FALLING IN LOVE AT PENNYCRESS INN

SARAH HOPE

For my children,

Let’s change our stars

xXx

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Epilogue

Thank you!

More from Sarah Hope

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Sarah Hope

The Shelf Care Club

About Boldwood Books

1

‘Get down, Trixie.’ Nicola Fields swooshed her tortoiseshell cat from the work surface and smiled as she wound her body around her legs. ‘You don’t even realise you shouldn’t be jumping up there, do you?’

The cat purred as she looked up at her owner.

‘Umm, or else you do and you’re just aware you’ve got me wrapped around your little toe and that you can get away with anything.’

Trixie lifted her paw, placing it on Nicola’s foot.

Laughing, Nicola flicked the kettle on before reaching for the cat treats – a small packet of tuna-flavoured biscuits she kept in the cupboard beneath the sink. ‘Okay, okay. Here, have one of these.’

With Trixie content, Nicola picked up a slice of her toast, sinking her teeth into the warm, buttery goodness as she glanced at the kitchen clock: 7.30. She had fifteen minutes until she needed to leave for Pennycress Inn for work.

She opened her email app on her mobile and began scrolling through the spam emails offering her fifty per cent off an aviation magazine subscription or the chance to win something equally useful to her. Laura, the owner of Pennycress Inn and her boss, had promised to send her the contact information for a local cake baker so Nicola could book her for her mum’s birthday.

Bingo! There it was.

Just as she was about to open Laura’s email, the one below caught her eye. The formality of the subject line standing out like a sore thumb from the spammy competitions and offers she really should get round to blocking.

She took another bite of her toast as she tapped her screen to open it. Oh no. Letting the toast fall from her mouth, she didn’t even notice it drop to the kitchen floor, typically butter-side down, as she read the email – a reminder of the impending new pizza oven she’d pre-ordered for Nathan’s birthday.

The familiar feeling of dread, sorrow and relief churned in her stomach. The feeling she’d been living with and suppressing daily for the last five months since she’d walked in on her then-partner, Nathan, wining and dining their work colleague, Kerry, in their home. Her and Nathan’s home.

Her eyes were automatically drawn to the kitchen table, pushed up against the far end of the small galley kitchen. She sighed. What did she expect to see? The two cheating scumbags still sitting, laughing at the table, hands held between the candlesticks and the small vase of flowers between their plates?

He’d never done any of that for her. His idea of preparing a meal for them had involved a quick trip to McDonald’s to pick up a Big Mac and a side of fries. That’s what had stung the most, the intimacy she’d witnessed between the two of them. He was supposed to be in her corner. He was supposed to have her back, not go behind her back.

And for two years too! He’d led a double life, living with her and then seeing Kerry on the side for two whole years.

She forced herself to look away from the table and instead watched Trixie as she licked the butter from the kitchen floor. How had she not noticed? The fact neither Nathan nor Kerry had spent much time in the office should surely have been a sign. Plus, Kerry had accompanied him on all his work trips, but because Kerry was his secretary, Nicola hadn’t batted an eyelid. She’d been too trusting, too naïve, too stupid.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she supposed to do with a damn pizza oven now? He probably wouldn’t have used it, anyway. He’d been banging on about it for months, ever since he’d seen it on one of those Sunday morning kitchen shows, but whether he’d have actually used it… Well, that was a different story.

Nicola watched as Trixie jumped back on the work surface, heading straight towards the food recycling caddy, and smiled. ‘You’re right, Trixie. We don’t need him, and we certainly don’t need that stupid thing. I’ll cancel it.’

Trixie meowed as she pawed the lid of the caddy.

‘Are you still hungry?’ Nicola glanced again at the clock on the wall. She’d be late if she didn’t get a wriggle on now. ‘Right, I’ve got just about enough time to get you some biscuits before I need to run.’

And running she’d be doing. Jill was bringing the village community hub to the inn for their monthly meeting and Nicola had a list as long as her arm to get done before preparing for their welcome.

* * *

Pushing the door to the inn closed behind her, Nicola watched as the sun caught the stained-glass window, causing a rainbow of light to appear on the recently polished oak floorboards in the hallway. Growing up, her mum, who had previously run Pennycress Inn, had always told her seeing a rainbow from the stained-glass was a sign of good luck for the day ahead. Nicola grimaced. She wasn’t quite sure that email reminding her about all she’d lost with Nathan had been good luck, but maybe her luck for the day would change now.

‘Nic, is that you?’ Laura’s voice called from the kitchen to the right.

‘Morning! Yes, it’s me. Sorry I’m late.’ Walking across to the reception desk, Nicola stashed her handbag beneath the counter before turning to the computer.

‘No worries. I don’t even have a clue what the time is, but could you come here and give me a quick hand, please?’

‘Sure. Coming.’ Leaving the computer, Nicola followed the sound of Laura’s voice through to the kitchen and the utility room beyond before coming to a stop in the doorway. Trying to stifle a laugh, she took in the sight before her. The washing machine door was open, half its contents spewed out into a laundry basket sitting in front of it, and Laura was perched on top of the machine, her legs pulled up uncomfortably beneath her. ‘What on earth…?’

‘I’m like ninety-nine-point nine per cent sure I saw a mouse,’ Laura squealed, her face contorted into an expression of horror. ‘I can’t have a mouse in the inn! What if our guests see it? Plus, it’ll be a health and safety nightmare! We’ll have to stop serving breakfast…’

Stepping forward, a smile tugged at the corners of Nicola’s lips. ‘It’s a good job you’ve not got a cat. I was woken up only the other day to a poor field mouse scampering around the living room.’

‘A field mouse?’ Laura shifted a little on top of the washing machine, careful not to let her legs dangle too close to the floor.

‘Yep.’ Nicola nodded. ‘Trixie has a lot to answer for sometimes. Now, where did you see the mouse?’

‘Just there. I threw one of the towels over it.’ Laura pointed towards the heap of abandoned washing scattered across the utility floor.

As Nicola began picking up towel after towel and pushing them into the washing machine, she jumped back as a small grey lump fell to the floor. Squinting, she began to laugh and pointed to it. ‘It’s just a sock.’

‘A sock? Are you sure?’ Laura cautiously lowered her legs so they were dangling over the washing machine.

‘Positive. Look.’ Gingerly picking the sock up, Nicola held it aloft in Laura’s direction. ‘One of the guests must have accidentally got it muddled in with the used towels.’

‘Oh, phew.’ With her feet back on firm ground again, Laura grinned. ‘I can’t believe I thought it was a mouse.’

‘Haha, to be fair, you wouldn’t have expected to see something grey in among the towels, so it was an easy mistake to make.’ Nicola waved the offending item in the air. ‘Shall I just bin it? I doubt anyone’s going to ring up and ask us to post it to them.’

‘That’s true. Yep, the bin it is for that then.’ Laura smiled. ‘I’ll just finish off here. Last night’s guests have already had breakfast and left us.’

‘That’s early.’ After discarding the sock, Nicola washed her hands in the sink in the corner of the utility room.

‘I know, I thought they’d at least spend a bit of time sightseeing, but the Edwards family said they’d visited all the local places yesterday and were now moving on to… I think they said Devon or somewhere. I’m not sure.’ Laura shook her head as she finished stuffing the machine full. ‘And then the Hutchins were on their way to a wedding.’

‘A quiet day until tonight’s guests arrive then.’ Nicola dried her hands before passing Laura the washing powder.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the powder, Laura filled the drawer. ‘Not quite. We’ve got little Brandon’s birthday party at lunchtime and Jill has her village community hub meeting this morning.’ Laura grinned. ‘Meadowfield’s answer to parliament.’

Smiling, Nicola shook her head. ‘It’s nice to be able to be involved with the community again. When I was with Nathan, we just worked. That’s all we seemed to have time for. Now, though, I can actually have a life outside of work. And a job I enjoy.’

Laura stabbed the button, watching the machine whirr to life before walking through to the kitchen. ‘I always wanted to live in a place with lots going on in the community, you know what I mean?’

‘I do. Although Miss Cooke still scares me.’ Nicola grimaced as she followed Laura. ‘When I was growing up, one of my friends dared me to pinch a sweet from the pick ’n’ mix at the grocery store and I honestly thought she’d lynch me when she caught me up as I sprinted home.’

‘Ah, I can sympathise after how she treated me when I first moved into Pennycress.’ Laura poured two coffees. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be fully comfortable with her. Still, being Meadowfield’s mayoress, she does a lot for the village.’

‘She sure does.’ Nicola took the hot mug from Laura’s hand. ‘Thanks.’

Laura glanced at the clock. ‘Talking of which, we’d best down these and set up for their meeting before people start to arrive.’

‘Good plan.’

Gulping down the hot coffee, Nicola smiled. She’d only been working here, at Pennycress, the inn where she’d grown up when her mum had been running it, for a few months now, but it felt right. And it was true, it didn’t feel like a job. Not a job-job anyway. She could see what she was working towards, she could see Laura’s vision for Pennycress, and she loved being a part of it.

2

‘We look forward to seeing you then.’ Hitting the return key to secure the booking, Nicola then placed the phone down. ‘Laura, that was a last-minute booking for this weekend. We’re completely full now.’

Peering out from the kitchen doorway into the large hallway, Laura wiped her hands on the tea towel she was holding. ‘Oh, that’s fab. And then the week after next, we have the Landownes’ wedding party staying.’

‘That’s right.’ Nicola scrolled through the booking screen on the computer. ‘In fact, we’re full to the brim every week and weekend from now until the end of the summer holidays.’

‘Brilliant.’ Laura beamed. ‘It’ll be busy, especially as we’ve got Jill’s meetings here once a week and then a handful of kids’ birthday parties too, but if it means business is going well, then I’m here for it.’

Whenever Laura got that glint in her eyes, the excitement of the inn doing well, the love for the place, it reminded Nicola of how her mum had been when she’d been running Pennycress and it almost brought a tear to her eye when she thought about who could have taken over Pennycress if it hadn’t been for Laura. When the inn had been put on the market last year after her mum’s landlord had decided to sell, her mum had been petrified some generic hotel chain would come and snap it up, refurbish it into a grey box and rip out the heart of the place. But with Laura, Nicola was sure Pennycress Inn would keep the charm the guests loved, and the business would go from strength to strength.

‘You okay?’ Laura’s voice broke into Nicola’s thoughts.

Shaking her head, Nicola smiled. ‘Yes, sorry, I was miles away. Just thinking.’

Laura nodded. ‘Now that can be a dangerous pastime.’

‘Haha, I know.’ Nicola clicked away from the booking screen. ‘It’s all good, though. I was just thinking how quickly you’ve managed to turn this place around since buying it. I mean, the rooms are full for the summer.’

‘Ah, yes. I must admit, I thought it’d take us longer to re-establish the inn after she was closed for all that time, but it’s down to you and your amazing marketing skills.’

‘No, it’s really not.’ Nicola shook her head. Laura could praise her as much as she wanted but the fact stood that it had been Laura who had breathed life back into Pennycress Inn, not her. It had been Laura who had taken on the work of restoring the inn to her former glory after years of repairs had been neglected by the landlord whilst the inn had been let to her mum. And, it had been Laura who had picked up the pieces and put the inn back together, quite literally, after it had stood empty for months whilst on the market, and it meant the world to Nicola to see the inn where she’d grown up thriving once again. ‘Whether I’d been involved in the marketing of Pennycress or not, word gets around, and you’ve created the warm and welcoming atmosphere, making Pennycress Inn somewhere guests want to visit time and time again as well as recommend her to all their friends.’

‘Umm, thanks, but nope.’ Laura crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. ‘If it hadn’t been for you getting her on social media, people wouldn’t have found Pennycress in the first place, or returning guests from when your mum ran her wouldn’t have had a clue we were open again.’

Nicola scrunched up her nose. She always felt awkward when Laura, or anyone else for that matter, complimented her. After working beneath Nathan as an accounts manager for one of their clients for years at Green Acre’s Events Management Services, she’d grown accustomed to just getting on with her job quietly, making sure the cogs were turning in the background, so to speak. He’d never been one to praise her at work and even being thanked by him had been a rare occurrence. Nope, he’d seemed to use the excuse that he didn’t want his other employees thinking he was favouring her because they were engaged, so instead he barely even acknowledged her, unless it was to bark orders at her and the rest of the team. She’d just accepted it, but since finding out about his affair with Kerry, she’d always wondered if she should have spotted the signs that something was going on. Kerry had worked there for three years in total, and Nicola never once remembered him barking orders at her. At the time, she’d just assumed he wanted to keep Kerry sweet and, as she was his personal assistant, at his beck and call, but looking back now Nicola had to wonder if he’d had feelings for her since she began working there.

‘Looks as though Jill and the others are here.’ Laura nodded towards the door as a flash of cerise pink – Miss Cooke’s signature clothing colour of the summer season – could be seen through the stained-glass window of the door.

‘I’ll go and grab the tea things.’ Walking across to the kitchen, Nicola held out her hand for the tea towel Laura was still holding.

‘Leaving me to face Miss Cooke on my own, are you?’ Laura grimaced.

‘You bet!’

Laughing, Nicola pulled her mobile from her back pocket as she entered the kitchen. Quickly scrolling through to her emails, she frowned. Another reminder that the damn pizza oven would be despatched soon. Although it didn’t offer an actual delivery date, so it could still be weeks away. The preorder had taken enough time so she wouldn’t be holding her breath for a quick delivery. Still, at least it would give her the chance to cancel the thing when she had a spare minute or two. She slid her mobile back into her pocket, trying to force any thoughts of Nathan and his much-wanted pizza oven out of her mind and instead focus on the task in hand.

With the teapot full, Nicola loaded the tray with cups, plates and a large Victoria sponge before carrying it through to the living room. Pausing outside the door, she balanced the tray in her arms before pushing the door open. Jill was sitting on one of the large Chesterfield sofas with one of her children laid sprawled across the cushions, her head resting on her mum’s lap, whilst Miss Cooke, Mrs Pierce, the bakery owner, and Rachel, one of Jill’s closest friends, all sat on the sofa opposite.

‘Morning, I’ve brought tea and cake.’ Resting the tray on the coffee table between the sofas, Nicola unloaded the cups, plates and cake and then looked across at Jill’s daughter. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were bringing Willow. Would you like some juice, Willow?’

‘Oh, some juice would be great, please, Nic. Wouldn’t it, Willow?’ Jill brushed her daughter’s hair from her eyes.

The little girl nodded and gripped tighter to the yellow teddy bear she was holding.

‘She’s not feeling too well, are you, sweetie? Although, it’s a shame as she’s missing out on all the fun stuff they do at school in the last week of term.’ Jill glanced across at Nicola and mouthed, ‘Schoolitis.’

Suppressing a smile, Nicola nodded. Her mum had called it that too, whenever she’d insisted on having a day off school for no particular reason besides the fact it was a PE day.

After she’d finished pouring the teas, she set the teapot back on the tray. ‘I’ll grab some nice cool orange juice. That should help.’

Five-year-old Willow squirmed on the sofa and looked up at her mum. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘Do you want some of this cake? Look, there are even fresh strawberries on top.’ Nicola indicated the cake.

Shaking her head, Willow put her thumb in her mouth before pulling it out again and whispering, ‘I don’t like cake.’

‘She doesn’t like cake today, she means.’ Jill laughed and looked down at her daughter. ‘Yesterday, you ate three slices of the chocolate cake I’d baked. Which might actually be adding to why you’re feeling so poorly.’

‘Do you want to come through and see what we’ve got in the kitchen? I’m sure we can find something.’ Straightening her back, Nicola held her hand out for Willow.

‘Okay.’ Jumping up from the sofa, the girl took Nicola’s hand. ‘Mummy, I want you to come too.’

‘Mummy needs to talk about the carnival.’ Jill shook her head as she picked up her notebook from the arm of the chair.

‘No, Mummy, I don’t want to go on my own!’ Stamping her feet, Willow shoved her thumb back in her mouth.

‘Okay, okay. Some battles just aren’t worth having, are they?’ Forcing a smile in Miss Cooke’s direction, Jill followed them through to the kitchen.

‘Right, what would you like, Willow? I can cut you up some apple and banana? Make a little fruit salad for you?’ Nicola held up an apple from the fruit bowl.

Shaking her head, Willow shifted from foot to foot.

Closing the door softly behind her, Jill leaned her head back against it.

‘Is everything okay?’ Nicola raised her eyebrows.

‘Nope, it sure isn’t.’ Looking down, Jill pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I’m so behind with all the carnival planning. What with the kids and keeping on top of the housework a husband and four small children create, plus all the driving around and dropping off and picking up children to and from their chosen clubs, which is a logistical nightmare at the best of times…’

‘I can imagine that must be difficult.’ Nicola herself sometimes found it difficult to keep up with everything and there was just her and Trixie at home. She could imagine how much mess and chaos four young children and a husband would cause. She swallowed. Although, if she was honest, she’d trade places with Jill in a heartbeat. All she’d ever wanted was to have a big family of her own. She’d loved her childhood, living at Pennycress Inn and helping her mum with the business had given her wonderful memories, but she’d often wondered what it would have been like to have had a sibling, and she’d always dreamt of marrying and raising her own family. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen now, not when she was just shy of thirty-six and newly dumped. Thanks, Nathan.

‘I just thought that once the youngest was at nursery, I’d have all this time free. But what with my new gardening business, as well as children being off school all the time…’ She shook her head.

‘Sorry, Mummy.’ Willow wrapped her arms around her mum’s waist.

‘No, no, don’t be sorry, sweetie. I like having you around.’ Leaning down, Jill kissed her daughter on the top of her head. ‘Although today you really should have gone into school, you’re absolutely fine.’

Looking up at her mum, Willow’s face grew serious. ‘I still have bellyache, Mummy.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Sighing, Jill turned back to Nicola. ‘This time last year, I’d have been finished with most of the organising. We’d just be ironing out a few creases. But this year I still have a list as long as my arm – no, as long as both my arms, quite literally, to work my way through. Of course, if the other members of the community hub took the commitment seriously, instead of ducking out of meetings for the smallest reason or booking holidays when they know we’ll be busy…’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ She hated seeing her friend look so frazzled. Jill was normally the calm and collected one of the two of them so to see her getting flustered meant that she really did have too much on her plate. The least Nicola could do was to offer to help.

‘No, it’s fine.’ Jill shook her head. ‘You’ve got your job here, plus after Nathan… No, I’ll get it done.’

‘Hey, now me and Nathan are over, it means I have more free time.’ Nicola pasted a smile on her face. She didn’t really have more time. She’d had plenty of free time whilst Nathan had been off wining and dining his mistress. ‘Let me help.’

‘Are you super sure?’ Jill tilted her head, a hopeful expression on her face.

‘Of course I am. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Besides, it would be good to have something to focus on outside of work.’ Anything to keep her from spending every weekend sitting in front of the TV watching reruns of Friends. Which she loved, but as her mum kept saying, she really should try to find something to do outside of the home, to socialise and begin to rebuild her life.

‘Okay, thank you.’ Instantly relaxing, Jill placed her hand on Nicola’s arm. ‘I mean that.’

‘No problem. Just tell me what I need to do.’

‘Well, is there any way you could contact the farms and double-check they’re happy to provide their tractors and trailers for the floats again this year, please? They do so every year, but I don’t want to just take them for granted.’

‘Yes, of course. I can speak to them after work.’ Nicola grinned. It would be good to catch up with the local farmers and their families. Having grown up in the village, she knew most of them from her childhood, either playing with their children, visiting farmers’ markets with her mum or simply seeing them around Meadowfield. ‘Right, what would you like to eat, Willow?’

The little girl glanced around the kitchen. ‘Can I have some of the cake, please?’

Laughing, Nicola nodded. ‘Of course you can. Shall we go back through, and I’ll get you some?’

Willow nodded before leading the way through to the sitting room.

‘She changes her mind about what she does or doesn’t like every three seconds, it seems. Dinners are a nightmare.’ Jill chuckled. ‘I’ll get the list of farmers for you.’

‘Thanks.’

Back in the sitting room, Nicola began cutting up and serving the Victoria sponge, making sure to cut a smaller slice for Willow.

Sitting back down, Jill flicked through her notebook before looking around the group. ‘Nic has offered to give us a hand and check we can still borrow the tractors and trailers.’

‘Already done.’ Taking her plate of cake, Miss Cooke settled back against the sofa cushions.

‘Oh, really? You’ve checked already?’ Jill slowly closed her notebook.

‘I have. I thought it was getting a little late in the day, so I thought I’d give you a little head start.’ Miss Cooke took a bite of her cake, crumbs dropping from her mouth and landing in the creases of her cerise shirt.

‘Right, yes.’ Jill shifted position on the sofa. ‘I know I’ve been a little lax with the planning this year…’

‘It’s not a criticism, dear. I just didn’t want us to end up having to cancel the carnival. It is only four weeks away now.’ Miss Cooke brushed the crumbs from her shirt to her lap.

‘Yes, of course.’ A pale shade of pink coloured Jill’s cheeks.

Nicola passed Willow her plate. ‘Here you go.’

‘Thank you, Auntie Nic.’ Taking the plate, Willow rested it on her knees before taking a big gulp of orange juice.

Looking from Jill to Miss Cooke and back again, Nicola could sense the tension hanging between them. Jill had been planning the carnival for over ten years now, since taking over from Paddy, who had decided to stop heading the community hub when he’d retired from running Meadowfield’s Post Office. It was her pride and joy, so Nicola could just imagine how Jill must be feeling to have Miss Cooke sweep in and ‘help’ before she’d asked her to. Yes, as Meadowfield’s mayor and resident busybody, Miss Cooke had always ‘helped’ or, more truthfully, interfered in all aspects of village life, but since announcing the beginning of her retirement and cutting her hours at the grocery store, it seemed she had more time on her hands and poor Jill was suffering the brunt of it. ‘That’s one thing off the list, then. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’ Nicola asked.

Jill blinked before picking up her notebook again. ‘Umm… let me just see.’

‘The only farm I didn’t get around to visiting was Little Mead Farm at the edge of the village. I tried to call the farm too, but there was no answer.’ Seemingly oblivious to Jill’s discomfort, Miss Cooke continued. ‘Do you know it, Nicola? Over the little bridge? On the right?’

‘Yes, I know the one. We used to go scrumping for apples there, didn’t we?’ She smiled towards Jill and Rachel, both of whom had grown up in Meadowfield alongside Nicola. ‘I’d be happy to go.’

‘That’s right. And then we’d bring them back here and your mum would help us make apple crumble.’ Rachel grinned.

‘I remember.’ Jill nodded and turned to Nicola. ‘That would be great, thanks, Nic.’

‘And the Watsons’ farm. Thomas and Sheila were out when I popped by and he never answers his phone.’ Miss Cooke raised her eyebrows as if such a thing was unheard of.

‘No problem.’ Picking up the teapot, Nicola left them to continue their meeting.

3

Bumping her Fiat into the driveway of Little Mead Farm, Nicola pulled the handbrake up and turned off the ignition. She’d already visited the Watsons: Sheila and Thomas Watson had been only too happy to agree to lend Meadowfield the use of their two tractors and trailers and they’d even offered to help decorate the trailers if they had a spare few minutes.

She checked her watch. Trixie would be demanding her dinner right about now. Nicola always wondered how a cat could read a clock, but if any evidence was needed to prove they could, it would be Trixie’s impeccable timekeeping skills. She began to meow and fuss for breakfast, dinner and her evening treat at exactly six thirty each day, down to the second. Still, Farmer Williams had always been the kindest of the local farmers, the one who had always turned a blind eye to their scrumping and playing amongst the hay bales during harvest. He’d even taught her and Jill how to ride his pony one summer. So she was sure there would be no problem with him lending them the tractors and trailers, meaning poor starving Trixie wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

Nicola smiled. It would be nice to catch up with him. Whilst working under Nathan, she’d not had the time to keep in touch with many people. Yes, they’d lived in their cottage on the outskirts of Meadowfield, but she’d spent most of her time at work, shackled to her desk in a bid to try to prove to everyone else at the firm that she wasn’t just there because she was in a relationship with the boss, that she could in fact do her job and do it well, at that.

Giving a hollow laugh, she shook her head. She’d spent more time at the office than he had himself. No wonder, as he’d had to split his time between her and Kerry for the last two years. Now that must have been a task in itself, sharing his time and keeping track of the lies he was spinning to her.

Sighing, she swung the car door open and took a deep breath, the warm evening air laced with the smell of hay and fertiliser bringing memories of long, evening bike rides with Jill and her other friends to the forefront of her mind. Nathan was in her past now and she was rebuilding her life. She needed to remember to focus on the future.

Yes, she had a lot to look forward to. She loved working with Laura at Pennycress Inn and the hours, although long, weren’t as crazy as when she worked for Nathan, so she had more time to spend with her mum and with her social circle. Life was good.

After walking up to the old gate to the farmyard, Nicola leaned her elbows on the top rung and called out, ‘Farmer Williams! Are you about?’ Looking across to the huge barn to her left, she tilted her head and listened. She was sure she’d heard something. Maybe he was in there?

Pulling up the latch of the gate, she creaked it open, careful to shut it behind her quickly as a flock of hens hurried towards her, busying themselves around her ankles, pecking at the slabs beneath their feet in the hopes of finding some forgotten corn.

‘Farmer Williams?’ She felt daft calling out the name she’d always called him as a child, but even now, she wasn’t sure of his first name. ‘Farmer Williams, are you here?’

Another thud sounded from inside the barn. This time, it was followed by a loud scraping noise. He must be in there.

Heading to the large barn, she paused outside the door and shouted for him again. She didn’t want him to think she was still like her thirteen-year-old self, who he’d caught scrumping apples from his orchard. In that moment, all thoughts of him ringing the police and having her, Jill and the other people they were with hauled into the back of a police car had terrified her. As it turned out, he’d been more than happy to let them while away the summer holidays in the orchard and take apples home. His only stipulation had been that her mum made him an apple crumble every so often, which she’d been more than happy to oblige with.

Just as she was about to open the door, Nicola was thrown back as it swung towards her, almost knocking her off her feet. Regaining her balance, she watched as a sheep raced across the yard; the hens scurrying in all directions to avoid the fluffy animal.

‘That’s it, you scram, and good riddance,’ a voice growled from inside.

Nicola watched as the sheep, suitably startled, shoved her head through the metal bars of the gate, obviously trying to escape. Stepping forward, gingerly this time, she peered inside the dimly lit barn. ‘Farmer Williams?’

‘What?’ The gruff voice belonged to a tall, muscular man wearing jeans and a white vest covered in more hay than was strewn on the barn floor.

‘Oh, er, I was looking for Farmer Williams. Sorry, I didn’t mean to let your sheep escape. I’ll go and fetch her.’ She indicated behind her.

‘Don’t bother. It’s not mine. The damn thing keeps eating my hay.’ He placed his hands on his hips and scowled in the direction the sheep had run. ‘If I get my hands on the thing, I can assure you it’d make a good addition to my Sunday roast.’

‘Oh.’ Nicola looked around the huge barn, which was crammed to the roof with hay bales. Surely one little sheep wouldn’t make a dent in the amount here. ‘Why don’t you just catch it and put it back with your other sheep?’

‘Because this is a damn agricultural farm, not a sheep farm.’ He shook his head at her, as though the fact was obvious.

‘Right, of course.’ She should have known. The orchard, the fields around the farmhouse. Apart from the hens in the yard, there were no other animals visible.

‘So?’ Shifting his feet, he crossed his arms as he glared at her.

‘So, what?’ She frowned. What did he want her to do? Run after the sheep? It must be Claudette, the stray sheep which had been running amok in the village and causing all sorts of strife for the past few months.

‘Why are you here?’ He did little to hide his annoyance at her presence.

‘I’m looking for Farmer Williams,’ she repeated, glancing around as though she half-expected him to pop up from behind a bale of hay and save her from this hostile worker of his.

‘That’s me. What do you want?’

‘You? Umm, no. I mean Farmer Williams.’ She emphasised the name as if he’d misheard her.

‘Yes, I am Farmer Williams.’ He too emphasised the name with none of the warmth or good humour of the Farmer Williams Nicola knew.

‘No, you’re not. He’s older than you.’ She blurted out the words before she’d had a chance to think them through. But who was this man and why was he playing games with her? She didn’t have all evening to stand around being at the receiving end of some prank. She had Trixie to feed and a good book to curl up with back home. Not to mention the mac ’n’ cheese ready meal for one waiting for her in the fridge.

Shaking his head, he held up his hands, his palms forward, and began backing away. ‘Fine. If you’ve just come here to waste my time, then please leave. I’ve got enough to do without some salesperson trying to sign me up for the latest copy of Farmer’s Weekly or some rubbish.’

‘What? No, wait.’ Stepping forward, she stopped short as he glared at her. Maybe he was getting confused. She had said Farmer Williams and not just someone who worked for him, hadn’t she? ‘Sorry, I mean, you’re not who I’m looking for. I wanted to speak to Farmer Williams. The actual Farmer Williams. Blue flat cap, a piece of hay dangling from his mouth… The man who owns this farm.’

‘That Farmer Williams is dead. He passed away five months ago.’ A look of sadness passed across his face for a split second before his expression reverted back again.

Nicola blinked. He’d uttered the words so nonchalantly, she couldn’t be sure she’d heard them correctly. Farmer Williams had passed away? Surely she’d have heard if he had? Her mum would have mentioned it, she would have attended the funeral. ‘No, he can’t be.’

Sighing loudly, the man in front of her rolled his eyes. ‘I can assure you he is, and now I own this place, so you can either spit out the reason you’re here or get off my land and let me get on with what needs doing.’

‘I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’ And she suddenly realised why: Nathan. He’d been the reason she hadn’t known. Five months ago, she’d been in the process of chucking his stuff out on the front lawn after discovering him and his mistress sharing a romantic meal at her kitchen table. No wonder her mum hadn’t mentioned it. She wouldn’t have wanted to add to what Nicola was going through. Guilt rose from the pit of her stomach. She had fond memories of Farmer Williams and she’d have liked to have had the opportunity to pay her respects. Not that she didn’t understand why her mum hadn’t told her. She did. Looking at him, she could see a little resemblance, the way his lips curled at the edges, although with Farmer Williams – the proper Farmer Williams – his lips had always been curled up in a permanent half-smile, whereas it seemed with the man in front of her his were permanently curled downwards in some sort of half-scowl. She crossed her arms. Had Miss Cooke knowingly missed visiting Little Mead Farm? Had she known what sort of reception would be lying in wait? Quite possibly. ‘I didn’t know he had a son.’

‘He didn’t. I’m a nephew.’

‘Right.’ That made more sense. She’d struggled to understand how someone so closely related to the jolly Farmer Williams of her childhood could appear so angry towards her now.

‘Sorry to disappoint you. See yourself out.’ Turning, he began walking towards the back of the barn.

‘No! Please wait.’ Hurrying behind him, she skirted around a large stack of hay bales, her cardigan catching on the hay as she passed. She watched as he paused and turned back to her.

‘Yes?’

‘Sorry, I…’ She pulled a stalk of hay from the pale blue wool of her cardigan. ‘I’m here to ask you something. It’s the village carnival in four weeks and Farmer Williams… your uncle, he always lent us a couple of tractors and trailers to be used as a float.’

‘No.’

‘Umm…’ Nicola stumbled at his bluntness and wound the stalk of hay around her finger, giving herself a moment to think. ‘I’ve not asked you anything yet.’

‘But you’re going to. You’re going to ask me to continue his legacy and lend you the tractors and trailers again.’ He crossed his arms again. ‘And the answer remains a no.’

Was he really not going to let her speak? Let her explain? Did he not care what his uncle would have wanted? Surely the least he could do was listen to what she had to say instead of standing there and talking over her as he was? ‘But… it was his legacy. He was involved in the carnival right from when it began. In fact, I’m pretty sure he was one of the first villagers who began the tradition. He used to say that lending tractors and trailers and helping out was his way of giving back to the community.’

‘I have no reason to give anything back. I don’t sell to the villagers; I sell the hay to the other farms and the vegetables to the grocery stores. And this isn’t my community.’ Widening his stance as though to prove he wasn’t about to back down on his decision, his tone grew deeper.

‘Of course it is!’ Why on earth wouldn’t he want to help? Why wouldn’t he want to continue the good work of his uncle? She didn’t understand. Nicola wracked her mind, trying to think of a way to convince him. She couldn’t let Jill down. They needed his tractors and trailers or they’d be two floats down – and two floats in a total of twelve was a lot. There had to be a way to persuade him. ‘Please, we just need to borrow them. The trailers for a couple of weeks…’

Lifting his eyes heavenwards, he grunted.

‘Okay, not a couple of weeks. No, one week at most. We can make everything and assemble it in a day or two even. And the tractors just for a few hours.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. He had to have an ounce of his uncle’s compassion. He had to.

‘You’re asking me to lend you four pieces of equipment that are integral to harvest my crops, during one of the busiest times of the year for a farmer. And what? That’s it? You can drive a tractor, can you?’ Looking at her, he scoffed. ‘Or are you also asking me to lend you two farmhands to drive the things too?’

‘Well, yes, but not for long and we’ll return them just as we find them.’ Please say yes.

‘My workers too?’ A quick flash of humour was soon replaced with annoyance. ‘The answer is no. Find yourself some other mug.’

‘But please, it’ll be free advertising for you…’ She let her voice trail off as he tutted, holding his hand up as if dismissing her before vanishing behind a stack of hay bales.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. She’d had one job. One job! And she’d failed.

4

Looking up from the computer on the reception desk, Nicola smiled as Laura closed the front door after waving off two of their guests. ‘They were such a lovely couple.’

‘I know. So sweet together and still so much in love, even after forty years.’ Walking across to the reception desk, Laura leaned her elbows on the dark oak wood and grinned.

‘Did they tell you where they went for their celebration meal?’

‘Yep, fish and chips from the local chippie and a walk along the river.’ Laura pulled a pen from the pot by the computer and began fiddling with it. ‘Apparently they couldn’t afford a huge wedding or reception, so they got married at the registry office in Stratford-upon-Avon before coming back to Meadowfield, where they used to live, and grabbing chips and going on their favourite walk.’

‘Aw, that does sound romantic. The registry office at Stratford-upon-Avon is beautiful. All beams and lots of light.’ Nicola glanced down at the computer screen, where she’d been updating the social media pages for Pennycress. She and Nathan had looked around the registry office a few months before they’d broken up. Whilst he’d been having his affair behind her back.

‘It sure does, doesn’t it?’ Laura looked across at her. ‘I know it sounds soppy, but I do hope me and Jackson can celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary together.’

‘You’ve got to get married first! Have you given any thought to the wedding?’ Nicola laughed. Laura and Jackson may have only been a couple for a few months, but they already acted as though they’d been married for decades – minus the wedding of course. Maybe it was the fact Jackson had been Laura’s older brother’s best friend and so she’d known him for years or maybe they were just really well suited but ever since Laura had moved into Pennycress and discovered Jackson living next door, their relationship had gone from strength to strength. Yes, from what Laura had told her there had been more than a few up and downs before they’d finally been honest about their true feelings towards each other, but now they were together and already planning their wedding.

Laura scrunched up her nose. ‘You know better than to ask that! You’ve seen all the wedding magazines coming through the post.’

‘Haha, I know. You must have signed up to at least ten different magazine subscriptions.’ Not that she blamed her, she’d been the same when she’d been planning her and Nathan’s wedding.

‘Six. So not that bad.’ Laura’s eyes lit up as she spoke. ‘We’ve got so many ideas, though. There’s just such a huge choice out there. I mean, we could get married at some country manor, a castle, a barn in the middle of a field, or even elope to Iceland or Gretna Green or somewhere. The choice is endless. How’s anyone supposed to decide?’

Nicola shrugged. She wasn’t even going to think about the wedding she’d planned in her mind, her and Nathan’s wedding. She hit the return key and watched as a photo of Pennycress’ garden uploaded. She’d been so good at pushing him out of her mind until that reminder about the pizza oven delivery had come. Which she still hadn’t got around to cancelling. Tearing a page from her notebook, she scrawled a note on it to do it at lunchtime. ‘I don’t know. I guess you might find you’re just drawn to a certain venue.’

‘True. I hope so anyway or else all we’ll be talking about for the next forty years is what kind of wedding to have instead of actually getting married.’ Straightening her back, Laura took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I really should go and get the bedrooms cleaned.’

‘Oh, is Jill in today?’

‘Yep. She’s out the back, planting something or other,’ Laura laughed. ‘I must admit, I just let her get on with the gardens. I trust her skills and knowledge more than my own. I’d be completely lost if Jill hadn’t decided to start her own gardening business just in time to work her magic on Pennycress’ gardens.’

‘Okay, thanks. I’ll pop out and see her.’ Nicola frowned. She’d rather been hoping Jill wasn’t coming in today. It would have given her a bit more time to think how she could break the news that the carnival would be two floats down.

‘Is everything okay?’ Laura asked.

‘Yes. No. I offered to help with the carnival planning because Jill has so much on her plate already and she gave me one job and I managed to fail at it.’

‘Oh, what was it?’

‘I only had to confirm that we could still borrow two tractors and trailers from Little Mead Farm, and I managed to mess that up.’ Nicola tucked her hair behind her ears. It hadn’t been her fault she hadn’t been able to secure the floats. It had been the new farmer’s fault for being so grumpy and unsupportive towards his local community, but it didn’t stop her from feeling as though she was letting the whole village down.

‘Ah, I overheard some talk about the new farmer in the grocery store the other day.’ Laura grimaced. ‘He doesn’t sound particularly friendly.’

‘No, he’s not.’ Nicola raised her eyebrows. She’d bet her last ten-pound note on who Laura had overheard talking about him. ‘I don’t suppose it was Miss Cooke who you heard talking about him, was it?’

‘Yes, her and Paddy, the old postmaster. I didn’t hear much, but from what I did, I got the distinct impression it was a visit-at-your-own-risk situation.’

‘Hmm. That explains why she’d contacted all the other farms to check they were still lending their tractors and trailers and yet had conveniently run out of time to pop into Little Mead Farm.’ Nicola made air quotes around the words ‘run out of time’.

‘And she left you to wander up there, without warning you in advance of the welcome you might receive.’ Laura shook her head.

‘Yep, she sure did. I suppose she couldn’t very well risk having to report back to the community hub that she, Meadowfield’s own mayoress, had been refused the loan of our new resident’s tractors and trailers.’ Nicola grimaced. She’d had a feeling there must have been a reason why Miss Cooke hadn’t finished the task she’d begun.

‘There must be another farm local-ish you can ask?’

‘Maybe. Jill will probably have more of an idea. After all, she’s been organising the carnival for over ten years.’

‘I don’t know how she does it. She always appears so serene and calm and yet she’s spinning that many different plates, she must be constantly busy.’ Laura replaced the pen in the pot.

‘She’s always been like that. Even in school, she’d volunteer for anything going and still achieve the highest grades of the year group in any test we took.’ Nicola smiled. She’d known Jill so long now and yet she’d never figured out how she managed everything she did, which was why she’d offered to help. Seeing Jill stressed was unusual and meant she really did need a bit of help.

‘Wish I was like that. I’d get so much done. Talking of which, I really best get on.’ Laura nodded in the general direction of the back garden. ‘I’m sure she’ll have a plan B. She’ll know of someone else to ask.’

‘Yes.’ Nodding, Nicola shut down the computer. She might as well go and speak to Jill now. That way, she could start ringing around other farms during her lunch break.

* * *

With a steaming mug of coffee in her hand, Nicola stepped out onto the decking which surrounded half of the inn and blinked against the bright sunlight before shielding her eyes with her hand and looking around the garden. There was Jill, pruning some plant or other at the back of the garden. Pennycress was the first, and so far only, regular job Jill had taken up since starting her gardening business a few months ago and Nicola was sure she spent far longer here than she was contracted for. Between planning the carnival and other events for the community hub, volunteering at Meadowfield’s children’s choir and caring for her own four children, Nicola didn’t know how Jill managed it all.

Walking down the steps, Nicola pulled her mobile from her back pocket and smiled. It was a text from her mum telling her she’d pop in to see Trixie and leave some dinner in the fridge for this evening. Nicola knew how lucky she was to have a mum like hers. Someone who was always there for her, someone who thought nothing of making extra dinner and surprising her with it. She didn’t know how she’d have got through the last few months without her mum. She probably wouldn’t have, not without turning into a teary mess every second of every day.

‘Hey, Nic.’ Spotting her walking towards her, Jill stood up and waved, secateurs still in hand. ‘Is that for me?’

‘It certainly is.’ Nicola passed across the coffee before shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

‘Thank you.’ After taking a sip of the fresh coffee, Jill lowered the mug and sighed. ‘Just what I needed. Willow was up most of last night, trying to convince me she couldn’t possibly go back to school today because her toe hurt, her nose was running or… I can’t even remember what the other excuses she came up with were.’

‘Is she better today? After yesterday’s bellyache?’

‘She’s fine. There was nothing wrong with her yesterday. She’s just a good little actress.’

‘Haha, I bet she keeps you and Gerald on your toes then!’

‘She absolutely does! I’ve already told him he’s going to have to take over disciplining her when she’s a teenager. She runs rings around me already. I can’t imagine what excuses she’ll conjure up for skipping school when she’s in her teens.’ Jill laughed. ‘How did you get on at Little Mead Farm and the Watsons’ place yesterday?’

‘Ah, that’s why I’ve come out here.’ Nicola grimaced.

Jill lifted her coffee. ‘Was this to butter me up before telling me the new farmer’s too busy to spare anyone to drive the tractors or something? I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone who’s got tractor driving experience. Didn’t Neil Parsons from the hardware store used to help out on one of the other farms? Years ago, I mean, but tractors are still tractors, aren’t they? I bet he’d be able to step in.’

‘It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. He’s not lending us the tractors or the trailers. Any of them.’ She watched as Jill’s face dropped, a deep line creasing across her forehead. ‘I’m sorry. I tried. I really did.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Bending down, she dropped the secateurs to the grass before reaching out and placing her garden-gloved hand on Nicola’s forearm. ‘I know you would have tried your best.’

Nicola shrugged. ‘He just wasn’t budging at all. He didn’t even want to hear me out.’

‘What’s he like then? I just assumed he’d be as lovely as old Farmer Williams was.’

‘He’s nothing like old Farmer Williams. Not at all.’ She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image of him in his jeans and white vest showing off his muscles. He could have been the most gorgeous man on the planet, and his distinct lack of kindness would have put her off. Anyone off. ‘He just flat refused. Didn’t even want to listen to me.’

