he?â
âNo, he is not. And, though Iâd forgotten that Crick-howl is in south-west Wales, I
do
know that your father is. And you know that too.â
EIGHT
I t was not just the look of Carl that had dropped Chloëâs jaw and cranked long dormant cogs of concupiscence back into motion; more it was his manner, his voice especially. It was his twangy âYo Chlo!â that had hit her G-spot first, for he was still hidden in shadow when her ears were solicited. On closer inspection, a tall, lithe figure, blond of hair and blue of eye, was revealed. A generous smile presented a perfect set of ski-white teeth surrounded by lips like crimson velvet cushions. The smile was just slightly, but ever so alluringly, skew-whiff; causing a slight closing of the left eye, a deep dimple to the left cheek. There was a dimple in the right cheek too, but shallower. Chloë had an unbridled urge there and then to dab at the dimples with her tongue tip. It quite alarmed her but Carlâs outstretched hand brought her back to her senses which were, admittedly and rather awkwardly, on fire. She grabbed at his hand and shook it heartily, noting that it was warm, dry and smooth and that his wrists were gorgeous. She really ought not to look.
I donât even know where to look. Or how
.
âIâm Chloë,â she said, unintentionally huskily, âand your directions were absolutely appalling.â
âAh yih!â He threw back his head and roared a quick laugh â but long enough for Chloë to gaze at his masculine throat, his Adamâs apple vibrating most seductively.
âNever could tell my left from my right. Back home, no probs. Seaâs on the left, mountains are on the right.â
âAnd the âfew yardsâ?â
âHell, distances back home are so vast, you know? Here itâs all so cramped I just presume anywhereâs a few yards from everywhere!â
âWell, it looks like Iâm here!â Chloë acquiesced, privately thanking the heavens that she was.
âAnd Iâm most pleased to meet you, maâam,â quipped Carl, ushering her into the farmhouse with a flourishing bow.
After the gloom of the porch, and the hallway lit only by shards of light slipping through a door at the far end, the bright kitchen quite dazzled her. Though Chloë could feel the scorch of many pairs of eyes, momentarily she could not place any of them. With a strong blink, the kitchen and its inhabitants came into focus. It transpired that most of the eyes belonged to animals and, as she took in her surroundings, she spied creatures lurking in the most unpredictable of places. But the first thing that captured her eye and settled her soul was the vast Aga stretching across one side of the kitchen, bellowing forth warmth and the smell of baking bread in welcome. Above it, towels and jodhpurs were slung over the sheila-maid like bunting. The sparkle of all the eyes, and the beam from Gin Trapâs cheeks, made Chloë feel a festal welcome had been laid on in honour of her arrival.
In time, she found the kitchen always to be so. It was the heart of Skirrid End and exuded warmth and company for the Aga never went out and the room was never empty. It could lift her spirit and warm her right through on the darkest of mornings or the coldest of evenings. But she was never complacent about its gifts.
On that first day, eyes from every corner and level assessed and greeted her. One pair were Ginâs. Another, set deep into a face furrowed by years of furrowing the land, belonged to an amiable, stone-deaf Welshman called Dai the Hand, who drove the tractor and âmendsiz thingsâ. The others belonged to an assortment of cats and dogs of varying shapes, colours and degrees of mental stability. Though out on the yard they formed an allied force to patrol the environs, the kitchen they had subdivided into a set of incontrovertible territories.
A dopey-looking
âNo, he is not. And, though Iâd forgotten that Crick-howl is in south-west Wales, I
do
know that your father is. And you know that too.â
EIGHT
I t was not just the look of Carl that had dropped Chloëâs jaw and cranked long dormant cogs of concupiscence back into motion; more it was his manner, his voice especially. It was his twangy âYo Chlo!â that had hit her G-spot first, for he was still hidden in shadow when her ears were solicited. On closer inspection, a tall, lithe figure, blond of hair and blue of eye, was revealed. A generous smile presented a perfect set of ski-white teeth surrounded by lips like crimson velvet cushions. The smile was just slightly, but ever so alluringly, skew-whiff; causing a slight closing of the left eye, a deep dimple to the left cheek. There was a dimple in the right cheek too, but shallower. Chloë had an unbridled urge there and then to dab at the dimples with her tongue tip. It quite alarmed her but Carlâs outstretched hand brought her back to her senses which were, admittedly and rather awkwardly, on fire. She grabbed at his hand and shook it heartily, noting that it was warm, dry and smooth and that his wrists were gorgeous. She really ought not to look.
I donât even know where to look. Or how
.
âIâm Chloë,â she said, unintentionally huskily, âand your directions were absolutely appalling.â
âAh yih!â He threw back his head and roared a quick laugh â but long enough for Chloë to gaze at his masculine throat, his Adamâs apple vibrating most seductively.
âNever could tell my left from my right. Back home, no probs. Seaâs on the left, mountains are on the right.â
âAnd the âfew yardsâ?â
âHell, distances back home are so vast, you know? Here itâs all so cramped I just presume anywhereâs a few yards from everywhere!â
âWell, it looks like Iâm here!â Chloë acquiesced, privately thanking the heavens that she was.
âAnd Iâm most pleased to meet you, maâam,â quipped Carl, ushering her into the farmhouse with a flourishing bow.
After the gloom of the porch, and the hallway lit only by shards of light slipping through a door at the far end, the bright kitchen quite dazzled her. Though Chloë could feel the scorch of many pairs of eyes, momentarily she could not place any of them. With a strong blink, the kitchen and its inhabitants came into focus. It transpired that most of the eyes belonged to animals and, as she took in her surroundings, she spied creatures lurking in the most unpredictable of places. But the first thing that captured her eye and settled her soul was the vast Aga stretching across one side of the kitchen, bellowing forth warmth and the smell of baking bread in welcome. Above it, towels and jodhpurs were slung over the sheila-maid like bunting. The sparkle of all the eyes, and the beam from Gin Trapâs cheeks, made Chloë feel a festal welcome had been laid on in honour of her arrival.
In time, she found the kitchen always to be so. It was the heart of Skirrid End and exuded warmth and company for the Aga never went out and the room was never empty. It could lift her spirit and warm her right through on the darkest of mornings or the coldest of evenings. But she was never complacent about its gifts.
On that first day, eyes from every corner and level assessed and greeted her. One pair were Ginâs. Another, set deep into a face furrowed by years of furrowing the land, belonged to an amiable, stone-deaf Welshman called Dai the Hand, who drove the tractor and âmendsiz thingsâ. The others belonged to an assortment of cats and dogs of varying shapes, colours and degrees of mental stability. Though out on the yard they formed an allied force to patrol the environs, the kitchen they had subdivided into a set of incontrovertible territories.
A dopey-looking
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