Read Online Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse by Ros Clarke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ros Clarke
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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couldn’t help a little grin.
‘I’ll see to these two. Will you let Benjy out and feed the kitten?’
It seemed so normal. As if this routine had always been part of her life. Fliss kicked off her boots and called for the spaniel to let him out into the garden. She put the kettle on and felt Marshmallow rubbing up against her while she reached for mugs and tea bags. She fitted in this house, and that scared her.
‘Only a few weeks,’ she repeated to herself firmly. ‘Not forever.’
She didn’t have to move back to London at the end of the few weeks, though. Maybe she could go travelling for a while? Backpack around Europe or Australia, working in bars or on farms or wherever she could pick up a temporary job to see her through to the next place.
She could take the time at Luke’s to plan the first steps of her expedition. Save up for a ticket and look at maps to see where she’d like to go. Make sure her passport was up to date. That would be a good way of making sure she didn’t get too settled in this place, no matter how beguiling it became.
Luke drove her up to London to get her things from the flat. Fliss insisted she only needed an hour to pack and that he would be much better off in the pub at the end of the street than getting in the way in her tiny bedroom. An hour later he appeared with a bag of chips which she ate while he carried her piles of luggage down to the car. She had warned him that the sports car wouldn’t be big enough so he’d brought the jeep down.
‘How many pairs of shoes do you own?’ Luke asked after the third trip down to the street.
‘No idea,’ Fliss said. ‘Would you like to count them for me?’
‘No. Do you have a decent pair of boots among them?’
‘I have several indecent pairs,’ she teased.
‘Wellingtons?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Riding boots?’
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
‘You’ll need something,’ Luke insisted. ‘The yard can get pretty mucky and you won’t want to ruin your stilettos.’
‘You could mend them for me,’ Fliss pointed out.
‘Next time you can mend your own.’ Luke stole a chip on his way past. ‘I think these are the last, by the way. You might want to check your room just in case I missed anything.’
Fliss did a quick scan, then scrawled a note to her housemate with a forwarding address and phone number. She wrote a cheque for a month’s rent with an extra amount for bills, then stuck both under a vase of dead tulips in the middle of the kitchen table where it couldn’t be missed.
‘Ready?’
‘Yup.’
Luke kissed her. ‘Come on then, let’s turn you into a proper country girl.’
She screwed up her face. ‘Will I have to make jam and wear puffa jackets?’
He laughed. ‘Only if you want to. Mostly, I’ll need you to field phone calls from disgruntled owners who all think I have nothing better to do but sit and chat about their horses all day.’
‘I can do that.’
He grinned. ‘I’m certain you can. There’s some paperwork, too. And occasionally I’ll need you to provide coffee and biscuits for a meeting.’
‘Of course. I can do shorthand and I type at eighty words a minute. I’m experienced in using various kinds of word processing, database and spreadsheet software. Filing, however, is my nemesis.’
Luke laughed again. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage. I’ve been coping on my own for two months and it’ll be good to have another pair of hands.’
‘Though yours is a particularly nice pair of hands,’ she observed, watching them casually and gracefully changing gear and take a corner.
‘Thank you,’ he replied gravely. ‘No one’s ever commented on my hands before.’
‘Well, they should
‘I’ll see to these two. Will you let Benjy out and feed the kitten?’
It seemed so normal. As if this routine had always been part of her life. Fliss kicked off her boots and called for the spaniel to let him out into the garden. She put the kettle on and felt Marshmallow rubbing up against her while she reached for mugs and tea bags. She fitted in this house, and that scared her.
‘Only a few weeks,’ she repeated to herself firmly. ‘Not forever.’
She didn’t have to move back to London at the end of the few weeks, though. Maybe she could go travelling for a while? Backpack around Europe or Australia, working in bars or on farms or wherever she could pick up a temporary job to see her through to the next place.
She could take the time at Luke’s to plan the first steps of her expedition. Save up for a ticket and look at maps to see where she’d like to go. Make sure her passport was up to date. That would be a good way of making sure she didn’t get too settled in this place, no matter how beguiling it became.
Luke drove her up to London to get her things from the flat. Fliss insisted she only needed an hour to pack and that he would be much better off in the pub at the end of the street than getting in the way in her tiny bedroom. An hour later he appeared with a bag of chips which she ate while he carried her piles of luggage down to the car. She had warned him that the sports car wouldn’t be big enough so he’d brought the jeep down.
‘How many pairs of shoes do you own?’ Luke asked after the third trip down to the street.
‘No idea,’ Fliss said. ‘Would you like to count them for me?’
‘No. Do you have a decent pair of boots among them?’
‘I have several indecent pairs,’ she teased.
‘Wellingtons?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Riding boots?’
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
‘You’ll need something,’ Luke insisted. ‘The yard can get pretty mucky and you won’t want to ruin your stilettos.’
‘You could mend them for me,’ Fliss pointed out.
‘Next time you can mend your own.’ Luke stole a chip on his way past. ‘I think these are the last, by the way. You might want to check your room just in case I missed anything.’
Fliss did a quick scan, then scrawled a note to her housemate with a forwarding address and phone number. She wrote a cheque for a month’s rent with an extra amount for bills, then stuck both under a vase of dead tulips in the middle of the kitchen table where it couldn’t be missed.
‘Ready?’
‘Yup.’
Luke kissed her. ‘Come on then, let’s turn you into a proper country girl.’
She screwed up her face. ‘Will I have to make jam and wear puffa jackets?’
He laughed. ‘Only if you want to. Mostly, I’ll need you to field phone calls from disgruntled owners who all think I have nothing better to do but sit and chat about their horses all day.’
‘I can do that.’
He grinned. ‘I’m certain you can. There’s some paperwork, too. And occasionally I’ll need you to provide coffee and biscuits for a meeting.’
‘Of course. I can do shorthand and I type at eighty words a minute. I’m experienced in using various kinds of word processing, database and spreadsheet software. Filing, however, is my nemesis.’
Luke laughed again. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage. I’ve been coping on my own for two months and it’ll be good to have another pair of hands.’
‘Though yours is a particularly nice pair of hands,’ she observed, watching them casually and gracefully changing gear and take a corner.
‘Thank you,’ he replied gravely. ‘No one’s ever commented on my hands before.’
‘Well, they should
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