‘She was worried you might have moved on,’ Ellie put in helpfully. ‘Met someone else.’
‘No. Never.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry about Henry.’
‘Thank you.’ The necklace of handmade pink pebbles bobbed against Martha’s throat.
‘And Eunice? Is she well?’
‘Very well. She’s living in Carlisle now, close to her daughter.’ The twinkle in her eye signaled that whether Eunice’s daughter was thrilled with this development was debatable. ‘And my son has met a wonderful girl, so fingers crossed there. I keep embarrassing him, dropping hints about how I can’t wait to become a granny.’ The next moment, remembering the ribbon-strewn silver gift bag in her hand, Martha held it out to Ellie and said, ‘Sorry, this is for you.’
‘That’s so kind. You didn’t have to.’ They exchanged a hug.
‘Oh, darling, I’m just glad I was able to.’
‘Right, I’ll leave you in peace for five minutes.’ Ellie pointed to Tony. ‘Then you have a bride to give away.’
The expression on his face told Ellie she’d done the right thing. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re sure you don’t mind looking after her?’
Tony squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll give it my very best shot.’
Ellie closed the door behind her. Out in the hallway, she lifted the painting out of the gift bag.
There it was, a sunny summer’s day in Little Venice. Martha had returned to the exact spot where they’d first met, in order to demonstrate that her ability to paint had returned. Along with her enthusiasm for life.
The next moment another door opened and she heard Zack’s voice a split second before he emerged from the drawing room where the ceremony was being held.
‘Close your eyes,’ Ellie blurted out.
Zack appeared, dark hair slicked back, tanned jaw stubble-free. His eyes were closed.
‘It’s unlucky to see the bride before the wedding,’ Ellie reminded him.
‘So move away,’ said Zack. ‘You’ll have to, I can’t see where I’m going.’
Well, sometimes a situation arose that was just too good to pass up. Crossing the hallway, Ellie planted a kiss on his beautiful un-suspecting mouth.
‘How do I know it’s you?’ Zack kept his eyes closed. ‘It could be anyone.’
‘It’s me.’
‘I’m not sure I believe you.’ The beautiful mouth was twitching.
‘Put it this way.’ She pressed herself against him and pinched his bottom. ‘It had better be me.’
Zack touched her face, exploring the various curves and angles, before kissing her again. ‘OK, it’s you. I recognize you now.’ He broke into a slow smile. ‘Ellie Kendall, you have no idea how much I love you. Will you marry me?’
Was it possible to feel happier than this? ‘Play your cards right,’ she ran a playful finger down the front of his cream waistcoat, ‘and I just might.’
Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to my wonderful son Cory, who came up with the perfect title for this book.
About the Author
Jill Mansell lives with her partner and children in Bristol and writes full time. Actually, that’s not true; she watches TV, eats gumdrops, admires the rugby players training in the sports field behind her house, and spends hours on the Internet marveling at how many other writers have blogs. Only when she’s completely run out of ways to procrastinate does she write.
Read on for a sneak peek of Jill Mansell’s
Nadia Knows Best
Available May 2012
From Sourcebooks Landmark
Chapter 1
‘Ooooohh… eeee…’ To her horror Nadia realised she was having a Bambi moment. A scary, drawn-out, Bambi-on-ice moment in fact. Except unlike Bambi she couldn’t make it stop simply by landing with a bump on her bottom.
The car carried on sliding in slow motion across the perilously snow-packed road. Despite knowing—in theory—that what you were meant to do was keep your foot off the brake and steer into the skid, Nadia’s hands and feet were frantically doing all the wrong things because steering into a skid was like trying to write while you were looking in a mirror and—oh God, wall––
Cccrunchh.
Silence.
Phew, still alive, hooray for that.
Opening her eyes, Nadia unpeeled her trembling gloved hands from the steering wheel and mentally congratulated herself on not being dead. The car was tilted at a bit of an odd angle, thanks to the ditch directly in front of the wall, but despite the best efforts of the snow she hadn’t actually been going fast enough to do spectacular amounts of damage to either it or herself.
Then again, what to do now?
Pulling her hat down over her eyebrows and bracing herself against the cold, Nadia clambered out of the grubby black Renault and inspected the crumpled front wing. Just as well she hadn’t borrowed