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An Autumn Affair
Alice Ross
Autumn is coming. Anything could happen…Julia is contemplating an affair with ex-boyfriend Max after a chance meeting in the cereal aisle of the supermarket…and finding that he’s just as gorgeous as ever.Miranda has got it all: expensive clothes, a huge house and her enormously wealthy husband, Doug. So why does she feel as if something is missing?Faye is fed up of being treated like a child – she’s a teenager, and knows what she wants! She’s determined to escape her sleepy life at Primrose Cottage…Three women, each with two options, needing to make one choice. When it comes to affairs of the heart, nothing is ever simple!A perfect, feel-good read about love, life and family.Previously published as A Country Affair.Praise for Alice Ross:‘For lovers of Catherine Alliot, Erica James and Fiona Gibson…this one was brilliant!’ – Amazon Reviewer
Autumn is coming. Anything could happen…
Julia is contemplating an affair with ex-boyfriend Max after a chance meeting in the cereal aisle of the supermarket…and finding that he’s just as gorgeous as ever.
Miranda has got it all: expensive clothes, a huge house and her enormously wealthy husband, Doug. So why does she feel as if something is missing?
Faye is fed up of being treated like a child – she’s a teenager, and knows what she wants! She’s determined to escape her sleepy life at Primrose Cottage…
Three women, each with two options, needing to make one choice. When it comes to affairs of the heart, nothing is ever simple!
A perfect, feel-good read about love, life and family.
Available by Alice Ross: (#ulink_46c265d1-fb51-526f-96cc-983d687c317e)
Countryside Dreams
An Autumn Affair
A Summer of Secrets
Forty Things To Do Before You’re Forty
An Autumn Affair
Alice Ross
Copyright (#ulink_38cb0aee-0b36-57a1-b35d-e766da277361)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Alice Ross 2015
Alice Ross asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for 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 e-book 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.
E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474033619
Version date: 2018-07-23
ALICE ROSS escaped her dreary job in the financial services industry a few years ago and has never looked back. Dragging her personal chef (aka her husband) along with her, she headed to Spain, where she began writing witty, sexy romps destined to amuse readers slightly more than the pension brochures of her previous life. Now back in her home town of Durham, when not writing, she can be found scratching out a tune on her violin, walking her dog in wellies two sizes too big (don’t ask!) or standing on her head in a yoga pose. Alice loves to hear from readers, and you can follow her on Twitter at @AliceRoss22 (http://www.twitter.com/@AliceRoss22) or on facebook.com/alice.ross.108 (http://facebook.com/alice.ross.108).
Contents
Cover (#u3e568da1-c7d9-5274-9955-d34f10ccad8e)
Blurb (#ub5da48c9-9075-5989-8ae6-0bcaf5db3aab)
Book List (#uaf8bcc5a-0a44-5299-8709-3a6850187c72)
Title Page (#u234474a3-dbcf-5e6f-b3e3-e68461a7aedd)
Copyright (#u7bb5d7e3-0dce-52ac-ab8e-a074844fc0af)
Author Bio (#uf04c1491-f07d-57c2-bacd-c16f7f46e0ca)
Chapter One (#u8ea64350-9c19-5d01-b900-7428dfce0adc)
Chapter Two (#u85a9da61-149b-5a06-9a71-0ed6b0ae1bdf)
Chapter Three (#uc8fcd770-3829-5a8e-8c81-009816c28bb3)
Chapter Four (#ue34ab852-c130-5d9e-8d60-e613f39232ee)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_0b760924-c82a-5eda-9d0b-16ae993ec12b)
In her car, outside Primrose Cottage, Julia Blakelaw sucked in a deep breath and willed her racing heart to slow. Its worrying pace had continued the four miles home from the supermarket. Hopefully, though, she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. She adjusted the rear-view mirror and examined her reflection. Flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, and mussed-up hair met her gaze. She looked like she’d spent the entire afternoon having wild debauched sex. Which, of course, she hadn’t. In Julia’s routine life, Friday afternoons did not include wild debauched sex. They included the weekly shop at Waitrose, procuring all the necessary items to sustain a picky husband and even pickier seventeen-year-old twins.
