Love Letters
Love Letters
“‘Laura dear, if you came and lived here, in this dear little holiday cottage that has no one in it, not only would be you be here when I needed you, you could give up your flat and save shedloads on rent.’ She straightened a throw covering the sofa and twitched a curtain into place. ‘I’d have offered it to you before if it’d been finished. All our other accommodation has been full. I won’t throw you out afterwards until you’ve found somewhere else to live,’ she added, anticipating Laura’s objec...tion.
Laura was extremely tempted by the converted cowshed. It was May, two weeks before the course, and summer was at its prettiest. Hawthorn blossom and cow parsley frothed in the hedgerows and verges around Somerby, the sun shone and the birds sang. Naturally a country lover, Laura’s small flat in town had lost any charm it ever had for her, and living where she did meant she had to do a lot of driving. But she still protested politely.
‘But you’ll need it for a writer or something when the festival is on.’ Fenella ran her hand through her already tangled hair.MoreLess
Laura was extremely tempted by the converted cowshed. It was May, two weeks before the course, and summer was at its prettiest. Hawthorn blossom and cow parsley frothed in the hedgerows and verges around Somerby, the sun shone and the birds sang. Naturally a country lover, Laura’s small flat in town had lost any charm it ever had for her, and living where she did meant she had to do a lot of driving. But she still protested politely.
‘But you’ll need it for a writer or something when the festival is on.’ Fenella ran her hand through her already tangled hair.MoreLess
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