The One We Fell in Love With Read Online Free Page A

because
drivers inadvertently follow the line of their sight.
    Well, I’m not saying Angus was dangerous, but he was extremely attractive and I was understandably drawn to him.
    ‘Whoa!’ I remember him gasping, jumping out of the way as I swerved towards him.
    ‘Shit, sorry!’ I screeched to a halt.
    He took in my netball uniform with a bemused, lovely smile, and I, in turn, took in his lack of a Roger’s Removals T-shirt.
    ‘Are you Mr Templeton’s grandson?’ I asked with delight, also taking in his long legs, toned arms and honey-coloured skin while I was at it. Our elderly neighbour lost his wife
a few months ago, and Mum mentioned something about his daughter and grandson coming to live with him.
    ‘Er, yeah,’ he responded, shifting the obviously heavy box in his arms. His longish hair was partly obscuring his vision and, as he rested the box on a wall, I noticed the faded band
T-shirt he was wearing, coated with a faint layer of dust. Radiohead – one of Eliza’s favourites. He was
exactly
her type. I couldn’t wait to show him to her.
    But then he flicked his hair out of his eyes and they were so beautiful, they sort of stumped me.
    ‘I’m Angus,’ he introduced himself, his lips tilting up at the corners.
    ‘Phoebe,’ I replied, feeling inexplicably nervous. Suddenly the
last
thing I wanted was for him and Eliza to meet. His eyes were multi-coloured and unusual – one was
mostly green and the other predominantly hazel. ‘Have you come to visit your granddad before?’ I was perplexed as to how I could have missed him.
    He nodded. ‘A few times.’
    Mr Templeton had always kept to himself. I sometimes saw him from my bedroom window sitting out in the garden, but the most we spoke was when one of our netball balls escaped over the back fence
onto his property, and then it would only be returned with a lecture about flowerbed damage. I certainly hadn’t got into a conversation about his drop-dead-gorgeous grandson, but I wished I
had.
    At that point an attractive woman in her forties interrupted us. She called out hello and waved, while ducking in and out of the removal men still ferrying belongings into the house like
ants.
    ‘Hi!’ I called back, assuming this was his mum and preparing to go into full charm offensive mode.
    ‘Making friends already!’ she exclaimed with delight.
    ‘Mmm,’ Angus murmured. ‘Mum, this is Phoebe,’ he introduced us. ‘And this is my mum, Judy.’
    ‘Phoebe!’ She clapped her hands together with glee. ‘You’re one of the triplets!’
    So she knew more about me than I knew about her.
    ‘You live next door?’ Angus asked, his unusual eyes widening slightly. Okay, so they had
both
clearly been informed of our existence, but it had taken Angus longer to cotton
on.
    ‘Yeah,’ I replied.
    ‘And your sisters are Rose and Elizabeth, is that right?’ Judy checked.
    ‘Yes,’ I said with a smile. ‘But don’t call Eliza “Elizabeth” if you want her to answer. She changed her name when she was twelve because she thought it
sounded cooler.’ I said this with a light-hearted eyes-cast-to-the-heavens look and felt an immediate stab of remorse for poking fun at her.
    ‘I’ve never met identical triplets,’ Judy mused. ‘I know twins – beautiful little girls called Fifi and Bo – but they’re not identical.’
    People were
always
telling us their twin stories, so I’d had enough practice at smiling and looking interested. I’d even heard of a couple of sets of triplets over the
years, but never any
identical
triplets. We won.
    ‘You’ll be able to play Spot the Difference with us later,’ I joked.
    Strangers had been known to stop us on the street to do this, and one time we even featured in a Guess the Triplet quiz at school – Mum and Dad supplied the photographs. Rose was
mortified, bless her. She never liked being under the spotlight.
    Angus seemed in no hurry to re-join the removal men, and I soon discovered that he and his