Welcome to my stop on the Blog Tour for Finding Felix by Jo Platt!!
About the Book:
A family wedding. A fake boyfriend. A recipe for disaster! A funny, feel-good romantic comedy from bestseller Jo Platt .
Singleton Dot Riley’s grandmother, Nanny Flo, is on her deathbed, surrounded by family and distraught at the thought of Dot being all alone in the world. Desperate to make Flo’s final moments happy ones, Dot invents a boyfriend – plumping in panic for her childhood friend, Felix, a firm favourite of Flo, but whom Dot hasn’t actually seen for 15 years.
But when Flo makes an unexpected recovery a few weeks before a family wedding, Dot is faced with a dilemma. Should she tell her frail grandmother that she lied and risk causing heartache and a relapse? Or should she find Felix and take him to the wedding?
Dot opts for finding Felix. But it’s not long before she discovers that finding him is the easy bit: liking him is the real challenge.
An uplifting romantic comedy about the angst of adult relationships and the joy of rediscovering the child within. Finding Felix is perfect for fans of Anna Bell, Tracy Bloom and Debbie Viggiano.
Finding Felix is out now with Canelo Publishing
About the Author:
Jo Platt was born in Liverpool in 1968 and, via the extremely winding route of rural Wiltshire, London, Seattle and St Albans, she is now happily settled in Bristol with her husband and two daughters. She studied English at King's College London before going on to work in the City for ten years. In 2000 she escaped into motherhood and part-time employment, first as an assistant teacher in a Seattle pre-school and then was a Bristol-based secretary to her husband.
Exclusive Extract From Finding Felix!
"I’m going to have to let it out… again,’ said Eileen, running a hand through her short grey hair and sounding unmistakably peeved. As well as being a very talented dressmaker, she was also a part-time teacher at the primary school of which my sister was deputy head, and, at that moment, she was making me feel like a naughty five-year-old.
To be fair to Eileen, I deserved the telling-off. It would be the second time that she’d had to alter my bridesmaid’s dress due to weight gain since my first fitting two months earlier. And the need for alteration hadn’t come as a complete surprise to me. I had decided to weigh myself before setting off for Becca’s that morning and had been horrified to discover as I stood on the scales, that I had put on two kilograms. And that was on top of the two I had gained before my last fitting.
‘Sorry, Eileen,’ I said shamefacedly. ‘But look, why don’t you hold off making any more adjustments and I’ll make sure I lose those extra pounds by the time Becca walks down the aisle.’
Eileen looked uncertainly first at myself, then at Becca. My sister shrugged amiably. ‘If you’d rather do that, Dot,’ she smiled.
‘I would,’ I said determinedly. ‘It’ll give me something to aim for.’
‘Well I don’t mind what you do. I’ll just edge those sleeves and leave the rest. But Rebecca,’ continued Eileen, turning towards her, ‘if she’s bursting out of that dress on the big day, I want you to tell everyone that it’s her fondness for doughnuts and not my ability to sew that’s at fault.’ She gestured wordlessly for me to step out of the dress and then bent down and began picking up her pins, ribbons and tape measure from the floor of Becca’s bedroom. Becca widened her eyes at me and I pretended to nibble my nails in fear before beginning to undress.
‘And don’t think I don’t know you’re pulling faces, Dorothy,’ said Eileen. ‘I haven’t been a school teacher for thirty years without the ability to know what’s going on behind my back.’
‘Sorry, Eileen,’ I said quietly. ‘Again.’
She looked up and laughed. ‘Lose the pounds if you want to, but you’ll look beautiful at any weight. So if you decide to keep the curves and have any last-minute panics, just give me a call.’
I smiled and gave her a hug. ‘You’re a gem.’
‘And you’re in your bra and panties,’ she said. ‘Get dressed.’
Becca laughed, passing me my shirt and jeans before helping Eileen to gather the remainder of her things and heading downstairs with her to the front door.
