The Perfect Match
Authors: Katie Fforde
Contents
Three years ago, Bella Castle left her home town nursing a broken heart over Dominic Thane, the man she fell in love with, but couldn't have.
Now she’s made a life for herself in the country working as an estate agent.
She loves her new home, her new job, and she loves her new boyfriend Nevil who also happens to be her boss.
They seem to be the perfect match for each other.
But although Nevil’s just proposed to her, he’s been strangely preoccupied recently. And Bella can’t understand why.
Then Dominic turns up unexpectedly, throwing all her plans and good intentions into disarray.
And Bella begins to question if her new home really is where her heart is ...
I live in the beautiful Cotswold countryside with my family, and I’m a true country girl at heart. I first started writing when my mother gave me a writing kit for Christmas, and once I started I just couldn’t stop.
Living Dangerously
was my first novel and since then, I haven’t looked back.
Ideas for books are everywhere, and I’m constantly inspired by the people and places around me. From watching TV (yes, it is research) to overhearing conversations, I love how my writing gives me the chance to taste other people’s lives and try all the jobs I’ve never had. Each of my books explores a different profession or background and my research has helped me bring these to life. I’ve been a porter in an auction house, tried my hand at pottery, refurbished furniture, delved behind the scenes of a dating website, and I’ve even been on a Ray Mears survival course.
I love being a writer; to me there isn’t a more satisfying and pleasing thing to do. I particularly enjoy writing love stories. I believe falling in love is the best thing in the world, and I want all my characters to experience it, and my readers to share their stories.
To find out more visit my website at
www.katiefforde.com
, Facebook and follow me on Twitter
@KatieFforde
.
Living Dangerously
The Rose Revived
Wild Designs
Stately Pursuits
Life Skills
Thyme Out
Artistic Licence
Highland Fling
Paradise Fields
Restoring Grace
Flora’s Lot
Practically Perfect
Going Dutch
Wedding Season
Love Letters
A Perfect Proposal
Summer of Love
Recipe for Love
A French Affair
Katie Fforde
To my sister Jane Gordon-Cumming and her husband Edwin Osborn, with love and many thanks for the inspiration.
Huge thanks to Catherine and Richard Crawshaw of Besley Hill in Stroud who were so enthusiastic about this project and extremely helpful. All the mistakes (and there will be some!) are my own but you were both brilliant.
Major thanks too goes to my sister Jane and brother-in-law Edwin who helped me in so many ways, even when they weren’t aware they were doing it. I’m so happy we now live so near each other!
Enormous thanks as always to the amazing sales team. Also Jen Doyle, Rebecca Ikin and Sarah Arratoon in marketing, who perform their alchemy with such cheerfulness and good humour. Thanks are always due to the amazing Charlotte Bush and Amelia Harvell who are so professional but even more fun.
To my wonderful editors Selina Walker and Georgina Hawtrey-Woore who are also so kind and understanding as they urge me on to better efforts.
Also Richenda Todd who controls the fine detail but doesn’t touch my jokes.
And of course, Bill Hamilton from A M Heath, always a rock.
There will be many people I should have thanked but please trust that I am not ungrateful, just terminally forgetful.
Thank you all!
BELLA CASTLE TOOK
a breath and put on a smile she hoped would hide her frustration. She and her clients were standing in front of a little gem of a house and yet it had just been deemed unsuitable.
‘It might be a good idea to have some sacrificial boxes too, ones that you don’t mind if they don’t get ticked,’ she said gently. ‘While it’s useful to make a checklist, you don’t want to be ruled by it or you’ll never find a house.’
Bella had grown very fond of the Agnews over the eight months she had been trying to find them somewhere that fitted their requirements, but she did sometimes find them exasperating. They had small-stately tastes with semi-detached money. Big rooms, large garden, views, a garage, a restricted search area and a reluctance to compromise made them something of a challenge. This particular garden, filled with roses and other summer flowers, was deemed ‘too small and too much on the flat’ although a level garden was one of their top priorities.
Mrs Agnew raised her eyebrows. She knew she was fussy and could even laugh at herself, but she hadn’t so far managed to compromise. ‘OK, I’ll have “rose-covered arbour” as my sacrificial box. Darling?’ She looked at her husband.
‘What about the “wildlife in the garden essential”?’
Mrs Agnew shook her head. ‘I couldn’t compromise on the wildlife.’
‘No need to,’ said Bella briskly. ‘There’s always wildlife.’ She said this with a certainty she hoped masked her ignorance, but given they were in one of the less populated parts of the Cotswolds, she was fairly confident.
‘Then I’ll have “model-train room” as mine,’ said Mr Agnew, who was slightly less fixed in his ideas of the perfect home.
