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to be as authentic as possible, and we will also give you a credit for the work in the film,’ said Harold.

Merritt sat stunned. He had no idea it would be as easy as this. He looked at Willow, who was smiling at him, and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

‘I suppose there’s nothing else to say. Send me the details and I’ll get back to you,’ said Merritt.

As he and Willow saw Harold off back to London, he turned to Willow excitedly.

‘You’re a life saver,’ he said, and he picked her up in his large embrace. He spun her around and then he kissed her on the mouth quickly. ‘You’re amazing. I’m going to find Kitty,’ he yelled, and he ran back into the house.

Willow stood in shock at the kiss. Although it was chaste she had felt a stirring in her that she had forgotten existed. Merritt’s arms were so strong and he was so tall, she felt tiny next to him. She stood in the driveway, watching Harold’s Bentley navigate its way around the potholes.

For the first time in a long time, she felt excited. About what, she wasn’t sure, but it felt better than being depressed, and for that she was grateful.

Summer

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Over the next few weeks, Middlemist House was a hive of activity. Kitty had her work cut out for her trying to keep the children away from the diggers and cherry pickers that surrounded it. The minute she and Merritt had signed the consent papers for the filming, an army of crew arrived and set to work.

Merritt was in his element and Kitty couldn’t remember when she had last seen him so cheerful. While at first he had hated the idea of the film being shot at Middlemist, now he chatted with the art director and production designer constantly, bringing out books and old photographs from the library to show them Middlemist’s former glory.

When Poppy had discovered the letters and journals, Merritt had given the journals to Kitty to read. He’d said he would go through the letters, but he had been so busy with the work at the house that he hadn’t even begun. Kitty, however, looked over at the journals sitting on her bedside table each night, and could only feel guilt for not even opening the small books, which were falling apart at the spine.

The ring was now housed safely in Merritt’s room, but only after Kitty and Willow had tried it on. It was too small for Kitty’s ring finger but it fitted Willow’s hand perfectly. ‘It looks lovely,’ she said, holding out her hand to admire it. ‘You should save it for your wife, Merritt.’

Merritt harrumphed. ‘Not bloody likely that’ll happen again,’ he said. Willow looked at Kitty in surprise. There had been no mention of an ex-wife. ‘I’ll save it for Kitty when she gets married.’

Kitty laughed. ‘No chance of that, Merritt. I don’t see the men knocking down the gates for a date with me.’

‘What a fine pair we are,’ said Merritt, and he tousled Kitty’s hair.

‘Don’t forget me,’ laughed Willow. ‘A single mother and nearly thirty-two years old. It doesn’t get much more tragic than that. I’ll be known as a cougar once word gets out I’m on the prowl again.’

‘Oh you won’t have any trouble meeting men,’ said Merritt.

‘You think?’ laughed Willow.

‘You’re attractive and intelligent. Men like that,’ he said.

Willow thought of Kerr with his Russian sisters. ‘It’s not enough for some men,’ she said.

‘Then they’re idiots,’ he said, in a practical tone of voice.

Willow had thought about his comment for days afterwards. Why did she always choose such immature men?

Her mother had warned her about Kerr. ‘I think he has growing up to do,’ she had said when Willow took him to New York to meet her parents.

‘He’s fun, Mom,’ Willow had said.

‘He’s a child,’ said Janis. ‘He’s Peter Pan.’

‘Jesus, Mom, you’ve known him for two days and now you can analyse him?’

‘I know what I know, honey. It’s my job. I think you should have fun, but don’t get serious. He ain’t a keeper.’

Ringing her mother with the news after Kerr left her was hard, but Janis wasn’t judgmental.

‘Let him be, he may come back. See if he gets it out of his system,’ she had advised, but Kerr hadn’t come back. Now the paparazzi photos of him meant Willow couldn’t lie any more – to the world or herself – about her marriage.

It was over.

Not that