Well, she couldn’t sit out here forever, she concluded, looking despairingly about the chocolate-bar-wrapper strewn interior of her ten-year-old Fiat Punto. Perhaps if she just breezed in and acted normally, no one would suspect a thing. After all, only the twins would be home, plugged into some electronic device, cocooned in their own little worlds. She could strip down to her undies, paint herself lime-green and stick a traffic cone on her head, and the chances of them awarding her anything more than a cursory glance would remain minimal. And even if she did fess up to having just bumped into an ex-boyfriend in the middle of the cereal aisle, it would elicit no more than a disbelieving snort or, more likely, a bout of hysterical laugher at the notion of Julia ever having had a Life Before Twins.
But, as distant as it now seemed, Julia had had a Life Before Twins. Granted, it was a bit short on the ex-boyfriend front. In-between the carrot-topped Nigel Clark when she was six years old – whose attempt to impress her by skewering worms had brought about an abrupt end to that relationship – and her husband Paul there had been only one significant other. One man who had swept her off her feet, made her laugh until she cried, made her feel like the most special, most desirable female on earth. And that man was Max Burrell.
It was almost twenty years since Julia had last seen Max but, as she’d trundled her trolley into the cereal aisle and spotted his profile, studying the line-up of healthy bran options, she’d recognised him immediately. She’d come to a juddering halt, stomach flipping over, legs turning to jelly as her eyes had carried out an involuntary physical inspection. He’d looked amazing, his lean frame clad in faded blue jeans and a grey V-necked sweater, the sleeves of which had been pushed up to reveal muscular, tanned arms. His dark-blond hair was shorter than she remembered, cut in a trendy, dishevelled style that displayed his killer bone structure. He really hadn’t changed at all. Unlike Julia. Her previously athletic form now languished under two stones of excess fat. And her once silky mane of flowing chestnut hair had somehow transfigured into an uninspiring mousy bob through which several strands of silver now lurked. Add baggy leggings, a washed-out oversized pink shirt, and not a scrap of make-up to the equation, and panic had blasted to smithereens the raft of other emotions that had skittered through her.
She’d been on the verge of orchestrating a nippy about-turn, when Max dropped the packet of healthy-something-or-other into his trolley and started up the aisle towards her. Rooted to the spot, Julia’s heart commenced a furious bout of hammering. Then he’d spotted her. His gaze snagging on hers. His mouth stretching into a devastating smile. And Julia’s head began to whirr as a barrage of memories assaulted her.
‘My God. Julia.’ Max’s grey-green eyes twinkled in the way that could always – and apparently still did – turn Julia’s insides to mush. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Before Julia could say a word, he abandoned his trolley and wrapped his arms around her.
Her nose pressed against his broad chest, Julia closed her eyes and drank in his male scent which, despite the subtle aftershave – and the twenty-year interval – was still as familiar as his profile.
He stepped back, his hands still clasping her upper arms. ‘How are you?’
About to pass out, Julia wanted to reply. Instead, she contorted her lips into some semblance of a smile. ‘Great. Fine. Never better,’ she spluttered.
‘Well, you certainly look it,’ he said, his gaze roaming over her in a way that made her resolve to dig out her Pilates DVD. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘I wish,’ she replied, with a self-deprecating laugh that she suspected made her sound slightly maniacal.
‘You look fantastic,’ he continued, the familiar lopsided grin causing a long forgotten sensation to slither down Julia’s spine. ‘So what have you been up to, in the last … what … nearly two decades?’
Julia stared at him blankly. What had she been up to over the last twenty years? And why did that sound like such a ridiculously long time, when in reality it had zipped by?
‘Oh, this and that, you know,’ she mumbled, raking a hand through her hair and wishing she hadn’t put off washing it that morning. ‘Bringing up children mostly.’
Max nodded understandingly. ‘Right. Of course. I heard you had twins.’
‘Er, yes,’ she croaked, her throat feeling like someone had emptied a hoover bag down it. ‘A boy and a girl.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘A laugh a minute,’ she retorted, thinking nothing could be further from the truth. ‘What about you?’ she asked, in an attempt to divert the attention away from herself. ‘What have you been up to?’
