Summer Secrets at the Apple Blossom Deli: A laugh out loud feel-good romance perfect for summer. Portia MacIntosh

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СКАЧАТЬ and you only need to look over the Marram Bay Facebook group page to see that you’re just not wanted.’

      ‘Can I join this group?’ I ask, undefeated.

      ‘Well, it’s for locals only,’ she says quickly.

      ‘I’m local now,’ I point out with a smile.

      Avril thinks for a moment.

      ‘I’ll have to ask the group. Apple Blossom Cottage sits just outside the main town, and the group is for the main town only. I’m sure you understand.’

      ‘Oh, I understand,’ I reply.

      ‘Perhaps it’s best to bow out now, before more upset is caused. You said it yourself, your son isn’t fitting in. And, well, our children are smart. They can tell we’re upset and if they know you’re to blame, your poor son is going to be collateral damage. Perhaps you need to put your son first – we always put our children first, it’s so important.’

      I purse my lips, lest a ‘go duck yourself’ escapes from between them.

      Right on cue, the school bell goes and all the little acorns come charging out of the door.

      ‘See you around, ladies,’ I say, before walking off to meet Frankie.

      After the horde of kids, my own finally appears, all alone, without the gleeful smile or the urgency the others showed. Oh no, it must have been a bad day again.

      ‘Hey, kiddo,’ I say brightly. ‘She try to starve you to death today or did my threats work?’

      Frankie laughs, just a little.

      ‘Good day?’

      He shrugs.

      I usher him towards the car and strap him in.

      ‘I know we’re off to a bit of a rocky start, and that it feels like we’re not fitting in, but we’ve only been here two days,’ I assure him. ‘Things will get better.’

      ‘No one likes us,’ he says, sounding dejected.

      ‘No one knows us,’ I remind him. ‘Let’s just give it a bit longer, OK? I will if you will.’

      Frankie nods. He really is an amazing little man, which is probably why this is making me so mad. He should be so happy here and it’s not fair that the Mumsnet brigade are making him ‘collateral damage’ – well, I won’t have it. We will be happy here, and they will accept us. I’ll make sure of it.

      Out of nowhere a quad bike flies past us at a junction. I stop my car and breathe for a second. First the locals ask us to leave, now it’s like they’re literally trying to drive us out of town. Well, they’re going to have to try harder than that.

Chapter 10

      I’m the first person to hold my hands up and say that I’m clumsy. I make awkward jokes at inappropriate times. I know some words that sailors don’t, but I’m working on all of the above. I can identify my shortcomings, and I think that’s something we all should be able to do.

      Similarly, I know my strengths, and one of those strengths is coming up with plans to try and achieve the things I need to do. So last night I sat down – I was going to write in my as yet untouched diary, but I’d rather wait and start it when I have much nicer things to say – grabbed my laptop and figured out a plan of attack, to get the locals on board with the deli. I made a list of ideas, all of which I think could make a real difference, and then went to bed happy, ready to start the following day with a plan of action that would bring me results.

      Yep, today was going to be a great day, until thirty seconds ago when I pulled up outside the deli to meet Mike.

      ‘Oh sh—’

      ‘Exactly,’ he laughs. ‘Cow, I’d guess.’

      ‘But…how?’

      We stand together at the front of the deli, staring at what used to be a beautifully clean stone wall. Today, however, it’s covered in cow dung.

      ‘And you thought the drains smelled bad,’ Mike laughs.

      ‘Mike, it isn’t funny,’ I insist. ‘You know someone has done this on purpose, right?’

      ‘No?’ he replies. ‘Surely not…’

      ‘Well, unless a herd of cows just happened to pass by last night – cows who have perfected their aim, and the art of synchronised sh…sitting.’

      I’m quick to correct myself. Just because Frankie isn’t here, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.

      ‘I was thinking maybe it was just because of a malfunctioned tractor or something – that’s pretty effed up,’ Mike replies, rubbing his stubbly chin. I can’t help but notice he edited himself there, which means he’s obviously picking up on my efforts. ‘The locals really don’t want this deli to open, do they?’

      ‘They don’t. You know they’ve got some little town Facebook group where they talk about us, right?’

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