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    Chance-met Stranger
    Chance-met Stranger
    Chance-met Stranger
    Ebook107 pages1 hour

    Chance-met Stranger

    By Marina Oliver

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    About this ebook

    Janie Tempest's idyllic cottage, left to her by her godmother, is being demolished to make way for a new industrial park, and at the last minute the removal company can't do the job of moving her large items.
    Luckily the men dealing with her neighbour's move are willing to help.
    The handsome Manuel asks her out for dinner, and then becomes involved in her feckless sister's latest disaster.
    To make things even worse, Brian, the step-nephew of her godmother produces a will leaving the cottage to him.
    Previously published as A Dangerous Love by Livvy West

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMarina Oliver
    Release dateAug 14, 2011
    ISBN9781466085329
    Chance-met Stranger
    Author

    Marina Oliver

    Most writers can't help themselves! It's a compulsion. Getting published, though, is something really special, and having been so fortunate myself I now try to help aspiring writers by handing on tips it took me years to work out. I've published over 60 titles, including four in the How To Books' Successful Writing Series, and Writing Historical Fiction for Studymates.I have judged short story competitions, been a final judge for the Harry Bowling Prize and was an adviser to the 3rd edition of Twentieth Century Romance and Historical Writers 1994. If you want to find out more about your favourite authors, consult this book. I once wrote an article on writing romantic fiction for the BBC's web page, for Valentine's day.I have given talks and workshops for the Arts Council and at most of the major Writing Conferences, and helped establish the Romantic Novelists' Association's annual conference. I was Chairman of the RNA 1991-3, ran their New Writers' Scheme and edited their newsletter. I am now a Vice-President.As well as writing I have edited books for Transita, featuring women 'of a certain age', and for Choc Lit where gorgeous heros are the norm.I was asked to write A Century of Achievement, a 290 page history of my old school, Queen Mary's High School, Walsall, and commissioned to write a book on Castles and Corvedale to accompany a new circular walk in the area.Most of my Regencies written under the pseudonym Sally James are now published in ebook format as well as many others of my out of print novels which my husband is putting into ebook format. Our daughter Debbie is helping with designing the covers. For details of all my books and my many pseudonyms see my website.

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      Book preview

      Chance-met Stranger - Marina Oliver

      CHANCE-MET STRANGER

      BY

      MARINA OLIVER

      Janie Tempest's idyllic cottage, left to her by her godmother, is being demolished to make way for a new industrial park, and at the last minute the removal company can't do the job of moving her large items.

      Luckily the men dealing with her neighbour's move are willing to help.

      The handsome Manuel asks her out for dinner, and then becomes involved in her feckless sister's latest disaster.

      To make things even worse, Brian, the step-nephew of her godmother produces a will leaving the cottage to him.

      Chance-met Stranger

      By Marina Oliver

      Copyright © 2016 Marina Oliver

      Smashwords Edition

      The moral right of the author has been asserted

      Cover Design by Debbie Oliver

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      First published as A Dangerous Love by My Weekly Story Collection and Linford large print, under the pseudonym Livvy West.

      See details of other books by Marina Oliver at www.marina-oliver.net

      Author Note

      Most of my novels are historicals, but I occasionally write contemporary fiction as well, like this shorter novella, and then I have used pseudonyms.

      We've moved house several times, and though no removal company has let us down as Janie was let down, there have been some – shall I say interesting – moments!

      On one move the van, having broken down and then been towed to the house, completely blocked the narrow lane, and people had to use a diversion.

      On another the van had about an inch to spare when reversing into a gateway.

      CHANCE-MET STRANGER

      BY MARINA OLIVER

      Chapter 1

      Janie looked at the receiver in disbelief.

      'What do you mean, you can't come? You'll be late?' she added hopefully.

      'No, love, we can't come at all today. Overbooked, see, an' the other small van's broke down comin' back from a job yesterday. Friday's the first we can manage.'

      She took a deep breath. This couldn't be happening. It was a dream, a nightmare.

      'But I have to be out of here by tomorrow at the latest. Tomorrow, Wednesday. You know that! I told him, your boss, when I booked you. And he promised! Put me through to the manager.'

      'Sorry, love, he's drivin' one of the vans. Jack's off sick, see.'

