Page 72 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

He had, of course, invited Grams to join them, but she had told him that she wanted to perfect a certain dance move and she couldn’t do that by the pond without falling into the water.

Now, he brought out the two small pizza boxes that he had packed into the picnic basket a short time ago.

‘Pizza?’ Flora’s green eyes gleamed. ‘From Platform 1?’

‘Where else?’ he replied, handing her a plate and one of the boxes.

She opened up the lid and sniffed appreciatively.

‘No mushrooms,’ he told her.

She looked up at him surprised. ‘How do you know I don’t like mushrooms?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I remembered from dinner the other week,’ he told her, as he helped himself to his own pizza.

One bite told him how excellent a chef Ryan was. ‘Deliziosa,’ he murmured. It was incredible. The cheese and dough ratio was spot on and the tomato base had precisely the correct amount of onion, garlic and oregano. Even the basil tasted Italian.

‘Isn’t it amazing?’ Flora told him between mouthfuls.

Nico nodded. ‘This is proper pizza,’ he said.

Flora smiled. ‘Well, Ryan did work for three years in Rome. Apparently the restaurant was very fashionable and popular, according to Ethan.’

‘I will have to take up his offer to go to his Italian-themed dinner one evening in Platform 1,’ he said.

‘I think they hold it once a month,’ she told him.

‘Have you been?’ he asked.

‘To the restaurant? No,’ she replied. ‘Never enough funds, unfortunately.’

‘And what about Italy?’

She shook her head. ‘No funds or time for that either.’

‘You should go,’ he told her. ‘Especially to Tuscany. The light there is incredible on a summer’s evening like this. You adore the countryside, so I’m certain you would like it there too.’

‘Do you miss it?’ she asked gently.

‘A little,’ he confessed.

‘What will you do when you leave at the end of summer?’ she asked.

He took a sharp intake of breath. He had been asking himself the same question, with no answer as of yet. ‘I guess I’ll try to build my life up once more in Italy,’ he said slowly.

But Cranfield felt like his home already. He would be sad to leave it. And even sadder to leave Flora.

His investment was in safe hands at Strawberry Hill Farm. But it wasn’t about that. It was about the people that lived there.

‘I guess what I really miss is my family,’ he confessed.

‘I’m sure.’ She looked at him with concern in her eyes. ‘Have you talked to your father since, er, you borrowed his car?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Anyway, I can’t feel much guilt about that. My father has always been monumentally selfish.’

‘Snap.’

He looked at her, interested. ‘Really? In what way?’