They found Celia in the kitchen giving Dan and Pippa orders, but as Tasha appeared she was crushed beneath her sibling’s hugs. Jim smiled at how much they obviously loved her, all of them; she was her grandfather’s favourite person, her siblings obviously adored her and as he watched Celia watching her three grandchildren it was clear she was besotted with them all. He also thought how attractive the older woman was. He realised she was probably similar in age to his own mom and felt slightly uncomfortable, but then he realised what it was about her he found most attractive, Tasha and their strong resemblance.
“Can we put Tasha down please,” shouted Celia to be heard over them all.
Tasha emerged from under the others allowing Celia to hug her tightly.
“We are honoured, a dress.”
Jim smiled, the dress was at his insistence and they needed to get used to seeing her in dresses because jeans really didn’t do it for him, although the way she filled them was almost pornographic.
“Grandma, this is Jim,” Tasha said, interrupting his thoughts of how her jeans cupped her curves.
Jim offered Celia a hand, but she bypassed it and hugged him warmly. “Thank you for looking after Tasha, and these two.” She pointed at Dan and Pippa smiling.
“My pleasure,” he said before Dan spoke.
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
Pippa, who was now holding Tasha’s hand grinned at Jim. “So you’re the rich, old guy?”
Pippa and Tasha both laughed and as he looked at them Jim could see a resemblance, but more than that he could see a younger, carefree Tasha. He needed to facilitate this existence by making her happy and by making her family part of his.
“Pleased to meet you, too.” Jim laughed at them laughing.
They had finished eating lunch and Tasha was quite happy with how things had gone. Her family seemed to like Jim and he’d been perfectly charming. Charming to the extent that she’d been charmed by him all over again. Her grandfather had been quite open in his questioning of Jim, about his work, his wives, his life and in return Jim had been open in his responses.
“Right, Daniel and Philippa can clear the table and Natasha, Banksy is ready for a walk if you fancy it?” said Celia.
They all stood up to follow her instructions and Jim was very impressed at the order and compliance she instilled in them.
“Who is Banksy,” Jim asked Tasha.
“The dog,” she replied.
He nodded.
“Do you want to come with me?” she asked him, but before he could reply Paul interrupted.
“I wanted a word with Jim, so you carry on Nat and he can join you afterwards.”
Tasha nodded and left Jim with her grandparents and again he thought how he liked them, they obviously ran a tight ship, very ordered and in control.
Banksy, the grey lurcher was retrieving his ball for the twentieth or thirtieth time at the top of the garden before they entered the wooded area that fell within the boundaries of the Winters’ property. Tasha heard her name being called and looked back to see Jim walking up the lawn towards her in black jeans and a white linen shirt. She smiled as he approached and looked at the large detached Georgian house and, not for the first time wished she had been fortunate enough to have been brought up here. Jim was about thirty feet away when Banksy began to bark at him.
Tasha threw his ball towards Jim. “Throw it into the woods and he’ll be your best friend forever.”
Jim caught the ball and called the dog to him before throwing the ball and laughed as the dog disappeared into the woods. “You’re the only one I need to be my best friend forever.”
Tasha laughed as Jim cringed at his cheesy line. “Cats or dogs?” she asked.
“For what?” Jim took her hand and led her into the woods.
“Which do you prefer?”
“Dogs for loyalty, cats for their independence.”
She smiled thinking she had always thought that too. “Banksy,” she called and he appeared from nowhere.
“Isn’t he an artist or something?” asked Jim.
