Forget Me Knot Read Online Free

reasons connected to one particular Monty Python sketch they both happened to adore, fruit buns became known as fruit bats . The TV remote became the dibber . Once, when Abby glanced at a restaurant bill that Toby was about to pay, she gasped, “My God, that’s not a bill, it’s a full-on William.” Toby had burst out laughing and, from then on, they referred to all bills as Williams .
    As the weeks turned into months, Abby found herself falling in love. It wasn’t just Toby’s looks, intelligence, sharp wit, attentiveness and generosity that captivated her. There was something else, something that went much deeper and that Abby found irresistible. At thirty-four, Toby was a real grown-up. Abby had dated too many men who, even as they hit their mid-thirties, were still trying to work out what they wanted from life and where they were going. They were frustrated, tormented types who—often for good reason— yearned to give up jobs that gave them no satisfaction and take off round the world on a Harley. They weren’t sure if they could commit to a long-term relationship. Marriage, a mortgage and children felt like a trap. One of her old boy friends went even further and said it felt like “death.”
    Abby wasn’t unsympathetic. She understood their frustrations, but having spent years struggling to build a successful business, she wanted to be with somebody who was as focused and determined as she was. Toby fitted the bill perfectly. He’d had his fill of backpacking and jobs in seedy beach bars in Thailand. Now he wanted to build up his career and settle down.
    Toby said it was her humor and feistiness that had stolen his heart.
    In the beginning at least, class difference wasn’t an issue. Toby made light of his aristocratic roots and so did she. After all, it wasn’t as if Toby were some chinless squire who strode around the shires in plus fours, expecting the lower classes to doff their caps. He worked for a living, just like she did. It did occur to her that when she met his family— his mother in particular—they might look down on her because she knew none of the “right” people and hadn’t been to posh schools, but she was too much in love to give it much thought. Not only could she stand up for herself, but Toby would never let anybody hurt her.
    Jean and Hugh were so intimidated by Toby’s status and wealth that it took them a while to relax and get to know him. The first time Abby brought Toby home for dinner, Hugh felt the need to splurge on a thirty-pound bottle of wine. Jean prepared for his visit by having all the carpets, curtains and upholstery cleaned and insisting Hugh drag all Grandma Ginny’s long-discarded silver-plated cutlery and tableware down from the attic.
    Jean also fretted about whether fish knives and forks were bourgeois and suburban and instructed Hugh not to refer to the living room as the “lounge.”
    Toby, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be remotely illat ease. He arrived bearing Maison du Chocolat truffles for Jean and was in top form all evening. Over predinner drinks, when Jean prattled on nervously about her garden, he showed genuine interest and asked questions. Ditto when Hugh started banging on about the special features on his new Citroen C4.
    “The sat nav comes as standard, of course, but you pay extra for the speed limiter. What with all the police cameras around these days, I thought it had to be worth every penny… Now, then, Toby, why don’t you try some of Jean’s mushy pea dip? It’s rather good.”
    Jean blushed and tried to cover her embarrassment with nervous laughter. “Hugh, it’s guacamole. I’m always making it. You love it.”
    “I do?” Hugh said, his brow knitted in confusion.
    “Course you do. I made it the last time your sister Kath came over, and you practically ate the lot.”
    “But that must have been ages ago. Kath’s been in the mental hospital for three years.”
    Jean flushed scarlet. “Another ham and cheese