‘Really?’ Jill sighed. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do then. The other local farmers have offered us all the tractors and trailers they’ve got. We’ve really got no one else to ask. And if we don’t find another two trailers and tractors, that means two of Meadowfield’s clubs won’t be able to join in. How are we ever going to choose who can or can’t join in with the carnival?’

‘How about we ring and see if any farms from further afield could help us?’ Nicola shifted from foot to foot. There must be someone else. The Cotswolds had farms in abundance.

‘Yes, maybe, but…’ Jill shook her head. ‘It’s just that old Farmer Williams loved the carnival, and it’s so sad that whoever’s taken over his farm isn’t going to carry on his legacy. Especially as he was part of the group who began the tradition in the first place.’

‘I know, but if he’s not going to help, there’s not much else we can do. It’s his nephew, by the way, who’s taken over the farm.’

‘His nephew? I did wonder what had happened because he didn’t have any children of his own, did he? That makes sense though. Little Mead has been in the Williams family for generations.’

Nicola shook her head. ‘Unfortunately, I think the only thing he has in common with his uncle is the surname.’

‘Hmm.’ Jill took another sip of coffee before pursing her lips. ‘I’ll go and speak to him. Although I won’t get over there until the weekend now, what with the kids’ activities.’

‘Okay. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.’ Hopefully Jill would have more luck at Little Mead. After all, Jill had always had the knack of being able to brighten someone’s day. She just hoped the new farmer wouldn’t be immune to her charms.

‘No, don’t be. It’s really not your fault.’ Jill slapped her forehead. ‘Oh no, I can’t go and see him this weekend. I forgot; we’re going down to Gerald’s parents on Friday night and staying until late Sunday.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll go again. See if I can get him to change his mind.’ Nicola bit down on her bottom lip. Why had she just said that? Why had she offered to go back for Round Two with the grumpiest farmer she’d ever had the misfortune to meet?

‘Really?’ Jill beamed, the creases across her forehead disappearing. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’

‘Not at all,’ Nicola lied. If she came face to face with the young Farmer Williams in ten years’ time, it would be too soon, but she couldn’t let her friend down now. She had to at least try to make him see sense. ‘I’ll pop in after work. See what I can do.’ She held her hand out for Jill’s empty mug.

‘Thank you. I really, really appreciate it.’ She passed her mug across. ‘I’ll look out some photos of his uncle at the carnivals. Maybe he’ll have a change of heart if he sees how involved he was.’

‘Maybe.’ Nicola nodded. She didn’t want to tell Jill that the man seemed thoroughly incapable of having a change of heart. If indeed he had a heart at all, after the way he’d frightened away poor Claudette the sheep. ‘Anyway, I’ll let you know how I get on.’

‘Thanks, Nic.’ Jill smiled before kneeling back down and continuing with what she’d been doing beforehand.

Nicola gripped the mug as she walked back up the garden. What had she got herself into? There was no way she could get the answer that Jill was hoping for, but Jill was right. Yes, they could beg another farmer to loan them the tractors and trailers, but the Meadowfield carnival wouldn’t even exist if it hadn’t been for the original Farmer Williams.

She shook her head. She really did need to start referring to him as something other than Farmer Williams, that was just tarnishing the name of the kind and generous farmer from her childhood. Farmer Grumpy seemed the obvious choice, but knowing her luck, she’d end up calling him that to his face and then there’d be no backtracking from that.

5

‘Hi, Mum.’ Nicola adjusted her grip on her mobile she was holding against her ear as she walked the short route through Meadowfield from Pennycress Inn to her own little cottage.

‘Hello, love. How was work?’ Her mum Vivienne’s voice drifted down the phone line full of warmth and kindness.

‘Good, thanks. We’re fully booked for the rest of the summer now.’

‘Oh, I’m so pleased to hear that. You’ve done wonders with the marketing. Laura was singing your praises only last week when I saw her in the pub practising for the upcoming darts competition.’

Nicola pulled her handbag higher up on her shoulder. ‘That’s lovely of her, but, honestly, I think it’s just that I know the inn so well.’

Her mum chuckled. ‘And so you should after being brought up there.’

‘Exactly. It’s so great being back. I almost feel as though I’ve never been away.’ Nicola grinned. With just her and Laura working at the inn full time and Laura’s fiancé, Jackson, part-time chef and, of course, Jill gardening, it felt more like a small family-run business than anything else. Just as it always had been when her mum had run the inn. She’d never known her dad, so it had always been her and her mum living at the inn, but her mum had coped with help from a couple of other women from the village who had had part-time jobs there over the years.

‘I bet. Oh, before I forget, when I popped by to drop off your dinner, I got Trixie’s treats out to give her one and the little rascal knocked my hand, causing me to drop the packet. So if she doesn’t eat her dinner, it’ll be because she’s filled up with the spilt treats.’

‘That sounds like one of her little ploys to get more than she should! Thank…’ Nicola rounded the corner onto her street, The Twistle, and paused. A large tow truck dominated the narrow street, its warning lights flashing despite the still-brilliant sunshine, but more to the point it was her car, her little Fiat, which was being dragged up onto the back of the truck.

‘Nicola? Are you still there, love?’

‘Uh-huh, sorry, Mum. I’m going to have to ring you back.’ Quickly ending the call, she shoved her phone into her bag and began running towards the tow truck as the driver secured her car. Coming to a stop by the side of the truck, she reached out and placed her palm on the side of her car. ‘Excuse me, this is my car. What are you doing?’

Straightening his back, the man turned to her before walking past her and retrieving a clipboard from the cab of the truck. He tapped a pen against the attached paperwork. ‘I’ve got a Mr Nathan Briggs down as the owner.’

‘Nathan? No, it’s my car. Not his.’

‘I’m afraid I’m just doing my job.’ The man shook his head sympathetically.

But, no… It was Nathan’s car on paper. He was even the main keeper on the insurance too, but it was hers. They’d had an agreement – she’d pay off his debts, and he’d get finance on a car for her. He’d said it made sense that he’d be saving money by not paying interest on his debt, but he’d still be repaying her through the car payments. ‘Why are you taking it?’

‘Mr Briggs has defaulted on the payments. The finance company is recalling it.’ The man chucked the clipboard back onto the driver’s seat of the cab and finished securing her Fiat to the back of the tow truck.

‘Can I… Is there anything I can do to stop you taking it?’ She fixed her eyes on her car. She needed it. She needed her car to take her mum to her doctor’s appointments, to go to the retail parks, to… everything. She could walk to work, but apart from that, she needed it for everything else.

‘You’ll have to take it up with the finance company. That’s the only advice I have.’ Having secured the car, he jumped in the cab and pulled the door closed.

No, no, no. She couldn’t just let him drive off. There must be something she could say or do to stop him. She tapped on his window with a little more force than she’d intended.

As he wound the window down, he sighed. ‘Yes?’

‘What if I pay this month’s missed payment? Will you leave it then?’ Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her purse and begun riffling through her cards. She probably had the money on her credit card.

‘Like I said, miss. You’ll have to take it up with the finance company. Mr Briggs has had plenty of time to rectify the situation.’

As he began winding the window back up, she tapped again. ‘How much notice was he given? He would have told me if he knew the car would be repossessed.’

‘He would have had a pretty good idea that after four months of not paying this would be the result. Good luck, miss.’ And with that, he drove off, leaving Nicola standing in the middle of the road, her handbag hanging from her elbow with her purse in one hand and a bunch of cards in the other.

Four months? The man had either been mistaken or it was an admin error. Yes, an admin error. That’s what it would have been.

Nicola walked towards her cottage, pulling her mobile from her bag as she did so. Closing the front door behind her, she dropped her purse and cards onto the narrow table beneath the porch window and hit the Call button. Pick up, Nathan.

‘Hello, Nicola?’

Hearing Nathan’s voice for the first time in five months, when she’d chucked him out, took the wind out of her and it took a moment for her to come to her senses. ‘Nathan, the car’s been taken away. There’s been an admin error which says you’ve not paid for four months. Can you ring the finance company and sort this out, please?’

‘Well, I…’

‘Please, Nathan. I need that car. You know I do, just ring them. I’m sure it won’t take long to sort it all out. Just explain it’s been taken and ask them to return it. If you’re quick, they might be able to instruct the tow truck driver to turn round and drop it straight back off.’

Silence.

‘Nathan? Can you ring them, please?’

‘There’s no point in me ringing them.’

‘Well, I can’t, can I? It’s your name on the contract, they won’t discuss any of it with me. It has to be you.’ It was just one phone call. That was all she was asking for. One call.

‘Nicola, listen. I meant to contact you and warn you. I should have done.’

‘Warn me about what? You knew this was going to happen? You knew there had been a mistake, and you didn’t think to rectify it?’ She could feel a surge of anger stirring in the pit of her stomach. If he’d just bothered to take a couple of minutes out of his perfect life with his perfect mistress to ring them, then all of this could have been avoided. Had he really just flicked a switch and stopped caring about her? After all the years they’d spent together, he really just couldn’t give her a minute’s time?

‘It’s not a mistake, Nicola.’ Nathan’s voice was quiet, guarded.

What was he saying? Was he actually saying what she thought he was? ‘What do you mean, not a mistake?’

‘Just that. I stopped the payments. Of course the car was going to get repossessed.’

‘You stopped making the payments?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes?’ She shook her head. ‘Why? Why would you have stopped paying?’

‘Because it’s not my car.’ Nathan threw that comment in with as much indifference as if he was answering whether he fancied chocolate fudge or lemon drizzle cake for dessert.

She gripped her phone tighter, fisting her free hand. ‘I know it’s not your car. It’s mine, but you were paying it off. We had an agreement.’

‘Well, Kerry said…’ Nathan cleared his throat, his voice stronger this time. ‘Kerry said, being as it’s in my name, I can choose to default on the payments. It has nothing to do with you.’

‘Nothing to do with me?’ And Kerry? Kerry said? What? Would he jump off a cliff if the perfect Kerry told him to? ‘It has everything to do with me! It’s my car!’

‘That I’ve been paying for.’ Nathan’s voice was dry. A familiar tone she remembered from past arguments. One he usually saved just for her when he was trying to explain his point of view, however wrong it might be.

‘You’ve been paying back the money I used to pay off your loan!’ She could hear the shrillness in her voice, but she didn’t care any longer. If she had her way, she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. In fact, she’d been pretty happy not having him in her life these past five months. It had been an adjustment, and she was still grieving for what she’d lost – or, more aptly, what her and Nathan’s relationship should have stood for: love, security, having each other’s backs. She’d been grieving for the very idea of a relationship, but looking back, she knew she’d never had it with him in the first place. She’d just been a stopgap. Someone to fill in the time before someone better came along. And they had. Kerry had come along, and he’d jumped.

‘That was years ago, Nic. Things change.’

She clenched her fist tighter, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm. He had lost every right to call her by her nickname. ‘Yes, things change, but our agreement still stands. You haven’t paid it all back yet. You were supposed to be paying me back through financing the car. You had no right to stop.’

‘Nic…’

‘Don’t call me that.’ Her voice came out in a harsh whisper.

‘Sorry, Nicola…’ She could almost picture his condescending face as he spoke. ‘Yes, we had an agreement, but that was one we made when we were together. We’re not together anymore.’

Taking a sharp breath in, Nicola tried her best not to shout down the phone. ‘Of course, we’re not together anymore. I caught you cheating! Do you think I don’t know we’re not together? But the fact still stands that you owe me money. If you’re not going to carry on paying for my car in order to repay me, then you’ll just have to give me the rest now so I can buy a little run-around.’

‘I won’t be doing that.’ His voice was so quiet, Nicola had to strain to hear him.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I won’t be paying you the rest. I simply can’t afford it.’

‘You won’t…? You’ve got to pay me. You owe me! I paid that stupid debt of yours off! What? Do you think you can just walk away and not repay me?’

‘It’s not what I want, but I simply can’t. I don’t have the money, Nic. Sorry, Nicola. I just don’t have it.’ His voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into his tone.

‘Sure you do. You’ve got your wage coming in – and I know how much you earn, by the way – and you’ve got your…’ She caught herself just in time and swallowed her words before continuing. ‘You’ve got Kerry’s wage coming in, too. You’ve got the money. And besides, you owe me!’

‘Kerry says it wouldn’t stand up in court. Our circumstances have dramatically changed.’

Kerry says. Of course, Kerry would say. If he wasn’t paying her back, then she had more money for the holidays he was always bragging about on social media.

‘We had an agreement.’

‘Look, what’s done is done. You chose to pay off my debt and I’m choosing to stop paying for your car.’ His voice was cold, all uncertainty replaced by defiance.

‘Nathan…’ Her voice was shaking. She could hear it. She took another deep breath in, trying to compose herself before she could attempt to talk some sense into him. Opening her mouth to speak, she stopped as she heard a woman’s voice in the background on Nathan’s end. Kerry. She was there. Nathan was essentially her puppet.

‘I’ve got to go. I’m sorry, but my decision has been made.’

‘But…’

Too late. The line was dead, and the porch was silent apart from her ragged breaths.

Lowering her phone to the narrow table, she placed her hands on either side and dropped her head. What was she going to do? How could he just terminate the contract on the car? And refuse to pay her back? He owed her money.

And she didn’t have a car.

The shrill ringtone of her mobile pierced the silence, and she snatched it up. Maybe he’d changed his mind and was ringing to apologise? Maybe it had been some cruel, late April fools? ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, Nic.’ Jill’s sing-songy voice floated down the line. ‘I was just ringing to see how you got on at Little Mead Farm?’

Little Mead? Ugh. She’d promised Jill she’d go up there after work. Her plan had been to jump straight into the car and get it over and done with.

Mustering up all the energy she had left, she steadied her voice, trying her best to sound normal. ‘Something came up. I’ll pop by there in a bit.’

‘I can go if you need me…’ Jill’s sentence was cut off by one of her children shouting in the background.

‘But you promised me you’d stay at ballet and watch tonight!’

‘It’s fine.’ Nicola jumped in. ‘No problem. I’m actually on my way out now.’ The last thing she wanted was to have to cope with another impossible man, but what could she do? A promise was a promise, and she certainly didn’t want to ruin Jill and her children’s plans.

‘Are you sure? I feel so bad asking you.’ Jill’s voice became muffled as she covered the mouthpiece and spoke to the child next to her.

‘I’m literally walking out of the door now.’ Picking up her keys, Nicola jangled them before stepping outside and closing the door.

‘Oh, you are? Great. Thanks so much, Nic. You’re a total star.’ Relief flooded Jill’s voice.

‘Like I said, no problem.’ What was the problem was how she was going to get to the damn farm. With no car, and it being three miles away, it would take her ages to walk. Then she remembered the bike. When her mum had moved out of Pennycress Inn, she’d insisted on Nicola having her old teenage bike back, just in case. Maybe her mum had foreseen what an absolute heartless person Nathan really was and had just this situation in mind. Well, perhaps not exactly this situation…

‘Okay, thanks again. I’d better go.’

‘Yep. Have a good evening. Bye.’

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Nicola looked at the side gate. She hadn’t used it in so long, ivy had grown over the hinges and stretched across to the other side. Setting her jaw, she stepped forward. She’d need her bike until she sorted out the mess with Nathan and she certainly didn’t want to wheel it through the cottage. That was if she could even locate it in the shed after she’d fought her way through the web defences the village spiders had created.

6

Leaning her rusty old bike up against the metal fencing of Little Mead Farm, Nicola wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, streaking sweat, remnants of fine webbing and dust across her skin. She didn’t care though, she just wanted to get this over and done with so she could huff and puff her way back home before curling up in front of her TV and forgetting about just how much of a mess her life was in. For just a moment.

She grabbed her handbag, which she’d hung over the handlebars, flicking away the pink handlebar tassels of her youth. With every bump and dip in the road on the way over, her bag had jammed into her thigh. She’d just have to remember to hang it over the other handlebar on the way home. At least she’d end up with symmetrical bruises that way.

Walking up to the gate, she shouted, ‘Farmer Williams!’ The name sounded strange now she knew it wouldn’t be the original Farmer Williams she’d always known and loved responding to her calls. Still, as long as his grumpy nephew heard her, that was all she really cared about.

Of course, the way her luck was going this evening, it would have been too simple if he’d heard her and came to talk. Instead, she clicked the gate open and let herself through, causing a stir amongst the hens who scurried towards her.

‘Hello, girls. Where’s that horror of a man who feeds you?’

‘I’m here.’

Nicola jumped and spun on her heels, coming face to face with the younger Farmer Williams. She knew she should feel embarrassed, or at least a little self-conscious of the fact she’d just so blatantly insulted him, but she’d had enough this evening. She’d had enough of people thinking they could pull the strings and force her hand. She’d had enough of Nathan, the tow truck driver and men in general, and the last thing she wanted to do was to be forced to go back and disappoint Jill.

She glanced him up and down. Jeans, checked shirt, much in the same style his uncle used to wear, and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. He’d had the decency to put a shirt on today, then? Even if yesterday’s scowl was still reluctantly glued to his face. Huh, it was probably a permanent fixture. From the little she knew of him, anyway. ‘Evening.’

She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek as she felt a drop of sweat drip from her hair. If it wasn’t so hot, she might have actually enjoyed the bike ride out here. Or at least not hated every single second of it as much as she had.

‘You’re back.’ He slowly finished his sandwich before rubbing his hands together and crossing his arms.

‘Yes, I’m back. I wondered if you’d changed your mind about lending the village two of your tractors and trailers for the carnival. Please.’ She forced the last word.

‘Nope.’ Looking down, he picked at a crumb from the front of his shirt and flicked it in the direction of the hens pecking the ground around them.

There it was again. The same bubbling of anger she’d felt when she’d spoken to Nathan on the phone earlier. Just as Nathan had manipulated her, had turned her life upside down by going back on their agreement and refusing to pay back what he owed her, this man, Farmer Williams’ nephew, was intent on ruining the carnival for the whole village, and for what? To make a stance? To prove he was an idiot? She didn’t have a clue. What she did know was that she needed to try to remain calm. Despite his behaviour and obvious lack of caring or interest, she needed to keep her cool.

‘The thing is, as I told you yesterday, your uncle was one of the founding members of Meadowfield’s carnival and I know it meant an awful lot to him, so if⁠—’

‘You’re trespassing on my land to tell me what you think my uncle felt about the village carnival?’ He looked pointedly at her trainers.

Turning, she let herself out of the gate, closed it behind her and faced him again. ‘Better?’

‘I think you’ll find you’re still on my property and your…’ He blinked as he looked at her bike. ‘Is that seriously your bike? It looks as though it should belong to some teenage girl from the nineties.’

‘Yes, it’s mine.’ She pursed her lips.

‘Handlebar tassels and are those… Boyzone stickers on the frame?’ He stepped closer, leaning down slightly to inspect it.

She clenched her hand around the strap of her handbag. ‘That’s no concern of yours.’

Standing up, a flicker of a smirk flashed across his face, before he focused on her again. ‘And it’s no concern of yours if I choose to loan my farming equipment to you or not.’

‘But it’s not for me, it’s for the village! It’s for the clubs and the groups who always participate and create a float for the carnival. The day brings in thousands of people from the local towns and villages, as well as tourists to the area. It’s good for business.’

‘It’s not good for my business, though, is it?’ Shifting position, he widened his stance. ‘I’d have to lose out on a day without the tractors, a week or so without the trailers, not to mention the fact you want to poach my staff, too. How is the farm supposed to survive if all I do is lend out equipment and workers?’

‘It’s one day for the tractors and drivers. And I’ve already told you I can arrange for your trailers to only be needed for a few days. And it’s once a year.’ She held up her hand, pointing her index finger up to the sky. ‘One carnival, once a year.’

‘You’re going to have to make other arrangements.’ Shaking his head, he turned and began walking away.

Narrowing her eyes, she spoke through gritted teeth as she grabbed her bike. ‘You’re all the same.’

Pausing, he turned around again. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Nothing.’ Shaking her head, she sighed as a huge raindrop fell square in the middle of her forehead. Typical. There wasn’t anything like a torrential downpour to make a bike ride more exciting.

‘No, you said something. What did you say?’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets and met her gaze, his piercing blue eyes boring into hers.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t keep her cool. Not with someone like him. She could feel the anger inside her building as she let her bike drop against the fence again, the metal against metal clattering, and took two steps towards the gate. Holding her head up high, she stared right back at him, unable to suppress how she was feeling any longer. ‘If you must know, I said that you are all the same. All of you men. You think you can walk all over everyone else. You think that just because someone is asking something of you, asking you to uphold an agreement, that you can drop your responsibilities just like that…’

‘What responsibilities?’ He had the decency to frown.

‘All of them. Anything.’ She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter what it is. You have the audacity to go back on your word and pretend it wasn’t something you agreed to in the first place. You think you can change your mind and you don’t give a second thought to anyone who might be affected.’

‘Hey.’ He held his hands up, palms forward. ‘I didn’t agree to this. Not once have I agreed to this. I didn’t even know places like this still had carnivals.’

Places like this? What did he mean by that? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. ‘Fine, you might not have agreed to helping with the carnival, but you have taken over your uncle’s farm and you should continue his good work, his generosity. It’s not fair that you just take, take, take and you don’t care about what he worked for, what he stood for.’

Firmly crossing his arms, he sighed. ‘I didn’t choose to take over the farm and if you’re a typical citizen of Meadowfield, then the sooner the damn thing sells and I can go back to my old life, the better.’

Just as she was about to start telling him exactly what she thought of him, his words sank in and she blinked, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had risen. ‘You’re selling Little Mead?’

‘Not that it has anything to do with you, your stupid carnival or the rest of the village, but yes.’

‘But—’

‘Goodbye.’ Turning on his heels, he strode away into the barn without a second glance.

Little Mead Farm was being sold? It had been there forever. Nicola remembered Farmer Williams himself telling her and Jill that farming was in his family bloodline. They’d asked him why he’d chosen to buy the farm and he’d set them straight, explained he’d inherited it and he’d always known he’d be a farmer, ‘born into it’, he’d said.

But if Little Mead was sold, anything could happen to it. Developers could buy it and build a huge housing estate on the land. Anything. Nicola picked up her bike again as the rain grew heavier.

7

Come on, Nicola. Just a little further. Leaning forward on the bike, her chest almost touching the handlebars, Nicola willed herself to find some more strength. She pushed heavily against the pedals as she tried to cycle up the hill in the driving rain. Where had it even come from? It was supposed to be summer. The height of summer, even.

Clenching her hands against the brakes, she slowed to a stop. She just needed two minutes to catch her breath. Two minutes and then she’d force herself to make the rest of the journey home. She really didn’t have much further, a mile maybe? Once she reached the brow of this hill, she’d be able to see the village below. It really wasn’t far.

Gripping the bike with one hand, she reached up and scrunched her hair with the other, squeezing out rainwater before it was quickly replaced. She was soaked through. Literally.

She shrugged. Who was she kidding? If it hadn’t rained, then she’d still be soaked through, just from sweat instead. At least the rain made the journey a little cooler.

She should just get back on the bike and get home as quickly as she could. Her PJs were calling her. And Trixie. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d been able to hear Trixie from here. It was way past her dinner time. She should have fed her before she’d left. Why hadn’t she?

Just one more minute. One more minute of rest. When had cycling become so difficult anyway? Probably when she’d stopped cycling as a teen and started driving. But now of course that wasn’t an option, thanks to Nathan. Reaching into her handbag, Nicola pulled out her mobile and, using one hand to shield the screen from the rain, she checked to see if she’d had any missed calls or messages.

Nothing. So, Nathan wasn’t going to go back on his decision to effectively steal her money then? If he’d thought one iota about what she’d told him over the phone, then he would have rung, or at least messaged, apologised and promised to fix things. But he hadn’t. Great. So now she’d be stuck riding this thing until she could save up enough money to buy a cheap run-around.

Hefting herself back onto the saddle, Nicola hooked her handbag over the handlebar again and pushed forward. One more mile. One more.

Finally reaching the brow of the hill, she blinked as a pair of bright lights sped towards her; the rain distorting the light beams as they came closer and closer. It took her a few seconds to realise they belonged to a car, and it was literally speeding towards her.

Veering to the side quickly, she managed to let the car pass, suffering with only a splattering of water from a puddle they’d driven through. Disorientated, she clutched the brakes again, trying to slow down, but instead of slowing, the bike continued to gain momentum as it careened down the hill. She pumped the brakes again, hoping desperately that they’d work, that she’d perhaps just held them wrong, applied the pressure in the wrong place or at the wrong angle.

But no, they weren’t working at all and with the hill laid out in front of her; she knew she had to somehow stop before she picked up too much speed and she was eventually thrown over the handlebars or ended up coming face to face with another car.

Just as she was trying the brakes again whilst wracking her brains of any way of stopping without them, she felt the bike jerk beneath her as the front tyre hit a rock. She screamed and threw out her hands in front of her as she was thrown forward before landing in a heap at the side of the road.

Gingerly sitting up, she felt the sting of pain surging through her leg and across her palms as adrenaline coursed through her body. Tilting her face up to the sky, she let out a loud sob. This was a fitting end to a rubbish evening, wasn’t it? First Nathan, then Farmer Grumpy and now this.

Drawing her legs up to her chest, she lowered her head into the crook of her arms and cried. She cried for losing her car; she cried for failing one of her closet friends, Jill; but she cried the hardest because she felt as though she didn’t have anyone in her corner. Without Nathan, she didn’t have anyone to watch her back. Yes, she had her dear mum, and she knew without a single doubt in the world that her mum would do anything she could for her, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as having her person, her soulmate. She knew now, after that phone call with Nathan, that she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. She couldn’t even view him as someone who she could turn to in a crisis. Heck, he’d been the catalyst for this particular crisis.

Her fingers automatically flew to the dainty silver bracelet around her wrist, the one which her mum had promised would bring her luck. It was still there, it hadn’t broken. She looked down at the tiny silver horseshoe. Huh, what was she supposed to believe? That if she hadn’t been wearing it she’d have broken her leg instead of just hurting herself? Nicola shook her head. She couldn’t blame the bracelet for not saving her, she’d done this to herself. All of it. She should never have trusted Nathan with her heart in the first place.

The road lit up as another car drove in her direction, but she kept her head down, willing them to pass her, willing to be invisible. She kept her eyes tightly closed as the low rumble of the car stopped beside her, kept them closed as footsteps approached. She didn’t want to see anyone. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, tears, sweat, mud stained.

She felt his hand on her forearm before she heard the familiar low growl of his voice.

‘Are you hurt?’

Shaking her head, she fought the urge to push him away and run. To run and hide and wait for the day to pass. Not that she had the energy to do any more than hobble at the moment.

‘Are you sure?’

She could still feel his hand on her arm, the warmth from his skin against hers. He wasn’t going to just leave, to mind his own business and drive on by, was he? Taking a long shuddering breath, Nicola looked up and met those piercing blue eyes which less than half an hour ago had flashed with annoyance at her and yet were now filled with something else. Kindness, maybe? No, more likely pity.

Shaking his arm off, she nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

Leaning back on his haunches, he ran his hand through his hair, rainwater dribbling down his forehead. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

‘I don’t need a lift.’ She bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from wincing as she hobbled towards the bike. Leaning down, she picked it up and, thinking better of trying to ride it again, began pushing it down the hill as she limped beside it. It was a bit wobbly. The front wheel must have been bent in the fall. It was likely unrideable. She caught a sob in her throat as the realisation hit her that she now had no way of getting around. No car, no bike. Nothing.

Jogging to catch up with her, Farmer Grumpy stood in front of her and placed his hands next to hers on the handlebars, slowing the bike to a stop. ‘You can’t walk home like that. And you certainly can’t be thinking about getting back on this thing.’

Keeping her eyes fixed on the road in front of them, she spoke quietly. ‘This thing is the only means of transport I have.’

‘You’ve got your car, haven’t you? You came in a car yesterday.’ Still, he kept his hands on the bike, kept it rooted to the road.

‘Well, I don’t anymore.’ She wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks as she felt the warmth of tears mix with the cool rain. She looked away. She couldn’t believe she was crying in front of him, of all people.

‘I don’t even know your name.’

Glancing at him, she frowned. Why did he need to know her name? What was he going to do with that information? Report her for dangerous cycling? He’d probably throw in the heinous crime of trespassing on his land, too. At least she’d get a lift home in a police car, or to the station perhaps. She’d get a free cup of tea made by someone other than herself if she was taken into custody. ‘It’s Nicola. Nicola Fields.’

‘I’m Charlie. Charlie Williams.’

She nodded. She should have guessed he was a Charlie. With his light brown hair and surfer cut, he looked like a Charlie.

‘Can I give you a lift home?’ He nodded towards his truck.

‘No.’ But it was tempting. The interior light was on inside, possibly the heating too, and although it was still a warm evening, clammy even, after being out in the rain, mixed with the shock of being thrown from her bike, the idea of sitting in front of the truck’s heating sounded amazing.

‘Go on, you won’t have to suffer my company long. Meadowfield is less than a five-minute drive away.’

Nodding resignedly, she took her hands from the bike and watched him pick it up with ease and carry it towards the flat bed of the truck before lowering it in. She could cope with him and his attitude for five minutes if it saved her from hobbling all the way home. Besides, he didn’t seem quite as grumpy as he had earlier.

With the bike secure, he looked back towards Nicola and opened the passenger door. ‘Come on then. Hop in.’

She hobbled slowly towards the open door, careful not to put too much weight on her hurt leg but equally trying desperately to not show how much it really hurt.

Slipping into the seat, she leaned her head back against the headrest. ‘Thanks.’

After closing the door and jogging round to the driver’s side, Charlie sat beside her and started the ignition.

8

The trip into Meadowfield was quick, just as he’d promised, and quiet. He didn’t utter a word and instead of trying to fill the silence, which was something she would normally do, she didn’t. She just sat there, closed her eyes and willed herself not to burst into tears again.

‘Whereabouts are you?’ Charlie glanced at her as the street lights of Meadowfield welcomed them. ‘Where do you live?’

‘The Twistle. Just to the right.’ She pointed in the general direction of her road.

‘I know it.’

‘You do?’ She frowned. She’d assumed he’d only recently moved into the farm and guessed he hadn’t visited much before. If at all. She certainly couldn’t remember ever meeting Farmer Williams’ nephew.

He nodded as he turned the truck into her street. ‘Which one?’

She pointed to her cottage, the splash of yellow of the marigolds her mum had given her visible in the glow of the streetlamp. She and Nathan had rented the cottage for over eight years and now she did alone, and bit by bit they’d put their stamp on it – planting up the front garden being one aspect. ‘This one. And thank you.’

‘No problem.’ Jumping out of the truck, he jogged around to the passenger side before she’d even had a chance to reach for her bag from the footwell and place her hand on the door handle.

Gripping the edge of the door, she pulled herself out, careful not to put her weight on her hurt leg. ‘Thanks.’

He closed the truck door behind her before holding the gate open.

She could feel his eyes on her as she half-walked and half-hobbled to the door, a sharp pain shooting through her leg with each step she took. After walking the short distance to her door, she felt as though she’d run a marathon. Beneath the light of the outside light, she fumbled with her keys, watching as they slipped through her fingers to the ground.

‘Let me.’ As if he’d been waiting for such a thing to happen, Charlie jumped forward and picked up the keys, handing them back to Nicola with a slight grin.

Looking at him, she frowned. ‘I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.’

‘Huh?’ Running his hand across the back of his neck, he glanced back towards the truck.

With the door now unlocked and open, Nicola stepped into the porch and turned to face him. ‘Well, er, thanks again for the lift.’

Looking down, Charlie frowned, a deep crease furrowing across his already creased forehead. ‘Is that blood?’

Glancing down at her leg, she gripped the edge of the doorframe. She wasn’t very good with blood. She’d known she’d hurt her leg. She could feel that only too sharply, but she hadn’t noticed it was bleeding. She couldn’t draw her eyes from the red blood oozing through the fabric of her jeans. She braced herself as the all too familiar speckling of her eyesight began. If she didn’t sit down soon, she’d end up fainting, just as she had when Jill had grazed her knee after falling off a swing at the park when they’d been kids; just as she had when Nathan had hammered a nail through his thumb when she’d bought him a toolbox for Christmas one year in the vague hope he’d put some shelves up in the kitchen. The shelves were still leaning against the wall in the shed. She needed to sit down.

‘Whoa. Steady.’ Stepping forward, Charlie cupped her elbows, steadying her.

As he led her through into the living room, she could smell the earthy fragrance of the farm engrained into his shirt, feel the callouses on his palms as they brushed against her skin.

Lowering her to the sofa, Charlie gently pushed her head between her knees. ‘One moment.’ Charlie – Farmer Grumpy – was the last person she’d wanted to accept help from. The last person she’d even imagined would think to offer her help.

With her head lowered, Nicola looked at the floor. Much like at Pennycress Inn, the floorboards were dark oak, covered with a huge cream rug which stretched from the sofa towards the open fireplace opposite. As her eyesight cleared, she focused on her breathing.

Leaning back against the sofa cushions, she covered her eyes with the palms of her hands. The last thing she wanted to do was to catch sight of the blood once again. Besides, this way, her scarlet cheeks were hidden, too, although there was no sign of Charlie.

What was he doing? She listened to the opening and closing of cupboards in the kitchen, to the slosh of water as the tap was turned on, to the flick of the kettle. Was he making tea? She hadn’t envisaged him as a tea-making person, much less someone who would make tea for someone else. For her.

After what felt like at least ten minutes, he returned to the living room, holding a mug in one hand and a bowl in the other.

‘It’s got three sugars. To help with the shock.’ Charlie passed her the mug before placing the bowl – which she could now see had water in it – on the coffee table and kneeling in front of her. ‘Now, let’s see about getting that cut cleaned up, shall we?’

‘No!’ Sitting upright, she winced as hot tea splashed from the mug onto her lap. ‘Please don’t.’

Looking up at her, he frowned. ‘I was only going to clean your cut. From your reaction when you caught sight of the blood before, I assumed you have a bit of a phobia? In that case, how are you going to sort it out? You can’t just leave it, it needs cleaning properly.’

‘I…’ She could feel her cheeks heating up again. Up until he’d found her huddled at the side of the road, Charlie had only shown himself to be irritable, cantankerous and downright unsociable. Why would he want to help now? She certainly didn’t want his pity or him assuming she couldn’t cope. The whole damsel in distress role was definitely not for her.

‘My mum was the same. I don’t know how she survived having me, if I’m honest. As a kid, I was always falling off my bike or running headfirst into walls. I can’t remember the number of times I ended up in A&E being stitched back together again.’

‘Right.’ She swallowed and covered her eyes with her hand again.

‘Sorry, that’s probably not the best story to tell you right at this moment, but you get the gist.’ He shifted on his knees and looked at her for permission. ‘Let me help you.’

She nodded and bit down on her bottom lip as the fierce heat of embarrassment flushed across her face. The last thing she wanted was for him to help her, but it was that or be forced to face up to her fear of blood by herself.

He began rolling up the leg of her jeans. His touch was gentle which surprised her after the way he’d spoken to her earlier.

She just wanted this over and done with so he could leave. Yes, he might be being kind to her now, but it still didn’t excuse his earlier behaviour towards her, or yesterday’s either.

‘Now this might sting a little.’ Having revealed the gash across her shin, Charlie picked up the bowl of water and dunked in some cotton wool he must have found in the first-aid kit she kept in the cupboard, before squeezing the excess water out.

‘Uh-huh.’ Bracing herself, she was careful to keep her eyes covered as she felt Charlie dab the cotton wool across her leg. ‘Ouch.’

‘Sorry.’ With the wound cleaned, he stuck a plaster over it before gently rolling the leg of her jeans back down. ‘All done.’

Leaning forward, she straightened her jeans as he stood up. ‘Thank you. And sorry if I sounded ungrateful.’

‘No worries.’ He glanced down at the bowl in his hand. ‘I’ll just get rid of this. Try to get some of that tea down you.’

Picking up her mug again, Nicola took a sip, the highly sweetened drink drying her mouth. ‘Great, thanks.’

‘So what happened to your car? Did it break down? I can take a quick look if you like? Save you risking your neck on the country roads in the middle of the night again.’ He disappeared into the kitchen with the bowl before returning empty-handed. ‘I’ll go and take a look now.’

Pushing her hands against the sofa cushions, she forced herself to stand up despite the pain. ‘No, it’s not here. I don’t have it anymore.’

‘What? You swapped your car for a bike which would have been tatty twenty years ago?’ He chuckled, his eyes wide with surprise.

‘Well, no. It wasn’t a choice.’ She frowned. He was laughing at her situation with absolutely no knowledge as to what had happened. She guessed he normally just had things handed to him on a plate then? After all, he’d inherited his uncle’s farm, hadn’t he?

‘Sorry, that was a poor joke.’ He smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

She sighed. It wasn’t his fault she felt so wound up at the moment. It was Nathan’s. ‘Sorry, I just assumed you were being serious. Over the last couple of days, you didn’t strike me as the sort to joke around.’

‘Yes, well, I guess I’ve just had a lot on, you know. What with getting the farm ready to sell… among other things.’ He looked at her with that expression again, the one he’d had when he’d rescued her from the side of the road. His piercing blue eyes paling with warmth. ‘So you cycled up to the farm in this heat? You’re nothing if not persistent.’

‘I didn’t really have a choice, did I? I needed to beg you to lend us the tractors and trailers for the carnival.’

‘I would hardly call it begging,’ Charlie scoffed. ‘More like demanding, ranting even.’

Nicola took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, I… I’ve just had one of those days.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Haven’t we all?’

She nodded. ‘Can I ask why you’re selling? I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but Farmer Williams, your uncle, loved Little Mead so much. I remember him telling me how the farm had been in the family for generations. I’m sure he said something crazy, like a couple of hundred years.’

Taking a slow breath in, Charlie shook his head slightly and glanced towards the door, his expression reverting to his earlier steely, indifferent manner. ‘I should probably get going.’

She shouldn’t have said anything. He must have had his reasons why he’d decided to put Little Mead on the market. It couldn’t be something he’d considered lightly. ‘Okay. Well, thanks again.’

‘No worries.’ Picking up his jacket from the arm of the sofa, she watched as the edge of it caught her handbag, which she’d put there when she’d hobbled inside, knocking it to the edge of the sofa, its contents spilling across the rug. Bending down, he began shovelling the contents back inside, pausing as he picked up the photographs of Little Mead and his uncle that Jill had dropped by Pennycress on the school run. ‘What are these?’

‘They’re photos from past carnivals. From years ago.’ She hobbled across to him as he stood up and pointed to the one he held in his left hand. ‘See, that one shows the carnival as it makes its way up through the High Street, and the other one is a picture of your uncle helping with the village youth club as they decorated their float.’

‘Huh.’ Holding them up, Charlie scrutinised each one in turn, an expression she couldn’t read flickering across his face.

‘You can keep hold of them, if you like?’

‘Is this some ruse to try to get me to agree to help you? Agree to lend the village the use of my much-needed tractors and trailers?’ He placed them face down on the coffee table, his shoulders visibly tightening as he did so.

‘Well, I⁠—’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ He rubbed the palm of his hand over his face. ‘I really don’t have time for any favours and I certainly don’t need to build any relationships with the locals. I’m not even staying in Meadowfield. In fact, the sooner I can sell and get back to my normal life, the better.’

‘Right.’ Nicola stuffed the remaining items which had spilt back in her bag and stood up just as Trixie strolled in. Picking her up, she buried her face in her fur before looking back at Charlie. There must be something she could say. ‘I know you’re selling, but why don’t you do it for him, for Farmer Williams? In his honour? After all, like I told you, he was one of the founders of the Meadowfield carnival.’

‘No.’ Charlie shook his head, his face clouding with an expression Nicola couldn’t quite read. Was it grief, guilt or just plain not giving a damn?

‘Just no?’ Placing Trixie back on the floor, she watched as she immediately bee-lined towards Charlie, something she never usually did, apart from with herself and her mum, the masters of all things treatwise. Trixie was normally a timid little thing, wary of strangers, particularly men in big muddy boots.

‘Just no. I have no links with the village. Why would I want to spare my precious time, which at the moment is ultimately my money, to work on a daft carnival?’ He flared his nostrils, his earlier kindness quickly being replaced with full-on grump.

Putting her hands on her hips, Nicola frowned. If he wouldn’t stick up for his own uncle’s legacy, then she would. ‘It’s not daft. It brings the community together, and that’s what is special about Meadowfield – the community. Its tradition. A tradition your uncle started.’

Shaking his head, his jaw flexed. ‘You don’t need to tell me how to honour my own uncle.’

‘Really? Because from where I’m standing, you could certainly do with a few lessons.’ She clamped her mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said that. Farmer Williams was his family, not hers, and she’d just accused Charlie of not caring about his wishes. ‘Sorry, I⁠—’

‘I need to go.’ Bending down, he quickly fussed over Trixie, who stood on her back legs demanding attention. Straightening his back, he grabbed his keys from the coffee table, pausing a moment as he stared at the photos.

‘Take them. You might as well.’ For all the good they’d done in changing his mind, or not, as the case was. Still, his parents, siblings – someone – might have a bit more sentimentality towards his uncle’s life and achievements than he did.

Picking them up, he shoved them in his pocket before turning on his heels, Trixie darting behind him.

‘Trixie, stay here.’ Jumping forward, having completely forgotten about the pain in her leg during the argument, Nicola winced as she picked her up, waiting until she’d heard the click of the front door behind Charlie before lowering Trixie to the rug.

Flopping onto the sofa, she let herself be consumed by the cushions, thankful for the warmth and comfort. What a night! Why had Charlie completely turned at the mere mention of the farm? Before she’d brought it up, he’d been rather lovely, helping her, cleaning her wound, even being nice to Trixie, and yet as soon as she’d uttered a word about the carnival he’d clammed right up. Was it because she’d hit a nerve? She’d said, not too bluntly that he was more interested in selling the farm and pocketing the money than honouring his uncle’s wishes.

She’d gone too far. Why had she? Why had she let her mouth run away from her brain? Why hadn’t she stopped herself? She fiddled with her bracelet, dragging the small horseshoe across the dainty silver chain.

Winding herself around Nicola’s legs, Trixie meowed, giving her best shot of acting like an undernourished and much neglected cat.

‘Oh, Trix, is it really that bad?’ Nicola glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘If it wasn’t for the fact that I know Nanny has been round feeding you treats, then I’d agree with you, but knowing you had your belly stuffed full only a few hours ago, I don’t think you’ve got even a partially empty stomach.’

