the proceedings. Sally was perched on the edge of a chair, looking uncomfortable, and her cup and saucer rattled when she picked them up.

      ‘Ruth, I have Jonathan Steeple on the phone and he would like to speak to you,’ said Charlie, as she tried to hand her the phone.

      ‘I do not wish to speak to him.’

      Charlie thrust the phone towards her. ‘I think you should.’

      Ruth picked up her cup and saucer and Charlie now had nowhere to hand the phone to. She spoke into the receiver, ‘She won’t speak to you. What should I do?’

      Jonathan suggested that she put the phone on loudspeaker, which she did, and she placed it on the coffee table near Ruth.

      ‘Miss French is employed legally by the Cobley Executors. They and only they can terminate her employment and…’ started Jonathan.

      ‘Unless that employment was based on lies,’ said Ruth, before taking a sip of her tea.

      ‘Hold on, Jonathan,’ said Charlie. ‘What lies, Ruth?’

      ‘You have been in trouble with the police. If my sister had known that she would not have employed you. Therefore you got this job on false pretences; therefore you have breached the terms of your employ. I spoke to a solicitor too.’ Charlie’s head started to spin and she sat down on the sofa with an inelegant thump. All the old memories and emotions so well buried surged up and momentarily took her breath away.

      Ted was sitting forward, looking worried. ‘Is that true?’

      Charlie swallowed hard and tried to compose herself. ‘It is true about me being in trouble a very long time ago, yes. But your parents were aware of my background and they employed me knowing that.’

      ‘I can vouch for that,’ said Fleur. ‘My parents introduced Charlie to the Cobleys and they are the most honest people on the planet. I can call them if you like?’

      There was a moment where everyone’s eyes were darting around the room but nobody spoke. Eventually there was a noise from the telephone and they all tuned back in to Jonathan.

      ‘There is no reason to believe that Mr and Mrs Cobley were not aware of Miss French’s record and I repeat that legally only the executors can dismiss her. We should have been consulted before you did this, Miss Talbot, and…

      Charlie cut in and addressed Ruth, ‘And you should leave before I call the police and have you removed,’ said Charlie, her face starting to colour. She picked up the phone and took it off loudspeaker. ‘Thank you, Mr Steeple, you’ve been ace, good-bye.’ Charlie ended the call.

      Sally looked shocked and placed her rattling cup and saucer back on the table. ‘I should leave,’ said Sally, standing up and facing Ruth. ‘Good-bye, Miss Talbot, perhaps we should speak once these issues have been resolved,’ she added, before heading for the door double-quick.

      ‘Good decision, Sally. Lovely to meet you. Nice hat,’ said Charlie.

      ‘This isn’t over,’ said Ruth, rising to her feet. ‘I will not rest while these children are in the care of a convict.’

      Fleur was pleased to be back in her own little car, albeit crawling along the M25. She was even more pleased to find that her car was still in one piece and had all its wheels, but she had known that the neighbourhood watch were a vigilant lot. There had been a surprise; there was a note left on her car. At first she had held it in her hands, a little afraid to open it, assuming that the message inside would be something abusive. But the only way to find out was to unfold and read it. As soon as she opened out the scrap of white paper she recognised Rob’s slopey handwriting. She read the note and looked around, expecting to see him appear nearby or to be watching her from a window. But he wasn’t there. His car wasn’t there either.

      As she drove home, Fleur was still trying to work out if the note was a nice surprise or not. She turned up her latest favourite song and sang along. She glanced across at the passenger seat and the small, simple white business card with its blue edging. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken it without checking with Charlie, but it was Charlie who had told her to take control, to show her parents that she could sort out her own problems. She had even told her to get a solicitor, and there on a shelf in the Cobley’s hall had been their solicitor’s business card and from the loudspeaker Mr Steeple had sounded like he knew what he was doing and he had a nice voice, which made him ideal, in Fleur’s view.

      As soon as she got home she had to have a much-needed talk with her parents. Charlie was right, she needed to be in charge of her own life and a good start would be to come clean about last night’s escapade. Fleur knew she was drifting in life, the sudden void after the wedding had told her that and it had to stop. The question was, if she wasn’t drifting, what was she doing? And right now Fleur had absolutely no idea.

      Charlie hated the feeling that she was fast running out of options and after some thought she decided that it might be worth a call to Ted’s birth father. The last thing she wanted to do was split the family up, but if there was anything that held the merest possibility it was worth checking out.

      ‘Anthony Penton,’ said the brusque male voice.

      ‘Hello. You don’t know me, but I’m Charlie, Helen and Toby Cobley’s nanny. Have you got a minute?’

      ‘Not really.’

      ‘But it’s important…’ started Charlie, but Anthony Penton talked over her.

      ‘Fine. I’ll call you back,’ he said and the line went dead. Charlie stared


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