Town Meets Country

By Susan Leona Fisher

New Lease of Life (c 13,000 words)

Single mum Rosie struggles to hold onto her job and keep her teenage son out of trouble, till her friend Kate comes up with a suggestion that will help them both. The catch is, it involves adjusting to country life, but as it's supposed to help Kate catch a man, it's all in a good cause. Little does Rosie realise that local landowner Hugh has ideas of catching her.

Posing the Question (c 10,000 words)

Fiona is thrilled when she hears of an old painting connected to her family. The trouble is, in order to get a glimpse of it, she must trespass on private property, a stately home no less. The painting's owner, Lord Marcus Derringham, is not very appreciative of her unofficial visit, until he discovers why she needs to see it.

Power to the People (c 10,000 words)

Recently elected Member of Parliament Hilary Proudfoot, is dedicated to her constituency work, single-mindedly so. She's not looking for another relationship, so it's rather inconvenient when rural development consultant Rob McKenzie sets her pulse racing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Fisher
• Release date: Mar 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215424186

Susan Leona Fisher

Susan Leona Fisher began writing fiction on her retirement, having been a technical/academic writer in her former working life. She was born in London and now lives in the Yorkshire Dales, having lived in various places in between, due to  her clergyman husband’s various postings. Her route to publication was via the New Writers’ Scheme run by the Romantic Novelists’ Association, of which she is a member. She has written 20 historical romances in settings ranging from the ever-popular Regency period to the Second World War. One of them, A Master of Litigation, made the final for historical romance in the Romantic Novel Awards 2018. She has also written several contemporary romances and one non-fiction biography.

Book preview

Town Meets Country

Three contemporary romantic short stories

by Susan Leona Fisher

Copyright © 2023 Susan Leona Fisher

All rights reserved.

The right of Susan Leona Fisher to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author.

Nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This edition published by Susan Leona Fisher in 2023.

Originally published in 2013

About the stories

New Lease of Life

Single mum Rosie struggles to hold onto her job and keep her teenage son out of trouble, till her friend Kate comes up with a suggestion that will help them both. The catch is, it involves adjusting to country life, but as it’s supposed to help Kate catch a man, it’s all in a good cause. Little does Rosie realise that local landowner Hugh has ideas of catching her.

Posing the Question

Fiona is thrilled when she hears of an old painting connected to her family. The trouble is, in order to get a glimpse of it, she must trespass on private property, a stately home no less. The painting’s owner, Lord Marcus Derringham, is not very appreciative of her unofficial visit, until he discovers why she needs to see it.

Power to the People

Recently elected Member of Parliament Hilary Proudfoot, is dedicated to her constituency work, single-mindedly so. She’s not looking for another relationship, so it’s rather inconvenient when rural development consultant Rob McKenzie sets her pulse racing.

Table of Contents

New Lease of Life

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Posing the Question

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Power to the People

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

New Lease of Life

Chapter One

Late again! The manager was bound to speak to Rosie this time. She’d had trouble getting Philip to go to school and he was too big now for her to do anything but plead and cajole. Would she be better off, financially and emotionally, if she went back on benefits? A formal warning might mean she had no choice. Then there was the question of whether Philip would actually stay in school after he’d registered. These days, parents could log on to see if little Johnny was in the lesson where he should be, and you could check how much credit he’d used up in his pre-paid dinner money account. It even recorded what he’d eaten, or at least what he’d carried away from the canteen on his tray. He might have bartered it for a bag of chips or something worse, for all she knew. It was all quite academic, since she didn’t have internet access and, anyway, she believed in trust. It was too like big brother.

She’d just sat down at her work station and logged in to her desk-top when the dragon appeared.

Miss Hudson, a word please. The penetrating voice carried across the heads of her colleagues. No one else looked up, as Rosie followed her manager into the gold-fish bowl of a supervisor’s office in one corner of the open plan area, but everyone would be aware of her telling off. They were all listening, above the light tap-tapping of fingers on keyboards. The lady sat, two bright blue eyes staring up at Rosie, above half-moon specs ... headmistress or what!

This is the third time in the past fortnight, Miss Hudson. It’s really not good enough.

I’m sorry, Mrs Jones. I can stay and make up the time after five, if that’s convenient. She’d given up offering an explanation by now.

That goes without saying ... but what is not acceptable is the implication that such regular tardiness is condoned. It really doesn’t set a good example to the younger members of the team. If it goes on much more, I’ll have to consider steps. Go back to your station now. By the way did you actually put a comb through your hair this morning?

