The Kent countryside stretches out around us, all rolling fields and winding country lanes, the occasional hamlet breaking up the endless green. Christa drives with one hand casually on the wheel, the other fiddling with the volume of the radio as we make our way deeper into what feels like the middle of nowhere.
I glance at my phone. The blue dot on the map confirms that we’re about fifteen minutes away from Little Hadlow, the tiny village where Jasper lives.
I exhale. “I still feel bad for dragging you into this.”
Christa scoffs. “Ivy, if you say sorry one more time, I’m kicking you out of this car.”
I smirk. “While it’s moving?”
“I’ll slow down.”
I chuckle, shifting in my seat. “It’s just… I know you were looking forward to today. And now instead of relaxing at the pool, you’re driving me around the country so I can look after someone else’s child.”
Christa waves a hand dismissively. “And yet, weirdly, I don’t mind? Lucy needs looking after. That takes priority over a steam room. Plus,” she throws me a sly look, “I’m kinda curious to see where Theo’s brother lives. From what you’ve said, I am picturing some countryside bachelor pad with questionable furniture choices.”
“Same,” I admit. “I’ve only seen him once, when you and I went to the café for the first time.”
“Well, we’re about to get a front-row seat to his life,” she says as we turn onto a narrower road, lined with stone walls and wildflowers.
A few minutes later, we drive past the sign for Little Hadlow, a picture-perfect village if I’ve ever seen one. It’s all thatched roofs, ivy-covered brickwork, and a high street that consists of a pub, a post office, and a tea shop. The kind of place where everyone probably knows everyone, and news spreads faster than broadband.
Christa whistles. “Cute.”
I nod. “Very.”
We follow the sat nav through the village and onto a quieter road, passing some charity shops and an old church before turning into a long gravel driveway.
Our jaws drop.
The house is massive. More villa than cottage, with sprawling gardens, elegant stonework, and large sash windows gleaming in the late morning sun. There is an extension to the left that looks like a weird add on—might be a granny flat—but the rest belongs in a magazine spread rather than a sleepy village.
Christa parks in front of the extension. “When exactly were you planning on telling me that Theo’s brother is secretly aristocracy?”
I shake my head, still staring. “I didn’t know.”
Before I can process the sheer size of the place, the front door swings open.
Jasper stands in the doorway, tall and broad like Theo, but with a scruffier edge. He is clean shaven whilst Theo always has a bit of a stubble. Jasper’s hair is also a bit lighterand has some streaks in it that look like his genes couldn’t decide if they wanted him to be dark haired or blond. His eyes are currently clouded with pain. His arm is cradled against his chest in a stiff, awkward position, but he still manages a grin.
“Welcome to the countryside,” he says as if we’ve just popped by for afternoon tea.
I hop out of the car, closing the door behind me. “Jasper, are you—”
“Fine,” he interrupts smoothly, waving me off with his good hand. “A bit of a tumble, nothing dramatic.”
Christa side-eyes me. I side-eye her back.
Lucy suddenly appears at Jasper’s side, beaming. “Ivy! You came!”
“Of course I did,” I say, crouching down to hug her. “You okay?”
She nods eagerly. “Uncle Jasper fell, but he said he’s super strong, so it’s probably okay.”
Jasper grins, but his fingers twitch slightly against his injured arm.Yeah. He’s in pain.
He gestures for us to come inside. “Come in, come in. I’ll give you the quick tour before I head off.”
We step inside, and my jaw drops again.