Resting her paws on Nicola’s trainers, Trixie rubbed her cheek against her jeans.

‘Okay, okay. Dinner time it is then.’ Pulling herself to standing, Nicola hobbled through to the kitchen, noticing the bowl Charlie had used washed and on the draining board. She frowned. A man solely consumed with how much money he could get from his uncle’s farm wouldn’t have helped her. No, there was more to Charlie Williams than met the eye. She was certain of it.

9

‘Morning, Nic! How’s things?’ Jill pulled her gardening gloves from her hands as she walked into the kitchen, flinging tiny clumps of dirt onto the newly mopped tiles.

‘Hi, all good thanks.’ Nicola nodded towards the kettle as it reached boiling point, ignoring the urge to grab the mop once again. ‘Fancy a coffee?’

‘Yeah, why not? I’ve got a few minutes before I need to go and collect Kasey from nursery.’ Laying the gardening gloves on the table, Jill sat down. ‘Dare I ask if you had any luck with the new farmer at Little Mead?’

‘I’d wait until you’ve got a strong coffee inside you.’ Nicola poured the water into two mugs, watching the coffee granules disperse and dissolve.

‘Ah, that bad?’

‘Uh-huh. That bad.’ Topping up with a splash of milk in each mug, Nicola then carried them across to the table. Apart from a little pain in her leg still, she’d woken up feeling less battered and bruised than she’d expected after yesterday’s incident with her bike.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the mug, Jill downed at least half the liquid before placing it on the table. ‘Right, coffee devoured. Hit me with it?’

Slipping onto the bench opposite her, Nicola wrapped her hands around the hot ceramic. ‘He still says no. Charlie Williams is not entertaining the notion of helping us at all.’

‘Charlie?’ Jill nodded. ‘Did you show him the photos? Of his uncle? At the carnival.’

Remembering the slight flicker of emotion that passed across Charlie’s face when he looked at the photos, Nicola nodded. ‘I did.’

‘And still no joy?’ Jill took another sip of coffee. ‘I don’t understand. He’s new here, you would have thought he’d want to immerse himself into the community, become part of the place, just as his uncle had been.’

‘Nope.’ Nicola shook her head slowly. ‘He wants to sell. He doesn’t want anything to do with Meadowfield or the farm. He has no interest in it or us whatsoever.’

‘Seriously? But even if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he want to participate this once? In memory of his uncle?’

‘He wants to do a few things to the farm, I guess, so he can get top price for it, sell, pocket the money and leave.’ Nicola shifted in her seat. A small part of her felt awful for speaking about Charlie like this. After all, he had shown her more than a little compassion last night, but he wasn’t helping himself. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in the carnival, despite her pleas for him to be involved for the sake of the community. ‘It’s just easy money for him, isn’t it? He inherits the farm, sells it and goes back to his old life, wherever that might be.’

‘Maybe, but…’ Jill sighed. ‘I don’t know. Farmer Williams was such a lovely, kind man. It’s difficult to think anyone who shares his genes can be that callous.’

Picking up her mug, Nicola took a sip before looking over the rim at her friend. ‘And he’s stolen my bike.’

‘What?’ Slamming her mug down on the table in surprise, Jill quickly mopped up a couple of droplets of coffee with the edge of her T-shirt.

‘I cycled to the farm last night, fell off on the way back home and he passed. He picked me up, drove me home, and he’s taken my bike.’ She shrugged. She left out the part where he’d helped her to the sofa and cleaned her up – she wasn’t even sure if she was remembering things right now. Those actions had seemed a far cry from the man she knew he was. Maybe it had been a blip? A temporary possession. Kindness flashing through the heart of an uncaring man, something like that.

‘Oh, wow!’ Leaning forward, Jill placed her hand on Nicola’s forearm before glancing over her shoulder as Laura entered the kitchen, a large pile of leaflets in her arms. ‘Hey, Laura. Have you heard this? Charlie, Farmer Williams’ nephew who has inherited his farm, stole Nic’s bike.’

‘He what?’ Slipping onto the bench, Laura opened her arms, leaflets cascading across the tabletop.

‘Well, he might have just forgotten it. I fell off on the way back from his farm and he put it in the back of his truck and took me home.’ Nicola picked up one of the leaflets from the heap in front of Laura. ‘Are these the ones you were talking about?’

‘Yes, the carousel stand for the hallway should be arriving tomorrow and then we can display leaflets of all the local attractions.’ Laura began sorting through the leaflets, stacking them into piles. ‘But tell me more. What happened? And where’s your car? I didn’t even know you had a bike, and it was raining last night, wasn’t it?’

Scrunching up her nose, Nicola began helping Laura, briefly glancing at the different leaflets before adding them to the piles. ‘Nathan. That’s what happened to my car. He stopped paying the finance even though we’d only arranged it through him as he owed me money.’

‘Oh, Nic. That’s awful. Have you tried speaking to him?’ Laura frowned.

‘It’s no use. Kerry says…’ Nicola rolled her eyes.

‘Ahh, the woman he ran off with?’

‘The very same.’ Nicola shook herself. She didn’t want to get into this. Not right now. Not at work. The less brain space she could give him – and Kerry – the better. ‘It’s fine. I’ve got my bike.’

‘Well, you haven’t. Not anymore.’ Jill spoke softly.

‘No, Farmer Grumpy ran off with it.’ Nicola burst out laughing. The whole scenario was just so insane. What was Charlie Williams going to do with a twenty-year-old teenage girl’s bike, complete with bright pink handlebar tassels and Boyzone stickers? She couldn’t exactly picture him cycling across his fields on it.

The tune of the doorbell filtered in through from the hallway and Laura stood up. ‘Ooh, I wonder if our leaflet stand has come already? It’s a bit early for this evening’s guests to be arriving.’

After watching Laura disappear into the hallway, Nicola picked up her mug and downed her now-lukewarm coffee before standing up. ‘Right, I’d better get on and actually get some work done.’

‘Me too.’ Pushing the bench back, Jill carried her mug to the sink. ‘After all the rain last night, it’s the perfect time to get some weeding done.’

Nicola looked across at the door as Laura peered round it. ‘Everything okay?’

‘It’s the farmer from Little Mead.’ Keeping her voice low, Laura hissed at her. ‘And he’s asking for you.’

‘Ooh, do you think he’s changed his mind about the carnival?’ Jill tapped Nicola on the arm, a grin playing at her lips. ‘Or else he’s returning your bike. Maybe he’s tried it out, and it’s not his style?’

‘Maybe.’ Nicola shook her head. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face Charlie Williams again so soon. ‘Why don’t you go and ask him?’

‘Nope. He’s asking for you.’ Gripping Nicola by the shoulders, Jill spun her around so she was facing the door. ‘Go on. Go and find out.’

Rolling her eyes, Nicola reluctantly began heading towards the kitchen door. He could keep the bike if it meant she didn’t have to have anything more to do with him and his awful attitude.

Stepping aside to let her pass, Laura smiled sympathetically at her.

And there he was, leaning against the reception desk, complete with muddy boots and checked shirt. As soon as he saw her, he straightened his back, running his fingers through his hair.

‘Hi. How can I help you?’ Keeping her voice calm, she forced a smile. Please don’t mention yesterday. If he did, she was sure she’d self-combust from the embarrassment.

‘Hey, I, err…’ He pointed towards the door. ‘I have your bike.’

‘Right. Thanks.’ She nodded as she watched him dither on the spot, unsure whether to go outside or wait until she’d said something else. ‘Can you just leave it outside, please?’

He nodded slowly. ‘Of course.’

Keeping her smile fixed, she busied herself behind the desk, picking up a pen and jotting down some ineligible note in the notebook, waiting for him to leave. But he didn’t. He was still there. Sighing, Nicola looked up at him. He obviously wanted her to grovel, to thank him yet again for being human and helping her. Well, if that’s what he wanted… ‘Look, thank you again for taking me home yesterday and for…’ She indicated her leg. ‘Everything.’

‘No problem.’ Turning, he began walking towards the door before retreating back towards the desk. Tapping his fingers on the wood, he briefly met her eyes. ‘Look, I’ll lend you my tractors and trailers. But I won’t be able to spare them for preparations for more than a few days beforehand.’

‘You will?’ With her voice raised, she grinned. He was actually going to help! Yes, he looked as though he was being forced into it, much the same as Trixie looked when she’d had to give her a shower in the sink after she’d rolled in something indescribably foul, but he was doing it.

‘I will.’ He nodded again. ‘But, like I said, I won’t be able to spare them for long, so any preparations, decorating or whatever assembling a carnival float entails will have to be done close to the day and not take long.’

‘Right, yes. That will be fine. Thank you!’ She’d take anything and she was sure Jill would be able to work around his stipulations.

Pausing for a moment, he then turned back to the front door and left.

As soon as the door closed, Laura sidled up to the reception desk, leaning her elbows on the wood and staring at Nicola. ‘So? What happened?’

‘Yes, tell us. Did he have an excuse as to why he drove off with your bike in the back of his truck?’ Jill joined them, walking towards the front door and watching as his truck drove past the end of the garden before walking back to the reception desk.

‘He’s brought my bike back, but better than that, he’s agreed we can borrow his two tractors and trailers for the carnival.’ Nicola grinned as she watched relief flood across Jill’s face.

‘That’s amazing!’ Clapping her hands together, Jill pulled her mobile from her pocket. ‘I’ll have to let Miss Cooke and Rachel know. They’ll be thrilled.’

Holding her hand up, palm forward, Nicola waited until she had Jill’s attention again. ‘Although he was very clear, he can only spare them for a couple of days.’

‘Oh, that’s fine.’ Jill waved her hand dismissively. ‘We can work around that. All the decorations can be made in the village hall or somewhere and then fixed to the trailers in the day or two beforehand.’

‘Okay.’ Nodding, Nicola smiled. The carnival was going to go ahead, all clubs and groups included, as well as honouring Farmer Williams’ memory.

‘I’ll go and ring them now.’ Holding her mobile to her ear, Jill disappeared outside.

‘I think she’s pleased.’ Laura laughed. ‘Well done, Nic. Oh, by the way, are you free to come to the pub for lunch tomorrow? My treat, as a staff meeting sort of thing.’

‘Yes sure. Sounds good.’ Nicola nodded. A staff meeting at the pub? They normally just caught up through a quick chat in the kitchen over a coffee. ‘Is the meeting about anything in particular?’

Laura shifted on her feet as she shook her head. ‘No, not really. You’ll come, won’t you?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Nicola frowned slightly. Why hadn’t Laura answered her properly?

‘Great. Thanks. I’ll ask Jill once she’s finished on the phone.’ Laura pointed towards the kitchen. ‘I left the leaflets on the table, didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’ Nicola watched as Laura disappeared into the kitchen. There was definitely something going on.

10

Wheeling her bike around the back of the cottage, Nicola couldn’t stop smiling. Charlie had straightened the front wheel before dropping it at the inn earlier. And by the way it rode, he’d fixed the brakes and checked everything else too, not to mention given it a good clean. She hadn’t realised a twenty-year-old bike could look so gleaming. Maybe she’d judged him too harshly. He wasn’t all that bad. And he definitely had a kind side beneath that hard exterior of his. The way he’d behaved towards her after her accident, and now this – those two incidents were proof enough. Plus he’d accepted their request to be involved with the carnival, too.

‘Hey, Trixie!’ Leaning down as the little cat began winding herself around the front wheel, Nicola swooshed her away. ‘That’s it. Just let me prop it up and then we’ll go and find some treats, shall we?’

Moving just a centimetre to the side, Trixie stretched, her small mouth opening in a silent yawn.

‘Gee, thanks for your cooperation.’ Laughing, Nicola carefully lifted her bike above Trixie and leaned it against the fence before turning to the door and tapping her hand against her leg. ‘Come on, then, Trix. Let’s find you some treats.’

Hearing a tapping on the side gate, Nicola frowned as it opened. Who would that be?

The catch rattled, the gate opening to reveal Miss Cooke standing there in a green boiler suit and green boots. ‘Oh, good, you’re back. We’ve been waiting for you.’

‘Hello, Miss Cooke,’ Nicola stuttered as she overcame her surprise. ‘You’ve been waiting for me?’

‘Yes, yes. Now come on. I’ve got the Under Fourteens’ netball team with me.’ Stepping aside, Miss Cooke signalled Nicola to go through.

Looking at Trixie, who would now have to wait for her treats, Nicola grimaced and silently mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ before turning back to Miss Cooke. ‘The netball team? I don’t play netball.’

‘Well, I know that. And if I’m surely not mistaken, you’re a little over fourteen too, but what has that got to do with it? Now come on. We’ve no time to waste.’ Ushering her through into the front garden, Miss Cooke tutted.

‘I don’t understand.’ Nicola quickly pulled the gate closed behind her before looking towards the minibus parked on the road beyond her front garden. It seemed Miss Cooke hadn’t been joking when she’d said she’d brought a whole netball team with her. ‘What does this have to do with me?’

‘No time for dilly-dallying.’ Miss Cooke, ignoring her question, marched to the minibus and pulled open the passenger door, waiting for Nicola.

‘I don’t think—’ What was the point? The older woman wasn’t even listening to her. She guessed she’d find out sooner rather than later what Miss Cooke wanted her for. Besides, she’d learnt long ago there wasn’t much point in arguing with her.

‘In you hop. Mind your head.’ Miss Cooke waved her inside.

As soon as Nicola had sat down, confused, in the front passenger seat, the door was slammed, and moments later, Miss Cooke joined her behind the wheel.

‘Belts on, girls. We’re off!’

‘Um, where are we going?’ Nicola glanced back towards her cottage, half hoping to see a swarm of police cars following them after her literal kidnap, but unsurprisingly the street was empty. ‘You’ve not recruited me to be a coach or a referee or something, have you? Because I literally wouldn’t know where to start.’ What would have given Miss Cooke the slightest hint that she had any interest in netball?

Covering her mouth as she turned out of Nicola’s road, Miss Cooke snorted. ‘Oh, I know you don’t. You came for a try-out when you were a teenager, remember? So, I can speak from a place of absolute certainty.’

‘Oh, right.’ Nicola pursed her lips, unsure whether to be relieved or offended. Turning in her seat, she glanced behind her, row upon row of gangly teens grinning back at her. Huh, even though she recognised them as Meadowfield’s netball team and they were travelling in a minibus emblazoned with the team colours, they weren’t wearing their kit. Instead, besides a few who had seemingly dressed up for this occasion – whatever the occasion might be – the majority of them wore what looked to be old, worn jeans and t-shirts. Where were they going? ‘So, what is this all about, then? Why am I here and where are we going?’

‘Why, we’re off to Little Mead Farm, of course!’

‘Little Mead? No, we can’t.’ Nicola shook her head violently as a feeling of horror washed over her. ‘We really, really can’t just turn up at the farm. You know he said we could only have access to the trailers for a couple of days before the carnival. Jill told you, didn’t she?’

‘She did, but we’re going to take the measurements of a trailer!’ The tone in Miss Cooke’s voice suggested it was an obvious answer.

‘But… we can’t! Not today.’ Nicola looked in the wing mirror, trying to gauge how long it would take her to walk home if she got Miss Cooke to pull over now and let her out.

Miss Cooke waved her hand, dismissing the very idea that she and Nicola turning up with fifteen or so netball-mad teenagers would be any sort of problem for a working farmer.

Nicola looked out of the window, watching as the cottages gave way to field upon field. They’d be there soon. Unannounced. And she had the distinct feeling this wasn’t going to turn out well.

* * *

The minibus bumped across the uneven track before Miss Cooke pulled it to a stop millimetres away from the metal fence encompassing the farmyard.

‘Look lively, girls! We’ve arrived.’ Jumping out from the minibus, Miss Cooke rapped her knuckles against Nicola’s door before sliding the back one open.

Gulping, Nicola slowly unclipped her seatbelt, a feeling of dread pooling at the bottom of her stomach. This would be her fault. Charlie would definitely blame her.

Slinking from the seat, Nicola closed her door quietly behind her and stood at the back of the excited crowd, hoping to hide from him.

Clapping her hands, Miss Cooke shushed everyone. ‘Now, remember to be respectful and alert. This is a working farm, and we don’t want to get in the way, now do we?’

Two girls in front of Nicola sniggered.

With her hands shoved in her pockets, she watched the barn door swing open. Striding towards them, Charlie wore an expression akin to shock. As he slowed to a stop in front of them, Nicola could see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

‘Ah, Farmer Williams.’ Turning to him, Miss Cooke held out her hand. ‘The young Farmer Williams, I should say. Please accept my sincere condolences over the passing of your dear uncle.’

Knitting his eyebrows together, Charlie ignored Miss Cooke’s hand and instead pulled a stalk of hay from his sleeve. ‘Why are you here?’

Looking from her hand to Charlie, Miss Cooke shook her head slightly before lowering it to her side and answering him with all the enthusiasm of a Girl Guides leader. ‘We’ve come to measure up one of your trailers for our carnival float, haven’t we, girls?’

A not so raucous agreement sounded from the group of teenagers swarmed behind her.

‘Oh no, that was not our agreement.’ Charlie wagged his index finger. ‘I reluctantly agreed to lend my trailers in the few days running up to the carnival and, if I’m not mistaken, you still have weeks until the big day.’

‘We do indeed, but we need to take vital measurements before our group of creatives can work their magic.’ She waved her hands to encompass everyone huddled into the farmyard, including Nicola who ducked behind the group of teens.

‘It’s not happening.’ Charlie turned around, retreating towards the barn.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he turned, Nicola straightened her back. That had been a close call. Now they could just turn and leave before he even realised she was here.

‘Nicola!’ Holding her hand above her eyes to shield herself from the evening sunlight, Miss Cooke searched the gaggle of people behind her.

Stopping abruptly, Charlie turned back around slowly, his eyes searching the group.

Great. Just what she was afraid of happening. Miss Cooke was singling her out. Well, Nicola wasn’t about to just let her pin the blame on her. She’d made it perfectly clear that they would be unwelcome and unwanted guests at Little Mead.

Sighing, she weaved her way towards the front until she was standing next to Miss Cooke.

‘Tell him. Go on, tell him that we need to measure up.’ Miss Cooke brandished her finger towards Charlie.

Okay, this was it. She took a deep breath, balling her hands into fists at her side. ‘I did try to say that Farmer Williams here had set certain rules with regard to our agreement.’

Widening his stance, Charlie nodded at her.

‘Yes, yes, and we’ll uphold that agreement, as I’ve already said. But now we need to take measurements. Anyone and everyone who has ever been involved with the Meadowfield carnival knows how these things work.’ Miss Cooke’s harsh voice broke through the soft clucking of the hens fussing around their feet.

Charlie ran his hand across his face, the stubble catching against the callouses on his palm, before holding his hand out. ‘Fine. Go on then. There’s a trailer behind the barn. Go straight there, measure and head home again.’

‘Thank you, Farmer Williams.’ Nodding curtly, Miss Cooke began to usher the girls towards the barn.

‘Don’t touch anything except the trailer and don’t wander off anywhere else. This is a working farm,’ Charlie called after them before kicking at a stone beneath his feet.

Standing still as the group walked past her, Nicola looked over at Charlie. She could tell he was angry, cross at the unannounced interruption to his evening. ‘I tried to tell her.’

Glancing across at her briefly, Charlie barely nodded. ‘Uh-huh.’

Nicola walked towards him. ‘I’m telling the truth. I knew nothing about this until she basically shoved me into the minibus. When she told me where we were going, I told her we wouldn’t be welcome.’

Charlie sighed, a loud audible escaping from his lips. ‘I knew this would happen. This is why I didn’t want to sign up for anything.’

‘Well, I didn’t. I didn’t know Miss Cooke would ignore your wishes.’

Shrugging as though divesting himself of the problem, Charlie turned his attention back to Nicola.

‘What? I didn’t.’ She held her arms open, trying to show him she was being honest. Searching for something to say to change the subject, she spoke quickly. ‘Thank you for the bike, by the way. For checking it over and fixing the brakes and wheel.’

‘It’s fine.’ He turned as he barked the words out before pointing in the direction of his unwanted guests. Without giving her a backwards glance, he said, ‘Keep an eye on them. Make sure nobody wanders off.’

‘I will.’

Nicola slumped her shoulders. That was it then, the kind Charlie who had surprised her by reconditioning her bike had disappeared, once again being replaced with the grumpy man she watched disappear in the opposite direction.

11

‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ As she ushered the netball team back onto the minibus, Miss Cooke nodded at Nicola, who was standing next to her.

Not so bad? She doubted whether Charlie would ever speak to her again, let alone be so inclined to do anything charitable for the villagers in the near future. She looked towards where he was standing beside the farmyard gate, watching silently as they crammed into the vehicle. Not that it mattered what he thought of her, and besides, he was selling the farm, anyway. Hopefully, someone who appreciated and nurtured connections with the local community would fill his position.

‘At least you have your measurements,’ Nicola acknowledged.

‘Yes, yes. We can make a start on implementing our designs now.’ Miss Cooke smiled brightly, seemingly completely unaware of the glare Charlie was sending her way.

When the last teen had climbed into the minibus, Nicola noticed Charlie turn on his heels and walk away.

‘Right, is that everyone? Let’s have a quick headcount.’ Miss Cooke pulled herself up onto the steps of the minibus and peered inside, her index finger pointing as she counted.

Pulling open the front passenger door, Nicola took a final look towards where Charlie had been standing, eyeing them as they got ready to leave. She really couldn’t read him. Normally, she was relatively good at measuring someone up, noticing the way they spoke, how they acted, even their stance, which gave her clues as to whether they were to be trusted, were kind, or the opposite, but she found she just couldn’t with Charlie. She’d been certain he’d never have relented into lending his tractors and trailers and yet here he was, even if he hadn’t had much choice in the matter of Miss Cooke turning up with the Meadowfield under fourteens’ netball team, but still, he’d agreed to it. And he’d helped her in her hour of need. She hadn’t envisioned that either.

She climbed the steps and laughed at herself. She hadn’t exactly read Nathan very well either, had she? Maybe her skills at reading people weren’t so great after all.

‘Where are Carrie and Harper?’ Miss Cooke’s shrill voice grew louder.

Nicola felt dread pooling in the bottom of her stomach. Carrie and Harper were the girls who had sniggered at Miss Cooke earlier, and the two she’d marked as being troublesome as soon as she’d seen them messing about with some tools that had been left next to the trailer. She looked around the farmyard, hoping they’d just been lingering somewhere chatting and hadn’t realised everyone else was now on the minibus, but the farmyard was empty. Even the hens had scarpered.

‘I think I saw them going towards the farmhouse a few minutes ago.’ One of the girls sitting closest to the door spoke up as she twizzled her dark hair around her finger.

‘You did? Why on earth didn’t you say anything?’ Miss Cooke huffed as she stepped back out of the minibus.

‘I’ll go and see if I can find them.’ Nicola climbed down out of the minibus and glanced around the farmyard again, relieved Charlie was nowhere to be seen. If the runaways could be found and returned without him realising, he might just keep to his promise of helping the cause of the carnival. If they couldn’t, they’d definitely be two floats down.

‘Yes, yes. Hurry up then. I’ll stay here with the others.’ Miss Cooke glanced behind her at the loaded minibus. ‘To supervise them.’

Nodding, Nicola let herself back through the gate into the farmyard and made her way in the direction of the large stone house which stood to the right. Why on earth would the girls have come over here? They’d been told to all stay together, and they’d been specifically instructed not to wander off. Charlie was right, this was a working farm, not a children’s playground.

She frowned as she walked towards the back of the house. A collection of outbuildings were clustered between the house and the field behind, as well as a row of small stone stables, unused by the looks of it, or at least not used to house horses any longer, and beyond them stood a smaller metal structured barn and a couple of wooden sheds.

The girls could be anywhere, and it would take her ages to search inside all these buildings. Glancing around her, Nicola quietly called out, ‘Carrie, Harper.’

It was no good. They wouldn’t be able to hear her. She knew that. Not unless they were super close, but if she called any louder, then she ran the risk of alerting Charlie to the fact he had two teenage girls running amok around his farm.

Making her way towards the row of stone stables, Nicola walked around the side of them, glancing behind to see if they were hiding there. Nope, apart from a small scrapyard of various metal farming equipment having either been dumped there through disuse or perhaps awaiting repairs, there was no sign of the girls. She’d have to check inside.

Just as she was walking back out into the farmyard, she came face to face with Charlie himself. Stopping in her tracks, she dug her hands into her pockets in the vain attempt to look as though she was – what? Casually snooping. She had no idea, but the longer she could prevent him realising that Carrie and Harper had done exactly the opposite of what he had instructed, the better.

Mirroring her, Charlie crossed his arms and harrumphed, his eyebrows raised in question.

Trying to keep her expression neutral, Nicola glanced behind her, buying her some time to think of a suitable excuse.

‘She’s already told me. That mayoress of yours.’ Charlie’s jaw flexed. ‘I saw the minibus was still parked up so went to find out why.’

‘She has?’ Nicola blinked.

‘She has, so I’m going to assume they’re not hiding behind the stables.’

‘Nope. They’re not behind there.’ Pulling her hands from her pockets, she scraped her hair back into a quick ponytail, glad she had the habit of wearing a hairband bracelet-style. ‘I’ll find them, though. Don’t worry, you can go back to your… umm, farming and I’ll make sure they get on the minibus.’

‘Just like you did the first time around?’ He tilted his head, eyeing her.

‘Well, no.’ Nicola sighed. She knew she’d be the one to take the blame. ‘It wasn’t my fault they decided to run off. They’re probably just exploring or have gone on a little walk or something.’

He shook his head. ‘I specifically said I didn’t want children running around the farm unsupervised. It’s not safe. They could be anywhere by now and doing anything.’

‘They won’t be. They’re thirteen, fourteen.’ She shrugged. She wasn’t sure, but they were around that age. ‘They’re old enough to know not to touch anything they shouldn’t.’

‘Just like they’re old enough to follow instructions, you mean?’

She flared her nostrils. She wanted to be here as much as he wanted to participate in the carnival preparations. She didn’t ask for this to happen and, ultimately, she wasn’t responsible for the girls having run off.

Stepping around him, she pulled open the first stable door, peering inside. The space was lit by the setting sun streaming in through a small window but all it illuminated was more farming paraphernalia. No netball players. Stepping back outside, she pulled the door firmly shut.

‘Don’t they have mobiles you could ring? I thought all teenagers had one permanently glued to their palms nowadays?’ He followed her towards the middle door of the stable block.

‘I don’t know. Maybe, go and ask Miss Cooke. They’re part of her netball team, after all. I don’t have anything to do with them.’ She pushed the door before ramming it with her shoulder as it stuck. She hadn’t noticed any mobiles on the minibus, but even if they did have one, would Miss Cooke have their phone numbers? Pushing against the door again, it finally gave way, and she half fell inside, quickly reaching out her hand to steady herself.

‘That might be worth a shot, mightn’t it? Rather than wandering aimlessly around the farm.’ He held the door open for her as she walked further inside as he continued, sarcasm lacing his words, ‘It might take a while to cover two hundred acres of farmland. Might even take us up until the day of the carnival.’

Turning to face him, Nicola wiped cobwebs from her face as she tried to stop herself from shouting at him. ‘Yes, good idea. Go and ask her.’

‘Maybe I will.’ He waited until she’d escaped the spiderweb-filled stable and closed the door behind her.

‘Good.’ Anything to take him away from her for a while. Yes, this wasn’t a great situation, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. Pulling up the edge of her T-shirt sleeve, she wiped her face again and shuddered. She felt as though she had a million spiders crawling across her skin. If she’d been with anyone else, she’d have asked them if she had any on her, but not him.

‘Hold on.’ Stepping forward, Charlie closed the small gap between them.

She paused as he reached his hand out towards her, brushing his fingers against the skin of her forehead. As soon as he’d stepped back again, she scrubbed her forehead, raking her fingers through her hair. ‘What was it? Was it a spider? Have I walked into a nest or something?’

His lips twitched with a smile. ‘It was just a web.’

‘Are you sure?’ She looked at him wide-eyed. Mice she could cope with. She didn’t mind trapping and releasing a hundred mice from her cottage, but spiders? They were a whole different story. Eight spindly legs. She shuddered again.

‘I’m sure.’ Relenting, he broke into a grin, his eyes dancing with the same unreadable expression he’d had when he’d taken her home.

‘Are you laughing at me?’ She continued to brush her arms. He was, wasn’t he? He was laughing at her.

‘Sorry. I’m not.’ He ran his palm across his face. ‘Or at least I’m not anymore.’

‘Well… thanks.’ She rolled her eyes at him. What a gentleman.

Marching towards the final stable door, she ripped it open and flourished her arm to indicate he should go through.

‘Your turn.’

‘Fine.’ Peering inside, he shook his head before closing the door again.

Slumping her shoulders, she sighed. ‘Where are they?’

‘I don’t know, but one thing I do know for certain is that I’m quickly regretting my decision to bow to your demands.’ He began striding away.

‘Hey, hang on. What do you mean, my demands? I’m not the one running the carnival. In fact, I only had the one job, and that was to convince you to agree to letting the community hub,’ she emphasised these words to reiterate the fact she wasn’t closely involved with the big event, ‘borrow the use of your tractors and trailers. That was all.’

‘But here you are.’ Stopping short, he turned to face her, the expression on his face slipping back into the usual grumpy frown she was used to seeing.

‘Yes, here I am because I’m a decent human being who happens to want to help the local community.’ She drew a breath. ‘This is not in my job description.’

‘It’s not in mine either.’ He grumbled as he resumed walking.

‘I know, I know.’ She jogged to catch up with him. ‘I understand you’ve got better things to be doing than running around after AWOL teenagers. You must have a lot of settling in to do, working things out and all that.’

‘Not settling in. No. I’m selling the place, remember?’

‘Ah, yes, of course.’ Why had she said settling in? Of course, he was just getting the farm ready to sell. He’d already told her that. ‘When are you hoping to get it on the market?’

Stopping, he looked at her, his eyes meeting hers. ‘Why? Are you going to make me an offer?’

‘Er… no. I was just wondering.’ She frowned. She’d just been trying to make conversation, that was all. And, of course, trying dismally to appease him, hoping the girls would just show up of their own accord and they could all get out of his way. She’d forgotten he was going to sell.

‘That’s a shame.’ There was that sarcasm again. He began walking once more. ‘It’d be a lot sooner if I didn’t have to spend my time running around the farm looking for kids you were supposed to be in charge of.’

‘I wasn’t…’ Nicola let her voice trail off. What was the point in repeating herself?

Her attention was caught by Miss Cooke hurrying towards them, arms waving in the air.

‘Please tell us you’ve found them.’ Charlie growled as Miss Cooke reached them.

‘Yes, yes, disaster averted. Carrie and Harper have returned.’ Miss Cooke held her side as she filled her lungs.

‘And dare I ask what they’ve been doing all this time?’ Raising an eyebrow, Charlie glanced towards Nicola before looking back at the mayoress.

‘Just walking. They said they got a little lost.’

‘Well, I don’t want them coming here again. If they can’t respect my land, then they have no business returning.’ Charlie led the way through the farmyard and held the gate open for them.

‘I don’t think banishing them is called for. They just got lost, that’s all.’ Miss Cooke pulled out a bunch of keys from her handbag as she walked through the gateway.

‘They broke the rules. I can’t have children on my farm who are going to run wild around all the farming equipment. My insurance wouldn’t cover me if anything happened to them.’ He nodded to Nicola to go through.

Walking past him towards the minibus, she kept her gaze forward. She had to admit he did have a point.

‘Give them one more chance. They’ve learned their lesson now and if they go off again, then you can banish them. Just let them join the rest of the team when we come to attach all the decorations we make.’ Miss Cooke pulled open the driver’s door.

Charlie sighed audibly as he closed the gate behind them. ‘Whatever, but they’re your responsibility.’

‘Yes, yes. Thank you.’ Miss Cooke closed the driver’s door.

‘Thanks. Bye.’ Nicola watched as he gave a small terse nod before she joined Miss Cooke in the minibus.

Shifting the gearstick into reverse, Miss Cooke studied the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m not sure where he’s got his impossible nature from, but it definitely isn’t from his dear uncle.’

‘Hmm.’ Nicola looked out of the window and watched as Charlie turned his back on them and disappeared into the barn. She traced her index finger over her forehead where, minutes earlier, Charlie had brushed his fingers against her skin as he’d wiped away the cobweb. Yes, he was rather impossible.

12

‘Yes, at lunchtime, Mum.’ Nicola smiled as she sidestepped around a young family on the school run, a dad pushing the buggy whilst a small child clung to the handle, his brilliant purple book bag banging against his knees every time he took a step. Once he’d thanked her, she turned her attention back to her mobile.

‘And it’s a meeting, you say?’ Vivienne’s voice wafted through the phone.

‘That’s right. A staff meeting with me and Jill. All I can think is that Jackson needs to be involved and, being as he stills cooks at the pub, it’s easier for him if we have the meeting there so he can pop over and say what needs to be said or to listen.’ She shrugged. She hadn’t managed to glean any more information from Laura yesterday. Every time she’d tried to ask, something had come up – the phone had rung, or a group of people had stopped by the inn for tea and cake.

‘I’m sure it’s fine, Nicola. It won’t be anything to worry about.’ Vivienne’s voice was reassuring.

‘I hope you’re right. I don’t know what I’d do if Laura turned round and told me they were selling, and I’d be out of a job.’ Nicola rounded the corner onto Wisteria Lane and Pennycress Inn came into view. ‘I love working there.’

‘I bet you do. After growing up at Pennycress, it’s a home from home for you.’

‘Yes, that’s exactly it. And in a weird way, I kind of feel as though I’m giving something back, something to the future of Pennycress, being able to use my marketing knowledge to help Laura and Jackson.’ She unlatched the gate and smiled at the large Cotswold stone property in front of her. The small straw cat still prowled across the thatched roof. She remembered her mum insisting on having it up there when the roof was being re-thatched. Nicola had always loved cats and her mum had told her it was for her.

‘I’ll be at the pub this morning too with my book club, so I’ll be about if I can help in any way.’ Vivienne paused. ‘I do hope Laura isn’t selling.’

‘Umm. I’d better go now, anyway. I’ve just arrived.’ Nicola pushed open the wrought-iron gate. ‘See you at lunch.’

‘Yes, will do. Love you.’

‘You too.’ After ending the call, Nicola slipped her mobile into her handbag and looked around the garden. As she walked towards the front door, the lavender brushed against the bottom of her trousers, filling the warm summer air with the familiar earthy aroma of her childhood.

‘Morning, Nic!’ Jill waved at her from the decking encompassing the right-hand side of the inn as she planted up some pots.

‘Hi.’ Walking up the steps, Nicola reached Jill. ‘You’re early today.’

‘I know.’ Straightening her back, Jill placed her hands on her hips, the trowel she’d been using to plant dropping clumps of dirt down her shorts. ‘Gerald is doing the school run today. Little Willow has a choir performance at half two, so I wanted to make up any time I’ll miss this morning.’

‘Oh, that’ll be nice going to watch her. Was she looking forward to it?’

‘Most definitely. She’s so excited. It’s all she’s been talking about for the last couple of days. My choir this, my choir that…’ Throwing back her head, Jill laughed.

‘Aw, that’s really sweet.’ Nicola checked the time on her watch and nodded towards the front door. ‘I’d better get a move on. We’ve got the sewing group coming in an hour and I want to look over the social media campaign for Pennycress before they arrive.’

‘Okay. Catch you later.’ Jill knelt back down.

‘Yes, we’ve got that staff meeting at the pub this lunchtime, remember?’

Jill looked up at her, the trowel mid-air. ‘Ah, yes, it had completely slipped my mind.’

Nicola frowned before turning to the door. Wasn’t Jill as worried as she was? Once inside, she closed the door and walked across to the reception desk. She was no doubt overthinking things. Laura probably just thought it would be nice for them to have their meeting at the pub – a good excuse to get away for an hour or so and treat themselves to lunch, too. She’d have said if she was thinking of selling. And even if she hadn’t, then Nicola would surely have picked up on something, but, if anything, Laura had been happier than ever recently. Things were going well. Or they seemed to be.

‘Hi, Nic, you’ll never guess what happened this morning!’ Laura placed two mugs on the counter and pushed one across to Nicola.

‘Thanks.’ Picking up the mug, she inhaled the strong fragrance of coffee as her stomach grumbled. Thanks to Trixie pulling one of her middle-of-the-night hunting sessions and dragging a petrified bird through the cat flap at half-past three in the morning, Nicola hadn’t had time for her morning coffee, let alone any breakfast, after missing her alarm. Thankfully, with a little coaxing from Nicola, the bird had escaped unscathed bar a few tail feathers, but Trixie was still in her bad books nonetheless for disturbing her much-needed sleep. ‘What happened?’

‘I had another mouse incident, only this time it was a laptop charger which had got tangled in the bedsheets.’ Laura laughed. ‘I thought it was a snake at first.’

‘Haha. You would have thought someone would know they were missing a laptop charger when they packed up.’

‘Exactly! As soon as I found it, I rang Mr Tresend who had stayed last night and, luckily, he was only ten minutes away so managed to pop back and not be late for his meeting or wherever he was going.’ Laura sipped her coffee.

‘He must have left early then?’

‘Quarter to seven. I couldn’t even entice him with some of Jackson’s famous French toast!’

Nicola pulled a face before taking a drink of her coffee. How anyone could pass on Jackson’s French toast, she’d never know. Even the smell of the cinnamon and egg toast was enough to make her stomach rumble whether she’d eaten breakfast at home or not.

‘Remember, we’ve got the staff meeting at the pub this lunchtime? You’ll come, won’t you?’ Laura looked at her, her eyes flickering with an emotion Nicola couldn’t pinpoint.

She swallowed. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be there.’

‘Good, good. Thanks.’ Laura picked up her mug again, cradling it in her hands. ‘I’m going to go and try to bake that fruitcake your mum gave me the recipe for. I say try, so I’ll apologise for the inevitable burning smell which will no doubt be coming from the kitchen in the next hour or so.’

Nicola smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll do just fine.’

‘I doubt it, but I’m determined to learn.’ Grimacing, she turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

Bringing her mug to her lips, Nicola took a long sip. Laura wouldn’t be trying to learn how to bake if she was just going to sell Pennycress Inn, would she? But if she wasn’t going to sell, then what else could the staff meeting be about?

13

‘Here we go. A selection of picky bits from our menu.’ Jackson unloaded the tray he was holding and placed four plates brimming with sandwiches, mozzarella sticks, delicately decorated slices of a variety of cakes and small cookies in the middle of the table.

‘Ooh yum. Thanks.’ Nicola picked up the stack of plates at the end of the pub table and passed one each to Laura and Jill.

The pub was busy. Her mum’s book club occupied three tables at the back of the pub, whilst the other tables were seated by groups of people either enjoying their lunch or chatting over an early pint or two. Nicola looked across at Laura, who was loading her plate with sandwiches and mozzarella sticks and Jill, who had bypassed the plate and was instead sinking her teeth into a chargrilled vegetable and hummus sandwich. She laughed as a courgette slice slipped from between the bread towards the table, only to be rescued deftly by Jill.

‘Now you have quick reflexes.’

Jill grinned and popped the courgette slice in her mouth. ‘That’s thanks to years of trying to stop the kids from dropping spaghetti hoops on the mother-in-law’s cream sofa.’

Laughing, Laura shook her head. ‘I can just picture you doing that.’

‘I still have no idea why she insists on not only feeding them something messy, like spaghetti hoops, but also letting them sit on the sofa while they eat it.’ Jill shook her head in disbelief. ‘I often wonder if she’s itching for one of them to spill something so she can make a claim on the house insurance.’

‘Oh, maybe.’ Laura took a sip of her orange juice.

‘Yes, it’s literally every single time we go round there. I mean, it’s not always spaghetti hoops. Last time, it was sticky chocolate cake; the time before, tomato soup.’ Jill rolled her eyes. ‘And the crazy thing is, the kids are happy sitting at the table. It’s not as though she’s giving in to a tantrum or anything.’

‘You’ll have to give them all bibs to wear.’ Laura laughed.

‘Good idea!’ Jill looked at Nicola, then nodded to the bar. ‘Isn’t that your farmer, Charlie?’

Twisting in her chair, Nicola looked across at the bar. Jill was right. Charlie was sitting there tucking into a sandwich, a stack of what looked to be paperwork of some kind placed on the bar next to him. She watched as he chatted to the bartender. Charlie seemed quite friendly, and whatever he was saying was making the bartender laugh. Huh, was it only her he reserved the grumpy demeanour for?

She turned back to Jill. ‘Yes, it’s Charlie, but he’s most definitely not “my” farmer and after the fiasco yesterday, I doubt very much he’ll ever speak to me again.’

‘Ah yes, Miss Cooke walked past the inn earlier and she stopped and chatted, as she does. She mentioned that a couple of the girls from the netball team took themselves on an adventure around the farm.’ Jill grimaced.

‘Yes, I thought he was going to pop a vein the way he was overreacting.’ Nicola picked up her sandwich again. ‘At least they got their trailer measurements for their float design, so hopefully we won’t have to bother him for a while now, not until closer to the carnival.’

‘Umm.’ Jill shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

‘What?’ Nicola groaned, unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer. ‘Please tell me Miss Cooke’s not planning on kidnapping me and forcing me to go along to the farm with the netball team again?’

‘No, no. They have their measurements, as you said.’

‘So…?’ There was something else; she could tell by the way Jill was averting her eyes. It was a habit she’d had since they’d been children. ‘Go on, hit me with it.’

‘I kind of need to pop along myself to take measurements from the other trailer he’s lending us.’ Jill glanced towards Charlie’s back. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t be kidnapping you or forcing you to come with me. In fact, I’ll ask him first. Give him some warning.’

‘Well, good luck. I don’t fancy your chances of him agreeing, if last night is anything to go by.’ Nicola sank her teeth into the sandwich. The sooner this carnival was over and done with, the better, as far as she was concerned.

‘Hey.’ Jackson arrived back at the table and passed around fresh drinks before sitting down next to Laura.

‘Hey, you.’ Laura grinned. ‘Are you free for a bit now?’

Glancing around the pub, Jackson nodded. ‘I should be, yes.’

Nicola watched as Laura took Jackson’s hand and squeezed it between their chairs. She lowered her sandwich to her plate. This was it. They were going to tell them they were closing Pennycress Inn.

‘We’ve got something to tell you both, and I wanted to come here for our staff meeting so Jackson could jump in too.’ Laura shifted in her chair again.

