Read Online Yesterday's Sun by Amanda Brooke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amanda Brooke
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anything else you need, you only have to ask.”
“Is that a proposition, Billy?” gasped Holly with a half-smile.
Billy actually blushed. “Erm, well, I was actually thinking, well, what I meant was, erm, the garden could do with a proper makeover. We don’t want any more accidents, do we?” he stammered.
Holly shivered as she recalled the sensation of kneeling on the soft lawn. “Thanks, Billy, but I’m not sure I want to let Tom off the hook with that particular job just yet.”
She brought her chat with Billy to a swift end, promising to make him and his lads a nice cup of tea. With Billy dispatched to the studio, Holly took another look at her reflection in the mirror. She wanted desperately to believe that the events of the previous night had just been a weird and not-so-wonderful nightmare, but the physical evidence was difficult to dismiss.
As she went through the motions of getting showered and dressed, her mind remained focused on finding a rational explanation for what had happened the night before. There was absolutely no doubt that she’d left the house during the night. The open kitchen door and the wet jog pants proved that she had gone into the garden. The wooden box left abandoned on the kitchen table confirmed that she had been playing with the moondial. But at what point did reality end and her imagination take over?
Everything made sense up until the point when she banged her head. A mild concussion might explain her bizarre vision of the future; in fact, it was the only explanation Holly was willing to consider.
Refusing to waste any more time thinking about the hallucination, she readied herself for a full day’s work. She went downstairs and made the promised pot of tea for the builders and then a strong cup of coffee for herself.
Holly set out the tools of her trade on the kitchen table, determined to spend the day focused on Mrs. Bronson’s commission. Being organized and disciplined sometimes conflicted with her creativity, but today she needed something to concentrate her mind on. No distractions.
Tom phoned. There were some distractions that were an exception to the rule and Holly needed the comfort of simply hearing his voice.
“Good morning, my light, my life,” Tom chirped.
“Good morning, my compass, my anchor,” replied Holly, and she was surprised at how relieved she was to have Tom hear and acknowledge her. She thought of the man she had seen the night before, bereft and lost, but quickly pushed the image from her mind.
“Haven’t disturbed you, have I?” Tom asked.
“No, not at all. You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed you.”
“Not got the substitute installed yet, then?” Tom asked playfully.
Holly smiled, enjoying the normality of the conversation. The tension she had been carrying with her all morning slipped from her body. “It was a bit fraught earlier,” she told Tom. “But I’ve managed to kick the rugby team out of my bed.”
“Only one rugby team? Your stamina must be slipping.”
“So how about you? Sourced out a string of hussies to keep you busy?”
“Oh, there was extensive auditioning last night but no one compares to you.”
“I miss you,” Holly whispered, unable to keep up the pretense any longer.
“I miss you, too.”
“I don’t think I can bear to be away from you for so long. To hell with Mrs. Bronson, I should come and join you.”
There was the longest silence. Holly sensed Tom’s agreement, but neither of them wanted to break their resolve to see this through.
“No, ignore me,” Holly added quickly before Tom could answer. “I’ve had a bad night, that’s all. And it’s only been one day. I’ll be fine, honest. It’ll take a few days for me to settle and after all, I’ve got this damned commission to do. Throwing in the towel just isn’t an option. I’ve only got today and tomorrow left to get the designs right. I’ll throw myself into my work and I’ll be fine. Ignore me. I’ll be fine.
“Is that a proposition, Billy?” gasped Holly with a half-smile.
Billy actually blushed. “Erm, well, I was actually thinking, well, what I meant was, erm, the garden could do with a proper makeover. We don’t want any more accidents, do we?” he stammered.
Holly shivered as she recalled the sensation of kneeling on the soft lawn. “Thanks, Billy, but I’m not sure I want to let Tom off the hook with that particular job just yet.”
She brought her chat with Billy to a swift end, promising to make him and his lads a nice cup of tea. With Billy dispatched to the studio, Holly took another look at her reflection in the mirror. She wanted desperately to believe that the events of the previous night had just been a weird and not-so-wonderful nightmare, but the physical evidence was difficult to dismiss.
As she went through the motions of getting showered and dressed, her mind remained focused on finding a rational explanation for what had happened the night before. There was absolutely no doubt that she’d left the house during the night. The open kitchen door and the wet jog pants proved that she had gone into the garden. The wooden box left abandoned on the kitchen table confirmed that she had been playing with the moondial. But at what point did reality end and her imagination take over?
Everything made sense up until the point when she banged her head. A mild concussion might explain her bizarre vision of the future; in fact, it was the only explanation Holly was willing to consider.
Refusing to waste any more time thinking about the hallucination, she readied herself for a full day’s work. She went downstairs and made the promised pot of tea for the builders and then a strong cup of coffee for herself.
Holly set out the tools of her trade on the kitchen table, determined to spend the day focused on Mrs. Bronson’s commission. Being organized and disciplined sometimes conflicted with her creativity, but today she needed something to concentrate her mind on. No distractions.
Tom phoned. There were some distractions that were an exception to the rule and Holly needed the comfort of simply hearing his voice.
“Good morning, my light, my life,” Tom chirped.
“Good morning, my compass, my anchor,” replied Holly, and she was surprised at how relieved she was to have Tom hear and acknowledge her. She thought of the man she had seen the night before, bereft and lost, but quickly pushed the image from her mind.
“Haven’t disturbed you, have I?” Tom asked.
“No, not at all. You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed you.”
“Not got the substitute installed yet, then?” Tom asked playfully.
Holly smiled, enjoying the normality of the conversation. The tension she had been carrying with her all morning slipped from her body. “It was a bit fraught earlier,” she told Tom. “But I’ve managed to kick the rugby team out of my bed.”
“Only one rugby team? Your stamina must be slipping.”
“So how about you? Sourced out a string of hussies to keep you busy?”
“Oh, there was extensive auditioning last night but no one compares to you.”
“I miss you,” Holly whispered, unable to keep up the pretense any longer.
“I miss you, too.”
“I don’t think I can bear to be away from you for so long. To hell with Mrs. Bronson, I should come and join you.”
There was the longest silence. Holly sensed Tom’s agreement, but neither of them wanted to break their resolve to see this through.
“No, ignore me,” Holly added quickly before Tom could answer. “I’ve had a bad night, that’s all. And it’s only been one day. I’ll be fine, honest. It’ll take a few days for me to settle and after all, I’ve got this damned commission to do. Throwing in the towel just isn’t an option. I’ve only got today and tomorrow left to get the designs right. I’ll throw myself into my work and I’ll be fine. Ignore me. I’ll be fine.
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