Sweetly Isolated (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 1)

Gossip and Pilaf

"Good morning, Ms. Popplewell."

Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. She should've made sure the furry menace stayed in the kitchen! And look, now the biggest gossip in the village knew that Tina had a man in her cottage! A barefoot, dressed in soft trousers - not looking at his thighs and hips, Tina! - wet curls disheveled around his head!

Tina pulled up a forced smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tiddles."

The woman stood prescribed two meters away on Tina's pathway, her tiny handbag matching her pink coat, and Tina could bet a snake smile was hiding behind that mask.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tiddles," the man behind Tina said politely.

OMG, can you just go back to the kitchen already?! Tina was frantically coming up with some smooth lies in her head.

"Would that be little Johnny Holyoake?" Mrs. Tiddles drew out and tilted her head inquisitively. "Well, aren't you all grown up? I remember you and your sister running around as tots - and look at you now!"

Clementine internally shrieked like a banshee. Please, don't look at him now! Nothing to see here!

"How are you doing these days, Mrs. Tiddles?" Does he have to be so bloody lush?! And leaning on a door frame again?!

"Taking one day at a time, my boy," Mrs. Tiddles said mournfully, her gaze greedily drinking in the sight of the man - and of Tina, who also probably looked like she'd just crawled out of her bed! The same bed as the furry menace! Lord, give Tina strength!

Also, what's this rubbish about 'taking one day at a time?' Mrs. Tiddles was as healthy as a bull, and would live till two hundred - bless her! - and even then, she'd still be telling everyone how Tina had a gentleman suitor in her cottage! And he'd obviously spent the night! Kill Tina now!

"Are you visiting for holidays then?" Mrs. Tiddles asked.

Tina slowly turned and pinned the man with a death glare. Tell her the truth, you prick! Make me look better, you owe me that much!

The man smiled widely - and no, Tina didn't notice his white teeth, in a stark contrast with his dark beard, and the laughing wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and no, they aren't at all charming, bugger! - seemingly without noticing Tina's telepathic threatening messages.

"I am," he murmured. "I much prefer our cosy Lower Woulds over the hustle of the city around holiday time. And nothing beats spending time with the family, of course."

Bloody hell, is he dim?! It's like he was trying to make it look like they were lodging here together! Tina gritted her teeth.

"Oh that would be our groceries," the lush bastard drew out and pointed at the van parking in front of Tina's cottage.

'Our' groceries?! 'Our?!' She's so ending the bastard in with one of those pans he'd ordered!

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," Mrs. Tiddles sing-songed.

What 'it?!' There was no 'it' happening here! Tina's internal screaming reached the pitch level of a bat screech.

"Have a lovely day, Ms. Popplewell. And you too, Johnny."

The old lady's white curls shook in a series of enthusiastic nods, and she was definitely grinning under that mask!

"Good day, Mrs. Tiddles," Tina said in a defeated tone.

And can he stop smiling like the visit of the 'old darling' was the best thing that could happen this morning?!

Mrs. Tiddles gave them a wave of her dry little hand and departed. And Bobby, the grocery delivery lad, took her spot. Tina decided it was all getting too much, and fled to her lounge, leaving the man to deal with his own produce.