Rosie ran her fingers through her tangle of dark hair as she left the room. She really must get it cut, but that cost a lot these days. She sat back at her desk and got straight to work, ignoring the looks of sympathy, or maybe pity, from various colleagues. Today, she was unlucky enough to be typing a report dictated by the Welsh director with the heavy accent. She had to keep replaying the recording to get it right, which did little for her productivity, and when her mobile vibrated against her hip she had to leave it to burn a hole in her pocket until lunch time. She wouldn’t get away with even reading a text message today.

When she escaped to the canteen, she listened with surprise to a voicemail from her long-time friend Kate.

Hi, Rosie, Can you and Sonia meet me on Saturday. I know our annual get-together’s due in July, but really can’t wait. Need your advice, urgently. Cheers, speak soon, Kate.

Just as she was about to ring back, a text arrived from Sonia: Sat OK for me. Where?

Rosie replied to both of them to let them know it was fine for her too, but could they meet at the pub near her flat. They would understand why, without being told. She didn’t want to be too far away from whatever Philip was up to. He might be old enough to be left on his own now, but he had a few suspect lads in his crowd, whom she didn’t trust at all.

* * * *

It was always a joy to wake naturally on weekend mornings, without the insistent alarm beeping at her, and today Rosie had her lunch date. She, Kate and Sonia had been best friends at school and, when they’d gone their separate ways at eighteen, had vowed to have a reunion on the last weekend of July every year. That had been eighteen years ago. Kate had gone to university and was now a director in the huge accountancy/consultancy firm she’d joined after graduating. Sonia had gone a similar route but now had a husband, who worked long hours, plus three young children, so could only do part-time, which meant she’d already reached her glass ceiling. By contrast, Rosie had not tried for higher education but gone straight into a secretarial role in a large wine merchant’s and had continued in various jobs, all short-term and low-paid, whenever she could, given that she’d become a single mother at twenty. Of the three of them, Kate was the determined career woman, whose life was, apparently, totally organised and under control. What on earth was so urgent, and why did the confident, self-determining Kate need her friends’ advice?

As they met, Rosie noticed how closely each of their appearances matched their respective circumstances. She was in stretch jeans, a vest top and strappy sandals, comfortably suited to this warm day, and she’d got back her trim figure years ago. Sonia was in loose cropped trousers, a baggy shirt, and trainers, since her child-bearing years were a lot more recent and she’d put on some weight. Kate looked pristine, as usual. Even her casual outfits were designer gear and her shoes Italian and Rosie hadn’t seen her without make-up since their last sleepover together, all of two decades ago. After the usual hugs and how are you’s they ordered at the bar and found a table in the garden with an umbrella for the red-headed Sonia, who burnt easily. Kate produced various pieces of paper from her bag and spread them on the table. She was very methodical as she guided the two of them through the situation. There were two newspaper cuttings.

Do either of you remember this? She showed them an article they’d both seen, published when Kate had become one of the youngest directors in her firm’s history. She looked more like a model, slender with long blonde tresses.

Of course, said Sonia, our brilliant friend. Kate smiled and showed them the second piece.

What about this one? It’s an obituary published last month. I remember noticing it at the time because the woman was so amazing. Have a look.

Sonia and Rosie examined it together. The lady in the picture was a Miss Muriel Webster and she’d recently died, at the great age of ninety-four. She’d been a life-long civil servant and had risen to a very senior rank before retiring at sixty in 1977. The three of them had been just two years old then. The photo had been taken at the time of her last promotion, when she was probably in her fifties, a spinster in twin-set and pearls. Now Kate was unfolding a letter. She was like a performer, building up the tension.

This came last week, along with the obituary. It didn’t take long to read the brief letter from a solicitor asking Kate to come for a meeting. Sonia, always one to want to get to the point, looked at Kate with astonished eyes.

She’s a long-lost cousin and you’ve inherited her millions? Kate shook her head.

Not quite. I went to meet the lawyer and he gave me this. She unfolded another letter and put it in front of them. In contrast to the other, it was hand-written and considerably longer.

I’d need my specs to make out that writing, Sonia complained. Read it out, Rosie.

"Dear Miss Anderson, You won’t know me, but I recently read the feature on your career success. I, too, achieved a top position as a single woman, following which I have been fortunate enough to enjoy over thirty years of retirement, living a simple