Mrs Agnew chuckled gently and then looked wistful. ‘Will that make it easier to find our dream home?’
Bella laughed. ‘I’m sure it will.’
She was aware that she was very lucky; living with her godmother, Alice, who had a house the Agnews would die for, made it possible for her to stay in this desirable area in a way she could afford.
She watched them drive away from the charming house that she’d been convinced would be perfect for them and then got into her own car. She
was
disappointed. There was another family who’d been unlucky on a house that had gone to sealed bids and if she found just one of these clients somewhere to live she’d be content. She was about to set off back to the office when her phone went. It was Nevil, her boyfriend and her boss.
‘Any good?’ he asked, after the briefest greeting. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he went on, ‘it made her “feel hemmed in”.’
Bella felt instantly protective. These were her clients and only she was allowed to consider them fussy. ‘Come on, Nevil, if a house isn’t right, it isn’t right, and that last property I showed them was a bit claustrophobic.’
‘So what was wrong with this one?’ he said. Bella could picture him, one eyebrow raised, pencil poised over his pad, which he mostly used to doodle on.
‘Too flat,’ said Bella.
‘Ye Gods!’
‘I’m going to come back to the office now. There are a few bits I need to see to,’ she said quickly, before he could go on about her favourite clients any more.
‘No! No need to do that, sweetie,’ said Nevil, going from irritating boss to conciliatory boyfriend in an instant. ‘It’s four o’clock – you push off home. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Nevil wasn’t usually one for suggesting she ‘pushed off home’ and she was a bit taken aback. ‘Oh, OK then.’ She paused. ‘I might call on Mrs Langley.’
‘Good plan! See if she’s finally decided to put her desirable six-bed on the market. God, she must rattle around in there.’ He chuckled. ‘Sorry, hon, there I go again – always the estate agent! You go and see your old lady. And pick up some flowers on the way, keep the receipt and take the money out of petty cash.’
Bella wished she hadn’t mentioned Mrs Langley. Nevil, though well meaning, didn’t understand that garage carnations didn’t really set the heart racing. ‘To be honest, she’s got a garden full of flowers, but it’s a sweet thought.’
‘Get her some chocolates then – something nice.’
‘Nevil, it’s OK. I’m sure when she’s ready to move she’ll let us know.’
‘It’s good of you to keep up the pressure though, Bells,’ said Nevil. ‘It shows your dedication to the job. I do appreciate that.’
As she set off in her car Bella thought about Nevil. He did get it wrong sometimes but his heart was in the right place. She found she was smiling. She’d been very lucky to find a new job in an estate agency in a very pretty market town only forty-five minutes away from her hometown, run by a man who, while not exactly pretty, was easy on the eye.
Mrs Langley had been a client who had been very easy to please, basically because, after a long chat, Bella had discovered she didn’t really want to move and told her so. It had been a huge relief to Mrs Langley, who wanted to stay with the garden she had spent nearly fifty years creating. Bella had told her how simple it would be to turn the morning room into a pretty bedroom and how, with the utility room next door, she could have an en-suite and that she need never go upstairs again if she didn’t want to. They had been firm friends ever since and whenever Bella called she was guaranteed a cup of tea and a piece of cake. Bella found she often needed cake in her business. Being an estate agent required an awful lot of patience.
Nevil was aware that Bella called relatively often but he didn’t know that Bella never brought up the subject of moving unless Mrs Langley did first, and then it was to reassure her that it wasn’t a good idea unless she really wanted to, no matter what anybody said.
Bella and Mrs Langley sat in the flower-filled garden at the rickety iron table on rickety iron chairs saved from being desperately uncomfortable by faded cushions that smelt faintly of old shed. A little way away from the house, it was Mrs Langley’s favourite spot, close to a creaking arbour and threatened by a huge rambler, which, now it was June, bore hundreds of tiny, very fragrant flowers that scrambled beyond the arbour and up into the nearby tree. Bella couldn’t help thinking how much the Agnews would love it, if only they were millionaires and Mrs Langley wanted to move.
Bella was handed a cup and saucer and a plate. ‘You must have known I was making lemon drizzle,’ she said, indicating the cake.
Bella sighed happily. ‘You know I adore everything that comes out of your oven but lemon drizzle is a bit of a favourite.’ She took a mouthful.
‘My nephew’s been in touch,’ said Mrs Langley after a few moments’ contented silence.
Bella swallowed and paid attention. It had been Mrs Langley’s great-nephew – although she missed out the ‘great’ when she referred to him – who had wanted Mrs Langley to move. Bella had always feared repercussions. It seemed Mrs Langley did too.
‘Oh?’
The elderly woman nodded. ‘Yes. He’s going to stay the night here and wants to take me out for a meal. That’s nice, isn’t it?’