Nicola held her breath. If Laura did tell them they were closing, she would shortly be out of a job. She didn’t think she’d be able to keep it together. She’d likely break down in tears right here in the middle of the pub.

‘Jackson’s sold his house and…’ She looked at her fiancé before turning her attention back to Nicola and Jill. ‘He’s moving into Pennycress.’

Letting out a long breath, Nicola sighed with relief. ‘He’s moving in?’

‘Yes. The house will hopefully exchange in the next week or so and Jackson will move into the inn.’

‘Oh, I’m so happy for you both!’ Jill squealed and pushed her chair back, hurrying around to the other side of the table and giving both Laura and Jackson a huge hug.

‘Thank you.’ Laura grinned.

Nicola cleared her throat. ‘Yes, that’s great news! Sorry, I was convinced you were about to tell us you’d decided to sell up or something equally awful.’

‘Sell Pennycress? No chance.’ Laura reached across the table and squeezed Nicola’s hand. ‘I love it too much, and I love our team too.’

‘So do I.’ Standing up, Nicola hugged Jackson and Laura in turn. ‘You really had me worried, though!’

‘Aw no, nothing to worry about.’ Sitting back down, Laura grinned. ‘I’m hoping Pennycress will keep going from strength to strength.’

‘I’m sure it will.’ Nicola smiled as she watched her mum walk across the pub towards them. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from finding out what the staff meeting was about, especially as she’d known how worried Nicola had been.

‘Hello, you four. Are you enjoying your lunch?’ Vivienne placed her hands on Nicola’s shoulders.

‘Hi, Vivienne. All good thanks.’ Laura stood up to hug her. ‘In fact, Jackson and I have got some good news.’

‘You have?’ Vivienne smiled. ‘You’ve set a date for the wedding?’

‘Ah, no. Not yet.’ Laura laughed. ‘But Jackson is moving in with me, into Pennycress.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful news.’ Vivienne walked around to hug Jackson. ‘Congratulations, you two.’

‘Thank you, Vivienne. Are you joining us? I can get you another plate.’ Standing up, Jackson turned, ready to go to the bar.

‘No, no, I’m fine. Thank you, dear. I have my book club over there.’ Vivienne pointed to the table she’d come from. ‘In fact, I’d better get back and finish discussing the importance of the setting in the novel.’

‘Okay, well, lovely to see you.’ Laura grinned.

‘You too, dear. And congratulations again.’ Vivienne squeezed her daughter’s shoulder before retreating back to her book club.

‘Right, I’d better get back to work, too.’ Jackson watched as a new group of customers filtered through the door before leaning across and kissing Laura. ‘Catch you later.’

‘See you.’ Laura turned to Nicola and Jill. ‘I’ve been dying to tell you our news all week, but I really wanted Jackson to be here when I did.’

‘It’s really lovely news.’ Jill smiled. ‘And an important step in a relationship. Just make sure you set down the rules for him putting his dirty washing in the basket right away or you’ll end up like me, following Gerald around picking up shirt, trousers, socks and all sorts as he makes his way to the shower.’

‘Haha, I think we all know that Jackson is the tidy one out of the two of us,’ Laura laughed. ‘The most organised too, so I’m hoping some of that will rub off on me.’

‘Yes, well. He might just surprise you when he’s got comfortable.’ Jill grinned and picked up another sandwich. ‘Although, I must admit, I am rather jealous of the fact you’ll have a live-in chef. I might have to bring Gerald to work for a few weeks so Jackson can teach him!’

Nicola took another bite of her sandwich and reminded herself of the positives of living alone in an attempt to push away the feelings of loneliness gnawing at her – no unexpected washing appearing on the floors, she could cook and eat what she wanted when she wanted and, not to forget, she had full control of the TV remote. Yes, it had been a difficult transition to make after Nathan had left, but he had never been the easiest person to live with, and she needed to remember that. She needed to make the effort not to look back at their time together with rose-tinted glasses. She was better off now.

14

Stacking the plates at the side of the table, Nicola stood up. ‘Are you sure you’re happy with me going back home for a bit?’

‘Yes, absolutely. I’m going to hang around here for an hour or so anyway. Besides, we’ve got everything ready for our new guests tonight and we haven’t got any group bookings for tea or anything. Go and take a bit of time for yourself.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Nicola yawned. She knew exactly what she’d be doing after Trixie’s unwelcome wake-up call this morning: taking a nap. She turned to Jill. ‘Have a nice time at the choir’s show.’

‘Thanks.’ Jill checked her watch before standing up quickly. ‘Oops, I’d best be on my way before I miss the opening song.’

‘Bye.’ Laura waved before heading towards the bar.

Pulling open the heavy wooden door, Nicola stood back and let Jill through first before stepping out into the humid afternoon heat.

‘See you.’

‘Bye.’ Nicola watched as Jill hurried in the direction of the village hall before pulling her handbag up higher on her shoulder. She loved the summer. Memories of long summer days past at Pennycress Inn drifted to the forefront of her mind. The barbecues her mum would make for the guests as they enjoyed a lazy afternoon soaking up the sun’s rays in the garden and watching their children play on the rope swing hanging from the willow tree or chasing each other around the lawn. She grinned. They were good memories.

The shrill tune of her mobile sang through the street, and she pulled it from her handbag. Pausing, she frowned as she read Nathan’s name illuminating the screen. She didn’t really have anything to say to him. Not anything she hadn’t said before when she’d learned he’d defaulted on the car payments, anyway. She stared at it as it rang.

‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’

Jumping, Nicola spun around, almost dropping her phone as she came face to face with the last person she’d hoped to see – Farmer Grumpy. And, yes, she’d reverted to calling him that again after last night’s disastrous visit to the farm. ‘Charlie.’

‘Afternoon.’ He gave a small half-smile as he hitched the bundle of paperwork higher beneath his arm. ‘Can I walk with you?’

Nicola watched as Nathan’s name disappeared. He must have hung up. ‘Yes, I guess so.’

Charlie nodded as they began walking again. ‘The food is good in the pub.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Was that why he wanted to walk with her? To discuss the pub food? Yes, his farm was past her house, so they’d be walking in the same direction, but why hadn’t he just waited a few minutes? At least that way they wouldn’t be forced to make small talk about the lunch they’d just eaten. She was surprised he even wanted to walk with her, after the mood he was in last night. She slumped her shoulders as her mobile lit up again, Nathan’s name once more dancing across the screen.

‘Ouch. Still not going to answer?’ He nodded to the phone.

‘No.’ She hit the End Call button this time. Hopefully that would make it crystal clear to Nathan that she had nothing more to say to him. Without a second’s pause, she dropped it back into her handbag. Glancing across at Charlie, she caught him looking at her. She needed to say something about what had happened yesterday, to clear the air if she could. She certainly didn’t want to be walking in an awkward silence with him all the way home. ‘I really am sorry about what happened at the farm yesterday. It was inexcusable. I should have made sure no one walked off.’

He rubbed his palm across his face. ‘That was hardly your fault.’

‘It wasn’t?’ She turned, startled by his acceptance. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she’d assumed he was still holding a grudge and hoping to milk another apology from her.

‘Unless you’re a netball coach, that is?’ He eyed her sideways.

‘Definitely not a netball coach. You can ask Miss Cooke to verify that, if you like. She still remembers my failed attempt at trying out for the team when I was a kid.’

Charlie chuckled. An unexpected sound Nicola hadn’t heard before, which was strange but oddly pleasing in a way.

‘So, umm, why did you want to walk with me? Or did you just happen to come out of the pub at the same time as me?’ She fiddled with the zip on her handbag as she walked. Should she have asked him? She could have just accepted it was a twist of fate that had them both walking in the same direction at the same time, but she had the distinct feeling it had been planned, and if so, she’d rather get whatever he wanted to complain about out in the open quickly so she could hurry up and get home for her nap.

‘Ah, there’s no pulling the wool over your eyes, is there?’ He glanced down at the pavement.

She looked across at him and held her hands up, palms forward, defending herself. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve decided not to help out with the carnival after all?’

He chuckled softly. ‘No, I’ve not decided to relinquish you the promise of borrowing my tractors and trailers. I do, however, feel I need to apologise.’

Halting in her tracks, Nicola stared at him. She might have only known him a few days, but she felt she knew him enough to realise this was uncharacteristic for him.

‘Don’t look so shocked. I admit I have been a little preoccupied these past, well, months, since learning I’d inherited the farm, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.’

‘Which time?’ she said, then grimaced. He was trying to be sincere, trying to apologise, and here she was just being sarcastic. ‘Sorry, I…’

‘No, it’s a fair comment.’ He stopped too.

‘How is it going? The farm, I mean?’ She began walking again. ‘I take it you’re not a farmer by trade? Not in your real life, anyway.’

‘My real life.’ He fell into step with her. ‘That’s one way of putting it. No, the last time I even stepped onto farmland would have been over twenty-five years ago when I last visited my uncle at Little Mead.’

‘Wow, you’ve not been on a farm in twenty-five years and yet now you’re running one?’ She raised her eyebrows. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

‘That’s right.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Of course, the farmhands have taught me a lot – are still teaching me a lot. After all, they’re the experts and I’m just a city boy in foreign territory.’

A city boy? Looking at him walking next to her wearing jeans and a checked shirt, she couldn’t imagine him in a suit. ‘You work in London then? When you’re not inheriting farms?’

‘That’s right. Although I don’t know about farms. I think this will be the only one I inherit.’

‘Hmm, no wonder you want to sell up so quickly. Meadowfield is definitely not London.’

‘No, it sure isn’t.’ He looked around the street as they passed the Cotswold stone cottages and herb filled gardens. ‘It has a certain charm to it that the city doesn’t, though.’

Nicola smiled. She’d been to London, mostly with work but also on day trips, over the years and although it never failed to give her that excitable buzz, she was always glad to come home again.

‘And your job has kept your position open? While you get the farm ready to sell?’

‘That’s right.’ He leaned in towards her, lowering his voice in conspiracy. ‘One of the perks of being the big boss.’

She widened her eyes. He was the big boss in London? ‘Huh, that explains why you don’t like people ordering you around, then. You’re used to doing the ordering.’

A low chuckle filled the street, and he ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I guess that could explain things, yes.’

She glanced at him as they fell into an easy silence. The crease in his forehead suggested he was lost in his thoughts as they made their way through Meadowfield. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat. ‘I am sorry about your uncle. He was a good man. I remember spending much of my summer holidays over at his farm, hanging out with my friends in the orchard, or collecting eggs from the hens to take home to my mum.’

A sad smile crossed his features. ‘I wish I’d known him. I was just a child when my parents divorced and me and my mum moved up north. I often wished I could visit, but you know how it is, one side of the family tends to drop off the other side of the earth.’

‘Oh.’ With it always being just her and her mum, she’d never experienced that. Yes, she’d often wished for a dad who wanted to be in her life, but maybe it had been a blessing in disguise him leaving her mum when they’d found out Nicola was on her way. After all, it didn’t sound as though Charlie’s childhood had been much fun with his parents splitting up when he was a child.

‘Not that I’m blaming my uncle. Far from it. My dad should have made sure I was still part of the wider family instead of just visiting a couple of times a month if I was lucky.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry, I’m not being very upbeat, am I? I just don’t want you thinking my lack of presence in Meadowfield had anything to do with my uncle. It didn’t. From what I remember when I visited before my parents split, he was a kind-hearted man.’

‘Yes, he was.’ She paused, waiting for him to stop too, before she wrapped her arms around him. After standing there for a few seconds, she finally felt his shoulders relax and his arms reach around her too. She wasn’t really sure why she’d done it, but he’d looked so distant, so preoccupied, and she’d just wanted to make him feel better. Stepping back, she glanced down at the pavement. ‘Sorry, I just thought you looked sad.’

‘Don’t apologise. I could actually do with a proper hug.’ He smiled, his face relaxing as he held his arms out towards her.

Stepping into his space once again, she felt her own shoulders relax as his arms wrapped around her. This was one thing Nathan had never been any good at. Giving hugs. Nope, he’d much rather flop on the sofa with a beer can than show her any affection whatsoever. Of course, she now knew why. Nicola sighed as she felt the reassuring weight of Charlie’s arms around her shoulders. She’d missed this.

‘Much better.’ He grinned as he dropped his arms and continued walking. ‘Thank you.’

‘No worries.’ Looking away, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he wasn’t who she’d thought he was. There was a softer side beneath the prickly exterior.

15

As Nicola fell into step beside Charlie, they continued to make their way down the street, passing the quaint yellow Cotswold stone cottages on either side. She glanced across at him. That hug had felt good. Really good.

Shaking her head, she cleared her throat. It had just been a hug. Nothing more. Nothing less.

‘So, it was a bit of a surprise finding out you’d inherited your uncle’s farm then?’ she asked.

‘Now that’s an understatement.’ Charlie ran his palm across his face, as if thinking twice about what he was going to say. ‘I must admit, when I first came here, I’d planned to put it straight on the market. I hadn’t planned to stay for any length of time.’

‘You’re having second thoughts about selling?’ She looked sidelong at him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he hung around.

‘No, no. But when I saw the place and saw how run-down it had become, I knew I needed to bring it back to how it used to be. Something my uncle would be proud of again. So, I arranged a secondment from work, employed a couple of experienced farmhands and here we are. Another few weeks and it’ll be back to its glory days and I can sell it on knowing my uncle would be proud of it.’

‘Oh.’ Nicola wrapped her arms around her middle. Why did her stomach feel as though a heavy stone had appeared, sitting lurking at the bottom of it? She’d never wanted to see Charlie Williams again the first time she’d set eyes on him, but, despite his flaws and the way he’d behaved, she was warming to him.

‘It’s important to me that it’s passed on to the next owners in good condition. That way, hopefully they won’t need to change much. They won’t come in and destroy all he’d worked for.’

‘I guess you’ve just got to hope a big developer doesn’t want to build a new housing estate on the land.’

Charlie winced. He took a deep breath in. ‘No, I’ll vet whoever puts an offer in. I’ll do my research.’

‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded. She couldn’t very well turn around and tell him that might not work, that those developers might not advertise themselves as such. She paused as they reached the junction out of the village and pointed towards The Twistle. ‘This is me.’

‘I’ll walk you to your door.’ He patted his stomach. ‘I could do with the exercise.’

She smiled, a strange warmth running across her skin. Being a farmer, even if just temporarily, must be one of the most active jobs there was about.

‘So, tell me about you. Have you always lived in Meadowfield?’ Cupping her elbow, Charlie gently guided her towards the other side of the road as a car turned into the village.

‘Most of my life, yes.’ Nicola nodded. ‘I went off to uni, studied in Birmingham, and despite being tempted by city living, once I’d finished, I moved back.’ She looked around her, taking in the quirky cottages, the trees lining the pavements and the surrounding countryside.

‘You weren’t that tempted then.’

‘At first I was, but the longer I stayed there, the more I wanted to return to Meadowfield. There’s just something about this place for me. And it was calling me home.’ She scrunched her nose up. ‘Now that sounds corny as anything, doesn’t it?’

‘No.’ He tilted his head one way and then the other before chuckling. ‘Maybe a little.’

‘It’s true though. I loved growing up here and because my mum ran the inn and we lived there too, I think of the whole community as a big extended family, I guess.’ She held her hand over her face. ‘That sounds even cornier.’

‘I didn’t realise you grew up at Pennycress Inn. That must be strange, working back there?’ Pausing, he reached over and gently prised her hand away. ‘And yes, what you said does sound corny, but it’s sweet too.’

‘It is strange in a way, but I couldn’t have asked for a better job, and working back in the inn I was raised in… I love it.’ Sweet? He’d said sweet. She looked across at him, her hand still in his, and grinned. If someone had told her a few days ago that she’d be having these mixed feelings about the guy who had shut her down after asking a favour for the village, she’d have never believed them.

‘Nic! There you are!’

She recognised that voice. Jumping back from Charlie, she turned and watched in stunned silence as Nathan stormed down the street towards them. What was he doing here? She hadn’t thought she’d hear from him again since the night she rang him asking what was happening with her car.

‘I’ve rung you, like, ten times already and you’ve just been ignoring me.’ Nathan’s tone was angry. As he got closer, Nicola could see spittle flying from his mouth as he ranted. ‘Do you make a habit of ignoring your phone now?’

‘Nathan, I⁠—’

‘And who’s this?’ Nathan stuck his arm out to indicate Charlie.

Looking between the two men, Nicola could see the muscle in Charlie’s jaw jump as he glared at Nathan. Turning back to her ex, she held up her hand, palm forward, and, trying hard to keep her voice calm to defuse the situation, she asked him, ‘What’s wrong? Why have you been calling me?’

After glaring back at Charlie, Nathan turned his attention to Nicola again. ‘You’d know why if you’d answered your phone.’

Charlie stepped forward, so he was standing between Nicola and Nathan. ‘I think⁠—’

‘It’s okay, Charlie. You get off, I’ll be okay.’ Reaching out, she rubbed his arm and nodded.

‘Are you sure?’ Charlie searched her face, concern etched across his forehead.

‘Yes, honestly. It’ll be okay.’ Pasting a smile to her face, she willed him to leave. Nathan was riled up, and she didn’t fancy being referee to a boxing match even if she was pretty sure Charlie could hold his own.

‘Okay, any problems, just shout.’ Looking between Nicola and Nathan again, Charlie finally relented, nodded and began walking away, throwing a look over his shoulder as he did so.

‘Thank you,’ Nicola called after him before turning back to Nathan. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’m moving back home.’ His voice was deadpan, his expression serious.

‘You what?’ Feeling a flash of frustration towards Nathan that he’d potentially interrupted something, she flared her nostrils.

‘Just that. I’m moving back home. I’ve got my things in my car and I’m moving back in.’ He began strolling towards the cottage.

Squeezing her hand around her front door keys in her pocket, Nicola was grateful she’d made the decision to change the locks when she’d thrown him out. ‘You’re not doing that.’

‘Yes, I am.’ He glanced behind him, ushering her forward.

Standing her ground, she repeated herself, her voice firm. ‘You’re not coming back to my home. You’re not moving back in.’

‘I have every right…’

‘What happened to Kerry? Trouble in paradise?’ Pursing her lips, Nicola tried her best not to smirk. She was past wishing ill on him, but five months ago he had broken her heart and there was still a tiny part of her that did hope he would receive a little karma. Not that she’d ever admit that to him. Or anyone else, for that matter.

‘She dumped me,’ he mumbled as he strode forward.

‘Pardon?’ She raised her eyebrows. So, after all the heartbreak both he and Kerry had put her through, their sordid relationship had lasted a grand total of five months. Well, five months of him being in a relationship of two, not three, that was. She was tempted to ask him if it was worth it – the pain he’d inflicted on her, the upheaval, the loss of his best marketing team member – but she refrained.

‘You heard. We’re over, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Still, she stayed rooted to the spot.

‘Are you coming, or shall I let myself in?’ He held his arms open as if shocked she wasn’t following him. He’d already tried letting himself in, she knew that. He wouldn’t have been ringing her or running around the village looking for her if he hadn’t. He’d have been thrilled at the idea of settling back in and waiting for her to come home before she knew anything about it.

Taking a deep breath, Nicola turned and began walking away. She didn’t need her nap. She’d head back to work.

‘I think you’re forgetting one thing, Nic.’

Slowly, she turned. The smugness was apparent in his voice and she refrained to give him the satisfaction of correcting him and telling him, once again, that he’d lost the right to call her by her nickname. ‘What am I forgetting?’

‘That I’m still on the tenancy agreement and there’s nothing you can do. In fact, you changing the locks will probably be against the terms.’

Biting down on her bottom lip, she looked at him. He was lying. The telltale way his right eye twitched as he spoke, the sheen of sweat on his forehead. She’d only worked it out, that they were signs of his lying, when she’d caught him and Kerry having that candlelit dinner in the cottage. In their cottage. He’d denied the fact he’d been cheating, and she’d noticed the sweat and the eye twitch as Kerry had contradicted him, admitted how long the affair had been going on.

And now he was lying to her. Again.

Without wasting another word on him, Nicola turned again and headed back to the centre of the village. She was pretty sure her landlady wouldn’t care that she’d changed the locks and, as for Nathan moving back in, well, he’d already screwed with his credit score by defaulting on the payments on her car.

‘Nic. Nic!’

It took all her self-control to ignore him, to ignore the fact he kept calling her Nic, to ignore his self-entitlement. How dare he think he could just waltz back into her life, into her cottage, her sanctuary and, what? Expect life to resume where he’d left off?

Keep walking. Just keep walking. And that’s what she did. By the time Pennycress Inn was in sight, Nathan had given up and slinked back to his car.

16

‘Oh, these look lovely!’ Suzy turned to her fiancé, Owen, and ran her finger across the pale pink rose in the centrepiece.

‘They’re adorable, aren’t they?’ Nicola smiled as she admired the pastel roses encircled by muted green foliage. After yesterday’s drama with Nathan, she was glad to have something nice to focus on this morning.

‘They really are.’ Suzy leaned her head against Owen’s chest.

‘So you’re happy for me to go ahead and order them for each of the tables for the wedding reception?’ This was the first Pennycress wedding since Laura had bought the inn and, with Laura busy with other wedding preparations, Nicola was eager not to mess this up. She looked at the three table centrepieces she’d ordered from Fleur’s Flower Shop in Nettleford and smiled. Each of them was exquisite in their own way, but she’d have bet money on Suzy and Owen choosing the one Suzy was currently gushing over.

‘Absolutely!’ Suzy looked up at Owen. ‘I wonder if we can incorporate this colour scheme into something to go along the handrail of the decking?’

‘We could look into it for you?’ Nicola scribbled in her notebook. ‘I can speak to Fleur and confirm your choices for the centrepieces and then ask if she could recommend something for the decking.’

‘Yes, please.’ Suzy checked her watch before widening her eyes and turning to Owen. ‘We need to get going. We’ll be late for the dress fitting otherwise.’

Owen nodded as he pushed back his chair. ‘Thank you, Nicola.’

‘Yes, thank you so much! I can’t wait until next Saturday.’ Suzy grinned, gave Nicola a quick shoulder hug and slipped her hand into her fiancé’s before they rushed from the kitchen.

Pulling the chosen centrepiece towards her, Nicola slowly turned it, looking at it from all directions. Suzy was right; it was stunning and would look just perfect on the pale pink tablecloths the soon-to-be happy couple had chosen for the tables they were hiring for the garden. It might have even been something she’d have chosen for her and Nathan’s wedding.

‘You look deep in thought.’ Laura set two bulging canvas bags on the table and looked around. ‘Have I missed Suzy and Owen?’

‘Yes, only just though. They’ve literally walked out of the door this minute.’ Standing up, Nicola peered inside the bags. ‘You managed to catch the carpenter at the craft fair then?’

‘I did indeed.’ Grinning, Laura began pulling out decorations for the upcoming wedding, each as whimsical and as magical as the centrepieces. Once she’d placed the last item from the bag onto the table – a beautiful white wooden heart – she stood back. ‘How gorgeous are they? And they’re all handmade and hand painted.’

‘They are lovely. You were lucky you got to the craft fair early enough to get them before they ran out again.’ Nicola ran her finger over a cluster of small heart silhouettes.

Laura nodded. ‘I feel bad not being here to see Suzy and Owen, but if I’d gone any later, I wouldn’t have managed to get these and you’ve been speaking to Fleur about their wedding flowers, anyway.’

‘Don’t worry, they were fine. Super excited for next weekend though, as you can imagine.’ Nicola laughed. When Suzy and Owen had first looked around the inn as a potential wedding reception venue, Suzy had been beside herself. They’d been looking for a classic country venue and had both exclaimed that Pennycress was the perfect place the moment they’d stepped inside the gate. Nicola hadn’t thought it was possible Suzy could be even more excited. How wrong she’d been.

‘I just hope it doesn’t rain.’ Laura looked out of the glass French doors and grimaced at the bright sunshine.

‘It won’t. And if it does, Jill is on standby with the marquee the community hub uses for the summer fayre. It’s all good. We’ve got it covered.’ Nicola smiled at her. She could understand why she was so worried about the wedding – it was the biggest event the inn had held since Laura had bought the place – but Suzy and Owen had specifically chosen Pennycress for its charm, they didn’t want flash or perfect, they craved something much more intimate and real. And they knew the risks the weather posed. Suzy’s reaction when Laura had voiced her concerns was to simply answer that at least it would be memorable.

Slumping into the chair opposite Nicola, Laura rubbed her temples. ‘I know. It’ll be fine.’

‘It really will be.’ Nicola reached across and took Laura’s hand. ‘Suzy and Owen are lovely people and all they want is to get married and have their families back to Pennycress to celebrate. And that’s what’s going to happen.’

‘Yes.’ Laura nodded, more for her own benefit than Nicola’s.

‘And they’ll be blown away by Jackson’s menu.’ Nicola flicked through the wedding planning notebook and tapped the page Jackson had scribbled the menu on.

‘They definitely will be, yes.’ This brought a smile to Laura’s face, her shoulders relaxing. ‘He’s popping back between lunch and dinner at the pub tomorrow to trial the vegan options.’

‘Jackfruit and roasted vegetable tart,’ Nicola read. ‘Yum, sounds good and I’m not even a vegan.’

‘It does sound nice, doesn’t it? Well, hopefully we can both be his guinea pigs tomorrow afternoon.’ Laura looked towards the hallway as the happy tune of the doorbell filled the air. ‘I’ll pop and see who that is.’

‘Okay. I’ll just finish making these notes and then ring Fleur.’ Carefully sliding the newly bought decorations to the side, Nicola picked up her pen again.

Moments later Laura peered through the doorway and raised her eyebrows. ‘Nic, it’s someone for you.’

‘Who is it?’ Nicola mouthed as she stood up.

Laura glanced quickly over her shoulder before looking back and mouthing, ‘The farmer.’

Charlie? A sweep of heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered the moment in the street earlier. His hand touching hers… She shook her head. It didn’t mean anything. The guy blew hot and cold more frequently than a blowtorch. In fact, he’d more than likely resumed his grumpy demeanour by now. She glanced at her watch. She’d been back at Pennycress for over three hours now, plenty of time for him to regulate his emotions again.

Standing up, she walked across to the doorway into the hallway, Laura giving her a look as she moved past her which said she wanted to know all the details once he’d gone. Nicola nodded slightly at her before turning to Charlie, who was standing by the reception desk. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey, I just wanted to pop by and check if everything was okay after your… err… chat with whoever that guy was.’ He glanced down at the oak floorboards beneath his feet before meeting her eyes.

‘Ah, yes. Sorry about that.’ She smiled. This was unexpected. She hadn’t seen this side to him before. Yes, he’d helped her after her fall and he’d fixed up her bike, but now he’d gone out of his way to pop by and check on her. And he almost looked nervous with it, too. Slipping behind the reception desk, Nicola picked up a pen, twisting it through her fingers. ‘You were lucky enough to meet my delightful ex.’

‘Nice.’ He nodded slowly, a look of confusion sweeping across his features.

Shifting on her feet, Nicola watched as he rubbed the back of his neck. She knew there wasn’t anything between them. The hand holding and the hugs, well, that had just been it, just someone helping someone out, reassuring her and getting caught up in the moment. She might have even forced it. What if he’d wanted to let go, and she’d just stood there, frozen to the spot? She swallowed. She’d let her thoughts run away with her. What would someone like Charlie want with her, anyway? And if he had, even for a slight second, wanted something more, Nathan had just put the dampeners on that.

‘Are you okay, though?’ He placed his hands on the desk between them.

Forcing a tight smile, Nicola nodded. She tried to fill her voice with more hope than she felt. She hadn’t heard from Nathan since the altercation, so she presumed he’d either slunk back to Kerry or else was sleeping on a friend’s sofa. Wherever he was there was one thing she was certain about though and that was she wouldn’t be letting him back into the cottage. No chance. ‘Yes, all good, thanks. Hopefully, he won’t be back round again.’

He grinned. ‘That’s good then. In that case, I wondered if I could ask you to help me with something this evening at the farm?’

Nicola widened her eyes. What could she possibly help him with? Did he think that because she was born and bred here in the countryside, she knew one end of a plough from the other? ‘You want me to help you with something?’

‘Yes. I’ve had an idea – probably a really stupid one – but I thought I’d give it a shot, anyway.’ He looked down and picked at a loose thread on his checked flannel shirt.

Tilting her head, Nicola smiled. He was nervous. ‘Go on then, what is it? And just for the record, I very much doubt it’s a stupid idea.’

Looking across at her, he caught her eye and smiled. ‘You’ve not heard it yet.’

‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me!’ She placed the pen back in the pot and leaned forward slightly, willing him to come out and tell her what it was he needed help with. She certainly couldn’t imagine any idea of his to be daft. He worked in the city and was now basically running a farm – a skill he hadn’t had up until a few months ago.

‘Okay.’ Taking a deep breath, he stood slightly back and shoved his hands in his pockets, a stance she could imagine he would take when addressing his colleagues in the city. Of course, the faded flannel shirt was a stark contrast to the suits she guessed he wore to work, which gave him an adorable edge.

She leaned back quickly as she felt a jolt of surprise. She’d thought of him as adorable. Charlie. Adorable. She held the pads of her forefinger and thumb against her temples as though she were trying to soothe a headache. Headache or not, something wasn’t right.

‘I would like to take a recording of the farm, a snapshot of life at Little Mead, so to speak. Just something to pass down to any family I may or may not have in the future.’

Nicola felt a warmth in her chest. Charlie was a good person. No, he wasn’t keeping the farm, but he still wanted his uncle’s legacy and hard work to live on, even if that was only through a screen. ‘Oh, I think that’s a wonderful idea.’

‘You do?’ He stepped back to the counter, laying his fingers on the desktop.

‘Absolutely! I know you don’t want to move and live on the farm, but the video will be a reminder of what your uncle and your ancestors before him achieved.’ She reached out and touched the soft material of the shirt covering his arm. ‘It’s a really lovely idea.’

‘Thanks. So, I just wondered – if you’re free, of course – if you’d be able to come and play at being my cinematographer?’

‘Ha, I’ve no idea what one of them is, but I’m guessing it’s the person holding the camera, in which case, yes, I’d love to.’ Pulling her hand away, she smiled. ‘I can pop over after work if you want to get it done soon?’

‘Yes, that would be perfect. I’ll pick you up though, it will save you cycling.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m happy cycling.’ Nicola grinned. She was actually looking forward to this, a chance to explore the farm, but more specifically the opportunity to spend more time with Charlie.

17

Sticking her foot down, Nicola rested the bike against her and leaned her arms on the handlebars. Why had she refused a lift to Little Mead? If she hadn’t, she’d have been travelling in Charlie’s air-conditioned truck right now rather than huffing and puffing up the hill towards the farm. She lifted her arm and sniffed, relieved that despite the summer heat, her antiperspirant was holding up.

Nicola looked ahead again. She didn’t have far. Well, not too far anyway, not for someone used to riding a bike or doing any exercise above walking to work or the village centre.

She took a deep breath in and began pedalling again. There was one thing she might end up being grateful to Nathan for – and that was saying something – and that would be her getting fit. Although she was still kicking herself for not accepting Charlie’s offer of a lift. However much she liked the idea of cycling, even after her accident, the reality was very different.

Yes! As she cycled around the curve in the road, the farm came into view in all its beautiful glory. A place where she would be able to catch her breath, a place where she could rest her legs, a place where she’d be able to spend some time with Charlie.

Braking hard, she steadied herself. Nicola brought her hands up to her face and brushed her sticky hair back from her forehead. She must look a right state. She felt as though she’d lost ten pints in sweat, the nagging pain of muscles being used for something they weren’t used to coursing through her limbs, and she was sure her make-up had all but slid off her face.

She couldn’t see Charlie like this.

Not that she cared.

She ran the pad of her finger across the grooves of the handlebar grips. She didn’t care what he thought of her, and he didn’t care either. She was just going to the farm to help him out and the only reason he’d asked her and not anyone else was because the only people she was aware of him really spending any time with from the village was herself and Miss Cooke, and he probably wouldn’t have fancied his chances of asking Miss Cooke for a favour after the way he’d spoken to her.

Yes, that was why she was here. Just because she was the only local person he could really ask. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to see her again.

An image of his hand on hers and the way her skin had tingled when he’d pulled his hand away filled her mind. What if…?

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nicola shook her head. Even if there had been something there, in that fleeting moment before Nathan had strode up to them, Charlie would be scared off by the interfering ex. Everyone knew men didn’t like drama and Charlie would be no exception, whether the said drama had been caused by her or not.

Still, she would feel better if she gave herself a few moments to cool down. And check her appearance. Leaning down at an uncomfortable angle, she eyed her reflection in the small circular pink plastic-backed mirror attached to the handlebar next to the pink tassels. Grateful to her teenage self for customising her bike with such a useful accessory, she smoothed down her hair and patted her forehead dry of sweat with the edge of her T-shirt.

That would have to do. Even the best make-up artists with the best artistry skills and powder would struggle transforming her into the belle of the ball, so her slightly blushed cheeks and damp hairline would have to do.

She pushed off again, this time cycling the remaining metres at a slower pace so as not to arrive breathless with a face the colour of roasted beetroot.

Just as she turned onto the bumpy track before the farmyard, Charlie appeared, waving at her, and unlatched the gate, swinging it open to let her through.

Trying her best to smile back despite focusing on not disappearing down the various-sized potholes in the ground, she slowed to a stop and dismounted before pushing the bike through the gate.

‘Hi, thanks so much for this.’ He swung the heavy metal gate closed behind her.

‘No problem,’ she answered quickly between breaths, hoping he wouldn’t notice how unfit she was.

‘Shall we grab a drink before we begin?’ Charlie pointed towards the farmhouse to the right.

‘A drink sounds good.’ There was no denying she was parched but was he only suggesting a drink because she was so unfit and looked as though she might spontaneously combust? She looked away, discreetly wiping fresh sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand before turning to face him again. ‘Maybe we should take a bit of time to plan out what you want from this video, too? Such as where we’ll go and what you want to tell me… I mean, your future family about, things like that?’

Charlie nodded, suddenly deep in thought. ‘At least one of us knows what we’re doing.’

Nicola laughed. ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that, but I did do something similar with Laura when I first started working at the inn, sort of a virtual tour of Pennycress to go on the website and social media sites.’

‘Like I said, one of us knows what they’re doing.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m not very good in front of a camera, or behind one for that matter, but I’ll give it my best shot.’

‘You’ll be great. I’m sure of it.’ Nicola began following him across to the farmhouse, the hens suddenly realising she’d arrived and hurrying out from wherever they’d been hiding to peck around their feet. She watched as he glanced back at her before matching her pace. She couldn’t imagine him not being very good in front of a camera. He oozed confidence – or he had before. Now he did seem a little nervous, just like at the inn when he’d asked her to come over.

18

‘Charlie.’ Nicola lowered Charlie’s mobile she was filming him on and looked over at him.

‘Yes?’ Peering down from where he was sitting in the cab of the tractor, Charlie frowned. ‘Should I say it again?’

‘Maybe. But how about trying to smile this time?’ She tried to stop the corners of her lips twitching, which was an almost impossible task. She’d followed Charlie from the front gate to the big barn and now out to the wheat field, and in none of the snippets of video she’d taken had he smiled once.

‘You think I’m being too serious?’ He ran his hand over his face.

‘Umm, I think it looks like you’re trying to sell life insurance rather than show your future children and grandchildren your uncle’s farm.’ Had that been too harsh? She didn’t want him to give up completely, but on the other hand, she didn’t want them to get to the end of the tour of the farm and him not to be happy with what they’d accomplished.

‘I don’t know if I can.’ He grimaced.

‘Just try to act naturally and lighten up. Maybe pretend you’re in a work meeting.’ She held the phone up again, her finger poised over the record button.

‘I work in finance. It’s not exactly a fun subject matter.’

Hmm, she could imagine how fun those meetings would be. ‘Okay, well, pretend you’re just speaking to a friend. Pretend you’re speaking to me, telling me about the farm.’ She pressed record.

‘So we’re friends then, are we?’ With his hand on the edge of the tractor cab, he jumped down onto the step, pausing there for a moment. His mouth curling at the edges. Was he trying not to laugh at her?

‘Well, I…’ What was he implying? That she was just someone who had begged him to help with the carnival? Someone who he happened to know from the village who could help him with creating these lasting memories of the farm? Were they just acquaintances? Is that how he saw them? She shrugged. ‘Okay, acquaintances, then. Just pretend you’re talking to a total stranger if you like. It doesn’t matter, just try to seem a bit… happier.’

He ran his free hand across the back of his neck before jumping down from the tractor step. ‘Right, okay. Let’s try again.’

She nodded, forcing a smile. What had she been thinking? Yes, he’d touched her hand and hugged her; yes, he’d fixed her bike; and yes, he’d come to check up on her after the altercation with Nathan. It didn’t mean anything, though.

She focused on the phone screen again, waiting for him to take his position in front of her before restarting the recording. ‘Three, two, one. Take two.’

‘More like Take two hundred and two,’ he muttered before plastering a huge fake smile on his face.

Sniggering, she ended the recording. ‘You can’t do that, mutter things and look super grumpy before pulling a face like that.’

He frowned, the smile disappearing. ‘A face like what?’

‘Your smile! It’s fake – like too fake.’ She grinned.

‘Too fake? So a little fake is okay?’ Charlie came towards her and indicated the phone, waiting until Nicola had played the video back. ‘Ouch. I see what you mean.’

‘Sorry, I don’t want to offend you, but if this is going to be something you show your future kids and grandkids, don’t you want it to look genuine? I know you hate the farm and can’t wait to get it off your hands but…’ Her voice faltered as she looked at him intently, trying to figure out if she’d offended him.

‘You’re right.’ He nodded.

‘So, loosen up and we’ll try again, okay?’

‘Yep. Loosen up. How hard can that be?’ Relaxing his shoulders, he began tensing and untensing his fists before wriggling his fingers and waving his arms about.

Throwing her head back, Nicola laughed. When she’d first met him, she’d never have thought he’d be standing in front of her right now, acting all goofy.

‘Is that better?’ Bringing his arms to his sides again, he grinned. A real grin this time, one which lit up his eyes and deepened the faint laughter lines around his eyes. The lines Nicola hadn’t been sure were due to frowning or smiling.

‘Much better.’ Nicola gave him the thumbs up and held the phone up again. She’d lost count of the take number. ‘Three, two, one, go.’

‘Hey, so here we have the wheat field where wheat is grown…’ He floundered for a few moments before smiling again and continuing.

Nicola grinned as she followed him around the field and then again as they returned to the tractor. He was much more relaxed now. She pushed the thought of him questioning their friendship to the back of her mind. It didn’t matter how he saw her, she was just doing him a favour, and she was happy to. She was having fun after all and anything to keep her mind off Nathan and him chancing it to weasel his way back into the cottage only had to be a good thing, didn’t it?

* * *

‘Here you go, my famous hot chocolate.’ Charlie passed Nicola a mug before sitting down next to her on the large log in front of the campfire he’d lit after they’d finally finished shooting the tour of the farm.

‘Thank you.’ Taking the mug, she wrapped her arms around it, suddenly feeling a slight chill in the air despite the heat radiating off the fire. ‘Famous, you say? That’s humble.’

‘Haha, not my words.’ He took a sip, leaving a hot chocolate moustache across the stubble above his lip.

‘You have…’ She pointed to her own lip.

‘Oh, thanks.’ Chuckling, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

‘Okay, here goes. You have a lot to live up to a lot with a claim like that.’ She grinned before taking a sip of the drink, the rich, creamy chocolate flavour filling her senses. ‘Oooh, that’s delicious.’

‘Told you.’ He sighed. ‘Thank you for this evening and for helping me with the video. I probably never would have actually got around to doing it if you hadn’t helped, not to mention that it would have turned out shockingly awful.’

‘Aw, you’re welcome. It was fun.’ She took another sip of the drink. He was a man of hidden talents. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course. Ask away.’ After placing his mug on the ground, he picked up a stick from beside him and skewered a huge marshmallow on it before passing it across to her and repeating the process for himself.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the stick, she held the marshmallow over the flames in front of them, listening to it fizzle as it heated. Did she dare ask him this? Was it too a personal question? ‘When you were talking about the farm for the video, you spoke with passion, as though you loved the place – the farm, I mean.’

‘That’s because I do. It may have been years since I last visited, but the memories I hold of this place and Meadowfield are good ones.’ He looked around him, taking in the fields surrounding the grassy area they were sitting in behind the farmhouse. ‘Really good ones. Memories I’ll forever hold close.’

She shifted position, bringing her marshmallow, the fluffy sweet now charred, from the fire towards her and picked a little of the burnt pieces off, rolling it between her finger and thumb. ‘Then why are you selling?’

Charlie sighed, staring at the fire as the flames danced in the dim evening light. ‘Now that’s a tough question.’

She scrunched her nose up. ‘You did say I could ask you anything.’

‘I know.’ Rubbing his hand over his face, his skin coursed against his stubble. ‘It’s not so easy to relocate, just like that, is it?’

‘I can imagine it would be difficult. Not impossible though, if that’s what you wanted to do.’ She spoke quietly. She could see from the glazed expression in his eyes he was still thinking about how to answer her.

‘No, not impossible.’ He took a deep breath in and straightened his back, holding his own marshmallow away from the fire. ‘I have a life back in London. A life I love, the freedom I’ve always wanted. And a damn good job, too. One I’ve worked hard for and dedicated my entire adult life to. I can’t uproot and move on a whim.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She nodded. That made sense. Of course, he couldn’t just jump ship and move. Not many people would be able to if they were in the same situation.

‘It sounds shallow, doesn’t it?’

‘What? No, of course not. Why would it sound shallow?’ She frowned as she looked across at him. He felt guilty for not taking over the farm. That much was evident.

‘Because I’m choosing my own life over something my uncle, my grandad and his dad and grandad before him built for us. The family farm stops here. With me.’ He closed his eyes momentarily.

‘Hey, it’s not shallow, not at all, and nobody would think any such thing.’ Carefully placing her mug on a nook in the log next to her, she slid across closer to him and laid her hand on his forearm. ‘Look at me.’

Charlie turned, a furrow forming in his brow.

‘Your uncle was a brilliant man. He cared for others so, so much. He gave back to the community by helping to found the carnival, he let local residents into the orchard to help themselves to apples, he didn’t bat an eyelid when me, my friends or the other kids from Meadowfield hung around in the orchard or hay fields. I’m sure he’s the last person who would have wanted you to give up everything you’ve worked for and be forced to lead a life you didn’t sign up to.’ She frowned. A few days ago she’d felt so strongly that he shouldn’t sell, but seeing him now, getting emotional over the very thought of selling, she could see it hadn’t been the flippant decision she’d assumed it had been.