      For ten minutes she argued, pleaded, threatened, and almost cried, but it did no good. Friday was the earliest they could come, and the bulldozers would be here on Thursday.

      Janie raked her fingers through her hair and grabbed the Yellow Pages. Thank goodness she hadn't packed that. Had it been a premonition? Tugging the belt of her bathrobe tighter, she abandoned the idea of a shower. She had more urgent things to do.

      For sixty frustrating minutes during which she became even more desperate, she rang every removal company within a radius of thirty miles. None could help.

      What on earth could she do? Who could help her move her big pieces of furniture? Most of her friends lived some distance away, and none of them had big enough cars anyway. Or they would be at work. That reminded her of Liz. Her sister temped, and as often as not had no job to go to. Hadn't she mentioned a new boyfriend with a big estate car? Even though Liz lived twenty miles away, north of Bristol, that would be better than nothing. It was a forlorn hope, but it was one.

      She dialled, but there was no reply. Liz might be at work. She'd try her later in case she'd just been out shopping, but meanwhile she was cast back on her own resources. They were limited. If she hired a roof rack, could she get any of her furniture on it?

      She went to the window to look at her tiny Corsa sitting outside the cottage, though she already knew it would not hold the larger pieces of furniture that were left. A roof rack would mean half a dozen separate trips, and in any case she doubted whether she could get the wardrobe or the bed downstairs on her own, and she certainly couldn't lift them on to a rack. She might, however, persuade a friend to help later that evening, when they were home from work. She'd leave messages with those who had answerphones, or get them on mobiles.

      For a crazy, desperate moment she wondered whether to appeal to Brian. He worked for a big transport firm near Avonmouth docks, and no doubt had access to all sorts of vehicles, then dismissed the idea. He'd be busy, and even if he wasn't he'd delight in refusing to help her. The days when he'd tried to become more than a casual acquaintance were long past, and he'd taken her rejection of his overtures badly. They met occasionally, living in the same area, but had no closer relationship.

      Once more she considered the possibilities of the Corsa. With the back seats down it was quite roomy. She'd already moved the boxes, the books and china and chairs. Even the armchair had gone into it. True, she'd had to leave the tail gate open when she took her kitchen table, and there was no way she could get her bed, the settee, or the wardrobe in even if she could haul them that far.

      She was reaching for her address book when a loud, imperious voice caught her attention.

      'Do be careful, man!'

      'It's OK, keep your hair on.'

      Janie glanced through the window and saw her neighbour, the rather superior Mrs Kemp, standing on the circular gravel drive in front of her house. She was gesticulating as two large men carried out something shrouded in grey blanket. Most of her stuff had gone yesterday in two huge pantechnicons, but she'd mentioned the last of it would be taken today. They had a small van parked in the drive, so close to the house Janie hadn't noticed it before. She felt a surge of hope. Perhaps, when they had moved Mrs Kemp's things, they would be able to do hers. She had very little left, only a few big items. They wouldn't take long.

      She almost tripped over the doorstep in her haste, and saved herself by clutching at the door knob. The door swung to, the latch clicking, but Janie scarcely registered it as she ran down the path and along the grass verge towards her neighbour's house.

      As she reached the van one of the furniture removers stepped back and collided with her.

      'Oof!'

      Janie, winded, came to an involuntary halt. She'd have fallen if he hadn't grabbed her round the waist.

      'You OK?' He had a deep voice, with a slightly foreign intonation. It wasn't quite American, but she couldn't identify it.

      Janie glanced up at him, struggling to regain her breath. His hair was black, his skin deeply tanned, and he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She was tall, but she only came up to his shoulder. She wondered whether he had Mediterranean blood. He was dark enough. Was his accent Italian, or Spanish, perhaps?

      Before she could decide Mrs Kemp's acid tones brought her back to the present.

      'Janie, my dear child, is the house on fire?' Mrs Kemp demanded. ‛And aren't you dressed yet? You are always so impetuous. Tempest by name, and tempest by nature.'

      'Sorry,' Janie gasped. She felt guilty of all sorts of unmentionable sins, and blushed furiously. The belt of her robe had worked loose and she was barely decent. And what was she doing, admiring the good looks of a furniture removal man and trying to identify an accent when she had far more important things to think about?

      Mrs Kemp sniffed. 'You never think before you act.'

      She was the widow of a Colonel, prim and proper. If there were any good works to

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