The Promise of Summer, Part 1

  THE PROMISE OF SUMMER

  PART ONE

  With this Ring …

  Bella Osborne

  Copyright

  Published by AVON

  A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

  Copyright © Bella Osborne 2021

  Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

  Cover illustration: Shutterstock.com

  Bella Osborne asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008464905

  Ebook Edition © May 2021 ISBN: 9780008331306

  Version: 2021-05-17

  Dedication

  To Charlotte Ledger for being the first editor to take a chance on me, for continuing to champion me from the sidelines and for being one of the loveliest people on the planet.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Also by Bella Osborne

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  ‘What a knob,’ said Ruby, looking at her mobile phone. She couldn’t quite believe it.

  ‘Another dick pic?’ asked Kim, arranging flowers into a bouquet.

  ‘Not this time. It’s my ex. The one with the homemade knuckle tattoos. They wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have at least spelled them properly. Anyway him. He’s selling my bloody microwave on eBay. The one he stole from me.’

  ‘That’s despicable!’ Kim sounded outraged on her behalf. ‘Is this the same one who peed in your kettle?’

  Ruby shook her head. She’d tried very hard to forget about that incident but just the thought of it brought the smell of boiling urine to her nostrils. ‘No, this loser was between the kettle pisser and the one who wanted to video us having sex for training purposes.’ It was fair to say she’d not had much luck on the dating front for some time or, in fact, ever.

  Ruby had a woefully bad track record when it came to men. She had tried to remain optimistic but, over the years, experience had taught her that however much effort she made it was still, most likely, going to end badly. Perhaps she had some cosmic ability to attract men of a particularly low calibre. Bald chancers on Tinder aside, she had had her fair share of good-looking men, but they were frequently the worst. All the pretty ones she had dated had cheated on her – every single one.

  The shop entry bell chimed, and Ruby shoved the phone in her back pocket and went to serve, leaving Kim in the back room with a large sheet of cellophane and an armful of antirrhinums.

  Bloom with a View was a little flower shop tucked out of the way down a side street, a stone’s throw from Sheffield’s railway station. So, despite its name, the view wasn’t great unless trains and stressed commuters was your thing. On entering you were met by an explosion of colour and scent all year round, although summer was Ruby’s favourite, when the shop was full of sweet-smelling stocks and vibrant roses.

  A suited man came in.

  ‘Hi, Adrian,’ said Ruby. ‘How are you?’ Adrian was a regular customer. He called in every Friday on his way home from work to get flowers for his wife and he’d been doing it since before Ruby had started working at the tiny florist’s three years ago.

  ‘Fine, thanks. No Kim today?’ he asked, leaning to one side to look through the archway to the back room.

  ‘Hi, Adrian,’ called Kim. ‘I’m wrestling with a hand-tied bouquet. You all right?’

  ‘Good thanks. Busy week. I’m looking forward to a glass of wine and putting my feet up.’ He directed his answer at the beaded curtain separating the main part of the shop from the back room where they kept most of the stock in a walk-in cooler and the orders were made up.

  ‘I bet Justine is too. We’ve got some lovely yellow roses in. I know they’re her favourite,’ called back Kim.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Adrian.

  ‘On it,’ said Ruby and she began making up a bunch. She knew the price Adrian liked to pay so they always made the spray up to that amount, although both Ruby and Kim usually added in a couple of extra sprigs of whatever was in season because he was a loyal customer and also a genuinely lovely person.

  ‘Ey, up,’ said Kim, coming through the archway with a flourish like a game show host.

  ‘What are you up to this weekend, Kim?’ asked Adrian, getting out his wallet.

  ‘I’m working here as usual. No other plans. What about you?’

  ‘Off to the Crucible tomorrow night.’

  ‘How lovely. I haven’t been to the theatre since I used to go with Vince but I’m not sure why because he never liked it. He only came for the ice cream in the interval. I adore plays. There’s something vibrant about it – the excitement of a live performance. It’s like you’re part of the show somehow.’ Kim looked wistful as she spoke.

  ‘Couldn’t agree more. I’ve been hooked since a school trip to see West Side Story. It’s more personal than TV. There’s something special about being allowed to experience it up close,’ said Adrian.

  Ruby wasn’t sure what they were going on about. ‘Nah, you can’t beat curling up on the sofa in your PJs with pizza and Netflix. If it’s rubbish you can just pick something else.’

  Adrian and Kim both looked mildly horrified at her suggestion. She shrugged and passed Adrian the flowers and he tapped his debit card on the machine.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Adrian, ‘see you next week.’

  ‘Enjoy the play,’ said Kim.

  The door chimed and Adrian was gone. Kim stood staring at the door.

  ‘Earth to Kim. You all right?’

  Kim sighed. ‘Yes. It’s been seven years and I still miss Vince. I don’t suppose that ever goes away.’