‘Then why do I feel so damn guilty about it?’ His eyes were intense, his gaze on her unwavering.

‘Because you’re a good man.’ She shrugged.

‘I am?’

‘Well, yes.’ Taking her hand away, she began picking at the marshmallow again, this time instead of rolling the sticky burnt fluff into a ball, she popped it in her mouth. She’d forgotten how good these tasted. After swallowing, she continued, grinning. ‘If you forget how grouchy you were to me, Miss Cooke and the poor under fourteens’ netball team.’

‘Ah, I was, wasn’t I?’ He grimaced.

‘Oh yes, you were. I shouldn’t think poor Carrie or Harper will ever be brave enough to step foot on the farm again, and if they do, they certainly won’t go wandering off.’ She laughed.

‘Ah, I do feel bad about that.’ He chuckled.

‘Nah, I’m only joking. I can tell you’re one of the good ones, because if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.’ She picked at another piece of marshmallow.

‘About me terrorising unsuspecting villagers?’ He raised his eyebrow.

‘Exactly that.’ Nicola looked back at him; his eyes were still fixed on hers. She watched as he reached out towards her, his fingers gently brushing her lips.

‘You have a little marshmallow…’

‘Oh, do I?’ She rubbed at her lip, her fingers brushing against his. ‘Has it gone now?’

‘No. I can deal with it, if you like?’ He spoke quietly as he leaned in towards her, their lips centimetres apart. ‘May I?’

‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded. She could smell his woody aftershave as he leaned in closer. She closed her eyes as she felt his lips brush against hers. She felt him take the stick from her hand before reaching up and tucking his finger beneath her chin.

‘Is that okay?’ Leaning back, he studied her face.

‘More than okay.’ Placing her hand on the nape of his neck, she pulled him back towards her, their lips touching again. How had they come to this? A few days ago, he infuriated her. Now, though, all she wanted was to stay in this moment forever.

19

After taking a sip of coffee, Nicola swiped at her phone screen again, rewatching the video she’d filmed of Charlie yesterday. Once they’d finished the filming, she’d sent it to herself so she could edit it at her leisure on her own phone. She needed to cut some bits out, mostly parts where she’d reshot after he’d muddled his words, or she’d told him he looked too grumpy.

Absent-mindedly, she ran her finger across her lips, grinning as she remembered the kiss they’d shared beside the campfire. He’d already messaged her and asked to meet at the pub later. At 7 p.m. In six hours’ time. Six whole hours.

‘So, are you going to tell me or what?’

Startled from her thoughts, Nicola looked up and watched as Laura set another mug on the table before taking a seat. ‘Tell you what?’

Laura raised her eyebrow, a smile covering her face. ‘You know exactly what. Why you’ve been grinning to yourself all day today. Who is it? What’s his name? And how did you meet?’

‘I…’ Nicola lowered the phone to the tabletop, a warm heat rushing across her cheeks.

‘And don’t try to deny it.’ Laura took a sip of her coffee and peered over the rim of her mug, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

‘No, it’s…’ Nicola sighed. There was no reason to keep it from Laura. She knew she could trust her. ‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Uh, yes. It’s the first time I’ve seen you look like this since I met you.’ Laura grinned and rubbed Nicola’s forearm. ‘It’s a good thing. It’s nice to see you so happy. I know things didn’t end well with you and Nathan.’

‘No, they didn’t.’ Nicola frowned. They hadn’t ended at all well and she’d wondered for a while if she’d ever truly get over him hurting her the way he had, let alone be able to trust someone again, but from what she’d learned about Charlie, he was an honest person. He hadn’t even put on a polite front when she’d first gone to see him, so she had a feeling he might just be trustworthy.

Laura pointed to Nicola’s phone, the video still playing between them, and widened her eyes. ‘It’s not the grumpy farmer, is it?’

Nicola twisted the phone to face her again and smiled as Charlie’s face filled the screen. ‘He’s not actually that grumpy when you get to know him.’

Placing her mug on the table with a thud, Laura grinned. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

Meeting Laura’s eyes, Nicola smiled back, unable to resist the urge to talk to someone about it any longer. ‘Yes, it is.’

Placing her hands over her cheeks, Laura raised her eyebrows. ‘You and Charlie? You’re together?’

‘No, no.’ Nicola shook her head quickly. ‘We just shared a kiss or two, that’s all.’

‘A kiss or two? I want to hear all the details! Where did it happen? When are you seeing him next?’ Laura fired off the questions.

Leaning back in her chair, Nicola laughed. ‘It happened on his farm yesterday evening, after shooting this video. And he’s asked me to go to the pub with him tonight.’

‘Ooh, tonight. I’ll be there with the darts team tonight!’

‘Of course. You’ve got a match or tournament, or whatever it’s called, haven’t you?’

‘A match, yes. But don’t try to change the subject. Tell me all!’

‘Okay, I will.’ Nicola picked up her mug again, wrapping her hands around it. It was good to talk to Laura, someone who would understand and be able to pick apart what had happened.

* * *

Looking down at the list Laura had given her, Nicola mentally ticked off what she’d already bought. All that was left was to pop into the hardware store and pick up a small pot of paint to redo the patch on the skirting board Laura had accidentally scratched whilst moving furniture around in one of the guest bedrooms.

Hearing a small beep signalling a new message, she pulled her mobile from her pocket and grinned when she saw Charlie’s name.

Hey, just wondering if you want to grab dinner before the pub tonight? I’ve heard about this lovely restaurant over in Nettleford, if you do? C x

She pursed her lips together and swallowed a whoop of delight. He’d put a kiss!

Taking a breath, she looked around the village green. Groups of people were lying on picnic rugs enjoying lunch or sitting with their backs up against a tree reading whilst children played Frisbee and football around them. She loved Meadowfield, even more now that she was no longer working for Nathan and could enjoy a wander into the centre on her lunch break or, like now, running errands for Pennycress Inn.

Looking back down at her phone, Nicola tapped out a reply, trying hard not to focus on the meaning of the kiss at the end of his message.

That would be lovely. N x

She watched as the three dots appeared on the screen to indicate Charlie was typing back.

Great! I’ll pick you up at seven. Looking forward to it x

Grinning, she reminded herself that whatever was going on between them was so ridiculously new that she really needed to protect herself and not get ahead of anything.

As she began typing another reply, a tapping noise sounded from in front of her.

Looking up, she scoured the street, trying to work out where the tapping had come from. Just as it started up again, her eyes rested on the bakery window. It was Nathan. There he was, standing by the big glass window of the bakery, trying to get her attention. She frowned.

Nathan waved his hand and held up a mug, signalling her to join him.

She shook her head and began walking again. There was no way she wanted to go in and have a coffee and cake with him in the bakery. However nice it was inside; she’d still be sitting facing her ex – and why on earth would he want her to join him?

And why was he in Meadowfield, anyway? He should be at work.

‘Nic! Nic, hold up!’ His voice rose above the general hubbub in the street.

Dipping her head down, she focused on the pavement ahead. She’d just pretend she hadn’t seen him. Or heard him. He would give up soon enough.

‘Nic!’ Catching her up, Nathan fell into step beside her. ‘Didn’t you hear me calling you?’

Slumping her shoulders, she sighed. ‘Sorry, Nathan. I’ve got things to do.’

‘Come and grab a coffee with me. We need to talk.’ He pointed behind them back towards the bakery.

‘I can’t. I’m working.’ She pointed to the canvas bag she had flung on her shoulder. Please, just take the hint, Nathan.

‘We need to talk. You can spare me five minutes.’ He cupped her elbow.

Spinning on her heels to face him, she shook him off. ‘And why do you think I can or should spare five minutes of my time for you? Especially after the stunt you pulled the other day.’

‘Because we used to live together, because an eight-year relationship should count for something,’ he retorted, his voice strong.

‘Yes, it should count for something, shouldn’t it? It’s just a shame it didn’t in your eyes, not when you were cheating on me. Not when you were wining and dining your mistress in our kitchen and no doubt getting up to other things I don’t even want to think about.’ She glared at him. ‘So, quite frankly, you’ve only yourself to blame that my views on what counts or doesn’t count have changed. I owe you nothing, Nathan. And I most definitely don’t owe you the one thing you couldn’t give me and that’s time.’

‘Nic…’

‘And stop calling me that. That’s a nickname my friends call me and you most definitely are not my friend.’ Gripping the bag handle with her shaking hands, Nicola walked off.

‘I’ve got nowhere to go, Nic— Sorry, Nicola. I’ve got no one.’

Turning around, she watched as he held his arms out and looked at her with something akin to a puppy dog stare. Before the affair, before he’d broken her heart, that look would have worked, and she’d have given him what he wanted. But not now. Now she’d seen through him, now she’d seen him at his worst. He’d all but broken her and there was no chance she’d let that happen again, that she’d let him lie to her. ‘I can’t trust anything you say. Now, please, let me get on.’

Pausing, he looked at her, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling up into a scowl. ‘You’ve moved on, haven’t you? That guy I saw you with at the end of our road. You’re with him?’

‘At the end of my road. You don’t live there anymore, and you chose that, remember? You made the decision to cheat on me with Kerry, and you would have known the consequences. The cottage, my life, it’s mine and I don’t have to answer to you. To anyone.’

Setting her jaw, Nicola turned again, this time determined to walk away from him. Determined not to be pulled into one of his conversations, or, worse still, one of his question-and-answer firing squads. No, he didn’t get to be privy to what was going on in her life. Not anymore. And he’d just have to get used to it.

She ignored his pleas to her to turn around, relieved that he at least was no longer trying to walk with her.

Stepping into the hardware store, she forced a smile. ‘Hi, Neil. How are you today?’

Neil Parsons looked up from the papers he was scribbling on, his pen poised in the air. ‘I can’t complain, Nic. I can’t complain. How are you on this fine day?’

‘I’m okay, thanks.’ Pulling the list of jobs to do from her pocket, she looked up. ‘I’m looking for some of this paint, please? If you’ve not got any, can I order it in, please?’

‘Of course. Let’s take a look.’ Slipping his reading glasses onto his nose, he took the list from Nicola and stared intently at it before looking back up at her. ‘Yep, not got that shade. I have a cream and an off-white but not pure white. Would either of those do?’

‘No, sorry. It’s to patch up a mark on the skirting board.’ Stepping forward, Nicola placed the heavy canvas bag on the edge of the counter before taking her list back.

‘No problem. Leave it with me and I’ll order it in for you. It’ll be ready to collect in three days. How does that sound?’

‘Perfect, thanks.’ She pulled the bag back onto her shoulder.

‘I’ve got to say, you’re looking a lot happier these days. Working at the inn again must be agreeing with you.’ He took his reading glasses off and folded them before placing them on the counter.

‘Oh, thanks.’ Nicola smiled, a genuine smile this time. ‘I guess it’s spending time back where I grew up, and working with Laura instead of my cheating ex.’

‘Ah yes. Never much liked him, I didn’t. Of course, I couldn’t tell you at the time, but there were a few of us who thought the same.’ He picked up a cloth and began buffing his glasses.

‘You didn’t like him?’ Nicola frowned. ‘And there were others in the village who didn’t either? Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Us oldies can’t go poking our beaks into other people’s business now, can we? Besides, what if we’d been wrong?’

‘Oh, you weren’t wrong, I can assure you.’ She glanced outside, hoping Nathan wouldn’t still be lurking around when she headed back to the inn.

‘No, we weren’t.’ Popping his glasses back on, Neil started up his computer, presumably to input the order. ‘You need to find yourself a nice young man who will treat you right. You do.’

‘I’m with you there.’ Nicola grimaced. It wasn’t as though she could really just magic one up, was it? Make a wish, blow out a candle and magic up a man who was kind, thoughtful and above all honest. Although maybe she had found one already. In Charlie.

She shook her head. She and Charlie hadn’t even had their first date yet.

‘Well, good luck, love, and I’ll let you know when your paint’s in.’ Neil briefly held his hand up before looking back at the computer screen.

‘Thanks, bye.’ Pulling the door open, Nicola gingerly stepped outside, half-expecting Nathan to be waiting for her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realised the coast was clear.

20

Nicola smiled as she felt Charlie take her hand, and she looked up at him as they walked towards the pub door. ‘Thanks again for dinner. It was lovely.’

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ He leaned in closer and pecked her on the cheek. ‘The food and the company.’

‘Likewise.’ She grinned. She was really beginning to feel there could be something special between them. Yes, it was super, super early days, but she felt a spark each and every time she saw him, whether he was in his everyday flannel shirts or the smart jeans and pale blue shirt he was wearing this evening. And the way he just wanted to spend time with her. He made her feel wanted and interesting. He listened to her, answered her. He took the time to hear what she was saying. There was no noncommittal grunting or long silences as there had been with Nathan. And she’d not had that in a very long time. She’d not felt worthy.

‘Here.’ Charlie pulled the heavy wooden door of the pub open and stood aside, letting her through first, demonstrating once again how completely different he was to Nathan who would have eagerly pushed his way through first just so he didn’t waste any time drinking or catching up with his mates.

Stepping inside, Nicola looked around. It was busy and, by the looks of things, the darts competition had already begun, a crowd of people were clustered around the dartboard, with more people sitting at tables and glancing over at the excitement every so often.

The warmth of the pub was welcome after the chill of the clear summer evening and Nicola shrugged out of her cardigan, draping it over her arm. After taking Charlie’s hand again, his skin warm against hers, she weaved through the other punters towards the bar, where Jackson greeted them.

‘Evening, Nicola. Hey, Charlie. What can I get you both?’ Placing his hands on the bar, he leaned slightly forward, speaking above the chatter surrounding them.

‘A white wine and a lager please, mate.’ Charlie slipped his bank card from his wallet and glanced around. ‘It’s busy tonight.’

‘Oh yes. I must admit we knew the darts competition would draw a crowd, but we weren’t quite prepared for this amount of extra people.’ Jackson placed their drinks on the bar.

‘Are you going to be able to get away from the bar and watch Laura play?’ Nicola glanced towards the throng of people surrounding the dartboard as a raucous cheer swept through the pub.

‘I sure hope so. I’m not even supposed to be working now. We finished serving food an hour ago, but Nancy is running late.’ He looked up as the door opened, and Nancy, one of the bartenders, hurried through. ‘Ah, right on cue.’

‘Sorry, sorry. Had an absolute nightmare with the car. I didn’t realise the tyre was flat until I’d gone to get in it to come to work.’ Nancy rushed behind the bar, throwing her handbag to the floor as she did so and kicking it against the back wall.

‘No worries. Did you manage to get it sorted or shall I pop by sometime and change it?’ Jackson wiped the bar down.

‘Thanks, but my neighbour changed it. Right, give me two seconds and I’ll be with you.’ Nancy took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back before fixing a smile. ‘There, ready. You go and support Laura.’

‘You sure?’ Jackson waited until Nancy had nodded and began serving the next customer before grabbing himself a drink and slipping out from behind the bar.

‘That was good timing.’ Charlie nodded as they made their way towards the dartboard.

Jackson waved to Laura as she stood waiting her turn and blew her a kiss before settling against a table and taking a sip of his drink.

Leaning back against the table next to Jackson, Charlie pulled Nicola towards him so her back was resting against his chest and his arm around her waist. ‘Can you see from here?’

‘Yes.’ Nicola smiled, the weight of his arm around her a comfort, and placed her hand over his.

They watched as Laura took her turn, the darts flying through the air before landing just where she wanted them to. Nicola had never learned the rules of darts, but by the reaction of her teammates, Laura must have got the points they had needed to win the game.

‘Well done, Laura!’ Pushing himself away from the table, Jackson clapped his hands above his head, his drink slightly spilling as he did so. ‘That’s my girl!’

Nicola clapped as she watched Laura’s teammates hug and high-five each other. Slowly, the crowds dispersed, and Laura came towards them.

‘You were epic! Well done.’ Jackson drew Laura in for a huge hug before pulling away and kissing her.

‘Well done, Laura. That was great.’ Nicola grinned as Charlie joined in with congratulating her.

‘Thanks, it was a tough match.’ Laura glanced towards a teammate and high-fived them before turning her attention back to them. ‘I can’t quite believe we won! The other team are higher than us in the league.’

‘Ah, but how many matches have you had unbeaten so far this season?’ Jackson laid an arm around her shoulders.

‘Five I think?’ Laura grinned.

‘See, you need to have more faith in yourselves.’ Jackson kissed her again as her teammates returned, brandishing a bottle of bubbly.

‘Shall we go and see if there’s a table outside? Let the winners celebrate?’ Charlie spoke quietly.

‘Good idea.’ Reluctant to step away from his hold, Nicola took his hand and led the way outside.

With the sky clear of clouds, the stars above them made the perfect backdrop to such a perfect evening. Sitting down at one of the wooden picnic tables, she waited until Charlie had got comfy opposite her before holding up her glass.

‘To new beginnings.’

‘To new beginnings.’ Charlie clinked glasses before holding his up again. ‘To us.’

‘To us.’ Nicola took a small sip of her wine. She could feel herself falling for him. After the way Nathan had treated her, she’d accepted she was facing a future of being alone, her heart too broken and her trust too shattered to even think about dating again, but then Charlie had come along and she found herself at the beginning of this new adventure and suddenly things felt exciting again and she was realising that her life wasn’t mapped out in front of her anymore, not as she’d assumed it would be, anyway.

‘You look very serious.’ Charlie leaned slightly forward, the moonlight glistening in his eyes.

She shrugged. She couldn’t very well admit she’d believed she’d been left on the shelf, could she? ‘I was just thinking that unexpected things happen still. I mean, I never in a million years thought we’d be sitting opposite each other on a date now when I first met you.’

Chuckling, he leaned back, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I was that bad, hey?’

‘Uh, just slightly.’ She laughed.

‘Sorry, I’ve just had so much on my mind, what with the farm and having to step away from my life in London.’ He grimaced. ‘I was pretty grouchy, wasn’t I?’

She nodded. ‘Just a little.’

He shifted on the bench. ‘I hope your delightful ex has been leaving you alone now?’

‘Umm, I saw him in the village centre earlier and he tried to speak to me.’ She rolled her eyes at the memory. ‘I just don’t understand. He was the one who cheated on me. I actually found them in our cottage, and now he thinks he can just waltz back into my life, and I’d let him stay with me until he found a place of his own. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Yikes. I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t realise he’d cheated on you.’ Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. ‘I gathered he wasn’t the nicest of people even just from my short encounter with him, but to cheat…’

‘Yeah. He really isn’t.’ She focused on their hands as he drew circles with his thumb across the back of her hand. ‘Our relationship hadn’t been perfect, I guess, but I still would have appreciated him finishing with me first before moving on.’

Charlie looked at her, a flash of anger flushing across his face before he frowned. ‘Please believe me when I promise you that I’d never cheat on you. I never have cheated and I never will.’

He’d never cheat on her. Did that mean what she thought it did? Was he saying that he could see a future with her? Or at least that he’d like to see where things led?

She squeezed his hand. ‘That’s good to know. Can I ask why you and your last partner split up?’

Jackson took a deep breath, the lines in his forehead deepening. ‘There were a few things. Our ideas of the future we wanted didn’t align and at the time neither of us had much time to invest in our relationship.’

‘Because of work?’

‘Yes, we were both working all the hours under the sun and our relationship just went to the bottom of the list of things to attend to, so to speak.’ He ran his palm across his face. ‘I’m not proud of it, of putting my work first, but that’s just how it ended up.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’ Nicola twisted her wine glass on the wooden tabletop. He worked long hours back in London, then? He did at the farm too, she knew that, but he’d made time to see her.

‘I guess it’s just one of those things that we need to learn from.’

‘Yes, that’s true.’ Did he split up with her, or did she break up with him? Did he secretly want to get back with his ex? She knew these insecurities stemmed directly from the way Nathan had behaved towards her, so she tried her best to push them out of her mind and focus on Charlie. He was here with her now and she just needed to take that at face value.

21

Nicola tapped the return button on the keyboard. That was another batch of photographs of Pennycress up and loaded onto social media. She flicked through them and smiled. The photographs made the inn look idyllic: guests lounging in the garden, Jill’s new plant pots brimming with colourful flowers by the front door, a slice of the fruitcake Laura had been painstakingly learning how to bake and perfecting for the last month or so before allowing their guests to be eager guinea pigs.

Nicola looked up as Laura came through carrying a tray full of used crockery.

‘I think we’ll have to build another cloakroom down here. This is their third pot of tea and they’re already onto their fourth.’ Resting the tray on top of the desk, Laura laughed. ‘And just to warn you, they’ve been trying, and failing, to teach me bridge, so if you do venture into the sitting room, they’ll likely try to accost you, too.’

‘Thanks for the warning.’ Nicola grinned. She loved the bridge club members, her mum being one of them, and the others all being people she’d grown up with around Meadowfield. ‘My mum gave up on trying to teach me years ago, so hopefully I’ll be safe.’

‘Oh, you might be lucky then.’ Laura smiled as she rearranged the empty cups and saucers on the tray. ‘I can’t believe it’s almost the Landownes’ wedding.’

‘I know. When they booked it, I thought it was so far in the future we didn’t really have to worry about it, but it’s come round so quickly.’

‘It has, hasn’t it? I just hope we can pull it off.’

‘We will.’ Nicola smiled. She knew how worried Laura was about hosting the wedding reception, but everything was prepared, and they were ready for the big day. ‘It’ll be fine. Everything is under control.’

‘Oh, I don’t doubt that. I’ve seen how you work, remember? I’m more worried about something going wrong on the day. The range breaking so Jackson can’t cook the wedding breakfast or the roof caving in. Or me tripping and spilling red wine on Suzy’s wedding dress.’ She began chewing her nails.

Reaching out, Nicola laid her hand on Laura’s forearm. ‘If the range breaks, Jackson will cook the food at the pub. If the roof caves in, well, the wedding party will be out in the garden, anyway. And if you spill red wine on the bride’s dress, then we’ll just test out the whole throw white wine over the stain to get rid of it theory. We’ve got this.’

Laura pulled her hand away from her mouth and relaxed her shoulders. ‘Thank you. I knew you’d have a solution to everything.’

‘Honestly, let’s just roll with it and enjoy it. You never know, this might be the start of a whole lot of people choosing to have their wedding reception here at Pennycress Inn.’

‘Now that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? For us to be such an integral part of a couple’s special day. Although I’m not sure my stress levels could cope.’

‘Stop.’ Nicola grinned. ‘Suzy and Owen’s big day is going to be perfect.’

‘Yes, you’re right. You know what, I think I’m just going to try to put it out of my mind for now. Like you say, everything is prepared and ready to go, so there’s no point worrying.’

‘Exactly.’ Nicola nodded and pushed a fallen napkin back onto the tray.

‘Right, I’d best go and grab some more cake.’ Laura picked up the tray just as the front door swung open and Jill stepped inside with a few sheets of plywood under her arm. She was quickly followed by a group of at least ten young children all sporting bright blue T-shirts with the words Meadowfield Forest School emblazoned in yellow writing across the front and carrying large pieces of card, paintbrushes and those squeezy bottles of paints which seemed to be a staple in every primary school classroom. Lowering the tray again, Laura glanced at Nicola, a look of pure horror on her face before turning to Jill. ‘Hi, Jill. Everything okay?’

Leaning the sheets of plywood against the wall, Jill scraped her hair from her face and bundled it into a messy bun, strands of her glorious red hair cascading down her back as it fought against the hairband. ‘Yes… No.’

‘No?’ Laura raised her eyebrows.

‘In truth, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going – and please don’t ask me the day of the week or the month. I don’t think I’d be able to answer.’ Jill held her hand over her forehead.

‘Oi! You just hit me with that.’ A young boy shouted at the girl in front of him, who was holding a piece of card roughly the same size of her.

‘No, I didn’t.’ The girl turned towards Jill and, as she did so, the card whacked the boy against the arm again.

‘Oi!’ the boy cried out again, rubbing his arm furiously. ‘You did it again. Mrs Davies, she did it again.’

‘It’s Jill, Sebastian. I’ve told you that before.’ Jill glanced at Laura and Nicola and lowered her voice. ‘Every time one of them calls me Mrs Davies, I automatically look around, expecting to see Gerald’s mum.’

‘But it hurts.’ Sebastian pouted.

‘I know, I know.’ Hurrying across to him, Jill rubbed his arm before ushering the young girl with the card forward a little. ‘That’s it, Issy. Just try to make sure you’re standing away from anyone else.’

‘Uh, is there anything we can do to help?’ Laura asked cautiously.

‘I was hoping I could plead with you to see if we could borrow the sitting room. We’d be quiet. And not for long either, a couple of hours or so.’ Jill walked back towards the desk, holding her hands together in a pleading motion. ‘We’ve just been chucked out of the village hall because there’s a private function there this evening and they need to get the hall ready.’

‘We’ve got the bridge club in the sitting room at the moment.’ Nicola looked at the bottles of paints and chalks, all being held a little precariously. ‘But why don’t you come through to the garden? The weather’s nice and it’s not supposed to rain. What do you think, Laura?’

Relief washed across Laura’s face at Nicola’s suggestion. ‘Yes, the garden. What a great idea.’

‘Are you sure? That would be amazing, thank you. It’s just typical, isn’t it? But with only another couple of weeks left until the carnival, we can’t really lose any time at the moment.’ Jill began ushering the children through into the kitchen towards the glass doors which led out onto the decking. ‘Mind that paint, Willow. Put the salt shaker down right now, Freya. That’s it, Ruby, straight through the doors and head right down the steps to the grass.’

‘Thank you for letting us do our important painting here.’ Issy, the girl holding the large sheet of card, smiled up at Laura and Nicola before turning towards the kitchen. The large piece of card she was dragging behind her clipped Laura on the shin.

‘No problem,’ Laura called after her as the last of the children disappeared through the doorway and Laura bent down to rub her leg. ‘That was quick thinking about the garden, Nic.’

‘Haha, I saw your face when Jill asked about them taking over the sitting room and then noticed the bottles of paint.’ Nicola grimaced.

‘Yes, and that sort of washable paint never comes out, however many stain removers you use.’ Laura curled her index fingers around the word, ‘washable’.

‘Exactly.’ Nicola looked over as the sitting-room door opened and old Mrs Pritchard peered out.

‘Did I hear children’s voices?’

‘Yes, that was Jill, with the forest school children. They’re trying to work on props for their carnival float but have had to leave the village hall, so we’ve sent them out into the garden.’ Nicola waved towards the back of the inn.

‘Oh, how lovely. Was my little granddaughter Issy with them? She was chatting to me about the float they were designing when I babysat her the other day.’

‘Yes, she’s here.’ Laura smiled and rubbed her shin again.

Old Mrs Pritchard glanced over her shoulder to address the rest of the bridge club. ‘Who fancies some arts and crafts? The children’s forest school are painting for the carnival in the garden.’

‘Now that sounds fun.’ Mrs Pierce’s voice rang through the inn. ‘Come on, people, let’s go and give them a hand.’

Soon enough, the bridge game was forgotten, and the group of avid card players were heading out towards the garden.

Vivienne paused as she walked through the hallway and placed her hand on Nicola’s arm. ‘I’ll go and take a look and then be back in to bring out our drinks.’

‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll get those.’ Nicola smiled as the words her mum always used to say on the rare occasions they’d had a holiday for themselves came to mind, ‘you can take the innkeeper out of the inn, but not the inn out of the innkeeper’.

‘Are you sure, Nicola?’

‘Of course I am. Now go and help poor Jill.’ Nicola laughed as she closed her open tabs on the computer.

‘Right, I’m going. You don’t need to tell me twice.’ Vivienne chuckled as she followed the last of her club outside.

22

Carrying the heavy tray of hot drinks outside, Nicola stepped down from the decking and smiled at the scene in front of her. Bridge club members and forest school attendees alike were sitting at various picnic tables which were dotted around the lawn, each painting shapes cut out of plywood or card, whilst Sebastian and Issy, their earlier disagreement seemingly behind them, lay sprawled on the grass, as Jill cut out what looked to be a giant squirrel from the card Issy had carried through.

Catching her mum’s eye, Nicola walked across to her table and set the tray down before watching as Willow splashed green paint onto the plywood covering half the tabletop. ‘That looks interesting.’

‘We’re making grass. For the float.’ Willow looked up and grinned before brushing a loose strand of hair from her face and accidentally dragging the paintbrush across her cheek, leaving a smear of brilliant green across her skin.

‘Are you trying to turn yourself into a frog, little miss?’ Vivienne chuckled as she pulled a tissue from her handbag and wiped Willow’s cheek.

‘Ribbit, ribbit. I’m a frog now.’ Giggling, Willow jumped down from the table and began hopping around the garden.

Nicola laughed as two other children joined Willow on her froggy adventure. ‘Look what you’ve started now, Mum.’

‘Oops.’ Vivienne took her teacup and saucer from the tray. ‘Now, doesn’t this just feel like the old days, when you’d invite your friends round and we’d end up with half the school in the garden?’

‘Haha, I remember that. I used to love days like that when the inn was quiet and you’d let us take over the garden.’ Nicola smiled as she looked across the lawn. She could almost picture her younger self playing with her school friends.

‘Anyway, sit down for a moment. I feel as though we’ve not had a chance to catch up recently. Not properly.’

‘I know. It’s just all been a bit busy, what with work and…’ Nicola sat down.

‘This new farmer of yours.’ Vivienne raised her eyebrows.

Nicola could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up her neck. She’d only spoken briefly to her mum about Charlie. ‘I don’t think you can call him mine.’

‘Well, maybe not yet. But things are going well? I’m guessing they are, judging by the way you smiled when I mentioned him.’

‘Yes, they are. I think.’ Nicola shook her head. She wasn’t going to start worrying about what he’d said about his ex again or the way he’d looked off into the distance when he’d spoken about her. ‘No, they are. He’s really lovely and I feel there’s definitely something between us. Something good.’

Vivienne laid her hand on her daughter’s arm and squeezed. ‘Good, I’m glad. You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right after that toerag, Nathan.’

‘Well, I think Charlie will.’ And she meant it. Despite her concerns that he might still feel something for his ex, he’d promised he would never cheat, and she believed him.

‘Then I suppose I should invite him round for dinner one day?’ Vivienne smiled, a glint in her eye.

‘Hmm. Maybe give us a bit of time first to see where this is going.’ Nicola’s blush deepened.

‘Okay.’ Vivienne nodded slowly. ‘I’ve been told then. We don’t want me scaring him away.’

Nicola laughed. She could always count on her mum for making light of any situation. Placing her hands on the table in front of her, Nicola pushed herself to standing. ‘Soon. I promise. Right now, though, I should finish handing out the drinks before they get cold.’

23

‘Thank you for staying with us. I hope everything was to your satisfaction?’ Nicola took the key from Mr Jones’ hand.

‘It was perfect. Thank you. A lovely base to come back to after spending the day with our grandchildren.’ Mrs Jones smiled warmly.

‘Yes, we’ll be sure to return and to recommend Pennycress Inn to our family and friends, too.’ Mr Jones picked up the large suitcase by his feet.

‘That’s great to hear. Thank you. Have a safe journey home.’ Nicola watched as they left the inn before bending down and hanging their room key in the cupboard beneath the reception desk.

‘Was that the Joneses just leaving? Have I missed them?’ Laura came down the stairs carrying a huge washing basket filled with sheets and towels.

‘Yes, afraid so. Such a lovely couple, aren’t they?’ Nicola checked them out on the computer. ‘They’ve promised to stop again when they travel to see their grandkids next.’

‘Oh, that’s great. I’ll pop this lot into the machine and then go and clean their room.’ Laura looked across at the large clock fixed on the wall behind the reception desk. ‘I actually feel as though I’m organised for once.’

‘Haha, it does help when the guests leave early, doesn’t it?’

‘It does. It’s a good job too as Jackson moves in today, so if I can get this all done ahead of time, then I can spare a few hours to help him.’

‘Ooh yes. That’s exciting.’

‘It is. I can’t wait to be honest.’ Laura hugged the laundry basket towards her. ‘I feel as though we’ve been waiting forever for this. Although I know it’s not really, but I guess it’s just because we’ve known each other so long. He’s my brother’s best mate, so he’s been around forever.’

‘That’ll be great then when he’s all moved in.’ Nicola yawned.

‘Late night last night?’ Laura dropped the laundry basket by her feet and raised her eyebrows.

‘Haha, I went to see Charlie if that’s what you mean, yes, but we ended up spending the evening looking for a hen.’ Nicola stifled another yawn with the back of her hand.

‘A hen?’ Laura frowned.

‘Yes, just like I said. One of the hens from the farmyard just disappeared. Charlie had made me dinner, but just before we sat down to eat, he went out to make sure the hens had gone to bed for the night and to shut up the coop when he realised one was missing.’

‘Oh no, did you find her?’

‘Yes, but it took us about two hours of searching the barns, the yard and the closest fields. We’d all but given up and Charlie was convinced a fox must have got hold of her, and then on our way back to the farmyard to check on the others, we heard this clucking from beneath one of the trailers and there she was.’

‘She was hiding?’ Laura widened her eyes. ‘I didn’t realise they were that clever. She just didn’t want to go to bed or something?’

‘I don’t think she was hiding. I think she must have been off somewhere looking for corn or whatever and then came back when we were out looking for her.’ Nicola took a sip of the strong coffee she’d made herself when she’d first arrived at the inn earlier. The coffee was cold, but the caffeine would still do its job. Or she hoped it would. ‘They are clever, though. Apparently, they have the same intelligence as a toddler.’

‘Wow, seriously?’ Laura shuddered. ‘They always remind me of dinosaurs, the way they walk. And they’re not supposed to like red or something, are they?’

‘No, I remember one year when I was a teen, me and Jill visited the farm, and I was wearing flip-flops with my toes painted red.’ Nicola laughed at the memory of being chased around the farmyard by a group of hens trying to peck at her toes. She hadn’t even laughed at the time – she’d been suitably terrified – but looking back, she could see the funny side of it. ‘Suffice to say, I’ve never worn red nail varnish again.’

‘Oh, that’s brilliant!’ Laura threw her head back and laughed. ‘I’m so sorry, I probably shouldn’t laugh, but the image of you being chased by a hen…’

‘Laugh away. It’s a mistake I’ll never make again.’ Nicola grinned and nodded towards the front door as she spotted a group of children running up the path. ‘Are we expecting the forest school again today?’

‘Umm, not that I’m aware of. I know Jill is coming to garden in the evening because her husband is at work, so she’s got all the kids now the summer holidays have started but…’ Laura’s voice trailed off as the front door was pushed open and children ran into the hallway, carrying an array of art supplies just as they had yesterday. ‘Hello. Back again today?’

‘Yes! Mummy said we needed to ask you if we can paint in the garden again. We can’t go to the hall as there’s lots and lots of people still there and we can’t go to the forest school because in the holidays they let a lot of tiny children in, and they wouldn’t let us paint.’ Willow took a deep breath before continuing. ‘But we’ve had to bring Kasey as Mummy forgot to book him a place at the forest holiday school, so he’s with us, but we can’t let him ruin our paintings…’

‘I’m guessing you’ve explained everything, Willow, sweetie?’ After ushering the ten or so children into the hallway, Jill shifted little Kasey on her hip and closed the front door firmly behind her.

‘Yes.’ Laura smiled. ‘You need to work in the garden again?’

‘If that’s okay? Please? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually so organised, but this year, I just, I don’t know, I assumed we’d be able to use the classroom at the forest school, but they’ve taken on more children for the holidays this year and so it’s being used.’ Jill shrugged.

‘No worries. Come on through.’ Laura kicked the laundry basket behind the reception desk before leading the way.

‘I’ll bring out some juice. It’s going to be a warm one today.’ Nicola picked up the notebook and began to fan herself. She loved the summer, the long days, the warmth even, but already today it was too hot for her liking.

‘Yes, that’s a point, set up your workstations beneath the trees. In the shade,’ Jill called ahead as she hurried behind them.

‘We will, Mum!’ Willow shouted back, her voice echoing in the hallway.

‘Sorry to just drop all this on you again.’ Jill sighed as she followed behind, carrying armfuls of stuff, bags of paints and supplies, a sheet of plywood clamped between her arms and her side, as well as her small toddler.

‘No problem.’ Rushing around to the other side of the desk, Nicola took the bags from her. ‘Let me take those.’

‘Thank you.’ Jill smiled. ‘I don’t remember the carnival ever being so stressful. The other groups are all working at the farms who are lending them the use of their trailers. That way everything is in one place, and they can check measurements and how things will look, little things like that which make a huge difference.’

‘Is that what you did at Little Mead last year, too?’ Nicola followed her through the kitchen towards the large patio doors looking out onto the decking and the garden below.

‘That’s right. I’m not complaining. I’m really grateful that Charlie changed his mind and is lending us them now.’ Jill frowned. ‘I don’t want you thinking I’m moaning about him. I’m not.’

‘Don’t worry. I know you’re not. He might not realise, remember. He’s never worked on the farm before and he’s not visited his uncle in twenty-odd years. He probably doesn’t realise that by giving you only a couple of days to assemble it all isn’t really long enough.’ Using her elbow, Nicola pushed open the patio door before holding it open for Jill and the sheets of plywood. ‘I can talk to him, if you like?’

‘No, don’t. I don’t want him thinking we’re not grateful.’ Jill shook her head firmly. ‘Nope, we’ll cope. It’s only a few days until we can go up to the farm and start assembling it, anyway.’

‘Okay, if you’re sure.’ Nicola let the patio door close quietly behind them. She’d speak to him, anyway. She’d just let him know how things used to be and how the other clubs were working at the farms of their trailers.

‘Mummy, Mummy, Sebastian just painted my part of the squirrel. He’s drawn a pink bow on it.’ Willow raced towards Jill, almost knocking her and Kasey over.

‘Oh, don’t worry, sweetie. I’m sure your squirrel looks fantastic with the pink bow. Let me set all this down and I’ll come and take a look.’ After watching Willow run back to her painting partner, Jill turned to Nicola and muttered, ‘You’d never have guessed I asked them to keep it authentic, would you? But what would I know? Just because I’ve never seen a squirrel wearing a bow, it doesn’t mean there’s not one out there somewhere.’

Nicola laughed as she placed the bags on the picnic table. ‘I’m sure it will still look good.’

‘Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with a splash of creativity, is there?’ Jill grinned as she lowered Kasey to the ground, who immediately began running towards his big sister. ‘Don’t touch the squirrel, Kasey!’

‘Oops.’ Nicola grimaced as she watched Jill chase after her toddler, only just saving the plywood squirrel from certain destruction.

‘Hello?’ Charlie’s voice sounded from behind her.

Turning, Nicola felt a rush of warmth filter through her body as she watched Charlie step out of the inn and onto the decking, one hand above his eye shielding them from the sun. ‘Hey, Charlie. What are you doing here?’

Pausing at the top of the steps down to the garden, Charlie surveyed the scene below before joining her. ‘This looks fun.’

‘Fun and chaotic all mixed into one.’ Nicola grinned as they watched Jill race after Kasey again, this time narrowly saving him from knocking over a bottle of paint. ‘What can I do for you? I mean, it’s lovely to see you, but…’

‘I found this around the campfire this morning and I’m guessing it’s yours.’ He pulled a silver bracelet from his pocket, a tiny horseshoe charm hanging from it. ‘It’s beautiful and all, but not quite my colour.’

‘Haha.’ Holding her hand out, she let him clasp it around her wrist. ‘Thank you. I assumed I’d lost it around the house. My mum bought it for me when me and Nathan broke up. She said it would bring me good luck.’

He raised his eyebrows, a smile dancing on his lips. ‘Maybe it has.’

Looking up at him, she met his gaze. Did he mean him? ‘Yes, maybe it has.’

Jackson bounded down the decking stairs towards them, his cheeks a little flushed and his T-shirt dusty. ‘Hi. Oh wow! This looks fun!’

‘Hi, Jackson. Yes, Jill’s brought the forest school kids to work on their float again.’ Nicola looked around the garden. ‘I think… Ah, yes, Laura is over there painting hedgehogs by the looks of things.’

Jackson tilted his head, looking towards where Nicola had pointed. ‘Aren’t they rabbits?’

‘Umm… maybe.’ Nicola shook her head. Whatever they were, Laura looked as though she was having fun.

‘I’ll go over and see her.’ Jackson grinned. ‘I’ve just brought some bits across from next door and wanted to ask her where I should put them.’

‘Oh, yes, move-in day!’ Nicola smiled as she watched Laura noticing Jackson was here and holding up the plywood animal she and a group of children had been painting. It was a deer.

‘That’s right. I haven’t got much, but I still think it’ll take a while so wanted to make an early start.’ Jackson gave Laura the thumbs up.

‘I can give you a hand if you want, mate?’ Charlie nodded towards Jackson.

‘Oh really? That would be great, if you’ve got the time?’ Jackson slapped him on the back before heading towards Laura.

‘No problem.’ Charlie placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the garden. ‘I’ll let Jill know she can bring everything over to the farm and work from there from tomorrow.’

Turning, Nicola raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Why the change of heart?’

‘You’ve got the wedding here and I can move at least one of the trailers into the big barn at the bottom of the farm. It’s empty in there and away from where we’re working.’ Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Besides, it’s not for long, is it?’

‘No, the carnival will be here before we know it.’ She grinned before cupping his cheeks with her hands and pulling him in for a kiss. ‘Thank you.’

24

‘Argh, Nic! Can you remember where these are supposed to go?’ Laura held up two large ceramic statues of a bride and groom as she looked around the decking.

‘Yep, over there at the bottom of the steps to the left, I think.’ Nicola twisted around on the stepladder, careful not to tug the string of fairy lights she was hanging up from the roof of the decking.

‘Right, of course. Thanks.’ Setting the statues down, Laura ran back up the stairs and gripped hold of the stepladder, looking up at Nicola. ‘I can’t believe that this time tomorrow the wedding reception will be in full swing.’

‘I know. It seemed so far off when Suzy and Owen booked it and yet now, the time has just zoomed by.’ Having finished attaching the wire, Nicola stepped down.

‘And you really think we can pull it off?’

