Marrying A Millionaire. Laura Martin

Marrying A Millionaire - Laura  Martin


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she? I suppose her family are just biding their time.’

      Cathy nodded. ‘Something like that.’

      ‘You said we,’ Sandra commented purposefully. ‘Are you married?’

      ‘Yes—umm, I mean, no. No, I’m not married, but I’m with someone.’ Cathy turned towards Robbie, who was engrossed in biting the heads off all the red jelly babies. ‘This is my son. Robbie…’ Cathy touched him on the shoulder. ‘Say hello to Sandra, Robbie. We used to go to school together.’

      ‘Hello.’ He looked up briefly, gave a formidable scowl, and then focused his concentration back on his packet of sweets.

      ‘He’s not usually as antisocial as this,’ Cathy explained. ‘But he’s a bit tired. We only moved in last night.’

      ‘Oh, he’s adorable!’ Sandra’s smile was bright—maybe just a little too bright, Cathy thought as she glanced at her fixed expression. ‘How old is he?’

      ‘Five. He’ll be six in a few weeks’ time.’

      There was a slight hesitation. ‘So…it’s just the two of you, is it?’

      Cathy nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. What about you?’ she asked swiftly. ‘Do you live around here?’

      ‘Yes. Someone I used to…er…know died and left me his little place. He was a friend of the family.’

      ‘Lucky you.’ Cathy smiled. ‘I have no connections here whatsoever. I know it’s only a few miles out of town, but it might just as well be on the other side of the world. I remember visiting once on a school field trip, and then when I saw the advert in the local paper—’ Cathy stopped babbling. It was clear she no longer had Sandra’s full attention anyway.

      ‘I want to go!’ Robbie sounded bored.

      ‘Yes, in a minute, sweetheart.’ Cathy turned and followed Sandra’s gaze, curious to know what it was that had her so completely transfixed.

      She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the green and the trees and the narrow path which wound its way to the village store. There was an old lady on a bike with an empty shopping bag hooked over the handlebars, a young girl skipping alongside a mother with a pushchair, and a man walking alone. Actually, something about him looked vaguely familiar. Cathy looked more closely and her heart skipped a sudden, unexpected beat.

      ‘I want to go!’ Robbie had finished his sweets and was tugging impatiently on Cathy’s hand. ‘Stop talking!’

      ‘Robbie!’ Cathy frowned down at her son. ‘Don’t be so rude.’

      ‘I want to go!’ He pulled free from Cathy’s grasp.

      ‘Perhaps you’d like to call by some time,’ she suggested, but Sandra wasn’t listening. Cathy looked across and saw that the object of her desire was rapidly approaching. ‘Well, I must be getting back,’ she announced after a moment. ‘Come on, Robbie, let’s go and see that horse—Robbie?’

      Cathy spun around wildly. She couldn’t see him. She scanned the area in front of the village store, the green, the duck pond where they had fed the ducks…

      ‘Oh no!’ Cathy dropped her bag of shopping and broke into a run. ‘Robbie!’ she cried. ‘Don’t go any closer! Robbie!’

      He was at the water’s edge, stepping off the path and treading carefully down the side of the bank. There had been a lot of rain last night, so it would be very slippery. Cathy ran towards him as fast as she could, wondering how he had got away from her so quickly.

      There was a cry, and she watched as he fell, sliding down the bank with a whoosh and ending up in the water. Cathy ran faster, aware out of the corner of her eye of other movement from the far side of the green.

      He was crying when she got to him. He had managed to get to his feet, but he was standing in about six inches of water and looking very miserable and frightened. ‘Robbie!’ Cathy held out her hand and tried to sound calm, despite her thudding heart. ‘Come on. Take my hand.’

      ‘I can’t!’

      ‘I’m not cross with you.’ She very carefully placed her feet at the edge of the water. ‘Come on, sweetheart.’ He was sinking. Cathy stared in horror as the top of his wellington boots began to let in water. ‘Robbie, stay still!’ she instructed. ‘I’m coming to get you!’

      Cathy stepped in. The water was cold and sludgy, but she didn’t care. She stretched forward and lifted Robbie out of the pond. It was a struggle, and for one awful moment, she thought she was going to fall, but after a distinctly wobbly moment she managed it.

      ‘Sandra, will you take him from me? I think I’m stuck now.’ Cathy held Robbie out towards Sandra, who was standing at the edge of the bank. ‘Sandra?’ she repeated, feeling the ache in her muscles as she struggled to hold Robbie clear of the water and keep herself in an upright position.

      ‘I don’t think I can reach.’ Sandra made a tiny movement and gingerly ventured near to the water. ‘My boots…’ she murmured. ‘They’re brand-new. Can’t you come a bit closer?’

      ‘No!’ Cathy inhaled a breath. ‘For goodness’ sake—!’

      ‘It’s OK. I’ll take him from you.’

      Cathy glanced to her right and saw the man from the previous evening. Oblivious of the fact that his boots were ankle-deep in mud, he took Robbie from her aching grasp.

      ‘Oh, thank you!’ Cathy had never felt so relieved to see someone take her son from her. Her arms were aching madly, and, as she had suspected, she was now stuck fast.

      ‘Wait a moment and I’ll come back for you.’ The man set a tearful Robbie down on the path and ruffled his hair. ‘Don’t cry,’ he told him gently. ‘You’re out now.’

      ‘But what about Mummy—?’

      Cathy frowned as Robbie began to cry in earnest. ‘I’m all right, darling!’ she called. ‘Just a bit stuck, that’s all.’ She tried to look cheerful, wondering at the same time how in the world they had managed to get themselves in such a pickle.

      ‘Can you move at all?’

      Cathy struggled to lift a leg. ‘No,’ she replied flatly. A crowd had begun to gather now. Cathy had never felt more ridiculous in the whole of her life. She looked across at Robbie and managed a cheerful smile, which she hoped masked some of the embarrassment she was feeling.

      ‘Don’t cry, champ!’ The man crouched down in front of Robbie, who was becoming more and more upset. ‘Mummy will be out in a flash.’

      ‘You’re going to ruin your clothes,’ Cathy warned, feeling incredibly foolish as her rescuer began wading out towards her.

      ‘They’ll wash,’ he responded, with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. Now take my hand…’

      He had a long reach, and a sureness of foot that Cathy wished she possessed. She placed her hand in his, felt the strength of his fingers as they closed around hers and in a moment she was free and being hauled away from the muddy water.

      He really was akin to a knight in shining armour, Cathy thought afterwards, when she and Robbie were safely standing on dry land again. Twice now he had come to her aid…

      ‘OK now?’

      He had the most glorious smile. Cathy inhaled a ragged breath and nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without you. I’m so sorry we’ve put you to this much trouble. What with getting so wet last night and now this…’ She glanced down at his sodden boots and mud-splattered denims. ‘You have ruined your clothes,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so sorry—’

      ‘There really is no need to keep apologising. Think nothing of it. I’m glad I was around to be of


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