The Love Shack by Jane Costello Read Free Book Online Page A

century, but it’s still immaculate. Timber framed with ochre-coloured plaster panels, there are ornate finials along the roof and two bays flanking a gabled porch. By my semi-detached standards, it’s huge – surrounded by stunning gardens, with terraced lawns and, courtesy of its position on the edge of a sandstone cliff, dramatic views of the Cheshire plains.
    It’s been a few months since I was here and, as my car crunches after Dan’s along the driveway, it strikes me as a hell of a big place for his mum and grandmother to be in by themselves.
    Dan’s car splutters to a stop and he gets out, stretching his legs and saying, ‘I feel like I’ve been shrink-wrapped for the last hour.’ He walks over and slides his arms around my waist.
    He has this entirely uninhibited way of kissing me in public that caught me by surprise the first time. For all he cares, anyone can see; when the urge to claim a moment of tenderness takes him, it’s as if no one else even exists. And it’s impossible not to be swept along by this. Dan is unequalled as a kisser, so gently powerful that, every time, it gives me a momentary amnesia that lasts for several seconds after he lets me go.
    I suddenly become aware of where we are.
    ‘We can’t smooch when your mum’s around,’ I object, but he pulls me closer in a way I find difficult to argue with.
    ‘Might as well make the most of it before I lead you into the lion’s den.’
    My body instantly responds to him, and I feel unexpectedly and inappropriately turned on. Then a voice cascades across the lawn. ‘ Joyce, wait – I’ll ask Daniel, he’ll know.’
    Dan’s mother Belinda is on the phone striding towards us purposefully. When she’s a few steps away, she covers the handset and, dispensing with formal hellos, asks: ‘Daniel: can you, or can you not catch pubic lice from the seat of a jet-ski? Joyce is phoning from the Caribbean.’
    Dan throws me a weary glance. ‘I doubt it. Why would you think I’d know?’
    ‘I thought you had an experience ?’
    His mouth drops open. ‘No.’ He turns to me. ‘I have never, ever had pubic lice. I swear.’
    ‘No, I mean you’ve been on a jet-ski,’ she tuts, then returns to the phone. ‘Joyce, Daniel doesn’t think the jet-ski could be to blame. Who’ve you been sleeping with over there?’ Protestations echo from the handset. ‘You’re going to have to see a medical professional when you get back. What about the man who did your hysterectomy? You said he was good.’
    Joyce apparently protests again. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten about the sexual harassment accusations.’ Dan’s mum rolls her eyes at us. ‘At least he dropped the charges against you.’
    When she finally gets rid of Joyce, she throws her arms around me. ‘How’s my favourite daughter-in-law?’ The fact that we’re not married and she doesn’t have any other daughters-in-law has never mattered.
    ‘I’m fantastic, thanks, Belinda,’ I reply, squeezing her arm. ‘It’s incredibly good of you to let us stay.’
    ‘Oh, it’ll be a hoot!’ She turns and glares at the Fanny Magnet. ‘What on earth is that ?’
    ‘My new wheels,’ Dan replies, marching to the car to remove the bouquet he bought this morning.
    She pulls a face. ‘I’ll find a space round the back for it.’ She takes the flowers and sticks her nose in them. ‘Ooh, lovely. He never used to buy flowers before he met you, you know,’ she tells me. ‘You’ve got him well trained. Now, come on you . . . a kiss for Mum, please – you’re not too old.’ She grabs Dan by the arm and plonks a kiss on his cheek.
    Belinda, who is in her late-fifties, is today dressed like Carole Middleton at Glastonbury: in sharp, slim jeans with a low-slung belt, Hunter wellies and a fur-lined gilet that appears to have sacrificed half a dead yak in the making.
    She wears little make-up, but is naturally attractive, with noble bone structure and good skin. I’ve told Dan a few times that I hope I