Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

Like a Ripe Plum

Besides, it felt rather nice to be the 'apple of the family's eye.' All other Holyoake men had to navigate Nana's attitudes towards their wives on their own - and buy their own rings, if they chose to do so - while Ulla was welcomed to the family with so much enthusiasm she was in danger of developing the youngest child syndrome. Getting constant emotional support, solicited constructive criticism, and a healthy amount of coddling were starting to have an irreversible effect on her prickly personality. Oh horror!

Her mobile beeped on the table, she took her feet off the other chair, and picked up her phone.

"Viola's here," she said, getting up.

He put down the knife, wiped his hands, and turned to her. Ulla stepped to him, wrapped her arms around his middle, and lifted her face to him to get her favourite treat - an Oli kiss.

A few seconds later she had to remind herself she was Swedish, hence averse to being late and making people wait, and pulled herself away from him with an almost painful effort.

"I've got to go," she said.

His beautiful blue eyes opened slowly, clouded and hungry.

"Do you really?" he said.

"I really, really do," she said, and brushed her tinted lip balm off his bottom lip with her thumb. "But I hate it."

"Have fun," he said and smiled at her. He cupped her face with both his hands, and Ulla squinted in bliss. "Have I told you how much I appreciate that you're willing to go through this torture for me?" he said.

"Meh," Ulla said, slightly turned her head, and kissed his palm. "It's fine, really. I'm going with Viola, so there will be no crying, oohhh-ing and ahhh-ing, and unnecessary faffing about."

He quickly kissed her lips.

"And you're welcome," she said.

***

They stepped out of Viola's Panda, and Ulla gave out a long mournful sigh looking the shop over.

"Why this one?" she asked Viola.

"They cater to those with unusual tastes," Viola answered. "Yolanda suggested it to me. The shop belongs to a friend of hers. She has myriads of the most diverse friends in any area you can think of."

The woman took off her giant, endlessly stylish sunglasses. Only Viola Holyoake could pull off a culotte-style, sage green jumpsuit and golden Manolo sandals - and look equally appropriate in the tiny sleepy village of Fleckney Fields and in the streets of London. Ulla had a massive crush on the woman! Forget all the manly Holyoake men! Dr. Viola Holyoake was the most bad-arse Holyoake of them all!

Viola pushed the door open, and they came into the small cosy shop. Ulla braced herself but thankfully there were no white monstrosities on display. The first room was just full of sofas and armchairs, catalogues and magazines were scattered on two low coffee tables, and there was a coffee bar. Ulla would need lashings of coffee to get through this ordeal.

"Good afternoon," a pleasant young woman behind the coffee bar said. "You must be Viola and Ulla. Martha will be right with you. Could I offer you anything? Coffee? Tea? Or as per tradition, champagne perhaps?" she said with a cheeky laugh.

"Coffee for me, please," Ulla jumped at the opportunity. "Viola?"

"I'll have a cup of tea, please," Viola said. "And that lovely raspberry scone." She pointed at the pastry in a basket with her sunglasses.

Ulla threw the woman a shocked look. Neither refusing coffee, which Viola drank in quantities that impressed even Ulla's Nordic self, nor eating a carbs and sugar filled treat was something one would - ever! - expect from the woman.