I hate letting RFW down by not posting, but because I'm really pushed for time with a heavy publishing schedule I've cheated with a snippet from a romantic thriller. It was recently released on Amazon. See right sidebar: Love Walked In.
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This is a fourteen-year old boy's perspective of viewing the possibility of a new dad (step dad), plus his thoughts on his best mate's observations and something his elder sister mentioned.
From the back seat of the Porsche and albeit somewhat squashed by Leo, Dominic studied Mac’s sun-tanned reflection in the rear-view mirror. He liked the American well enough and had enjoyed romping with him, but Alexander’s speculation that Mac was a likely candidate for a stepfather had hit a raw nerve.
Just for a brief moment Mac’s smile and conspiratorial wink reminded him their American guest probably knew more about his father than anyone else. Not that he minded his mother having a friend, a close friend for that matter. It was no business of his, and her eyes did have a kind of sparkle not seen for a long while.
If Mac can make her smile with little effort then that’s fine, and maybe Mac being around is not as bad as granddad made out. Granddad’s hostility had seemed a little odd. And Alexander hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on the elders before luncheon, but the Colonel and grandfather were quite openly discussing the American’s sudden arrival in London and none too pleased about it. Even the game of croquet had seemed to be a tactical ploy of collusion, and an underhanded plot of sending the unwelcome American on his way: with a flea in his ear.
Perhaps Alexander was right; that his grandfather had declared war on Mac. That the Colonel had been called upon as back-up, and Maud Baggett seconded in order to ease his mother away from the American’s grasp. He could understand their concern for his mother, for he thought her beautiful too, but he couldn’t grasp why Mac was thought of as a totally unsuitable friend for her.
Mac and Dad were good friends, and maybe mum needed someone other than Rhian to talk to. Hell, womens’ talk is okay, but Rhian never much liked dad, and dad hadn’t much liked her either. Even Rhian would agree that any fool could have seen through granddad’s less than tactical suggestion that Maud and his mother might like to go hunt out some refreshments while a game of croquet was set up.
He mused the way his mum had managed to snatch a few moments alone with Mac during a refreshment break, that is, before Mac fell asleep. It crossed his mind that Mac’s snooze was a well-timed tactical ruse to avoid further inquisition from the two old war dogs out for his blood.
He smiled to himself for he had always been told he was a chip of the old Douglas block; that is, in general appearance, yet most people referred to elements of his mother’s temperament, in that he held his own council from within and passed no judgement, not in either direction to opposing forces. Like Alexander, he viewed the events of the afternoon as having unfolded in like to an utterly bizarre Edwardian drama with family intrigue afoot. Where his mother and Mac had been for the duration of their absence stirred wild imaginings, and mention of an antique fair had drawn a few raised brows. Alexander’s theory was probably about as accurate as any posed, and maybe it was not so terrible to think that his mum and Mac might have canoodled.
Fiona had often warned: “Someone will make mum smile again, one day”
A bit soon, perhaps, but what the hell was it to do with anyone other than mum? And if mum is happy maybe life will become a lot less security conscious.
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