‘I know we can.’ Nicola looked down the garden. The white metal tables and chairs Suzy and Owen had hired were set up across the lawn, vintage-looking birdcages hung from branches in the trees surrounding the tables, and the willow tree sitting proudly in the centre of the garden was strung with white metal hearts. Meadowfield’s own brass band would be playing during the reception, and they were busy laying a temporary dance floor just behind the seating area. Tomorrow, all they’d need to do was to put up more fairy lights in the trees, place the tablecloths and flower arrangements on the tables and the flowers across the banisters of the decking before setting the tables.

‘Yes, yes.’ Laura continued to grip the now-empty stepladder; her knuckles white. ‘Of course we can.’

‘Laura.’ Turning to face her, Nicola held her arm out to encompass the garden. ‘Look what we’ve achieved so far. We can definitely do this. The weather is still predicted to be dry. It’s going to be perfect.’

‘I know, I know.’ Laura began chewing on her nail. They’d been decorating for hours now and she looked tired.

‘You’ve not been sleeping, have you?’ Nicola watched as Laura closed her eyes momentarily.

‘Is it that obvious?’ Laura pasted a grin on her face. ‘I’ve just been worried about this, that’s all.’

‘I thought so, but honestly, we’ve got this.’ Nicola smiled. ‘And once this one is over and done with, any future weddings will be a doddle.’

‘Yes, I guess they will.’

‘How’s Jackson settling in?’

Laura’s face lit up at the mention of her own fiancé. ‘Good, thanks. It’s just as though he’s always been here.’

‘I bet.’ Nicola grinned.

‘Talking of which, I’ll go and check how the preparations are going for the wedding breakfast if we’re done out here?’

‘Yep, I think we’ve done all the prepping out here we can for today.’ Nicola checked her watch. ‘I’ll stay on until the band has finished laying the dance floor.’

‘Okay, thank you. I really do appreciate everything you’re doing.’

Nicola smiled. ‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I love it here.’

‘Me too.’ Laura took a deep breath as she looked around the garden before turning and disappearing into the inn.

Looking back up at the fairy lights, Nicola sighed. She’d hadn’t secured one section properly, and the wire was hanging at a weird curve. Moving the stepladder across, she climbed up again.

‘Nic!’

Charlie’s voice snapped her from her thoughts and she looked down at him as she gripped the edge of the stepladder. ‘Charlie, you almost had me falling off then. What are you doing here?’

‘I was in the village picking up some food for our dinner tonight and thought I’d pop by to check you’re still coming over?’

Climbing down from the stepladder again, Nicola wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close before bringing her lips to his. This was the fourth time they’d met up this week and it warmed her heart that he was so keen to spend time together. ‘Absolutely, I am.’

‘Good, that was the answer I was hoping for.’ Charlie grinned.

Stepping back, Nicola looked down at his checked shirt. A large rip in the material ran from the cuff of his left hand all the way to his left shoulder. She ran her finger across it before looking him over. ‘What on earth happened here? Are you okay?’

Charlie followed Nicola’s gaze to his mangled shirt. ‘Apart from my ego and any self-respect I may have had left, I’m okay. I had a run-in with Claudette.’

‘Claudette did this?’ She picked up the two flaps of material, looking at the jagged edges. ‘How? Was she trying to eat it or something? Or has the freedom she’s been enjoying finally turned her feral?’

‘I think she’s been feral for a long time now.’ He chuckled. ‘I found her in the barn again and when I was trying to usher her out, I fell and caught my shirt against the doorframe.’

‘The doorframe?’ Nicola frowned, checking his skin beneath for any cuts.

‘Yes, the metal is a little, umm, rough, I guess, something must have been knocked into it and pulled it out of shape slightly. Another job I need to fix.’

Looking up, she met his gaze and smiled. ‘So, you fell into the doorframe? You weren’t mauled by the vicious fluffy white cloud that is Claudette the sheep?’

‘Well, no, I wouldn’t use the word mauled, but it was up there.’ His lips twitched with a smile.

Placing her hands on her hips, Nicola looked him over, taking in the jeans and the now-ripped checked shirt. ‘You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’

‘Oh yes, should I be afraid?’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Haha, no, I don’t think so. You seem to have so many of these checked shirts, you know, like proper farmer’s shirts, and yet I can’t imagine you rocking up to your office in the city in one of them. Did you go out and buy a ton of them when you learned you’d inherited the farm? Like a bulk order from Farmer’s Clothes Warehouse or somewhere?’

Throwing his head back. Charlie laughed. ‘I’m not even sure such a place exists. Although if it does, I’d certainly be up for checking it out.’

‘So, these are the fashion in London too?’

‘Haha no.’ Charlie wiped his palm across his face and smiled ruefully. ‘They were my uncle’s. When I turned up, I didn’t really have anything suitable to wear, save a couple of T-shirts, and so I borrowed one of his shirt’s, and I’ve been wearing one every day since. It sounds weird, doesn’t it?’

Nicola tilted her head. Charlie hadn’t been born with the same fashion sense as his uncle then. Shaking her head, she took hold of his hand. ‘Not at all.’

‘It sounds daft, but even though I rarely have a clue what I’m doing on the farm, wearing one of his shirts helps me feel closer to him, gives me a little confidence in my abilities.’

‘That’s not daft.’ Stepping closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘I think it’s really sweet, actually. You want to honour your uncle’s memory and that’s exactly what you’re doing.’

‘Oh, I hope so. I hope the old boy would be proud of me.’ Hugging her back, he leaned his chin on her shoulder, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke. ‘I doubt myself every day, but I’m trying. I’m trying to learn these new skills. I’m trying to do the right thing.’

‘I know. And you are.’ Her voice cracked as she thought about him leaving. With every accomplishment Charlie met at the farm, even down to fixing the doorframe, it all took him closer to the time he’d put the farm on the market. And she had to remember that. However close they were growing, however much her feelings for him were developing, she couldn’t let the reality of him leaving Meadowfield slip from her mind.

Pulling away, he turned to look out across the garden. ‘Anyway, this looks amazing. A world away from the chaos of the forest school yesterday.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled. Did he feel it too? The uncertainty, the worry of where their relationship would lead? He’d changed the subject pretty quickly. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she forced the thought from her mind and instead reminded herself to focus on the here and now, to focus on today.

25

After serving the last plate of dessert, Nicola held the empty tray to her chest and walked back up the decking stairs before turning and looking down at the wedding party below. The weather was holding. There wasn’t even a wisp of a cloud in the brilliant blue sky and the temperature was balmy, but not scorching. It was the perfect weather for such a perfect day.

She grinned. They’d pulled it off. Suzy and Owen’s family and friends had all oohed and ahhed over the decorations, marvelling at how romantic and whimsical the garden at Pennycress Inn had become and were now enjoying the wedding breakfast as Meadowfield’s brass band played from their position next to the dance floor. It almost looked as though they’d hosted a million weddings before this one!

‘It’s looking fab, isn’t it?’ Coming up behind her, Laura touched Nicola on the arm and nodded towards the wedding party below them.

Glancing at her, Nicola smiled. She hadn’t seen Laura looking this relaxed since they’d begun on the wedding preparations. ‘Yes, it really is. I’ve already taken some photos for the website and social media and will take some more before the day is out, too.’

‘Thank you. It’s kind of scary thinking about offering a wedding package, but I guess that now we’ve done one, the next won’t be so stressful.’

‘Exactly. We know what we’re doing now. And that we can get everything organised too.’ Nicola smiled as Jackson walked out onto the decking and stood behind Laura, wrapping his arms around her waist as they both looked out over the lawn.

Hugging her middle and holding Jackson’s hands, Laura leaned back against his chest. ‘And we’ve got all the props, the fairy lights, statues and everything else.’

‘Yes.’ Nicola glanced from Laura to Jackson and back again. ‘So, has this given you any ideas for your own big day?’

‘Just a few.’ Jackson’s voice was soft as he met Laura’s eyes. ‘We’ve spoken about having the reception here, too.’

‘You have?’ Nicola grinned. ‘I wondered if you would.’

‘It would make sense, wouldn’t it?’ Laura glanced over her shoulder at Jackson. ‘I mean, this is home now, so it would be the icing on the cake to celebrate our wedding here.’

‘I think that’s a lovely idea.’ Nicola smiled and nodded towards the tray in her hand. ‘I’d best get on. Catch you in a minute.’

‘Okay.’ Laura turned in Jackson’s arms, her tone excited as they began discussing their own wedding.

Walking through to the kitchen, Nicola poured herself a coffee before sitting down at one of the kitchen tables. She needed this, the caffeine. What with getting back from Charlie’s after spending the evening with him and getting up at the crack of dawn to come and finish off the preparations for the wedding, she wasn’t sure how she was managing to keep her eyes open. Adrenaline, she supposed. This was what she thrived on – event planning. She’d realised that since working here at Pennycress and having Laura’s trust to try new things and expand the business. Yes, this had been the biggest event she’d organised for the inn, the others mostly being birthday parties for children and adults, with a few anniversary celebrations thrown in, but she’d adored every moment of planning the Landownes’ wedding and she really hoped it would be the first of many here at Pennycress. She’d never had any trust to try new things whilst working for Nathan. He’d said jump, so she’d jumped. There had never been any opportunities to really discover what she enjoyed working on the most. Here, things were different. She had the opportunity to push herself. And she was loving every minute.

* * *

‘And let’s welcome the happy couple to the dance floor for their first dance.’ Jerry, the conductor of the brass band, spoke to the wedding party. ‘And we’ll also welcome Meadowfield’s finest singer, Rachel, to join us for this special occasion.’

A round of applause erupted across the lawn as Rachel took to the makeshift stage, clasping a microphone in her hand. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she looked around before pointing to Suzy and Owen, who were weaving their way through the tables towards the dance floor. ‘Thank you. Let’s hear it for the happy couple.’

Nicola watched as guests pushed their chairs back and surrounded the dance floor to whoops of delights and shouts of ‘congratulations’. She quickly glanced around at the tables and realising that all of them had been cleared of dirty crockery from the wedding breakfast, she made her own way across the grass towards the dance floor and joined the throng of spectators.

Rachel’s voice filled the warm air as she sang the words to the Landownes’ favourite song – the song which Suzy had told them was playing when Owen proposed to her.

As the song reached the final chorus, Suzy and Owen ushered their guests to join them on the dance floor and Nicola turned to head back up to the kitchen. As she made her way through the tables and a handful of guests reluctant to hit the dance floor, she picked up as many water jugs from the tables as she could. She’d use this time to refill them.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs up to the decking, she shifted the jugs in her grasp, grimacing as a stream of water split from one of them and splashed across the cobalt blue dress she was wearing.

Steadying the jugs again, she made her way up the steps and through to the kitchen before setting them down. Tilting her head, she listened as a thud sounded from the hallway. Who could that be? Suzy and Owen had hired posh Portaloos for the wedding guests as the inn’s single downstairs toilet wouldn’t have been enough, so there shouldn’t be any guests inside Pennycress. Unless someone had come in to look for something or to relax in the sitting room?

Snatching up the tea towel, she blotted the water stain on her dress before giving up and following the noises into the hallway. Pausing in the doorway, she laughed as she watched Jill, her husband, Gerald, and Charlie, of all people fighting with a plywood tree which had been stored behind the reception desk for the last few days.

‘Ouch!’ Gerald shrieked as a branch hit him over the head, whilst Charlie and Jill tried to manoeuvre it through the front door.

Stepping forward, Nicola took hold of one end. ‘Here, let me help.’

‘Thanks.’ Charlie, from his position outside the door, grinned at her.

‘I just don’t understand why we can’t get it through the door. It came in through the back door from the garden.’ Jill tried to angle it.

‘I think it’s stuck. Well and truly stuck.’ Gerald let go of the branches he was clasping and, as if to prove his point, the tree remained in place lodged against the doorframe.

‘You took it through the double patio doors, though.’ Nicola frowned as she pushed down on the edge of the plywood, trying and failing to free it. ‘Are you taking it to the farm?’

‘That’s the idea. Although I fear it may have become a permanent fixture here at Pennycress.’ Jill grimaced.

‘Nope. We’ll sort it.’ Letting go, Charlie straightened his back and surveyed the problem before catching Nicola’s eye. ‘You look lovely, by the way. The blue really suits you.’

Feeling a blush flush across her cheeks, Nicola smiled. If they hadn’t been separated by a huge plywood tree, she’d have gone right over and kissed him. ‘Thanks.’

‘Yes, that dress is gorgeous. How’s the wedding going?’ Jill slumped her shoulders in defeat. ‘We really should have thought about this and collected it another time. I just thought we’d be able to sneak in and out with it quickly. I didn’t think it would get stuck. If I had, I’d never have risked it.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Nicola smiled reassuringly. Yes, it wasn’t quite the right time and definitely not the ideal situation to have a wedding reception taking place and the front door barricaded off, but the guests were all outside and would be none the wiser.

‘Are you sure? I should have thought. What if the guests want to leave and find we’ve trapped them inside?’ Jill gasped. ‘It’ll be like a hostage situation. I can just picture the headlines now – “Wedding Guests Imprisoned in Inn by Gigantic Wooden Tree”.’

‘Haha, I don’t think it’ll come to that. Besides, the guests arrived through the side gate, and I’m sure they’ll be leaving the same way too.’ Nicola glanced behind her. Despite telling Jill everything was okay, she still had work to do, and she really should be refilling the water jugs before people tired of the dance floor and needed to rehydrate.

Charlie placed his hands on his hips, his eyes glazing over as he thought before tapping the side of his head. ‘Got it!’

‘You do?’ Jill widened her eyes. ‘You mean we won’t have to resort to sawing it in half? The kids would hate that. They’ve worked so hard on painting it all. Look at the individual paper leaves they’ve stuck to it.’

Nicola grimaced as she noticed at least half the leaves lying on the hallway floor beneath the tree. Still, they could easily be reattached. She looked over the edge of the trunk towards Charlie. ‘What’s your plan?’

‘We just need to pivot it.’ Holding his hands up, he moved them to the side. ‘Like this. So Jill and Gerald stand either side of the branches, I’ll pull it out by the roots and, Nic, can you guide the top?’

‘Yep.’ Doing as she was instructed, Nicola waited for Charlie’s signal before pushing.

‘It’s still not working.’ Jill wailed and knelt down on the floor to grasp it from a different place.

‘I’ll get the saw.’ Gerald frowned and pointed towards Charlie. ‘Sorry, mate, I can’t get past. Can you grab my toolbox from the back of my car, please?’

‘Let’s try again before we resort to cutting it.’ Charlie leaned back down and held the roots again.

Nodding in agreement, Gerald took up his position again.

‘Is everyone ready?’ Charlie waited until everyone had nodded before continuing. ‘Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three.’

Nicola angled the tree again and began pushing as the plywood scraped against the doorframe.

‘It’s moving, but be careful, so we don’t take any paint off the door. Push a little harder, but slow it down,’ Charlie instructed. ‘And go.’

As they pushed, the tree finally dislodged, causing Charlie to jump back as the plywood creation fell against the slabs of the pathway. Nicola reached out and grabbed Jill’s arm to save her from falling and Gerald gripped hold of the door handle to steady himself. As they all cheered, Jill gripped her husband as they ran outside to carry it to the small trailer attached to her car.

After watching them walking down the garden path, Charlie joined Nicola inside and chuckled. ‘It had me worried there for a moment.’

‘Haha, me too.’ Nicola smiled as Charlie wrapped his arms around her. ‘At least we no longer have a massive tree towering behind the reception desk.’

‘No, I can imagine that might have raised a few questions from your guests.’ Charlie kissed her on the forehead.

‘So, what was the plan, to slip in, take the tree and leave without warning us it was going?’ She grinned as she thought of what a surprise it would have been for her and Laura to suddenly notice the missing tree.

‘Nope, my plan was to pop in and try to get your attention.’

‘Really?’ She felt a flutter in her stomach as she thought about how often he was going out of his way to see her recently. ‘That would have been a nice surprise.’

‘Well, what can I say? I just like your company.’ He kissed her again on the top of her head.

Leaning her chin back, she studied his eyes. He liked her company? Did that mean he was feeling the same way as her? Not being able to wait until the next time they saw each other. The number of times they’d met up this week suggested it and she was trying, and failing not to read too much into it. ‘What about the farm? I thought you were super busy at the moment?’

He shrugged. ‘We are, but it’s all being taken care of. And, let’s be honest, the farmhands know what they’re doing more than me.’

‘I suppose they do.’ Wrapping her hands around his neck, she drew him closer. ‘I’m going to miss you so much when you sell Little Mead.’

Charlie slumped his shoulders, a shadow forming across his face. ‘I will too, but let’s not think about that now.’

‘I guess not, but we do need to talk about it at some point.’ She bit down on her bottom lip. As much as she didn’t want to, they both knew they had to face up to reality at some point. It was so easy to just push it to the back of her mind, to almost forget that he was only here for the time being, but on the other hand she knew she was falling for him and if they didn’t have that conversation soon, it might just be too late.

‘I know.’ He tucked his finger beneath her chin, their lips touching before he drew back again.

‘Hi, Nicola.’

Jumping back from him, Nicola turned to see Suzy walking into the hallway, the long train of her ivory wedding dress sweeping across the oak floorboards. ‘Suzy, is everything okay?’

‘Perfect. It’s just perfect.’ Her eyes gleamed with happiness. ‘I was just running up to my room to grab a present I have for Owen. I was going to wait until after everyone had left, but I don’t think I can.’

‘I can run up and get it for you if you like? Save you going up?’ Nicola smiled.

‘Thank you, but I’m happy going.’ She fiddled with the straps of her gown and laughed. ‘I need to readjust, anyway.’

‘Okay. Well, give me a shout if you need any help.’ Nicola smiled.

‘Charlie, isn’t it? You’ve taken over from Farmer Williams at Little Mead?’ Suzy turned her attention to Charlie.

‘That’s right. For the time being.’ Charlie nodded. ‘He was my uncle.’

‘You must stay, then. My dad used to work up there on Little Mead.’

‘Oh no, I’m not really dressed for the occasion.’ Charlie’s cheeks pinked as he tugged on the edge of his checked flannel shirt.

‘Nothing wrong with what you’re wearing. We wrote on the invites that we specifically wanted people to feel comfortable in whatever they chose to wear. You’re more than welcome to stay and experience a Meadowfield wedding.’ Suzy grinned and looked pointedly at Nicola. ‘Take Nicola for a dance.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Charlie nodded reluctantly and watched as Suzy climbed the stairs, carefully carrying her train draped over her arm to save herself from tripping, before he turned to Nicola. ‘I’ll get going.’

‘Aw, really? You’ve not got time for one little dance?’ She held her index finger up, suddenly wanting nothing more than to dance with him.

Leaning across, he kissed her on the forehead. ‘How could I say no?’

‘Great.’ Taking his hand, she led him outside, weaving back through the tables and chairs to the dance floor. By the looks of it, most of the guests were up and dancing, enjoying the music and the ambience of the wedding reception. Pulling Charlie towards a space on the dance floor, Nicola turned back to look at him. She hadn’t danced in ages, years. Not since she and Nathan got together. He hadn’t liked dancing. Always said it was just people putting on a silly show, letting themselves look foolish for the humour of others. She hadn’t agreed. She loved to dance. Or she had, but what Nathan wanted, Nathan got. She twisted her finger around a strand of hair as she stood awkwardly in front of him, suddenly unsure of herself.

‘Here.’ Stepping forward, Charlie wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling close to him as he swayed in time to the music.

Taking Charlie’s lead, she placed her hands around his neck and tried to match his slow movements. As they clung to each other, enjoying the feel of him in her arms, she closed her eyes, listening to the music and his rhythmic breathing. If only things could stay like this forever. If only they had time to get to know one another properly.

Opening her eyes, Nicola peered over his shoulder at the couples surrounding them, each and every one of them lost in their own world, their own circle.

‘This is perfect,’ Charlie whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

She smiled up at him. Yes, this was just perfect. Everything else could wait. All the worries about the future were just that. Bridges they’d cross when they came to them. For now, Charlie was here in her arms and she just needed to enjoy what they had between them.

26

‘So, tell me something else about yourself.’ With her head in his lap, Nicola took Charlie’s hand in hers, their fingers interlocked as she held it aloft, the flames from the campfire glowing in the background. Spending the evening at the farm with Charlie after the Landownes’ wedding was the perfect end to a perfect day. She didn’t have a clue what the time was, but the sun had set hours ago, and they’d spent the time talking, getting to know one another. He’d told her about his childhood, about moving across the country when his parents had split up, and she’d told him about her life here in Meadowfield at Pennycress Inn. They’d spoken about how their dreams had changed and grown as they’d got older. And she now knew he could name each and every character from all the Marvel films in less time than it took her to count them off on her fingers.

‘What do you want to know?’ He swept a strand of her hair back from her face.

‘Ooh, I don’t know.’ She watched the light from the flames flicker off her silver bracelet. There was a subject they hadn’t spoken about. One which they’d both skirted around. She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat. ‘What do you like about London so much?’

Charlie caressed the back of her hand with his thumb as she still held it aloft in the air. ‘That’s easy. I love the vibrancy of the city. The fact that whatever the day or time, somewhere will be open and something will be going on.’

‘The city that never sleeps…’

‘Exactly.’ He continued. ‘I love the fact that I can jump on the Tube and visit new places, go on new adventures and that there is always something, somewhere, new that I can learn about the place. Something I didn’t have a clue was there before.’

Nicola lowered their hands, letting them rest against her stomach.

‘I love the fast pace of my job, my apartment…’

‘Everything then?’ She spoke quietly, an uncomfortable heaviness forming in the pit of her stomach. London was a stark contrast to Meadowfield. And how could the calmness and slow pace of village life even try to compare with the bustling city?

‘Not everything, no.’ He leaned down to kiss her. ‘I don’t like the fact that you won’t be there when I go back.’

She smiled sadly. ‘I⁠—’

A loud crash sliced through the quiet and Nicola sat bolt upright, looking around, searching the shadows for any hint of what may have made the noise.

‘Stay here.’ Jumping up, Charlie made his way towards the edge of the field where the noise had come from.

‘No chance.’ Standing up, Nicola followed him, making sure to keep close. As they made their way across to the fence, she frowned and tugged on Charlie’s sleeve, pointing to a gap which had formed in the wooden fence. That’s what the sound must have been, the splintering of wood as the hole was formed in the fence panel.

Glancing at her, Charlie held his index finger against his lips as he crept closer.

The hole was big, big enough for a person to crawl through, but why would someone have bashed a hole in the fence instead of jumping over it? It wasn’t as though it was six feet tall or anything; it was barely three feet, just enough to border the farmhouse’s garden and the field.

Shrieking, she jumped back as a flash of white pushed past her. As whatever it was ran towards the campfire and the farmhouse, it triggered the outside lights into action and she realised it was Claudette.

‘Claudette!’ Charlie shouted as he ran after the sheep.

The sheep, clearly stunned by the lights, halted in her tracks as Charlie raced towards her.

Shaking herself, Nicola joined in the pursuit before slowing down as Charlie held his hand up. They crept up slowly behind Claudette, sure the element of surprise was on their side as they inched their way forward, but just as they both dived towards her, Claudette sprinted off again, darting from between their arms and causing both Nicola and Charlie to fall in a heap in the mud.

Looking across at Charlie, looking as stunned as she was feeling, Nicola threw her head back and laughed.

‘She’s done it again! I’m quickly learning that one is the best escape artist I’ve ever heard of.’ Charlie chuckled as he stood up and held his hand out towards Nicola.

‘Oh, she really is.’ Gripping his hand, she let herself be pulled up before wiping her palms down the front of her jeans. ‘She must have been on the loose for months now.’

‘Wow, really? She’s doing well then. I wouldn’t have thought a sheep could survive that long in the wild.’

Nicola shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I guess there’s enough grass in the village, plus all the flowers from people’s gardens she destroys.’

‘Yes, and I suppose my uncle’s farm is a one-stop shop for her.’ He ran his fingers through his hair and chuckled.

‘Absolutely. I can see why she has taken a liking to hanging out here.’ She shook her head. ‘Should we try and find her? See where she’s got to?’

‘No, I think we’ve done enough chasing for tonight. I’ll have a look for her tomorrow.’ Charlie nodded towards the farmhouse. ‘Now though, do you fancy a hot chocolate after all that drama?’

‘Yes, one of your special hot chocolates sounds perfect.’

Slipping her hand into his, they made their way into the farmhouse.

He held the door open for her and Nicola stepped inside. ‘Thanks.’

‘How long shall we give the lovely Claudette until she sneaks back through again?’ Charlie poured milk into a saucepan and turned the hob on. ‘I think I’ve caught a glimpse of her or had a run-in with her every day this week.’

‘Ah, I can imagine the villagers are pretty happy having her occupied for a bit.’ She laughed. She could just picture Miss Cooke congratulating Officer Duffey – who had been heading up the manhunt for Claudette ever since she’d turned up in Meadowfield – for a job well done in the next village meeting, unaware that the sheep had in fact just strayed a little further afield than been caught, reprimanded and sent away to the farm animal rescue they had lined up for her.

Charlie chuckled. ‘Maybe I should invite them all up here with their pitchforks?’

‘Haha, maybe. Although I do wonder if they secretly love having something juicy to gossip about during the village meetings rather than rant about how the number of cyclists using the High Street as a through-run has increased by two in the last six months.’

‘Is that true?’ He raised his eyebrow as he set down two mugs.

‘I doubt it. I’m not really sure Meadowfield can be accused of being a through-run to anywhere but farmland.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, I don’t know what Miss Cooke will find to talk about when Claudette finally sits still long enough to be captured.’

‘Maybe I should try to lure her into the barn myself, pop her in the back of my truck and return her to the stomping ground she so loves.’ After mixing heaped spoonfuls of cocoa powder into the saucepan, he poured the hot chocolate into two mugs.

‘Umm, and how’s it going catching her? So far, I mean?’ Nicola looked pointedly at the shirt that was hanging over the back of the pine kitchen table, certain it was the one he’d ripped when trying to catch Claudette before.

‘You’ve got me there. Not so well as it happens.’ He grinned at her before pulling open the fridge door.

She watched as he topped the hot drink with squirty cream before stepping forward and taking the can. ‘I’ll pop that back for you.’

‘Thanks.’ Brushing his lips against hers, he turned to pick up the chocolate flakes to sprinkle on top. ‘I’ve no marshmallows today, so chocolate flakes will have to do.’

Just as she pulled the fridge door open, she caught sight of a letter stuck to the fridge with a magnet. A letter headed with the local estate agent’s logo – Country & Farm Estate Agents of Meadowfield. Forcing herself to shut the door again, Nicola cleared her throat. ‘Sounds nice.’

‘Hopefully.’ Picking up a mug, he handed it across to her. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Umm, I noticed you’ve got a letter from the estate agents on the fridge…’

‘That’s right.’ Turning, he leaned against the counter, his mug in his hands. ‘They’ve been brilliant and even think they might have a potential buyer on the books.’

‘Oh, really?’ She forced a smile, although all she wanted to do was to cry or to tell him to stay.

Placing his mug back on the counter, he stepped towards her, taking her mug and sitting it next to his. Taking her hands in his, he looked her in the eye. ‘I⁠—’

They both looked to the open back door as another noise sounded. This time a series of clatters which continued. Looking back at each other, they spoke at the same time, ‘Claudette!’

‘I wonder where she is now.’ Nicola followed Charlie outside. Whatever he was going to tell her about the letter would simply have to wait. She’d have to speak to him about it another time, perhaps when or if they could find the stray sheep.

‘Over there. The noise sounds as though it’s coming from that barn.’

‘Oh no, is that where your equipment is stored?’ It definitely wasn’t the hay barn he was pointing to. And it didn’t sound like hay that was being knocked over or thrown about.

‘No, it’s where Jill’s carnival float is.’ He picked up speed as he jogged towards the door to the barn.

‘I thought that was in a field at the back of the farm?’ Picking up her pace, Nicola reached the open doorway just after Charlie.

‘Nope, sadly not. Miss Cooke has her stuff down there.’

Pausing in the doorway, they took in the scene in front of them. The trailer sat in the middle of the large barn, the plywood tree attached to one side hanging in half, wooden and cardboard cut-outs of forest animals either side of it, and in the centre of the float was a line of hay bales, presumably for the children to sit in.

And then Claudette was running full pelt towards them, a trail of bunting cut into the shape of leaves dragging behind her, a plywood fox clattering on the floor behind.

‘Stop!’ Charlie leapt towards her, missing her and landing heavily on the floor, the bunting now wrapped around his ankle and the plyboard fox sitting on his lap.

Nicola slapped her hand over her mouth to try to stifle the laughter erupting from inside her.

Looking up at her, Charlie held his arms out and began to chuckle.

Doubling over, she let the laughter out, wiping the tears which cascaded down her cheeks. She just couldn’t help herself, not when she was looking at him sitting on the floor of the barn strewn with stalks of hay, paintbrushes and pots of paint, whilst cradling a cut-out of a fox, a string of bunting hanging from his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I just…’

Placing the fox on the floor next to him, Charlie tried to stand up, falling back down after realising the bunting was wrapped around his ankles too.

‘Here, let me help.’ Still laughing, she began untangling him. ‘I really wish I’d thought to take a photo before helping you.’

‘Oi!’ Finally released, he leaned forward and pulled her towards him, them both falling against the floor.

She looked across at him as he pulled a strand of hay from her hair and cupped her cheek, their lips touching before he pulled away again.

‘About what I was going to say earlier…’ He sat up and pulled her to sitting next to him.

‘About the farm being up for sale?’ She swallowed. Did she really want to know?

‘Yes, about that.’ He raked his hand through his hair. ‘I’m really enjoying getting to know you…’

‘But you can’t put your life on hold to see where it might go.’ She finished his sentence for him and dusted off the knees of her jeans. ‘It’s fine. I understand.’

‘Well, that’s not quite what I was going to say. What I wanted to say was that I hope we can continue things even when I go back to London?’ He looked across at her and took her hand in his.

‘Oh.’ Although it’s what she’d hoped he’d want, hearing him say it was a whole different thing. Yes, he wasn’t saying he’d stay longer for her, but she couldn’t expect that. He had a job back in the city, a life. ‘That would be nice.’

‘Good.’ Leaning over, he pecked her on the lips before looking across at the float.

‘Wow.’ The damage was worse than she’d first thought. Not only had the fox and bunting been torn off and the large plywood tree been broken in half, but numerous cardboard animals lay strewn across the floor. ‘I guess we should probably try to fix it up before the forest school kids see it?’

27

Nicola knocked at her mum’s door. She had a key, but she never liked to use it when she knew her mum was home, just as her mum did the same for her. She’d pop round and let herself in during the day to check on Trixie, but when she knew Nicola was home, it was always the doorbell she tried first.

The cheerful yellow door opened, and her mum smiled at her. ‘Hello, Nicola! I wasn’t expecting you today.’

‘I’ve brought some of Jackson’s scones.’ She grinned and held up the bag of scones Jackson had given her, along with a bag with a tub of cream and a pot of jam in.

‘In that case, you’d better come in.’ Her mum laughed as she ushered her through to the living room. ‘I’ve only just popped the kettle on this instant. I won’t be a moment.’

Whilst her mum made the tea, Nicola sat down and set the scones, jam and cream out on the coffee table.

‘Here we go, love.’ Her mum lowered a tray with her flowery teapot and two cups and saucers on, plus a couple of little plates for the scones. ‘Now, what do I owe this pleasure?’

Nicola placed a scone on her mum’s plate before cutting her own in half. ‘Nothing. I just wanted a chat, really.’

‘Ah, I see. To do with this lovely farmer of yours?’

Nicola shifted her position on the sofa. Why had she thought she could keep anything from her mum? She always knew when something was worrying her. She smiled. ‘How do you do it?’

‘Do what, love?’ Vivienne passed across the jam.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the pot, Nicola began spreading the strawberry filled jam onto her scone. ‘Know when something’s the matter?’

Vivienne shrugged. ‘Call it mother’s intuition.’

She nodded and began spooning on the cream. ‘In that case, I guess there’s no point in me trying to deny it?’

‘Nope, absolutely not. Come on then, out with it.’ Vivienne leaned back on the sofa opposite Nicola, her eyes on her.

‘Yes, it’s to do with Charlie.’

‘You’ve not broken up already, have you?’

‘What? No!’ Nicola blinked. That was the last thing she wanted: to break things off with him, or even worse for him to finish with her. ‘He, umm, the farm is on the market now.’

‘Okay – you knew that was his plan, though, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I knew he wanted to sell. I just… I guess I thought we’d have more time together, with him here in Meadowfield, so we could see where things were going.’

‘I’m sure it will take its time to sell. It’s not as though there are a huge number of buyers looking to get into farming. Or to come to Meadowfield, for that matter.’ Her mum took a bite of her scone, immediately brushing the crumbs from her lips with a napkin. ‘I’m sure you’ll still have plenty of time together before he goes back to London.’

‘That’s the thing. I don’t think I will. The estate agents have told him they have someone on their books who’s been waiting for a farm to come up for sale in this area. It might not take long at all.’

‘Ah.’ Leaning forward, Vivienne placed her plate back on the table. ‘And he’s spoken to you about his plans when he moves, has he?’

Nicola nodded. ‘Yes, he has. He says he wants to still see me when he moves back.’

‘Okay, that’s positive then? That’s what you were hoping would happen, wasn’t it? He must have feelings for you if he wants to continue your relationship long-distance.’

‘I guess, bu…’ She shrugged. She didn’t know how to explain it, but it still felt final. Despite Charlie’s assurance that he wanted to continue their fledging romance, she couldn’t help but think about the pitfalls, about the what ifs.

‘Spit it out, love. What’s on your mind?’

Nicola sighed. Part of her didn’t want to voice her concerns in case it somehow gave them a footing in reality, but she also knew that if anyone could turn her fears on their head, it would be her mum. ‘He mentioned a while back that he and his ex finished because they were both busy working all the time. If that affected their relationship to the point of it breaking and they were both living in the same city, then what chance do we have living miles apart?’

‘You’ll still be able to travel to see him, and he to you.’

‘Yes, but that will just be at the weekend, and some weekends I work at Pennycress and I’m sure some weekends he’d be doing overtime, or whatever, so that probably leaves, what? One or two weekends a month. It’s not like we can just hop on a train and visit for the evening. It’s too far for that.’ There, she’d said it and just as she’d thought, now she’d spoken about her fears, she could feel them closing in on her.

‘No, I understand that, love.’ Vivienne leaned forward and placed her hand over Nicola’s. ‘But the distance could also bring you closer. If you only have a limited amount of time to spend together, then you’ll both make sure it’s quality time, won’t you?’

Nicola nodded slowly. Her mum might be right, but, still, after seeing Charlie every day since they’d begun dating, she couldn’t imagine not seeing him for weeks at a time, not having him there just down the road from her. ‘I guess so. I don’t know.’

‘What’s the alternative? You cut your losses and finish with him now?’

‘No!’ Nicola blurted the word out before she’d even had the time to think.

‘There you go then, love. You have no choice but to go with the flow and hope for the best. Listen to me, I’m going to be seventy in a couple of months, I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.’ Her mum picked up her teacup. ‘You’ve got everything to gain, but what have you got to lose?’

‘Umm, just my heart.’

‘Yes, but you’ve had that broken before, not too long ago, and see what happened? You found Charlie.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want Charlie to break it this time.’ Nicola stirred her tea, watching bubbles form in the liquid before they burst and dispersed. ‘And I feel differently about Charlie. I knew the relationship with Nathan was limping along way before he cheated on me, but with Charlie, I don’t know, I’ve not felt this way before.’

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Nicola nodded. ‘I hope so.’

‘It will. And talking of the toerag, have you heard from him again since your encounter with him outside the bakery?’

‘Nope. Nothing, thankfully.’ She supposed she had that to be grateful for.

‘Hmm, we need to sort you out a car in that case. Can’t have you cycling around on your old bike much longer. The weather will be turning soon enough.’

‘I’m okay for now. Thanks, Mum.’ Nicola knew her mum would try her very best to try to get her car replaced if she so much as hinted she was missing it, but that was the last thing she wanted. Nope, she’d get one herself in good time.

‘Tell me, how are the carnival preparations coming along?’

Nicola began telling her mum about Claudette and the disaster in the barn, and little by little, the fear she felt about Charlie leaving began to disperse. Her mum was right. If their relationship was meant to be, then they’d come through the other side and a long-distance relationship would be fine. They’d cope. As long as they could keep spending time together, even if it wasn’t as much as either of them wanted, then they could make it work.

28

‘This is nice. However much I enjoy spending time around the campfire at the farm, it’s good to be able to sit beneath a different section of sky.’ Charlie clicked glasses with Nicola before leaning back in his garden chair.

‘Not to mention my house comes with its own free hot water bottle for your lap.’ She pointed her glass of wine towards Trixie, who had been sitting curled up on his lap ever since he’d taken a seat.

‘Haha, yes. I can’t forget Trixie.’ He fussed over her, getting a purr for his efforts.

Nicola smiled. They hadn’t mentioned another word about the farm being up for sale, or what might or might not happen when he eventually moved back to London, and for that she was grateful. It meant she could push all thoughts of his departure to the back of her mind and just enjoy spending time with him. ‘Did Jill mention anything about the float?’

‘I managed to catch her and explain that Claudette had got into the barn before she saw the damage, so I think she was pleasantly surprised that we’d been able to fix as much of it as we had.’

‘That’s good then. Let’s hope Claudette doesn’t find her way back in and tear something else off it.’

‘Hopefully not. I’ve fixed the lock on the door and have told Jill to keep it locked. At least that way, their float shouldn’t get eaten before the day of the carnival.’ Charlie chuckled. ‘Who’d have thought that one lone sheep could cause as much destruction as she has?’

‘Haha, no.’ She took another sip of her wine before laughing. ‘It’s a good job it was Jill’s barn she broke into and not Miss Cooke’s. Can you imagine?’

‘That’s very true. I suspect Jill is a little more forgiving than Meadowfield’s mayoress.’

‘Absolutely. Especially when it comes to animals or children.’ Nicola smiled as she thought back to when they were younger and Jill had gone through a stage of sneaking the neighbourhood’s lost and damaged animals, pets or wildlife, into her parents’ shed to care for them. When her dad had finally found Jill’s makeshift animal rescue, she’d had two pigeons who couldn’t fly, a frog with three legs and four beetles she’d rescued from the girls’ toilet block at school. ‘Talking of Miss Cooke, are you coming to the village meeting next week?’

‘The village meeting?’ Charlie raised his eyebrows.

‘Yes, it’s when Miss Cooke usually gets the local police officer to talk about Claudette’s whereabouts, remember I mentioned them?’

‘Oh, I remember. I just rather assumed you were joking. I didn’t realise they were an actual organised event.’ She looked at him as an incredulous expression crossed his face.

‘Hey, it’s not that unheard of. A lot of small towns or villages still hold community meetings. It’s just to address any concerns or tell everyone about upcoming events in Meadowfield.’

He nodded.

Picking up one of Trixie’s catnip mouse toys from the middle of the table, she threw it at him and laughed. ‘Oi! they’re not that bad! I used to really enjoy them when I was growing up here. Me and Mum would go together and giggle at whatever weird and wonderful ideas the local residents had for fundraising or complaints of so-and-so’s gnome going missing. That sort of thing.’

‘They sound intriguing,’ he teased.

‘Are you going to come, then?’ She smiled. It would be a good way for Charlie to experience proper village life, and besides, it would just be nice to have him there with her.

‘Still no, I’m afraid.’

‘Aw, how come?’ She frowned.

Shrugging, Charlie took another sip of his drink. ‘I don’t know. They’re just not my thing.’

‘How do you know if you’ve never been to one before?’

‘Because they’re old-fashioned and quaint. And I’m already doing my bit for the village by lending my tractors and trailers for the carnival. I don’t need to go and sit in a stuffy hall and be strong-armed into donating my right kidney or listen to twenty-five encounters people have had with the stray sheep.’ He looked back down at Trixie.

‘Oh, okay.’ Rubbing her forehead, Nicola tried not to sound or look disappointed. But she was. She’d hoped he’d warm to the village before the farm sold. She shook her head. What was she thinking? He wasn’t going to just magically wake up one day and decide that he suddenly hated all he loved about London. He was going back, and that was final. Her mum was right, she’d just have to get used to the idea, make the most of the time they did have left together and then try her best at making a long-distance relationship work. She needed to change the subject before he realised how upset she was. ‘So, umm, have you checked out how Miss Cooke and the netball team are getting on with their carnival float?’

‘Nope.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t fancy getting caught up in whatever they’re doing. I get the distinct impression that if I ventured down there, Miss Cooke would have me painting, cutting or gluing something or other, and I’ve got enough to do as it is.’

‘You’re probably right. You’re best off staying as far away as possible.’

He chuckled. ‘I will, don’t worry.’

She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the warm summer evening air and the aroma of lavender and roses. She loved her garden. When she and Nathan had moved in seven years ago, the flower beds had been taken over by an assortment of weeds and the grass had been at least two feet high, but over their first summer she and her mum had worked tirelessly during every spare moment they had and the small oasis full of blooming summer flowers, various evergreens and herbs had been created.

‘I thought I caught sight of Clau—’ Charlie looked across to the side gate and frowned. ‘Did I hear someone just call your name through the gate?’

‘I hope not. The last time someone shouted at me through that gate it was Miss Cooke and she then bundled me in the minibus to come to the farm so they could take measurements of the trailer.’

Charlie chuckled. ‘Well, it doesn’t sound like a woman’s voice, so I guess that’s a good thing.’

‘Umm.’ Tilting her head, Nicola listened as her name was called again. She knew whose voice that was. She closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and pushing her chair back. It was Nathan and if there was one thing she knew about her ex, it was that he wouldn’t give up.

‘I’m guessing it’s not a good thing, after all?’ Charlie gently coaxed Trixie off his lap before standing up. ‘Shall I get rid of them for you?’

‘No, it’s okay. Thanks though. It’s my ex, Nathan, and he’ll just carry on until he’s spoken to me.’ Taking a final sip of her wine, she made her way from the small patio area at the end of the garden towards the side gate and pulled it open, making sure to stand in the between the wall of the cottage and the gate so he couldn’t just barge his way through. ‘Nathan, can I help you?’

‘Evening, Nic. You can indeed.’ Resting his hand on the wall of the cottage, he grinned.

Making sure she refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of her nickname despite her having asked him numerous times not to call her by it, she set her jaw and kept quiet. Let him do the talking. She wasn’t particularly interested in the reason he was here. She was more interested in how she could get rid of him as quickly as possible so she could get back to having a nice evening with Charlie.

‘I’ve come for my half of the furniture.’ He stood to the side and waved his arm behind him. ‘I’ve brought the trailer.’

