ChapterTwenty
The door to No. 17 Curiosity Lane swung shut behind them, the tiny bell above it jingling in the quiet afternoon air. Daniel reached for the wooden sign to flip it to OPEN. But before he could, Fern’s hand covered his, pressing the sign firmly back to CLOSED.
He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his expression. ‘We’re closed?’
She stepped in closer, the warmth of her body radiating against his as her fingers grazed his forearm. ‘I thought we could spend the afternoon together.’
His smile came quickly but he hesitated and then his expression shifted. He gently took her hands in his. ‘Fern, look… I need to say something before this goes any further.’
She looked up at him.
‘I’m not interested in sex just to patch something over or to make either of us feel less alone. That’s not what I want, not with you.’ He paused. ‘I understand that the first time was spontaneous, but I’m looking for more than just sex. I want to build a connection. I don’t want to be just a moment of comfort.’
Her smile faltered. ‘Are you rejecting me?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m respecting you and whatever thisis, or could be. Let’s work this out… together.’
Fern admired him for being vulnerable, speaking his mind and being honest about how he felt. It made a refreshing change compared to the likes of Jax Devlin, who would expect sex after any gig she attended, with no communication for weeks at a time in between meetings. Daniel was different and she admired that about him.
‘Come here,’ he said, pulling her in for a hug. ‘But just so you know, it’s very difficult to do the right thing as you’re very fanciable.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Shall I make us a coffee?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘I think there’s even some lemon drizzle left.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
They walked into the kitchen and Daniel switched on the kettle.
‘There’s something I haven’t mentioned about my visit to Edgar. He gave me a lead on the wedding dress.’
‘Really?’
‘He suggested we visit the local seamstress. Apparently, she lives in the blue rainbow cottage on Lighthouse Lane. Her name’s Dorothy. It’s worth a shot. Shall we go and visit?’
‘Dorothy! Why didn’t I think of her? She was good friends with Matilda. She sat with her right up until the end.’
‘Shall we go after work?’
‘Sounds like a plan, but what I need now is coffee and cake.’
* * *
Just after five o’clock, Fern and Daniel walked up Lighthouse Lane towards the row of rainbow cottages, each one distinct in its charm, their gardens overflowing with beautiful vibrant blooms. They walked side by side, Daniel carrying the wedding dress inside the bin bag.
They stopped outside the blue cottage and Fern gave a tiny gasp. ‘Can you imagine living here?’
It was a quaint two-storey house with a thatched roof and an oak porch, its beams weathered by time but still strong. Climbing up one side of the porch was a cascade of tumbling roses, their petals a delicate blend of blush pink and cream. The garden was immaculately kept, a riot of colour with lavender and foxgloves swaying gently in the breeze, and a low stone wall enclosing the property. Lanterns hung both sides of the deep-blue door and potted geraniums graced the step.
‘It’s just beautiful,’ she said. ‘Straight out of a story book.’
They walked up to the door and Fern pressed the bell. Within moments the door had opened, and Dorothy greeted them with a warm smile. ‘Daniel! Lovely to see you. How are you?’
Dorothy was a small woman. Her silver hair was swept into a neat bun, and her sharp blue eyes studied them with quiet curiosity. Wrinkles fanned out from her eyes and mouth, but they only deepened the warmth in her face. She wore a soft lavender cardigan over a floral dress, and Fern could easily picture her sitting at a sewing machine, guiding delicate lace beneath the needle.
‘I’m all good. Can I introduce you to Fern?’
Dorothy immediately placed both hands on her chest. ‘Fern, from London. Matilda’s great-niece.’