  Ruby had heard many stories about Kim’s husband. Their marriage sounded ideal. Maybe not the perfect relationship she read about in her favourite romantic novels but certainly a sound partnership built on love and trust. They had set up the florist’s together, and from Kim’s accounts enjoyed each other’s company. This had all been cut abruptly short when Vince had suffered a heart attack leaving Kim on her own at forty-two. So even if you found someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, there were no guarantees.

  Ruby would be happy with what Kim and Vince had had but what she truly wanted was the full-scale fairy tale. She wanted to meet a man who would sweep her off her feet and ideally
look like Chris Hemsworth or better still actually be Chris Hemsworth, although she knew looks weren’t her number-one priority. She liked a laugh so a fun person was essential. Maybe Peter Kay but with Chris Hemsworth’s body – that would work. Most importantly she needed somebody who would stick around, not do a runner at the first sign of trouble or a bouncing cleavage. She needed a man who was a match for her quick tongue and would accept her as she was. Although that was looking less and less likely. She was heading for thirty-five and everyone she’d dated had a major personality flaw. However much she liked the idea of a long-term relationship, her wishes didn’t come true so she was temporarily off men and focusing on something else that would bring her guaranteed joy.

  Kim was still gazing at the closed door. Ruby didn’t like to see her looking sad, so she tried to jolly her out of it.

  ‘You need to get on Tinder or that over-fifties app. I could set up a profile for you. You’d find someone for sure.’

  ‘No, thank you, and anyway I’m not fifty yet,’ said Kim, folding her arms across her ample chest. ‘I’ve seen the wasters you’ve been matched with. They’re not exactly the pick of the bunch. No offence.’

  ‘None taken. I mean look at this lot.’ Ruby pulled out her phone and brought up the latest dating app she was subscribed to for a couple more days. She scrolled to the first picture: a bald man asleep in a deckchair. ‘Forty my arse – he’s seventy if he’s a day.’ She scrolled to the next one. ‘Picture of his dog. Delete.’

  ‘Why? He likes dogs. That’s a good thing. I was thinking about getting a puppy.’

  ‘I could see you with a Labrador.’

  ‘I’m fed up coming home to an empty house. A man with a dog might be nice.’ Kim pointed at Ruby’s phone. ‘For you I mean.’

  ‘But there’s no photo of him, which most likely means he’s either so ugly he’d curdle milk, or he’s worried I’ll recognise him on Crimewatch.’

  ‘He looks all right,’ said Kim, pointing at the next one who popped up. ‘At least he’s got hair.’

  ‘But most of it appears to be nasal,’ said Ruby, zooming in.

  ‘Don’t be so picky. It says he’s a wine enthusiast,’ added Kim.

  ‘Nope,’ said Ruby swiping the screen. ‘Wine enthusiast means he’s a drunk.’

  ‘How can you tell?’ asked Kim, trying to have another look before the picture was swiped away.

  ‘You need to learn to translate. Dating app speak is a whole other language. It’s a bit like when an estate agent says a property is compact and bijou but actually what they mean is it’s so small that when you wipe your bum you’ll bang your head on the cooker.’

  Kim gave her an odd look. ‘That’s one weird layout you’ve got.’

  ‘I don’t mean my place. It was just an example.’ Ruby scrolled to another profile. ‘Look, let me explain. For example, Has a love of classic cars probably means his old banger failed its MOT. No ties – homeless. Enjoys the outside – recently released from prison. And Animal lover – has a police record for something unspeakable.’

  Kim recoiled. ‘It was a lot easier in my day when everyone went to clubs. You’d check someone out one week, snog them the next and if he took you for chips when the club closed you’d arrange to meet him in daylight.’

  ‘Ah, the good old days,’ said Ruby, turning the door sign to closed.

  ‘Watch it, cheeky. I knew my Vince was the one when he gave me his sausage.’

  ‘Eurgh. Too much information,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Battered sausage …’ clarified Kim.

  ‘Now there’s kinky,’ said Ruby. Kim gave her a playful swipe as she passed.

  They busied themselves with tidying up the stock, refreshing water and binning the stems past their best. Ruby sorted out the back room while Kim began checking what orders had to go out over the weekend.

  Each time Ruby bent down her hair flopped into her face. She swept it into an impromptu bun and stuck a pencil in it. ‘My hair needs a cut,’ she said. It would have to go to the bottom of a very long list.

  ‘I like it long. It’s such a beautiful colour. Mine’s mud brown with grey highlights.’

  Ruby had grown to like her red hair. ‘You could always dye yours a similar colour to mine.’

  ‘Knowing my luck, it’d come out orange and I’d look like an angry traffic cone. Oh, I meant to say earlier, will you be okay on your own next Friday morning?’ asked Kim. ‘My cousin is going to pop round to mine and give me a cut and colour on the cheap. I’ve got to get my roots done.’ Kim tilted her head in Ruby’s direction as evidence. ‘I’ll be the full Father Christmas by autumn at this rate,’ she added with a chuckle.