Frowning, she looked past him and, sure enough, his car, with a small trailer attached, was parked on the street out front. ‘What do you mean your half of the furniture?’

‘Just that. I’ve found myself a little one-bed place over in Stratford-upon-Avon and I need my stuff.’

‘You took all your stuff when you left. Bye.’ She began closing the gate.

Sticking his foot out, Nathan pushed against the gate, forcing it open again. ‘No, I’ve got my clothes and my stuff. I need the sofa or at least the armchair, the microwave or cooker, the…’ He continued ticking the items off on his fingers.

‘Er, no. For one thing, the cooker and washing machine are the cottage’s, so you can’t just take them out without the landlady’s permission. And two, you left, remember? You moved in with Kerry. It’s not my fault you’ve now broken up – with the person you cheated on me with.’ She spat those last few words out. This was becoming ridiculous, him just thinking he could turn up time and time again demanding things! She balled her fists, trying to keep her voice and expression neutral and calm. The last thing she wanted was for him to realise he was winding her up. He’d love that.

‘That’s all water under the bridge now. Me and Kerry are over and I’ve come to get what is legally mine.’

‘Nothing is yours.’ Water under the bridge? She’d always have to fight off insecurities because of him. It didn’t matter if he and Kerry were over or not, what they’d done had still happened. ‘In fact, you still owe me money for paying off your debt.’

Turning to the side, Nathan rolled his eyes before looking back at her. ‘Not this again.’

‘Not this again?’ Nicola crossed her arms. Was he being serious? ‘Yes, this again. You owe me money and we had a deal; you’d pay me back by paying the finance on my car. And you broke it.’

‘Nothing was legally binding.’

A loud guffaw escaped her lips. ‘In that case, nothing here in the cottage is legally yours. Now please leave me alone.’

‘Oh, come on, that’s different. Just let me in. Just give me half an hour and you’ll never have to see me again.’ He placed the palm of his hand against the gate as she began to close it, pushing it open again.

‘Nathan, stop…’ She pushed back, the gate standing midway between open and closed. She could hear her own voice shaking. She just wanted him to go.

‘You heard her. Leave.’

Charlie’s voice boomed from behind her and she twisted around, watching him as he yelled at her ex. His jaw ticked with anger, and his face was ashen.

‘Hey, mate. No reason to be like that.’ Nathan immediately let go of the gate as Charlie stood next to Nicola, them both squeezing between the wall and the gate, not leaving an inch for Nathan to fight his way through even if he wanted to. ‘I’m only here for my things.’

Crossing his arms, Charlie glared at him.

‘Just go, Nathan. Just leave.’ Knowing Charlie was beside her, the stutter in her voice disappeared.

‘Fine, but I’ll be back.’

‘No, you won’t.’ Charlie kept his eyes on Nathan as he retreated down the path.

‘Whatever. I don’t need that rubbish, anyway.’ Waving his hand in dismissal, Nathan got into his car and drove off.

‘Are you okay?’ Charlie turned to Nicola, his expression instantly relaxing.

‘Yes, I’m fine. You didn’t need to come and be my bodyguard, though. I had it under control.’ She closed the gate firmly behind her ex. Hopefully shutting him out of her life once and for all.

‘Sorry, I…’ Charlie wavered. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing coming to support you. No one should speak to you like that.’

‘Yes, but I’m not always going to have your support, am I? Not when you move back to London.’ She fiddled with the latch on the gate, making sure to click the paddock down. Nathan needed to know he couldn’t mess with her, not that he could walk all over her if Charlie wasn’t around, but she could tell from his shocked expression that she shouldn’t have said anything. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it.’

‘Hey, you know I’ll always support you, right?’ He paused as they walked back to the table, holding her hands in his and looking her in the eye. ‘Wherever either of us might be, we’ll always have each other’s backs.’

She nodded slowly. It wasn’t quite the same though, was it? He might still have her back, but being over a hundred miles away wouldn’t be much good to her when Nathan came sniffing around again. Not that she was about to voice her fears right now. ‘I know.’

‘Okay. I just don’t want you thinking this long-distance thing is going to change how I feel about you.’ Cupping her cheek, Charlie gave her a short smile. ‘I can feel myself falling for you, Nic. Nothing’s going to come between us.’

She swallowed. He was falling for her? ‘I feel the same about you.’

‘Good.’ Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug, and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ve never felt this way before.’

‘Me too.’ She smiled against the soft fabric of his uncle’s well-worn checked shirt, but she couldn’t deny the doubts in her head. They might be falling for each other, but would that really be enough to overcome the reality of hardly spending any time together? Of running their own completely separate lives?

29

‘Here, let’s see if we can get further to the front.’ Charlie grabbed Nicola’s hand and began weaving through the crowds gathered along Meadowfield High Street. The carnival was in full flow and after making sure all the children were safely in position on the back of the trailers, Nicola and Charlie had run ahead to find a good spot to watch the procession.

‘Sorry, thank you.’ Nicola smiled as she let Charlie pull her towards the edge of the path, right in full view of the approaching carnival. The brass band, the same one which had played at Suzy and Owen’s wedding, led the procession, their conductor, Jerry, leading the way with some very clever back-walking. As soon as they stopped, Charlie pulled Nicola into his arms so her back was against his chest, his arms wrapped around her middle.

‘Oh look, there’s Miss Cooke’s float and the netball team.’ Charlie pointed towards the first float in the possession, hot on the heels of the brass band. Miss Cooke was riding upfront in the cab of the tractor next to one of the farmhands working at Little Mead. ‘Is that the royal wave she’s been practising?’

Letting out a splutter, Nicola tried to hide her laughter as Miss Cooke waved at them. ‘I think it might well be.’

The trailer the tractor was pulling had been transformed into a netball court, complete with its own goal posts and goal rings, the girls trying their best to stay upright and play netball as the float bumped over the cobbles.

Next up were floats from the local litter picking group, the history club and even their very own bridge club. Nicola waved as her mum whistled to get her attention from where she was perched on a hay bale in the back of the float, playing cards taped to her jumper.

Nicola leaned back against Charlie’s chest, the warmth from his body warming hers, and smiled. They hadn’t said a word about him leaving, not since that night in her back garden when Nathan had caused a scene. And she was content with that. It was easier not to think about it, easier to pretend he was here to stay.

She held his hands as Meadowfield’s children’s dance club danced their way past them. Having decided not to have a float this year, the youngsters pivoted and jived their way down the High Street. Clapping her hands as one boy did an impromptu backflip, Nicola glanced up at Charlie. ‘So, when are you learning how to do one of those?’

‘You mean you don’t think I can already?’ he asked, raising his eyebrow.

‘You can?’ Twisting in his arms, she widened her eyes. ‘Seriously?’

‘Nope, sadly not.’ Charlie chuckled. ‘I had you going for a moment though, didn’t I?’

‘Haha, you sure did.’ Turning back, she felt Charlie’s chin dip to her shoulder as he spoke into her ear. ‘Jill’s float is coming up next. Let’s hope Claudette isn’t playing stowaway.’

‘Umm, I don’t think that would be such a smart idea if she was. Can you imagine the welcome she’d get from the residents she’s been terrorising over the last few months?’

‘True. Let’s hope she’s had the good sense to stay away then.’

Nicola laughed. ‘She’s turning you into a softie.’

Straightening his back, Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Ah, she’s not so bad. Besides, where has it got me, chasing after her? A ripped shirt and her tying me up in bunting.’

‘I don’t think she intentionally tied you up.’ A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

‘Don’t underestimate her.’ Charlie wrapped his arms around Nicola again, pulling her back against him. ‘Sheep can be dangerous creatures.’

‘Uh-huh. Very dangerous. They might even eat your roses if you have any.’

‘Are you mocking me?’ Charlie chuckled.

‘Absolutely.’ She grinned and settled back against him, turning her attention back to the forest school float. Jill had worked her creative magic as always and every inch of the edge of the trailer had been covered with plywood trees, grass and cardboard animals, each lovingly painted by the children waving from their positions sitting on hay bales, huge grins on their faces, proud of their accomplishment. ‘Aw, that looks amazing.’

‘I know why she and at least some of her kids have been at the farm all the spare hours now.’ Charlie began clapping.

‘I can imagine. Every day this last week or so, she’s been telling me she’s going straight over there after finishing work.’ Nicola whooped in delight as Jill spotted them. ‘Love it!’

As the trailer dipped over the cobbles, one of the children, dressed as a bunny, jumped up and began hopping around the trailer. Jill tugged on their outfit and pointed to the hay bale. Reluctantly, the child sat back down and instead held their hands above their head in bunny ear style.

Nicola laughed.

‘So adorable,’ Charlie whispered in her ear. ‘I can’t wait to start a family.’

Looking over her shoulder at him, she searched his face. Was he implying what she thought he was? Was he suggesting that he could see a proper future with her? With kids involved too?

A loud clatter sounded, pulling her attention away from him and towards the forest school float instead. The plywood fox, the one they had reattached after Claudette’s vandalism attempt, had fallen into the large painted tree they’d fixed, which in turn had cracked in half again, leaving the top half of the tree hanging precariously over the edge of the trailer. Some of the wooden branches were now dragging along the cobbles beneath, leaving a trail of paper leaves in the float tracks.

‘Mr Fox!’ The bunny screamed as the fox fell from the side of the trailer and lay stranded in the middle of the road before the wheel of the float bumped over it.

‘I think that’s my fault. I obviously didn’t secure it again well enough.’ Charlie ducked beneath the ribbon keeping the spectators on the path and hurried towards the trailer.

Joining him, Nicola rushed towards the fox and picked it up. By the time she’d run ahead to where the float now was, Charlie had hopped over the side of the trailer.

‘Here, take my hand.’ Holding his hand out towards her, Charlie nodded towards the trailer.

Was he mad? He wanted her to jump onto the float, movie-star style? Yes, in the movies they liked to run and jump onto moving trains or lorries which were speeding away at a million miles per hour and this was a carnival float barely hitting five miles per hour, but still?

‘Come on, I’ve got you.’ He ushered her forward, his hand still ready to help her.

She frowned. Was she actually going to do this? What if she ended up face down on the road in a heap in front of all her friends and neighbours? She glanced behind her as the spectators began clapping.

‘Go on, Nic!’ She heard Laura’s voice call out from somewhere in the crowds.

‘Okay, please don’t let me fall,’ Nicola muttered before taking Charlie’s hand. Feeling his grip tighten around her wrist, she matched the speed of the trailer, the plywood fox still beneath her arm. Willow, dressed as a hedgehog, soft spikes and all, leaned over and took the fox from her, freeing her other hand, which Charlie grabbed too.

With cheers from the crowd behind her, Nicola took a leap of faith and, thanks to Charlie lifting her over the edge of the trailer, landed in a heap against the hay bales. Covering her hands with her face, she laughed. She’d actually done it. She’d jumped into a moving vehicle. The float may have been crawling along at a snail’s pace, but she’d still done it.

Lowering her hands, she pulled herself into a sitting position as raucous applause erupted around her.

‘Go, Auntie Nic!’ Willow jumped up and down, clapping her hands together.

‘Careful, Willow. Sit back down, sweetie.’ Jill leaned forward and patted Willow’s spot on the hay bale.

Twisting on the spot and giving Nicola an eyeful of fabric spikes as she did so, Willow slumped down on the hay bale as instructed. ‘I want to do that. I want to do what Auntie Nic just did.’

‘No, that was very naughty, Nic.’ Jill used her hand to shield her mouth from her daughter and mouthed, ‘Wow!’

‘Yes, very naughty.’ Charlie winked at Nicola as he joined in.

‘Uh-huh, don’t try that, Willow.’ Scrabbling to her feet, Nicola glanced around the group of animals, all eyes fixed upon her. ‘Very dangerous.’

Charlie turned back to the dismembered tree and began tugging at the branches to lift them from the road, his muscles straining through the fabric of his shirt.

‘Here, my turn to help.’ Crawling across to where he was crouching, Nicola smiled at him before helping him pull up the fallen half of the painted tree.

As the wooden branches scraped across the edge of the trailer and the paper leaves were shaken free, Willow crawled across to them and began picking up the leaves, Jill ushering her back to her seat and taking her daughter’s place.

With the branches and top half of the plywood tree safely on the floor of the trailer, Jill passed them a ball of string and between the three of them, they managed to secure the bottom half off the tree, albeit more than a little lopsided against the side of the trailer.

With a final effort, Nicola and Charlie hoisted the top half of the tree into position and, in a half-crouching, half-sitting position, held the wood in place for all to see whilst Jill gripped the fox.

Shifting against the metal bed of the trailer, Nicola jammed herself against the side of it, her arms still in the air supporting the wooden structure, and nudged Charlie. When she’d got his attention, she whispered, ‘So, this is our punishment for not fixing Claudette’s vandalism to the float properly.’

‘I think so.’ Charlie grimaced.

‘I’m not going to be able to feel my arms by the end of the carnival,’ Nicola hissed.

‘Nor me.’ Chuckling, Charlie scooted over closer to her, so they were both hidden from view of the spectators behind the large wooden tree. ‘It does make me wonder what Claudette will get up to next.’

‘I’m sure she’s planning on her next adventure as we speak.’ She smiled at him. This wasn’t quite how she’d envisaged the day of the carnival to unfold, but it was a memory she knew she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. ‘Still think Meadowfield is quaint?’

Charlie chuckled again, louder this time. ‘Can it get any quainter than having to jump onto a moving carnival float in front of hundreds of spectators to hold a wooden tree painted by a dozen forest school kids because the village runaway sheep tried to eat it?’

She scrunched up her nose. ‘Hmm, when you put it like that…’

Moving a little, he changed his grip on the tree and reached out to place one hand over hers, so they were both holding it in the same place. ‘Quaint isn’t all bad, though. I’m beginning to realise that.’

‘You are?’ She grinned as a dart of hope shot through her heart.

‘Well, yes, I mean I can’t very well walk down Oxford Street and see a procession of tractors and decorated trailers, can I? Much less be in a position where I’m needed to rescue a wooden tree or have the woman I’m seeing risk her life to save a fox, real or not, from certain tyre marks and then into jump into a moving vehicle.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you can.’ Nicola grinned. Charlie was beginning to like quaint. Or to at least see the advantages of small village living. That’s what he was admitting to, wasn’t it?

30

‘Just one quick drink and then I’d better run home and feed Trixie before she begins yelling or ventures down here to find me.’ Nicola spoke to Charlie over her shoulder as she pulled the heavy pub door open. The carnival was over for another year and the task of dismantling the floats left for another day as people congregated in the street, buying food from the various pop-up stalls which lined the market square, while others enjoyed a drink or two at the local.

‘I can imagine she’d be the sort of cat to send out a search party.’

‘You have no idea.’ Nicola smiled as they stepped through the door.

‘Woohoo, and here’s to the two local heroes, Nicola and Charlie!’ Neil Parsons’ voice rose above the general hubbub and chatter of the pub as he walked towards them.

‘Hardly heroes. Anyone would have done the same.’ Charlie shook his hand as Neil pulled him towards him and slapped him on the back.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t have, not with my dodgy knee, at least.’ Neil turned his attention to Nicola. ‘Well done, Nic.’

‘Aw, it was nothing.’ She could feel her cheeks redden as she realised everyone was looking at them.

‘Go and order some drinks. On me.’ Neil nodded towards the bar.

‘Thank you,’ Nicola mumbled as they made their way towards the bar. She instantly relaxed as she spotted Laura and Jackson sitting at the end of the bar and, taking Charlie’s hand, they walked across to meet them.

‘Hey, you two. Congrats on being the local heroes.’ Jackson stood up and drew Charlie in for a hug, whilst Laura did the same to Nicola.

‘Haha, if that’s the reception someone gets when they help fix the chaos the runaway sheep has created, then I’d love to see what will happen when someone eventually catches up with her.’ Charlie pulled out a barstool for Nicola before sitting down himself.

‘Claudette did that?’ Jackson widened his eyes.

‘She seems to have taken a liking to the farm and broke into the barn Jill was storing the carnival stuff in.’ Charlie wiped his palm across his face. ‘I’m sounding like a real villager now, aren’t I? Attributing break-in skills to that damn sheep.’

‘Haha, to be fair, she does seem particularly clever, but, yes, you are, mate.’

‘Cheers.’ Charlie turned to the bartender as she slid a pint towards him.

‘Thank you.’ Taking the glass of wine she was handed, Nicola took a sip, unsure where this conversation was going but interested in hearing Charlie’s response.

‘So, have you thought any more about staying then? Taking on your uncle’s farm full-time? You must know it inside out by now, anyway.’ Jackson clinked glasses with Charlie and Nicola.

‘Er, no.’ Charlie shifted on the stool as he took a sip from his drink. ‘Village life is sweet and all, but not for me, I’m afraid.’

Nicola gripped her glass between her fingers as all the joy she’d felt from the events of the day quickly dissipated, leaving her feeling empty. She should have known what his answer to Jackson’s question would have been but after he’d admitted he was warming to village life she’d stupidly got her hopes up that there might just be a miniscule chance he’d change his mind and stay on in Meadowfield. How could she have been so naïve?

‘Oh, that’s a shame. Especially as the farmer’s uniform suits you so well.’ Jackson used his glass to indicate the checked flannel shirt Charlie was sporting.

‘Ha, yes, maybe I’ll take some back to the city with me, start a new fashion trend there.’ Charlie glanced down at his shirt.

‘Well, in all seriousness, I, for one, will be sad to see you go.’

‘Thanks, I’ll…’

As Jackson and Charlie’s conversation continued, Laura nudged Nicola and mouthed, ‘You okay?’

Nicola nodded, keeping one ear open to the conversation Jackson was having with Charlie. There had been no big change of heart for him then, despite the fact he’d worked so hard to help the forest school carnival creation finish the possession in one piece – or mostly one piece anyway. ‘Yep, all good.’

Laura nodded slowly, seemingly being able to read her mind.

Nicola glanced across at Charlie, who was busy describing to Jackson the state they’d found the float in when they’d discovered Claudette had been up to her old tricks again. Looking back at Laura, she tried to think of something to say – anything which didn’t involve Charlie moving back to London. They’d had such a great day at the carnival. She wasn’t ready to think about how she was going to feel when he left. ‘So, what with the Landownes’ wedding all over and now the carnival too, I wonder what will be next?’

‘I think we can just enjoy a few weeks of relative normality at the inn.’ Laura smiled.

‘I’ll drink to that.’ Holding her drink up, Nicola clinked glasses with her.

‘I can’t believe how quickly this year has flown by so far. I suppose we have only been open a few months really, but it definitely feels longer!’

‘It does. Oh, I guess we need to start thinking about what we’ll do at Christmas soon.’

‘Haha, yes, I noticed just the other day that a couple of hotels in Stratford-upon-Avon have already opened their books for Christmas dinner and Christmas work parties.’ Laura shook her head. ‘Let’s enjoy the rest of the summer first, though. Get through the craziness of the school holidays and then begin to make clear decisions when bookings have calmed down a little.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ Nicola grinned before tuning into Charlie and Jackson’s conversation again, the words ‘estate agent’ sounding alarm bells in her head.

‘Yep, hoping for a first viewing of the farm by the end of the week, all being well. Miss Taunton has promised me she’s already been in contact with a prospective buyer who’s been looking for a similar property and farm in the area for a while now.’ Charlie caught Nicola’s eye and reached out, placing his hand on the leg of her jeans.

‘That does sound promising, then.’ Jackson nodded.

‘It sure does.’

She had to get out of here. She had to get away from the conversation. She could feel the future she was beginning to picture with Charlie disappearing in front of her. Pulling her mobile from the back pocket of her jeans, Nicola placed her wine glass on the bar and holding her phone up, she nodded towards the door and mouthed, ‘Won’t be a minute.’

Charlie frowned ever so slightly as he pushed her glass further onto the bar. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Yep, just need to take this.’ Forcing a smile, Nicola walked towards the door and pushed it open, grateful to fill her lungs with the fresh air outside. She walked quickly through the tables in the courtyard towards the street beyond and, once she’d stepped out of the vicinity of the pub, she slowed her pace.

Tapping the screen of her mobile absent-mindedly, she slipped it back into her pocket. There was no call. She’d just needed to get out, to save herself from listening to Charlie’s plans, to escape hearing the truth of the fact that, all being well, the farm would be sold in the near future. The very near future. And Charlie would be gone from Meadowfield.

Perching on a bench at the side of the street, she watched as people walked past, laughing and chatting amongst themselves as they drank smoothies or picked at candyfloss purchased from the street stalls, children skipped by holding huge balloons – dinosaurs, ballerinas, dogs – while the local litter-picking team had jumped straight from their own carnival float to clear the streets of Meadowfield of abandoned paper cups, lollipop sticks and runaway balloons, filling their purple bin liners.

‘Hey, Nic, there you are. You okay?’

Turning, Nicola watched as Laura hurried towards her. ‘Phone call.’

‘Uh-huh, why’s it in your pocket then?’ Laura gave her a quick smile. ‘I’m not daft. I know that trick.’

Nicola turned back to watch the litter pickers, her voice low. ‘Was it that obvious? Did anyone else notice?’

Laura shook her head. ‘Not at all and the men are deep in conversation, anyway.’

‘Hmm, yes. About how desperate Charlie is to escape the quaint streets of Meadowfield.’

Laura lowered herself to the bench next to her. ‘It must be difficult hearing him talk about leaving.’

Nicola nodded. ‘I know I’ve got absolutely zero right to be so upset. I knew he was leaving. Right from before we began dating, I’d always known he was only here on a temporary basis, but…’

‘You’ve still got every right to feel as you do.’

‘No, I don’t. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. I knew it would end up being a long-distance thing if we lasted this long.’ She shifted position on the wooden bench. ‘I don’t know. I guess I thought we’d have longer together. Longer to get to know one another. Longer enough to know if this was serious or not.’

‘And you’re not sure now?’

Nicola sighed. ‘Oh, I’m sure. I’ve fallen for the guy, hook, line and sinker, haven’t I?’

‘And him? Has he told you how he feels about you?’ Laura spoke quietly.

‘Kind of.’ Nicola thought back to that evening in her garden. ‘He’s told me he’s not felt like this about anyone else before and that he feels as though he’s falling for me, but what does that even mean?’

‘Just that.’ Laura smiled. ‘You must see the way he looks at you?’

‘Umm.’ Nicola shrugged. She had. She’d thought he felt the same way as she did, but then why was he so desperate to leave? ‘I…’ Biting down on her bottom lip, she paused. She couldn’t admit the truth. She couldn’t admit that she’d got her hopes up, started to dream about a future which Charlie had never promised her. She couldn’t admit any of it, not even to Laura.

‘Go on, you can tell me. I won’t repeat anything you say to me.’

‘Okay, but you’re going to think I’m being really stupid, selfish even.’ Nicola looked sidelong at her. She knew she could trust Laura not to say anything. She may not have known her long, but they spent so many hours together at work, she felt as though she knew her more than most people.

‘You, selfish? I don’t think you could be if you wanted to.’ Laura rubbed Nicola’s forearm. ‘Try me.’

‘Okay then.’ Taking a deep breath, Nicola began to talk, the words suddenly spilling out of her. She’d kept how she was feeling close to her heart for what felt like a while now and now she was about to give her thoughts a voice. Even if she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. ‘I just thought that the more he got to know the village, the people in it, the community events we put on, such as the carnival, then he’d begin to see it in a different light. That it would make him change his mind and want to stay.’

‘Right, well, spending time here probably has given him a better insight into the village. He probably does like it more than he thought he would when he first came, but I suppose he’s already got a life back in London, a job that he can’t walk away from.’

Nicola wrung her hands in her lap and let slip what she was really thinking, what had been playing on her mind for the past few days. ‘I just thought he’d get to know me better and want to stay for me.’

‘Oh, Nic…’ Sliding across the bench towards her, Laura wrapped her arm around her friend and drew her closer.

‘I know, I know.’ Nicola used the edge of her T-shirt to swipe at the tears falling from her eyes. ‘I told you it was selfish. I told you I was selfish.’

‘Hey, you’re not selfish. Not one bit. That’s not a selfish thing to think at all. Everything’s just more complicated than that.’

Nicola took a shuddering breath. ‘It’s not, though, not really. He has a way of life here, a job, all set up for him. He just doesn’t feel as strongly as I do about him. That’s the reality, isn’t it?’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘Argh, I can’t believe I’ve just said that out loud. I mean, why does he have to be the one who moves here? Yes, he has the farm. He could just stay on at Little Mead, quit his job in London, sell his apartment, and he’d be sorted. But I could do the same, couldn’t I? I could move to London. I can get another job, another place to rent. I’m just being selfish to even think it.’ She slumped her back against the bench.

‘No, you’re not being selfish. Please don’t ever think that. You’re the least selfish person I know.’ Laura pulled a tissue from her pocket and passed it across to Nicola.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the tissue, she unfolded it and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I am selfish, though. Nathan would agree with me there. He turned up the other day asking – no, demanding, half the furniture in the cottage.’

Laura raised her eyebrow. ‘Oh yes, because he’s the one that cheated and ran off with your ex-best friend and you’re the selfish one.’

Nicola laughed, a small, tinny laugh. ‘Now, when you put it like that…’

‘Exactly. And as for Charlie, it’s normal to think like this. You want him close? You want to give the relationship you have with him the best chance possible. You’re just thinking of solutions, you’re not being selfish.’

‘Thanks.’ Straightening her back, Nicola folded the damp tissue. ‘You won’t say anything to him, will you?’

‘No, of course I won’t. You know you can trust me.’

‘I know.’ She turned to Laura and indicated her face. ‘Do I look like I’ve been crying?’

Taking the tissue from Nicola’s hand, Laura dabbed at a spot beneath her left eye before shaking her head. ‘You’re all good. Shall we head back inside?’

‘Yes, okay.’ Standing up, Nicola linked arms with Laura as they walked back inside. Maybe she should give some serious thought to moving to London with Charlie?

31

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay on to give you a hand? I feel awful leaving you like this.’ Standing in the middle of the Pennycress kitchen, Nicola looked around her. Crammed onto every tabletop and inch of work surface were strewn the contents of the cupboards: crockery, spices, tins, packets of food. Everything you could imagine should be stored in a kitchen filled every available space.

‘Nope, you go. Escape while you can.’ Laura laughed as she leaned against the work surface, a large saucepan in one hand and a packet of pasta in the other. ‘And I’d run before you find the doorway blocked by packets of cereal.’

Nicola looked from Laura to Jackson, who was busy cleaning out the cupboard nearest the kitchen door.

‘Honestly go. We’ve got this under control.’ Jackson smiled at her, a cloth in one hand and a jar of salt in the other.

‘Okay.’ Grimacing, Nicola backed away, however guilty she felt in leaving them, she was also grateful to be spared an evening of overtime, cleaning out cupboards. Ever since Jackson had moved in, he’d been itching to rearrange the kitchen, but she hadn’t realised his idea of rearranging would be quite so intense and she didn’t think Laura had either. Maybe it was a chef thing?

‘If we don’t answer the door in the morning, send a sniffer dog, Nic. We’ll likely have been crushed by the baked beans or trapped in the spaghetti or something,’ Laura called after her.

Jackson chuckled. ‘Give me an hour and it’ll all be sorted.’

Nicola laughed as she closed the front door behind her. For some reason, today had been a long day. It wasn’t as though she’d had any extra work to do or anything pressing to deal with. In fact, now the Landownes’ wedding was over and the carnival too, things had gone back to normal. All she could think was it was because she hadn’t been sleeping that well, tossing and turning until late. Part of the reason being that she and Charlie had slipped into the comfortable routine of spending time together every evening, and the other part was simply the fact she was taking longer to actually get to sleep than she normally did.

Up until recently, she used to be able to fall asleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow – even during her break-up from Nathan she’d been able to sleep – but now, every time she closed her eyes, her dreams were empty. She was struggling to picture a future with Charlie. A future where a long-distance relationship could work out.

Each time she convinced herself, his voice would echo in the back of her mind, reminding her that his previous relationship had ended due to both of them working too many hours, due to lack of time together. How was their relationship supposed to overcome that same issue when they were over a hundred miles apart?

And when she did eventually fall into a deep slumber, she’d wake up hours later, not quite being able to recall why, but deep down knowing she must have been dreaming about her and Charlie’s relationship failing.

Clicking the wrought-iron gate at the end of the front garden closed, Nicola snapped her head up as she heard her name being called. It was Jill pushing a sleepy Kasey in his buggy. Holding her hand up in a wave, she waited until she’d caught up with her. ‘Hi, Jill.’

‘Hi, I was hoping I’d catch you.’ Peering over the handle and hood of the buggy to the child inside, Jill sighed and carried on pushing it back and forth. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m trying to get this horror off to sleep. Willow has some friends over for a sleepover and so he’s refusing to settle, knowing there’s more exciting things such as eating popcorn and painting each other’s nails going on downstairs, so I’ve left Gerald at home and we’re off on a long walk. Isn’t that right, Kasey?’

Kasey turned, burying his face in the knitted dog toy he was holding.

‘Aw, good luck with that.’

‘Haha, I think I’ll need it. I’ve already lapped the village twice.’

Nicola smiled. She didn’t know how Jill did it. She was always so calm despite juggling a million things.

‘Anyway, I’m glad I’ve caught you. One, because now I don’t have to walk on my own, and two, because I was going to check with you if you think Charlie will be happy for me to come and collect all the carnival paraphernalia sometime this week.’

‘Oh, um, yes, I should think so.’ She shrugged.

‘Good. I don’t want to leave it all in his barn. He took some persuading to agree to lend us the trailer, so I don’t want to take advantage and put him off the idea when next year comes along…’ Jill stopped mid-sentence and looked across at her friend. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think. He’s become such a part of this village that I keep forgetting he’s planning on leaving soon.’

Nicola shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. You and me both, to be honest.’

‘Ah, it must be tough to have met someone, knowing he won’t be around much longer. Still, think of all those weekends spent in the big lights of London.’ Jill grinned. ‘I’ve always thought how nice it must be to be able to spend time between the city and a place like Meadowfield. The two extremes, really. You know, you hear about all these commuters living in flats in London during the week and then coming to their country houses for weekends and holidays.’

‘Yes,’ Nicola answered, trying her best to inject as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could. The truth was, it didn’t sound like a dream scenario at all, it sounded like quite the opposite. She just wanted to be with Charlie. Full time. She didn’t want to settle for snatched days here and there.

‘That’ll be you two, won’t it?’ Jill shushed Kasey as his eyes began to close.

‘I suppose it will.’ Nicola spoke quietly so as not to disturb the small toddler. She could always trust Jill to find the positives in any situation. ‘Still, it’s not going to be the same as having him down the road.’

Jill shook her head solemnly. ‘Yes, that will be a difficult transition.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Nicola nodded.

‘But it’ll be worth it.’ Jill leaned into her friend, giving her a quick hug. ‘Once you’ve both got used to it, it’ll work so well. I’ve got a really good feeling about you two.’

‘You have?’ Jill had always had a knack of calling out her ex-boyfriends, of telling her she should walk away and that they weren’t right for her, that she deserved better. And she had a hundred per cent track record of being right so far, Nathan included. ‘I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said you could see a future with me and someone I’m dating.’

‘Ah, well, there you go then. Believe me.’ She tapped the side of her nose as they began walking again. ‘Seriously though, you and Charlie, I can see you going the whole way with him – marriage, kids, settling down.’

Keeping her eyes fixed on the path ahead, Nicola nodded. That’s what she wanted, what she dreamed of when she let herself. But the truth was, there were just too many obstacles standing in the way of them having a proper relationship, let alone marriage or kids. ‘That’s going to be pretty difficult when we don’t live anywhere close to each other.’

‘It’ll happen. Mark my words. Who was it who said love could conquer all?’ Jill shook her head. ‘I can’t remember, but it’s true.’

Nicola took a deep breath in. ‘Maybe you’re right.’

‘I’m always right.’ Jill grinned.

‘Haha, you have been so far.’ As they reached the entrance to The Twistle, Nicola paused. ‘I’d invite you in for a cuppa, but I’m guessing you want to push through until he’s fully asleep.’

‘Oh yes, this is the sleepiest he’s been on my’ – stretching her arm out, Jill checked her watch – ‘two-hour walk. And I’m not giving up yet.’

‘Okay, see you tomorrow.’ Nicola waved to Kasey, who, despite looking as though he was ready to drop off, had seemed to perk up a little now the rhythm of the buggy moving had paused.

‘Oh yes, I’ve ordered some new plants for the bottom of Pennycress’ garden. You know, down by the bird table? I can’t wait to see what they look like once I’ve got them in.’

‘Sounds good. Catch you tomorrow.’ Nicola waved before turning and heading to her cottage. She felt better after her conversation with Jill. More hopeful.

32

Closing the gate behind her, Nicola turned back to the cottage and frowned. What on earth was that? Sitting just in front of the doorstep was a huge cardboard box. It must have been at least a metre in height and half a metre in width. Easily. She hadn’t ordered anything for ages, and she was certain she’d have remembered something that big if she had.

Kneeling down, she read the address label. Yep, it was definitely addressed to her. Unlocking the side gate, she threw her handbag on the slabs just inside the back garden and returned to the mystery package. Leaning it slightly on its edge, she dragged it towards the gate, angling it to fit it through the gateway.

Once she’d got it inside the garden, she closed the gate behind her. She’d go and get the kitchen scissors and then find out what it was.

As soon as she’d unlocked the back door, Trixie came bolting outside and nosed up against the huge box. ‘Anyone would think you’d been waiting for me to come home just to let you out. You do remember you’ve got a cat flap, don’t you?’

Ignoring her, Trixie readied herself before making the leap to the top of the box.

Leaning down, Nicola pushed against the cat flap, checking it hadn’t locked itself before shaking her head. It was fine.

Armed with the kitchen scissors, she joined Trixie back outside and lifted her from where she’d settled on the top of the box before scouring the Sellotape and opening it.

‘Ahh.’ Nicola sighed as she lifted the cardboard flaps and was met with an image of a pizza oven. She’d forgotten about that. It was the one she’d put in a preorder for, for Nathan’s birthday, and she’d meant to cancel when she’d received the email about it being despatched soon.

Slumping on the garden bench, she rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do with the thing now? And what was so special about it that he’d wanted her to preorder it six months ago anyway? Who even waited that long for something they could buy down the local garden centre? Nathan, that was who.

Trixie jumped up onto her lap and nudged her head against Nicola’s chin, a long string of high-pitched meows escaping her mouth.

‘Come on then, let’s get you some grub.’ Picking her up, Nicola cradled her in her arms as she walked back into the kitchen before letting her jump down to the floor, where she continued her ravenous wails. ‘Oh, you poor thing. Starving again, are you?’ Rolling her eyes, Nicola glanced at Trixie’s food bowl, still half full of cat biscuits, before pulling out a tin of wet cat food. ‘I know, I know, how dare I leave biscuits for you to munch on throughout the day? Biscuits are only for the real emergencies, aren’t they?’

After spooning the chicken flakes into Trixie’s bowl, Nicola picked up the post from the work surface. Her mum must have been round today or else these would still be lying on the doormat.

‘So that’s why the biscuits got left, hey? Nanny popped by to give you some treats.’ Nicola smiled. After not having pets whilst she was running the inn, her mum was making up for it now by doting on Trixie.

The doorbell rang through the cottage, the noise too loud for such a small space. Laying the post back down, mostly leaflets advertising car washes and tyre fitting services, not that she needed any of those services now, Nicola walked through to the hallway and pulled the door open, a smile erupting on her face when she saw who her visitor was. ‘Charlie, hi.’

‘Hey, I brought dinner.’ Stepping inside, Charlie kissed her before nodding towards the pizza box in his hand.

Laughing, Nicola closed the door behind him and led the way through into the garden, grabbing a couple of wine glasses and a bottle from the fridge as they walked through the kitchen.

‘So I know we’ve not had the most important pizza relationship discussion yet, so I’m afraid I might just be begging for your forgiveness this evening.’

Sitting down at the garden table, Nicola began pouring the wine. ‘Let me guess, you’ve gone for a Hawaiian?’

‘Haha, that I have.’ Placing the pizza box in the middle of the table, he flung the lid open to reveal the ham and pineapple topped cheesy pizza. ‘Do you forgive me?’

Looking up at him, she waited until he was sitting in the chair opposite her before she passed him a glass. ‘I more than forgive you. I thank you.’

‘Phew.’ He dragged his forearm across his forehead dramatically. ‘I guess we are compatible then.’

Laughing, Nicola picked up a slice of pizza, pulling it away from the box until the string of cheese attaching it to the other slices had snapped. ‘Although, ironically, this was the one day you didn’t have to bring pizza. We could have made our own.’

‘Oh, yes?’ He took a sip of his drink.

‘Yep, I’ve just received that monstrosity over there.’ Nicola waved her hand behind her to encompass the huge box standing by the cottage wall.

‘What is it?’

‘A pizza oven. I’d ordered it months ago for Nathan’s birthday. It’s a special edition or something.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but I forgot to cancel the order, and it’s just turned up. I need to send it back.’

‘A pizza oven?’ Standing up, Charlie walked across to the box and lifted the lid. ‘Oh wow, that looks like a posh one. You should keep it. They’re supposed to be pretty good, the crème de la crème of the pizza oven world, so to speak.’

‘Oh, really?’ She scrunched her nose up. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep something which would just remind her of Nathan.

‘Supposedly.’ Joining her back at the garden table, Charlie picked up a slice of pizza and took a huge bite from it.

‘Maybe I will then.’ She tilted her head. If Charlie said it was good, then it must be. She’d certainly trust his judgement more than her ex’s. And he was right, she might as well make the most of it now it was here. And maybe she’d make a nice Hawaiian in it too – that’d be a good slice of karma for Nathan. She could almost picture the look of disgust on his face if he ever found out. Yes, it would be a little payback for always ordering what he fancied instead of thinking what she might enjoy too. ‘How was your day? Any other sightings?’

‘Of Claudette?’ Charlie smiled. ‘Yes, I saw her trotting along the road towards the farm on my way here.’

‘You did? What did you do? Try to usher her back in the direction of the village?’

Charlie shook his head. ‘I just let her get on with it.’

Nicola grinned. ‘She’s growing on you.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Maybe. I mean, she’s not doing me any real harm, is she? There’s plenty of grass for her and for the harvest.’

‘Haha, you’ve so changed your tune. Next, you’ll be making up a permanent home for her in the corner of the hay barn.’

Charlie shifted uncomfortably.

Lowering her pizza slice, Nicola watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down. Something had shifted. She could feel it. ‘Is everything okay?’

Charlie nodded, averting her eyes.

‘Hey, you can tell me.’ Pushing the pizza box aside, Nicola leaned across the table and took his hands in hers. ‘What is it?’

Pulling one of his hands away, he raked his fingers through his hair before taking her hand again and leaning forward, too. ‘I didn’t want to have this conversation yet. I wanted to wait until we’d finished our meal, spent some more time together.’

‘What conversation?’ Her voice came out as a whisper. She knew exactly what he was putting off telling her. ‘You’re going back to London?’

He nodded slowly, gripping her hands tighter.

‘When?’ She blinked and tried to remember to breathe.

‘The day after tomorrow.’ His voice was low, and she had to strain to hear it.

‘The day after tomorrow?’ Pulling her hands away, she reached behind her, resting her hands against the nape of her neck.

He nodded again, his eyes fixed on hers.

Lowering her arms, she clasped her hands together on top of the table. ‘I don’t understand. Has the farm sold already? How come the sale is going through so quickly? I thought we’d have at least six weeks from the day you accepted an offer on it.’

Charlie reached out and tried to take Nicola’s hands again, frowning when she pulled them away. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m needed back at work.’

‘But you’re on a sabbatical, a secondment, whatever it is. You’ve got time off.’ She didn’t understand. He hadn’t once mentioned that he might be called back to work. Whenever they’d discussed his departure, not once had it come up into conversation that he might get called back into the office. He’d only ever said he’d be leaving when his uncle’s farm had sold. When he’d completed what he’d come here to do.

‘It’s a sabbatical.’

‘I don’t care what it is. You never said this might happen. You never said you might be called back into work one day.’ Standing up, she pushed her chair back and walked across to the middle of the garden before returning. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want him to leave.

‘I know. I didn’t think this would happen either.’

She looked at him. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked tired. She hadn’t noticed the bags under his eyes when he’d walked through the door. She hadn’t noticed the difference in him. But she could now. ‘How long have you known?’

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he cleared his throat. ‘Since yesterday.’

Sinking back into her chair, she looked at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?’

Running the palm of his hand across his face, he visibly winced. ‘Because I wanted us to have just another day to enjoy our time together without this hanging over us.’

‘And when were you going to tell me?’ She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘If I hadn’t guessed something was up and questioned you, when would you have told me?’

He shifted in his chair again.

‘Would you have told me? Or would I have just woken up one morning to a text telling me you’d gone? Or turned up at the farmhouse to find you’d disappeared?’

‘Of course I would have told you.’ Leaning forward again, he held his hands out in the middle of the table, his palms up, waiting for hers. ‘Like I said, I had planned to tell you this evening, after dinner.’

She looked from her own hands to his. She couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts were all jumbling in her mind. Tentatively, she placed her hands in his, feeling a lump form in her throat as he closed his fingers around hers. ‘Why? Why do they need you back now?’

‘Because the firm’s lost one of our biggest clients. They think I stand a chance of winning them back.’

‘I thought you were the boss? Can’t you just tell them what to do?’

‘I still have people above me, people I answer to – the board, the shareholders, the…’ His voice trailed off.

She nodded. He was leaving early, running away from Meadowfield, from her, because his firm had lost a client. He was choosing winning the client back over her. His job was already coming between them. ‘And when you go back, what happens to us?’

‘Just like we discussed, we visit each other. You can come to London. I can come here.’ Leaning forward, he circled his thumbs against the back of her hands. ‘We make this work.’

‘So, this weekend, you’ll come back to Meadowfield? Or I’ll come to London?’ She focused on the rhythmic circular motion of his skin against hers.

‘Not this weekend.’ His voice cracked. ‘I’ll need to fly out to New York, but the weekend after.’

Jerking her head up, she looked him in the eyes. That was exactly what she’d been afraid of. He would be too busy for her. That’s what had happened to his ex, and it was going to happen all over again with them.

Pulling his hand away, he cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears she hadn’t realised were falling. ‘It’s just one weekend. We’ll have all the other weekends.’