Max screwed up his perfect nose and lifted his broad shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. ‘Working mostly. Management consultancy. I’ve been based in New York the last couple of years but have decided it’s now time to put down some roots.’
Julia’s heart skipped a beat. It would have been strange enough having this conversation in their home town of Bristol. Surely he didn’t mean roots … ‘Here? In Yorkshire?’
Max’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Possibly. I’ve just started a contract with a company in Leeds so we’ll see how it goes.’
Julia gulped and her pulse increased its already worrying pace. Whether from horror or delight, she wasn’t sure.
‘I take it you live around here,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘We haven’t been here long. We moved up with, Paul – that’s my husband … with his, um, job.’ Heavens, had that sounded as awkward as it felt? And since when had it become weird talking about her husband?
Max didn’t say anything but continued to look at her in a way that made her paradoxically want to flee from him, and snog him – at the same time.
‘It’s really great to see you,’ he reiterated.
‘And you,’ muttered Julia, panicking as she looked into those divine eyes and suspected the snogging urge might just win out. ‘Well, I, um, must be getting on. Family to feed and all that.’
Max nodded. ‘Of course. And … who knows … we might bump into each other again. In the cereal aisle.’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ muttered Julia, shoving another hand through her hair and failing to recall any situation that had made her feel quite so strange in the last thirty-nine years.
‘Indeed they have,’ Max agreed, looking at her so intently that Julia thought she might internally combust.
Then, with another devastating smile, and a look oozing with meaning, he took his leave of her and continued up the aisle.
A good three minutes were required before Julia could coordinate her brain and legs into moving. The rest of her shopping had been carried out in an anxious fug, half of her hoping not to bump into Max again, half of her hoping she would. She didn’t. Probably just as well given that, even now, almost an hour later, her heart still thundered. But she really couldn’t spend the rest of the day in her car. Like it or not, she would have to go inside the house and face the fruit of her loins … the twins.
A bulging carrier bag in each hand, Julia entered the house via the side door that led directly into the kitchen. Her daughter, Faye, sat at the pine table, long, poker-straight, jet-black hair curtaining either side of her face as she flicked through a celebrity magazine.
‘Did you get my low-fat yogurt?’ she asked, not bothering to look up.
Resentment stabbed at Julia. Not that she expect anything else of Faye, but her lack of interest in her – and complete absorption in herself – seemed particularly poignant today.
‘Hello to you, too,’ she said acerbically. ‘And my day was fine, thank you. How was yours?’
From under her razor-sharp fringe, Faye’s heavily lined eyes flicked a look that suggested her mother may need certifying, before returning to the magazine.
‘I tell you what,’ suggested Julia in a too-bright tone. ‘How about you give me a hand to bring in the shopping and then you can see exactly what I’ve bought.’
By way of explanation, and without the effort of raising her head again, Faye held up her hands and wiggled her fingers, displaying freshly painted metallic green nails.
‘I’ll help in a minute, Mum,’ shouted through Leo. ‘But I’m at a critical stage here. If I stop now, I could be stuck on the same level forever.’
Stuck on the same level forever. The words slammed into Julia’s brain with such force that she dropped both the carrier bags. Leo’s packet of mini Mars bars slumped onto the floor, followed by a tin of tomatoes which rolled over the granite tiles. Those six words summed her up perfectly. While everyone around her got on with their lives, Julia remained well and truly stuck. Like a needle on an old record player, trapped in the same old groove, going round and round. Going nowhere. And it had taken the chance meeting with Max for her to realise it. While he had been jetting all over the world with his high-flying career, Julia’s life had drifted by in an uninteresting, unremarkable blur. In a few months’ time she would be forty. Practically middle-aged. The best years of her life behind her. And what had she done with them? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. Tears pooled in her eyes. How had she been so dense as to not even notice? How could she have been such a passive spectator, merely along for the ride, making no effort at all to direct …
‘Mum? Are you all right?’
Her daughter’s voice jolted Julia back to reality. ‘Of … of course,’ she blustered, deciding it wouldn’t be appropriate to share any of this with her offspring.
Faye looked unconvinced. ‘You seem a bit … weird. Has something happened?’