By the time she returned, I was dressed and examining myself critically in the full-length mirror inside her wardrobe door.
‘Your BMI is just fine,’ she said, walking over and poking me in the side.
‘I know. But I have gone up a dress size since Alistair, and I don’t want it to be the start of a slippery slope. I’ll lose some of it before the wedding.’ I turned to look at her and was surprised to find her expression anxious. ‘Is everything OK?’ I asked. ‘Everything going to plan?’
She sat down on the bed. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘What’s Mum done now?’ I asked.
She looked up at me and smiled. ‘She’s very excited and looking forward to everything.’
‘And demanding constant reassurance that everything is in hand?’
Becca nodded wearily. ‘I had two phone calls late last night: the first about the photographer and the second about the cake. And then this morning she asked for a floor plan showing the number and location of the toilets in the reception venue, because Sheila is fretting over Colin’s IBS.’
I wanted to laugh but fought the urge as she was clearly stressed. It was something I had rarely seen, as she was, without doubt, the most laid-back person I knew. I regularly blew a fuse with Mum, but for Becca to be even mildly irritated was practically unheard of. Mind you, if anyone could wind a person up it was our mother, and I could see how the organisation of her daughter’s wedding might create the perfect storm of all her anxieties and expectations.
I sat down next to Becca and placed an arm around her shoulders. ‘Deep breaths and don’t let it spoil things,’ I said. ‘And if it carries on, just stop picking up the phone. Do you want me to talk to her?’
She shook her head, and, as I felt her sigh, it occurred to me that I was currently far more likely to be part of the problem than the solution. ‘She’s hassling you about Felix, isn’t she?’
Becca looked at me sadly. ‘Not hassling exactly. But he’s on her list.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘She didn’t mention him to me until a couple of days ago, but I should have realised the issue hadn’t gone away.’
‘It’s OK,’ she sighed. ‘It’s barely registered amongst all the other stuff.’
I gave her a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to call Mum the minute I get home and tell her that I’m now handling all wedding-related enquiries.’
‘But you don’t know any of the details,’ she said.
I shrugged. ‘I’ll make it up, and then the actual arrangements can be a wonderful surprise for her on the big day.’
She smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder. ‘Thanks, Dot.’
She said nothing more, and after a moment I said, ‘You’re so restrained.’
‘About what?’
‘Well if it was me, I’d be rattling you to tell me what you were going to do about Felix. We’re so different.’
She sat up. ‘I know you’ll sort it out,’ she said, looking up at me. ‘I have confidence in you.’
The statement, which I believed to be both sincere and one hundred per cent misplaced, caused me to bite my lip. ‘Thank you,’ I said quietly, before clearing my throat and adding, ‘I do have a plan, actually. But it’s a bit mad and I don’t want to worry you.’
She said nothing but looked at me questioningly.
‘I’m going to try and find him and bring him along,’ I said, now feeling a lot less confident about the proposal than when Kate had put it to me so matter-of-factly just twenty-four hours earlier. ‘I started looking for him last night, but he doesn’t seem to be on any social media and none of the Felix Davises I found on Google were the right age. But I’ve only spent an hour or so on it so far, so fingers crossed.’
She smiled.
‘You think it’s an insane plan, don’t you?’ I asked.
She didn’t reply, but instead turned and opened the top drawer of her bedside cabinet, taking out a small brown envelope.
‘He’s an accountant and living in Cheltenham,’ she said, handing me the envelope. ‘In there are his business address and phone number.’
I stared at the envelope. ‘How…?’
‘Mark looked him up,’ she said. ‘You know, just in case,’ she added, nudging me mischievously.
‘And how long have you had this?’ I asked.
‘Oh, a while.’
I nodded. She was so calm, considered and forward-thinking. I wondered, not for the first time, whether one of us was adopted. ‘Right, well, I’d better get on with it, hadn’t I?’ I said, attempting to mask fear with feigned practicality.
‘You had.’
Follow the rest of the Tour!
Comments
Post a Comment