  ‘Ah, I’ve booked next Friday off as holiday. I put it on the calendar.’ Ruby went a bit stiff. She hadn’t prepared an excuse for what she was up to as she hadn’t expected she’d have to explain. She’d been planning to pass it off as a long weekend.

  ‘Okay. Not to worry. I can rearrange it. I mean I’ll look like Worzel Gummidge’s scruffy older sister but that’s okay, I’ve got no one to impress.’

  Ruby felt instantly bad. ‘I’m really sorry but it’s a thing I can’t change.’

  Kim tilted her head. ‘A thing? Does the thing have a name?’

  Ruby didn’t want to lie to Kim. She was her friend, as well as her boss, but she could hardly tell her the truth either. Ruby busied herself with cashing up. ‘No … it’s an appointment.’ It was the first thing that popped into her head. She could feel Kim’s eyes were scrutinising her and she concentrated on counting out the notes.

  ‘Ruby, is everything okay?’ Kim’s voice was full of concern.

  Now she’d gone and worried her. Lying was a minefield. ‘Everything’s fine. It’s just a routine appointment.’ She glanced at Kim and instantly felt guilty.

  Kim gave Ruby’s arm a squeeze. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Totally,’ said Ruby. Although totally sure was absolutely the last thing she was.

  Chapter Two

  It was the next Friday morning and Ruby had changed her outfit four times, but she wasn’t sure why. What she wore for her trip to London really didn’t matter although it somehow did to her. She’d eventually gone for her favourite vintage dress in a classic pattern. She felt good in it, it was comfortable and she had a long journey ahead of her. She had a bottle of water, some gum and a novel for the journey – she was all set. She rarely ventured out of Sheffield, let alone all the way to London so she was a bit nervous. But this was something she was serious about and if the best she could afford was in London then that was where she had to go.

  When she walked into the station there were a lot of cross-looking people milling about. She glanced at the board and saw that two trains to Manchester Piccadilly were cancelled. She started to panic. She’d not considered there being a problem with the train although she had left plenty of time, mainly because she was hoping to buy a hot chocolate and have a browse through the magazines. She hastily scanned the board. There was a train to London leaving from platform two in five minutes and she felt an urgency to get this earlier one. She spun around looking for signs and when she spotted platform two on the other side of the crowd her pulse quickened.

  ‘Excuse me! Train to catch. Whoops. Sorry. Thank you.’ She made her way through the grumbling commuters and raced for the platform. When she got there a train was pulling in and her heart was pounding to the beat of Beyoncé’s ‘Single Ladies’. That song felt like an anthem for her life and she chuckled to herself, which elicited a frown from a nearby man. There was someone in a railway uniform further down the platform and she almost jogged up to them. ‘Is this the train to London?’ she asked. They just nodded their reply. ‘Thank goodness.’ She puffed out a breath. That had been close.

  She could see it was quite busy so she made her way to the last carriage and sat in the first free seat. It was an earlier train than she’d planned to get but after the panic of the cancellations she was just glad to be on one. She now had a
ridiculous amount of contingency time but that might be handy if she couldn’t find where she was going at the other end. The London underground with all its zones and multiple lines in fancy colours looked like you needed to be a member of Mensa to negotiate it.

  She popped her water on the table in front of her, got out her book and tried to relax. She had no sooner started to read when the carriage door slid open, someone entered and stopped right next to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said. He had one of those sensual voices you were drawn to.

  ‘Yeah,’ replied Ruby looking up. He was tall, smartly dressed with neat dark hair and remarkable blue eyes. She put on her best smile. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s my seat,’ he said. The voice was still delicious but his manner was belligerent.

  ‘Look, there’s seats right there.’ She pointed at the spare pair of seats across the aisle.

  The man’s eyes followed her finger. ‘But those are pointing the wrong way. I like to sit facing the direction of travel.’

  Ruby had a quick look down the carriage, but she couldn’t see any free seats facing the same way as she was.

  ‘I’m sure those seats are fine or maybe you could check if there are others facing the direction of travel in another carriage.’ She was settled now and this was a window seat, unlike the ones across the aisle.

  ‘But this is the quiet carriage. I always travel in the quiet carriage because I like to work in peace.’

  He might have had cheekbones to die for but he was getting irritating now. Why did handsome men think they could boss women around? ‘Sorry, but it’s only a seat and I got here first. So …’ She gave a jaunty shrug and went back to her book hoping that would give him the message that the conversation was over.

  The man cleared his throat. ‘I’ve pre-booked this seat. Carriage A. Seat seventeen.’ He placed what looked like a train ticket on the table in front of Ruby and when she pulled her nose out of her book, he pointed from the ticket to a small digital display above her, which was flashing Reserved from Sheffield. Bugger, she thought. She’d not been on a train in years and hadn’t even known you could book seats.