22
Carole snippedat the overgrown shrub beside the front gate, wondering when the thing had sprouted out of control. Another busy week at work wrangling her new clinic sessions into shape meant that she’d scarcely had time to pay attention to what was going on around her new house. In the spare moments she’d had over the past few days, she’d managed to finish painting the living room, but that was all she’d got done.
The new pink colour on the living room walls looked fantastic and she was thrilled with how the space looked now that the dreadful old fireplace was gone. With that work done, she realised it was time to tackle some other jobs, especially in the front garden, or else her neighbours would think she was some sort of lazy person who’d happily sit back and let it all go to wrack and ruin.
Thoughts of her neighbours had her glancing towards Tom’s house.
Since the mind-searing kiss they’d shared a week ago, she blushed whenever she thought of him. Part of her wished she could turn back time and stop that kiss from ever happening in the first place—while another part of her longed to kiss him again.
Which was why choosing not to be in contact was a good move. As Carole had insisted they forget the kiss ever happened, they had no real reason to be exchanging texts or anything like that anyway. Their wedding plus-one arrangement was over, which was why they’d spent time together in the first place.
Cutting off contact was the right thing to do, she was sure of it. This new start in her sweet little house on Foxglove Street, so close to her family and with a great new job nearby, meant everything to her. She couldn’t risk it all on account of her ludicrous crush on her neighbour.
Shewouldn’trisk it, either.
So, although it had felt awkward to dash off last Saturday night and then exchange no more than a couple of awkward messages with Tom in the days that followed, Carole knew it was the right move.
Theonlymove.
And it was why she shouldn’t be thinking about him at all, because that would only tempt her to break her no-contact vow. Determined to push the man out of her head, she attacked the overgrown shrub with renewed vigour.
She was snipping some shape into the wayward shrub when she heard her name being called from out on the street. When she looked up from her work, she recognised Olive Nimmo hurrying along the pavement towards her.
“Oh, Carole, what a stroke of luck to bump into you!” the older lady said when she reached the front gate. She looked flustered and sounded a little breathless.
“Is everything okay, Olive?” Carole asked.
“No, I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of a disaster on my hands,” Olive said, her brow creased with worry. “Four of our models for the vintage fashion show have pulled out at the last minute and I’m rushing around trying to find replacements. The show starts in less than half an hour and we’re on the cusp of absolute chaos!”
Carole had no idea what the woman was talking about. The confusion must have shown on her face, because Olive shook her head and sighed.
“I’m sorry, dear, I’m probably not making much sense. Do you remember the leaflet I gave you for the Hamblehurst History Museum summer fair?”
Now it all came back to her. Despite pinning the leaflet to her kitchen corkboard, she’d forgotten all about the event… which, she now realised, was happening today.
“Sorry, Olive, yes, I remember now,” Carole said. “But what’s the problem?”
“We had a plan agreed for the volunteers who’d signed up to be models in our vintage fashion show. But four of them pulled out this morning at the last minute because of family emergencies and illness. We don’t want to cut the fashion show short, because it will scarcely be worth the name if we do that, and so I’m racing around trying to find some folks to jump in and lend a hand. All the other volunteers we have are already stretched to their limits across the various things we need to staff throughout the day, and we can’t risk shuffling anyone around and causing even more chaos. So, I’m on the hunt for some warm bodies to step into the breach.”
“Gosh, that sounds like a handful, Olive. I hope you can sort it out.”
But Carole already detected the hopeful look on Olive’s face and knew what was coming next.
“I don’t suppose you’d be able to help, would you dear?” Olive said. “You’d be perfect for our fashion show. I mean, look at you—you’re gorgeous!”
“Uh, well…”
“And we’d only need you for about twenty minutes, enough time to get into your allocated costume and walk the runway. There’s really nothing to it!”
“Ah, Olive, I don’t think?—”
“Oh, please say you’ll help, Carole!” Olive’s expression was almost pained. “We’ve put such a tremendous amount of work into this little fashion show, and we’ll be so upset if it all falls apart at the last minute because of unforeseen circumstances. I’ve already convinced two other neighbours here on the street to lend a hand, and if you could pitch in too, that would help save us from disaster. Please, Carole. I’d be so very grateful.”
It was impossible to refuse the older lady’s request. Olive was clearly desperate, and everyone knew how much work went into these volunteer-led community events. Carole had already said she’d drop by the museum summer fair at some point, and it wasn’t exactly an enormous imposition to agree to put on some old historical costume for a few minutes. The idea of walking a runway made her more than a little nervous, but it was all for a good cause.
And anyway, she couldn’t turn Olive away without feeling terrible and selfish. Carole smiled and sighed, knowing she was beaten.
“Okay, I’ll come and help out,” she said, laughing as Olive clapped her hands together in joy. “But I’ve never done anything like this before, so don’t be surprised if I look like a big elephant clomping down the runway.”