She shook her head. ‘No, we won’t. I work some weekends when the pub has a private function and Jackson is needed there, and then how often do you have to fly out to places?’

‘A couple of times a month. Sometimes less…’

‘Sometimes more.’ She finished his sentence for him. ‘Why did we think this would work?’

‘Because it has to.’ Pushing himself to standing, he kept his hand on her cheek as he leaned across and kissed her, his lips finding hers, the taste of her tears coming between them.

She closed her eyes as she gripped the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want this kiss to end. She didn’t want to stop feeling his touch against her.

Pulling away, he sat back down and took her hands in his. ‘We’ll make it work. I’ll move things around. I’ll come here as often as I can. As much as possible.’

She shook her head, her eyes fixed on his. She could see this was breaking him as much as it was breaking her.

‘Please. Please let me try.’

She took a long, shuddering breath in. She knew what she needed to say. However much it was going to hurt the both of them, she knew it would surely be less painful in the long term. ‘We’ve been kidding ourselves.’

‘No, no, we haven’t.’ He searched her face, his eyes raking over her down-turned mouth, her furrowed forehead, the pain in her eyes.

‘We have and you know it, too. We don’t stand a chance. Your last relationship fell apart because you worked too much, and you both lived in London. How can this possibly work?’

‘Because I love you, Nicola Fields. That’s why it’s going to work. Because it has to work.’

She bit down on her bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. He loved her. It changed everything and yet nothing whatsoever. The end result would still remain. ‘I love you too, but sometimes love isn’t enough.’

‘Love is always enough.’ His voice was rough, gravelly, as he reached out to cup her cheek again.

Leaning back, she watched as confusion swept across his face. He couldn’t have really thought this conversation would have had a different ending, could he? There was no way out, no chance that what they felt for each could survive. If they never saw each other, how could they possibly keep a relationship alive?

‘Nic?’ His voice was quiet, broken.

She shook her head slowly before jutting her chin out and shaking it with more decisiveness than she felt. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Charlie. I really am.’

‘Nic, please? Give me a chance, give us a chance.’

‘No, I can’t put myself through this. I just can’t.’ Standing up, she hurried across the garden, stooping to pick Trixie up, before running into the cottage and closing the door behind her.

Less than a minute later, she heard Charlie knocking against the glass of the back door whilst pleading with her.

Walking through to the living room, Trixie still in her arms, she lowered herself to the floor in front of the sofa and buried her face in Trixie’s fur. How had it come to this? They’d both told each other they loved each other for the first and last time.

All in the same breath.

33

Sitting on the front steps of Pennycress Inn, Nicola held her mug tightly in her hands. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, her gaze firmly focused on the road at the end of the front garden, but she knew her coffee had turned cold a long time ago.

Today was the day Charlie was leaving Meadowfield. And her first day back at work since he’d broken the news. She’d spent yesterday holed up in the cottage, most of the time lying in the foetal position on her rug, Trixie walking over her as if to encourage her to sit up and face reality. But she hadn’t been able to, not yesterday. It had taken every ounce of determination not to answer her phone or the door to Charlie. If she had, she’d known she would have run straight back into his arms.

And she couldn’t do that. No, by not talking or seeing him, she knew she was protecting them both. Her heart and his. They’d let themselves fall this far and had fooled themselves that their relationship could work, but the cold, hard truth of the matter was that it just wouldn’t. They didn’t have the time to meet up, even a couple of times a month, if they were lucky, and that wouldn’t be healthy. No relationship could sustain not seeing each other, not being able to spend time together.

Yes, she knew she’d done the right thing. She’d ripped the Band-Aid off, so neither of them had to suffer the long, slow, painful death of the relationship a few months into the future. It may hurt more than her breakup with Nathan but it would have been even harder the longer they’d been seeing each other.

‘Hey, Nic.’

Nicola felt Laura’s hand on her shoulder as she lowered herself to the step next to her.

‘I brought you a fresh coffee.’

Nicola nodded, her gaze on the road out front, unwavering.

‘Here, give me that one.’ Reaching over, Laura gently took the cold mug from Nicola’s grasp and replaced it with another mug, the warmth of the coffee inside quickly heating Nicola’s hands.

‘Thanks.’ She spoke quietly, her voice breaking.

‘Why don’t you come inside for a bit?’

Nicola heard the thud as Laura placed the cold coffee mug on the step above. She shook her head.

‘Or go and speak to him before it’s too late?’ Laura’s voice was uncertain, as though she wasn’t quite sure how Nicola would react.

‘I can’t.’

‘I think that you should. He’s been ringing the inn, you know.’ She held up her mobile. ‘And me, and Jackson too. He’s worried about you.’

‘I know, but he understands things wouldn’t work out.’

‘I don’t think he does.’ Laura spoke softly.

Twisting on the step, Nicola looked across at her. ‘But he must do. The other day, when he told me he was leaving, going back to the city for work, we worked out that at best we’d be seeing each other once or twice a month. How can he think that will work out?’

Laura cleared her throat. ‘I think because he loves you and I’m guessing you love him too?’

‘I do. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. Not even Nathan, and I agreed to get engaged to him.’ Nicola shook her head. ‘But I’m doing this for both of us. Not just me, for him too.’

‘Nic, if it’s because you work some weekends, then we can work around that. I can find someone else to come in instead. You can visit him then.’

Nicola smiled sadly. She’d had a feeling Laura might say that. ‘Thank you, but it doesn’t change anything, not really. He will still have to travel for work, and we wouldn’t know when, so he might well be travelling on those weekends, anyway.’

‘Okay, I just don’t want you to think we can’t be flexible, because we can. We can play things by ear, go with the flow. Do whatever is best so you can see him more.’

Nicola looked down at her coffee. It was strong, she could smell the bittersweet aroma from just where she was holding it. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I really do, but it doesn’t change anything. Charlie’s job will get in the way.’

Laura rubbed Nicola’s forearm.

‘I should have realised earlier when he said him and his ex had broken up because they never saw each other. I should have walked away then, but I couldn’t.’ She shook her head. If she had, she might have been able to get over him, to heal her heart, but she was in too deep now. She was too invested. This wasn’t a break-up she’d be getting over. Not any time soon. Maybe never. She felt too much for him for that.

‘Maybe they just weren’t in love as much as you two are.’

Nicola bit down on her bottom lip, the skin still tender from where she’d made it bleed the other day. ‘I thought about that, but it wouldn’t change anything. If he’s away working, then he’s away working. And then we’ve got the added complication that we live hours apart. They didn’t.’

‘But—’

‘No, ever since he told me I’ve been trying to wrack my brains to find a solution, to try to figure out a way that we might be able to make this work, but I can’t. And whenever I think I’ve found a way…’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not going to happen. It can’t.’

‘Oh, Nic, I’m so sorry. I really thought you and Charlie were made for each other.’ Laura inched closer and wrapped her arm around Nicola’s shoulders.

‘So did Jill, and she’s never been wrong at predicting the future of my relationships.’ She let out a hollow laugh. ‘I guess she was this time.’

‘If you’re not going to go and see him, or answer his calls, why don’t you go home? Take a bubble bath.’ Laura shook her head. ‘Sorry, not that I think a bubble bath will fix this, but you know what I mean.’

‘I do, but no, I’m okay, or I will be. I just need a few more minutes.’ She glanced at Laura. ‘If that’s okay?’

‘Of course it is. You don’t need to ask. Take as long as you need.’ Squeezing her around the shoulders, Laura stood up and disappeared back inside.

Lowering the hot mug to the wooden step beside her, Nicola hugged her knees and lowered her chin to her arms. She’d done this, she’d broken up with him, but they’d both known there would be no happily ever after. She knew there was no truth in the fairy tales of her childhood, the ones her mum used to read to her right here on the decking of a late summer’s evening.

34

Crouched on the rug, Nicola held her breath, watching and waiting. The baby bird Trixie had brought in half-fluttered and half-hopped across the floorboards from its hiding place behind the sofa, heading towards the TV cabinet on the opposite wall. As soon as the bird had reached the halfway point, Nicola made her move and leapt forward, cupping her hands around the fluffy feathers.

‘That’s it, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.’ She could feel the small beak pecking furiously against her skin. The poor thing must be petrified.

Opening her cupped hands ever so slightly, Nicola peered into the handmade cocoon. It was a house sparrow, a fledgling judging by the look of its feathers.

‘Oh, sweetheart, I bet you were just learning to fly when Trixiebell caught you off-guard.’ Nicola glared towards the hall door where she’d sent Trixie for some time out.

Trixie scratched against the door as she wailed, desperate to reach the prey she’d hunted down and brought in and baffled why she wasn’t getting to enjoy her prize.

‘Stop it, Trixie.’ Nicola sighed. ‘You’re in my bad, bad books. Not just my bad books, not today, Trixiebell. After getting through work without crying, all I wanted to do was curl up on the sofa, and yet, what do I come home to find? The big bad cat chasing this poor petrified baby around.’

She wasn’t sure how she’d got through the day. Despite Laura’s desperate attempts to send her home, she’d stayed there until five. She’d needed to. If she’d come home, all she’d have done was curl up and cry and, yes, that’s what she was planning on doing now, but she knew she couldn’t have spent the whole day doing so.

Just as she began to stand up, Trixie’s paw arched around the edge of the door and the cat sprang into action, racing across the floorboards towards her.

Startled, Nicola staggered to the side, reaching her hand automatically across to the sofa to save herself and in turn letting go of the fledgling.

With a loud hiss, Trixie jumped towards the baby bird, which darted beneath the sofa with only seconds to spare.

‘Trixie!’ After steadying herself, Nicola leaned down and grabbed Trixie, shoving her back out into the hallway and checking that the door was closed properly, twice this time.

Kneeling beside the sofa, she looked underneath. She couldn’t see the poor bird. It had probably scooted to the back and was hiding in the shadows, petrified it’d end up as Trixie’s dinner.

‘Fine. We’ll just wait it out. You can come out when you’re ready.’ Nicola sat down heavily on the sofa. She didn’t have the energy to pull the sofa out and retrieve the poor bird. Besides, it would only scare it even more. No, she’d wait. It’d come out soon enough. And Trixie could wait too. She could do with the time to realise her actions had consequences.

Slumping against the back of the sofa, Nicola pulled a cushion onto her lap and hugged it. She was so tired. She’d barely slept a few hours since Charlie had broken the news two evenings before. And she still couldn’t quite believe it. He was really gone. He’d left and returned to his old life.

She glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. It was half-past six. Charlie would have been in London for hours now, settling back into his apartment. Fetching groceries or cleaning the dust which would have inevitably covered his furniture in the months he’d been away.

Or maybe he had gone straight into work. He might be in a meeting right now, discussing the best strategies to be used to regain the lost client.

He might be booking his trip to New York, buying plane tickets, changing money from pounds to dollars. Packing.

She swiped at her eyes as fresh tears began to fall. Why had she let herself believe him when he’d reassured her? How hadn’t she realised quite how impossible their relationship had been?

How hadn’t he?

Nicola watched as the small bird ventured out from beneath the sofa and hopped across to the rug. It stood there, its tiny eyes darting around the room before taking a leap and flying up to the coffee table.

With a few little hops, the bird pecked at last night’s chip wrapper, the cold chips still sat in the pool of vinegar and salt, mostly untouched. Having bought them as she hadn’t had the will to cook, she not been able to stomach them after all. The bird was welcome to them.

As it grew in confidence, it pecked at the stale food, seemingly enjoying them more than Nicola had.

Holding her breath, Nicola leaned forward and, in one swift motion, cupped the bird between her hands again. This time, she stood up quickly and hurried to the back door, thankful that she’d left it open in the hopes the fledgling would find its own way out.

Once outside, she walked towards the back of the garden and placed the baby bird on the garden table. Looking bewildered to be back out in the open, the fledgling perched next to the citrus candle she kept outside.

Nicola looked at the two empty glasses still sitting on the table, the wine barely touched in either of them, the pizza box lying on the patio beneath, the abandoned pizza slices probably stolen by foxes or some other wildlife which ventured through the village gardens. She picked up Charlie’s glass and ran the pad of her index finger around the rim.

Shaking her head, she took a sharp breath in, lowered the glass and shoved the pizza box beneath her arm before picking up the glasses again and carrying them across the lawn to the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, she watched the bird, still a little dazed from its traumatic encounter with Trixie.

‘Fly, little one. Fly home.’

Closing the back door firmly behind her, she placed the glasses down and squashed the pizza box into the bin just as the doorbell sang its tune.

Freezing, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Was it Charlie? Did she want it to be Charlie?

Hurrying through to the living room, Nicola peered through the window and her breathing steadied.

It wasn’t Charlie. Of course it wasn’t. How could it have been? He wouldn’t have driven all the way to London just to visit her for an hour before travelling back.

It was Laura.

Opening the door into the hallway, Nicola jumped as Trixie zoomed past her, straight to the sofa, where she sat crouched down, her tail flicking side to side.

‘The baby bird isn’t there, Trixie. It’s outside and I’ve locked your cat flap. Let it muster enough energy to fly away before you go prowling again.’ Leaving her to it, Nicola pulled open the front door. ‘Hi, Laura.’

‘Hey, you okay?’ Laura shifted from foot to foot.

Nicola nodded and forced a smile. She didn’t want Laura to worry about her. She should be at home with Jackson, not checking in on her employees. ‘Apart from having to rescue Trixie’s latest catch, I am. I’m sorry about today. I know I hardly got anything done at all. But I’ll be back to my usual self tomorrow.’

‘Oh, that’s not why I’m here. I mean, yes, I’m here to see if you’re okay, but not because I’m worried about how much work you’re doing at the inn. I’m worried because you’re my friend and I care about you.’

Nicola pulled the door open further. ‘Well, thanks. Do you want to come in for a cuppa? It’s a bit of a mess and there are a few fledgling sparrow feathers here and there, but⁠—’

Holding her hand up, Laura grinned. ‘Another time. I’m here to go to the village meeting with you.’

‘The village meeting?’ Of course, how could she have forgotten? She usually loved the meetings. The whole of the community huddled together in the village hall to have a natter about the goings-on in Meadowfield, but it was the last thing she wanted to do this evening. She couldn’t think of anything worse than to spend the next couple of hours in the presence of so many happy couples, families… ‘I’m sorry, I’m not going today.’

Laura’s face fell. ‘Oh, you must. I mean, it’ll be good for you to get out.’

Nicola shook her head. ‘No, really. I can’t. Not this evening.’

‘Please, Nic. Please come.’

‘No.’ She raked her fingers through her hair. ‘I’m a mess, on the inside and on the outside. I can’t face sitting in a hall and listening to Miss Cooke ranting on for two or three hours. You go with Jackson.’

‘Uh, that’s the thing, Jackson, umm… He’s not coming, and I really, really don’t want to go on my own.’ Laura wrung her hands in front of her. ‘Please, Nic.’

Frowning, Nicola watched as Laura glanced over her shoulder as Nicola’s neighbours began leaving the street to head towards the village hall. ‘I thought Jackson usually went?’

‘He does, yes.’ Laura focused her attention back to Nicola. ‘But… umm… tonight he’s busy.’

‘You’ll be fine on your own. Jill will be there, and Rachel.’ Nicola gripped hold of the door frame. She couldn’t face the village residents, not tonight. Not with her and Charlie’s break-up so raw. As much as she adored village life, the downside was that everybody knew each other’s business. Everyone would be gossiping about it, talking behind their hands, stealing glances towards her when they didn’t think she was looking.

‘Come with me, Nic? Please?’ Laura held her hands together and pleaded again.

Nicola looked at her and swallowed. It didn’t feel as though she had much of a choice. Laura had always been so supportive of her and if, for whatever reason, she was worried about going to the village meeting by herself, then Nicola would just have to go.

35

Sitting on one of the hard chairs, Nicola glanced around the hall and, sure enough, people were whispering behind their hands, their eyes on her. Turning back to face the front, she slouched low in her seat, trying to shake the feeling of the eyes boring into her back. Looking across at Laura, she hissed, ‘Everyone knows that me and Charlie have broken up, then.’

Looking around quickly, Laura shrugged. ‘I doubt it. News travels fast, but not that fast. It’s only been a couple of days.’

‘Oh, news does travel that fast. It only takes two hours on a slow day to reach the outskirts of Meadowfield.’

Laura shook her head. ‘So what if they do know?’

Nicola sighed. Laura had a point. People were bound to find out sooner or later. Maybe it was best just to get the stares and the murmurs over and done with in one hit. At least if everyone got the gossip out of their system tonight, then she’d be able to walk through the village without everyone looking at her and asking if she was okay. Nicola straightened her back. ‘I guess you’re right. They’ll have talked about me whether I had come tonight or not.’

‘That’s the spirit.’ Laura grinned at her.

‘Hmm.’ Nicola watched as a new influx of people walked into the hall, the group splintering off to rush towards family members or to squeeze into chairs next to their friends. And was that Jackson? She frowned as he headed their way. Yes, it was. He wasn’t supposed to be coming.

She watched as he squeezed through the aisle towards them and it was only then that she noticed a spare chair next to Laura, her handbag sitting on top of it. Had she known Jackson was coming after all? Had it all been a ploy to get Nicola out of the house? Did Laura think she’d just rot in her own pity? Umm, to be fair, she probably would have, but she’d have felt more comfortable slumped on her sofa with a box of tissues and an open share bag of crisps on her lap than here in the village hall.

‘Hey.’ Laura lifted her handbag and placed it on the floor as Jackson sat down and kissed her before smiling across at Nicola.

‘Hi, Nic.’

Leaning across, Nicola frowned. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?’

Confusion swept across Jackson’s face as Laura nudged him. ‘Oh, er, change of plan.’

‘Right.’ Nicola flared her nostrils and slumped back in her chair. Yep, Laura had just wanted to make sure she didn’t hole herself up in her cottage. She relaxed her shoulders. She supposed she shouldn’t be angry with her. She’d probably have done the same if the roles had been reversed. Still, she couldn’t wait for this damn meeting to be over and done with so she could retreat to her sanctuary.

‘Sorry, I just…’ Laura whispered as Miss Cooke took to the stage.

Nicola shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. Thanks for caring.’

Smiling, Laura rubbed Nicola’s forearm before turning her attention to Miss Cooke.

‘Good evening, all, and welcome to this month’s village meeting. Thank you for taking the time to prise yourselves away from your barbecues and whatnots. I know it’s tempting to miss these meetings when we’re blessed with such nice weather.’ She looked pointedly at the few empty chairs.

‘Shocking that people don’t organise their holidays around the village meetings or travel home for a few hours, so they don’t miss them,’ Laura whispered.

Nicola smiled briefly. Miss Cooke had always been the same, having the expectation that all of Meadowfield’s residents should take these meetings as seriously as she did.

‘And what a glorious week we’ve had! Officer Duffey here has an exciting update on Meadowfield’s runaway sheep, Gertrude.’

The inevitable calling out of random names people had attributed to Claudette began and Nicola rolled her eyes. Any other time, this little ritual made her laugh, but tonight she just couldn’t find it in her to find anything amusing.

‘Florence!’

‘Cloudy!’

‘Claudette!’

‘Yes, yes.’ Miss Cooke held her hands up, palms forward, and shushed her audience before stepping away from the lectern and waving Officer Duffey forward.

Clearing his throat, the officer flicked through a small notebook before looking ahead. ‘Good evening. Yes, as Miss Cooke has mentioned, we have an interesting update on the missing sheep case.’

‘What’s that then?’ Neil Parsons called out from the front row. ‘Have you caught her?’

‘Er, no. The sheep has not yet been taken into custody…’

Nicola heard Laura stifle a laugh, whereas Jackson, not as quick to think to cover his mouth, tried to turn his chuckle into a cough.

‘…But we do have it on good authority that the sightings have decreased considerably.’ He flicked through his notebook again. ‘In fact, over the past two weeks, we have not had one sighting at all.’

‘Has she gone?’

‘Does that mean I can plant out my begonias now, then?’ Mrs Pierce asked.

‘I do believe she may well have moved on. Of her own accord.’ Officer Duffey closed his notebook and nodded towards Miss Cooke, who stepped forward again.

‘Fantastic news. Thank you, Officer Duffey. I’m sure the whole village will join me in congratulating you on a well-deserved victory on your part.’

Nicola sniggered. It was just as Charlie had predicted. He’d said that the villagers would believe Claudette had left the vicinity and yet she was only up the road at his farm. She slumped her shoulders as a wave of sadness washed over her. If only he’d been here to witness his predictions coming true, to watch as Miss Cooke and the local police force took the credit for the lull in Claudette’s destructive activity.

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. If he was here, he’d be laughing right about now. And she would be too. Heck, he’d probably stand up and correct them. Tell them how it was. She wasn’t going to get over this, was she? How was she supposed to just get on with her life as though nothing had happened when, all around her, the memories she’d made with him were lurking?

Standing up, she turned to make her way along the row of chairs towards the aisle running down by the wall. She shouldn’t have come. She didn’t want to be here.

‘Nic, what are you doing?’ Laura hissed as she tugged at her cardigan.

‘I’m going home, I can’t⁠—’

‘Please sit down, Miss Fields.’ Miss Cooke’s voice filled the hall as people began to turn and whisper.

Halting in her tracks, Nicola sank to her chair, her face quickly turning a bright scarlet. She’d only wanted to leave. Miss Cooke couldn’t keep her captive. She was a mayoress, not a headmistress. Nicola looked down at her clasped hands in her lap, trying to avoid seeing the hundreds of pairs of eyes all focused on her.

‘It’ll be okay.’ Laura reached over and rubbed her arm.

Nicola glanced quickly across at her. It wouldn’t be. Not only had everyone been gossiping about her already, but now Miss Cooke had called her out and embarrassed her further. She just wanted the ground to swallow her up, or, better still, a tunnel to her cottage appear by her feet. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

‘I think now is a good time for another exciting announcement.’ Miss Cooke’s voice echoed in the large space again.

Nicola closed her eyes tightly shut. Yep, definitely time for an exciting announcement just after she’d reprimanded Nicola, a grown woman.

‘Today we welcome a new resident into the heart of our wonderful community. As you will only be too aware, the lovely Farmer Williams left us just at the beginning of the year.’

Murmuring rose through the hall.

Opening her eyes, Nicola twisted the hem of her cardigan between her fingers. Surely she couldn’t be announcing the new farmer already? Charlie had only left two days ago, and he hadn’t heard back from Miss Taunton about the interested party by then, so she very much doubted there could have been a viewing and the exchange of money and contracts all in two days. There couldn’t have been time.

Unless Charlie hadn’t been quite honest with her? Unless he’d been hiding the fact the farm had sold?

She swallowed. No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t have lied to her. She knew him better than to think he would have lied. So how?

Maybe the new farmer was renting it from Charlie for the time being until the contracts were exchanged. That made sense.

She sniffed, determined not to let the tears fall again.

It was well and truly over. If the new farmer had indeed moved in, then that was that. Charlie wouldn’t be back.

She shifted in her chair. She knew he wouldn’t be, he’d told her, but there had always been that tiny sliver of hope. Now, with the new farmer in residence, that had gone. All gone.

It was over.

‘And so we welcome the new farmer who has taken up residence at Little Mead…’

Nicola looked up, her eyes focusing on Miss Cooke as she waved manically towards the door of the hall. Whoever the new farmer was must have been lurking outside.

Her breath caught in her throat as someone stepped inside the hall and made their way up to the stage. The familiar well-worn checked flannel shirt, the piercing blue eyes, the…

‘Charlie Williams.’

Nicola clamped her hand over her mouth as a small shriek escaped her throat. It was Charlie. Charlie had taken over Little Mead? Permanently? Was that what Miss Cooke was saying?

She watched as he made his way towards the middle of the stage and Miss Cooke signalled to the lectern and the microphone.

Stepping in front of it, Charlie adjusted the height of the microphone before speaking. ‘Thank you for such a warm welcome. If I may just have a moment of your time.’ He searched the sea of faces in front of him before continuing. ‘I’m really only here because of one person. One person who showed me how special Little Mead, my uncle’s pride and joy, is. One person who introduced me to Meadowfield and kept insisting that the charm of village living would rub off on me.’

Nicola glanced across to Laura, who was grinning at her.

‘And it did. I fell in love with Little Mead, with Meadowfield, but more than anything else I fell in love with’ – Charlie scanned the audience again before locking eyes with Nicola and pointing to her – ‘with you, Nicola Fields.’

Gasps erupted all around her and she could definitely feel everyone’s eyes on her now, but she didn’t care. She kept her eyes locked with Charlie’s.

‘I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.’ He shifted on his feet. ‘And I’m standing up here begging you to take me back.’

‘Oh.’ The sound caught in her throat, resulting in a noise close to a gurgle and a cough. She watched as he jumped down from the stage and began walking down the aisle between the rows of chairs towards her.

‘Go on.’ Laura jabbed her in the side, signalling her to go towards him.

Without thinking twice, Nicola jumped out of her chair, squeezed along the row and ran down the aisle straight into his open arms.

Wrapping his arms around her, he spoke into her hair. ‘I love you, Nic.’

‘I love you too.’ Looking up at him, she searched his eyes. She needed to know if this was actually happening or whether it was some elaborate, cruel joke. ‘Are you really staying?’

‘I am.’

‘But why? How?’ She had so many questions whirring in her mind, she could hardly hear the applause surrounding them.

‘Come on, let’s go outside.’ Kissing the top of her head, Charlie took her hand in his and led the way out, thanking Miss Cooke as they hurried past the stage.

As she walked with him, she glanced quickly at Miss Cooke, half expecting her to demand they sit down and listen to the rest of the village meeting, not that she cared. Nothing would stop her spending this time with Charlie. Not even the quite fearsome Miss Cooke.

Once outside, Charlie closed the door on the meeting before turning to face her. ‘Nic, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left…’

She rubbed her hand over her face, trying to make some sort of sense of it all. ‘I don’t understand. You’d gone back to work, you’d moved back to London.’

Stepping towards her, he tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘I couldn’t do it. As soon as I stepped foot inside my office, I knew I’d made a mistake. I realised what you’d been telling me all along, that my uncle’s farm was special, that it was his legacy, the legacy of all my family before him, too. But, above all, I realised that I just didn’t want to be without you.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t want you moving back here just because of me. We can still visit each other, like you said. I⁠—’

‘Nic, I don’t want to be anywhere else. I want to be here, with you in my life. Every single day, not just on a snatched weekend here and there. I want to be with you. And I want to run my uncle’s farm. I want to be part of the craziness that is the Meadowfield community. I want Claudette in my life. All of it.’

‘You missed Claudette?’ She spluttered out a laugh. If this wasn’t some elaborate joke, then was it a dream? Had she finally dropped off to sleep?

‘Yes! I missed Claudette. Not as much as you though…’ He grinned.

‘I should hope not.’ She fiddled with her bracelet, twisting it around her wrist. ‘Are you sure, though? Are you sure you want to throw away your career, your life in the big city?’

He stepped closer and cupped his hands around her cheeks. ‘I haven’t been surer about anything in my whole entire life. I want you, Nic. Just you.’

Bringing her hands to the nape of his neck, she drew him towards her, her lips touching his.

This was real.

This was happening.

EPILOGUE

‘Mind the puddle, Mum.’ Nicola guided her mum around the two large puddles left from that morning’s rain and towards the metal gate leading into the farmyard. What with the excitement of Charlie staying and with how busy life had been at Pennycress Inn, the rest of the summer had sped by and Nicola could hardly believe it was already autumn. She looked across at the golden leaves, still glistening with the sheen of the earlier rain, and smiled before turning back to her mum.

‘Can I take this off yet, love?’ Vivienne lifted her hand to her face, ready to pull off the pink spotted blindfold.

‘No! Keep it on, just for a couple more minutes.’ Nicola laughed as she tapped her mum’s hand away. She’d been planning this surprise birthday for her mum for weeks now and she wouldn’t let it be ruined when they were so close.

Her mum paused and sniffed the air. ‘Umm, I think I might just know where we are.’

Nicola raised her eyebrows. ‘Why? Where do you think we are?’

‘At Charlie’s farm? I can smell hay, mud, hens.’

Nicola slumped her shoulders. Trust her mum to guess so easily, but what she couldn’t have guessed was what sight would be waiting for her when she pulled the blindfold off. No, Nicola had sworn the whole village to secrecy. ‘Just a couple more steps.’

Charlie, looking every each the farmer he now officially was in one of his uncle’s faded flannel shirts, stepped forward and quietly opened the gate to the farmyard.

‘Thanks.’ Nicola mouthed as she reached out and squeezed his hand.

Once inside the farmyard, Nicola led her mum behind the big barn so she could see the field beyond. ‘Okay. Here we are.’

‘I can take it off now?’

‘You can take it off, Mum.’ Nicola crossed her fingers behind her back. Please like it.

After peeling the soft material from her eyes, Vivienne gasped as she was met with raucous applause and shouts of ‘Happy birthday!’ from all of her friends and local residents from Meadowfield and beyond.

As the group stepped aside, Vivienne looked out across the field. Turning to Nicola, Vivienne clasped her daughter’s hands in hers. ‘You did this? You organised all this? Just for me?’

‘Happy seventieth birthday, Mum.’ Leaning across to her, she kissed her on the cheek before taking in the scene in front of her. Children, having been on their best behaviour waiting for the birthday girl, ran off towards a huge bouncy castle to the right, screeching with delight, whilst the adults stepped forward to wish her mum a happy birthday before wandering off towards the makeshift bowling green to the left, or the dance floor, courtesy of Meadowfield’s brass band who were also playing, in the centre.

Stepping away, Nicola let her mum be showered with gifts and flowers. Her job done, delighted her mum would get the birthday she so deserved.

‘You are just the best, do you know that?’ Walking up behind her, Charlie wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek.

Laughing, she turned in his arms to face him. Charlie had been more than supportive of her organising the party for her mum here on the farm, Not only had he let her have the run of Little Mead, but his help had been integral to the preparations too. And in truth, she’d spent so much time here in the last few months, she’d begun to see Little Mead less as Charlie’s farm and more like a second home. ‘You had as much to do with this as I did.’

‘No, I really didn’t. You organised it all.’ Charlie enveloped her in a hug. ‘Your mum is loving it.’

Nicola glanced towards her mum, who was busy chatting away to her bridge club. ‘She is, isn’t she?’

‘Why don’t you move in?’ Charlie spoke quickly, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘I’ve sold my London apartment. This is home now and I want us to settle down together.’

‘What… what did you say?’ Leaning back in his arms, Nicola searched his face. ‘Did you just say what I think you said? And you’ve sold your apartment?’

‘That depends on what you think I said. And, yes, I have.’ Charlie chuckled nervously.

‘Did you just ask me to move in with you?’ Holding her hands against his checks, she locked eyes with him. If he’d sold his apartment, then that was it. He definitely wasn’t going anywhere. Yes, there had been moments when she’d had her doubts and thought he might up and leave the farming life behind, for example when the harvester broke down in the middle of the wheat harvest or when the summer storm ripped the roof of the main barn, but Charlie had just got on with it, sorted the problem practically and moved on. There was nothing to stop them.

‘If I had, what would your answer be?’ He shifted on the spot.

‘Yes, of course!’ She laughed. ‘What else would it be?’

‘In that case, yes, that’s precisely what I asked.’ Leaning forward, he kissed her on the tip of the nose. ‘Nicola Fields, will you move in with me?’

‘You bet I will.’ Drawing him towards her again, she kissed him. They were going to live with each other!

* * *

‘…to you, Happy birthday to you…’

‘Make a wish, Mum!’ Nicola gripped Charlie’s hand as they watched her mum blow the candles out on her beautiful cake set on a table with the rest of the party food in the barn before everyone cheered and clapped around her.

Holding her hand up to silence those standing in front of her, Vivienne raised her voice. ‘Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to spend my special day with me. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful friends. And I’d like to raise a toast to my wonderful daughter, who, with a little help, I’m sure, has organised such an unforgettable day. Well done, Nicola.’

‘Well done, Nic.’ Vivienne’s toast rang through the barn.

‘Aw, thanks. I couldn’t have done it without Charlie, Laura, and Jackson’s help.’ Nicola swallowed and held up her glass. Looking around at all her friends from the village, she blinked back a happy tear. Charlie had asked her to move in with him! She’d have to leave the cottage which she’d called home for so many years now but, if she was honest, however much she loved her little cottage, it still held memories of Nathan so a fresh start with Charlie at Little Mead would be the perfect solution. The two of them could build a proper life together. Maybe Jill’s prediction had been right after all! She’d said she could see a future between Nicola and Charlie. She caught Charlie’s eye and grinned.

‘You heard her. To Charlie, Laura and Jackson.’ Vivienne raised her glass again.

Just as the villagers repeated the toast, a loud crash sounded from the field outside and everyone began filing through the doors to see what had caused the commotion.

As Charlie took Nicola’s hand in his, they made their way to the front of the group and watched as Claudette raced around the field, dragging a metal bucket around with her, which must have got stuck in her overgrown woollen coat.

‘The sheep! Get the sheep!’ Neil Parsons shouted as the crowd surged forward towards the unsuspecting and now quite fearful Claudette.

Taking a deep breath in, Charlie stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew, a loud piercing whistle cutting through the shouting and the hubbub.

Standing still, everyone turned their attention to Charlie and, clearing his throat, he shouted his orders, ‘Claudette is welcome here, please don’t frighten her.’

‘You what? You’ve been harbouring the fugitive?’ Neil Parsons turned to him, an incredulous expression on his face.

‘Well, no, she has been visiting the farm over the past months, but I haven’t been harbouring her.’ Charlie chuckled. ‘I take no responsibility for the misdemeanours she has undertaken.’

‘But she’s living here?’ Neil raised his eyebrows so high they almost disappeared under his hairline.

‘Yes, as from today, she is welcome to live here. This will be her new home.’ He held his hand up, signalling people to continue to pay attention to him. ‘But if I could have a small group of volunteers to help me catch her and detangle the bucket from her coat, I’d be very grateful.’

‘Anything, mate. If you’re going to take her off our streets, then I’m more than willing to help.’ Neil nodded.

‘Me too. I’ll be able to go home and plant my begonias this evening, knowing they won’t get eaten.’ Mrs Pierce spoke up.

‘Great, thank you.’ Charlie began walking towards the group of volunteers.

‘Hold on.’ Nicola grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards her.

‘Yes?’ Charlie grinned as she took his hand in hers.

‘So there’ll be three of us living here at the farm then?’

‘Yes, I suppose there will be. Although if you count Mildred, Petunia, Helena, Daisy, Ethel, Storm…’ Charlie ran his fingers through his hair.

‘The hens? Storm?’ She laughed.

‘Got her!’ Neil Parsons’ voice rose above the chatter.

‘Haha, yes, she’s the one who keeps hiding.’ He glanced at Neil and Claudette before taking a step towards her.

‘You’re forgetting someone else.’ Nicola wrapped her arms around him as she tipped her head back and looked into his eyes.

‘Nope, I’m not.’ Charlie gently tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘I’ve already installed a cat flap in the back door of the farmhouse for Trixie and she has a new bed waiting for her too.’

‘You remembered her. Thank you.’ Leaning her forehead against his chest, she closed her eyes. This was it. This was her happy ever after.

Tucking his finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face until she was looking at him again. ‘Of course I did.’

‘I love you, Charlie.’ Nicola grinned. She didn’t think she’d be able to love him anymore than she already did and yet then he did something like this, like naming the hens and giving Claudette and Trixie a forever home, and she could feel her love for him expand again and again.

‘I love you too, Nic.’

* * *

MORE FROM SARAH HOPE

In case you missed it, the previous book in the uplifting, romantic Pennycress Inn series from Sarah Hope, Welcome to Pennycress Inn, is available to order now here:

www.mybook.to/WelcometoPennycress

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MORE FROM SARAH HOPE

We hope you enjoyed reading Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn. If you did, please leave a review. If you’d like to gift a copy, this book is available to purchase in paperback, hardback, large print and audio.

In case you missed it, the previous book in Sarah Hope’s uplifting, romantic Pennycress Inn series, Welcome to Pennycress Inn, is available to buy now by clicking on the image below. Or read on for an exclusive extract…

Chapter One

This was it! The first day of the rest of her life. The first page of a new chapter. A new year, a new her. She’d take all of those cringy clichés – all of them.

Laura Price closed the door of her rusty old Focus and half walked, half ran across the broken slabs towards the front door, pausing every few steps to untangle her ankles from the spindly overgrown lavender which grew alongside the cracked pavement through the front garden, the stringy stalks of the dormant plant a silvery, sage green against the blue of her jeans.

‘Afternoon, Miss Price.’ Ms Taunton, the stuffy but stunningly beautiful estate agent, checked her watch.

‘Hi. Sorry I’m late.’ Why had she said that? She knew she wasn’t. She’d been forty-five minutes early and as soon as she’d seen Ms Taunton appear on the decking encircling the right-hand side of the inn, she’d run up here. Habit. That was why.

‘Here are your keys. Spares are in the kitchen drawer.’ Ms Taunton held out the keys dangling from a purple plastic teddy keyring.

‘Wow! Thank you so much.’ Trying hard to suppress the excitement bubbling in her stomach and appear professional, Laura took the keys and fought the urge to give the estate agent a hug.

‘You’re welcome.’ Ms Taunton shook Laura’s hand briefly before turning on her overly high heels and sauntering down the steps and through the front garden to her two-seater BMW, avoiding the long stalks of lavender with much more finesse than Laura had, despite the height of her heels.

The keys! She had the keys to her very own inn! Pennycress Inn! She looked down at the small plastic teddy in her palm. Her new home and her very own business all rolled into one!

Stepping back down to stand on the cracked and uneven, but equally charming, garden path, Laura leaned her head back and peered upwards. This was really hers.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she looked up at the yellow Cotswold stone building, the wooden window frames perfectly matching the lavender-coloured front door, framing the criss-cross of lead-paned glass. The large willow tree growing to the right was almost the same height as the thatched roof, which was adorned with a single straw cat seemingly inching its way across the ridge of the roof – the perfect addition to such an idyllic building.

Laura wrapped her arms around her middle as her stomach gurgled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, the hard plastic of the teddy keyring digging into her side. Could she really do this? Could she really be responsible for a place as beautiful as this?

Of course she could. This was her fresh start, her chance to reinvent herself as the confident, independent businesswoman she wanted to be. Shaking the doubts away, she stepped up to the front door.

After unlocking it, she slowly turned the handle and inched the purple door open, a lasting reminder of the colour the lavender would bloom in the spring. She wanted to savour this moment, to remember it forever.

Stepping into the vast hallway, she spun around slowly, taking in the elaborate oak staircase, the varnished oak floorboards and the rich green, pheasant-print wallpaper. It was hers. All hers!

She’d been dreaming of this moment since she had been a little girl. Every time her family had visited Cockleshell Inn in Whitby for their holidays, she’d told her parents that one day she’d open her own inn. Of course, as she’d grown up, her plans had become a pipe dream and she’d never thought it possible, until she and Harry had divorced and she’d found herself floundering, unsure which direction to take. Well, they said every difficult situation had a silver lining, and this was hers, the opportunity to take a leap of faith.

Two doors opened up from the hallway and she peered into the one on the left, which led into a large sitting room where guests would enjoy the morning papers and a freshly brewed cuppa, filling the time between breakfast and departure, or relax in the evening playing board games with family and friends or reading a novel borrowed from the bookshelf which stretched from one side of the open fireplace to the back wall. The room was even bigger than she remembered, and the large chesterfield sofas arranged in two groups gave guests the choice to mingle or to enjoy a game of Monopoly around one of the oak coffee tables.

Walking across the hallway, she reached the kitchen diner. The dark oak cupboards of the kitchen area complemented the pale yellow walls of the dining area, where four pine tables were positioned. French doors opened onto the decking which surrounded the back of the inn, steps leading down into the vast garden. At the kitchen end, a doorway led into a small utility area equipped with a washing machine, tumble dryer and a short washing line hanging from the ceiling.

As she walked towards the French doors, Laura ran her fingers across one of the pine tables before standing and gazing outside. Yes, she had a lot of work to do, but if she squinted her eyes against the low January sun, she could just about picture how it could look in the summer. She might need to replace the wooden benches and picnic tables which were scattered around the garden, but that would be a worthy investment to allow her guests to enjoy the flowers she would plant, as well as the view of the fields beyond the hedge at the bottom.

As her mobile phone began ringing, its cheerful tone echoing in the large hallway, Laura walked across to the reception… bar? Desk? Counter? – whatever it was called, which filled the space beneath the stairs, and placed the keys down on the dark varnished wooden top before answering. ‘Hi.’

‘Laura, sweetheart. We’ve got you on speaker. How’s it going? Have you got your keys yet? Are you in?’ Her mum, Ruth, fired off a million questions.

Laura smiled. ‘Yes, I’m in. I have the keys and I’m in. I have my own inn!’

‘Congratulations!’

‘Congratulations, Laura!’ Her dad’s voice echoed down the line.

‘Thanks.’ Laura nodded. They’d changed their tune.

Her dad, Phil, cleared his throat. ‘Look, about this morning, we only have your best interests at heart. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, your dad’s right. We just worry, and as your parents, that’s our job.’ Ruth’s voice softened.

‘I know.’ Laura sighed. She knew it was only because they cared about her, but they never questioned Richie’s or Jenny’s every decision.

‘Good. Just as long as you know that what we were saying was out of love. We’re proud of you for taking on this huge venture all on your own.’

Laura smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time her dad had told her he was proud of her. Probably the morning of her wedding to Harry. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes, pushing all thoughts of Harry from her mind. This was her day, her fresh beginning, and she wasn’t about to tarnish it by giving him a second’s thought. Opening her eyes again, she looked up at the lovingly cross-stitched sign hanging on the wall above the reception desk – Welcome to Pennycress Inn. ‘Thanks.’

‘I am too, sweetheart. Very proud.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ Laura ran her fingers across the wallpaper as she circled the hallway. Pausing, she tried to smooth a bump in the paper which loosened beneath her fingertips and peeled at the join. Oops. She’d have to get some super-strength glue on that.

‘And just so you know, we do have a pot of savings we can dip into if you need it.’ Her dad’s voice had returned to the quiet authoritative tone she knew too well.

‘That’s right, sweetheart. And your brother and sister won’t need to know about it. You can still tell everyone you’ve done it on your own.’ Her mum’s voice was hushed, as though Richie or Jenny were right in the next room.

‘Yes, our little secret.’

Here we go again. Laura rolled her eyes. Now they could no longer try to convince her to withdraw from the purchase, they were trying to throw money at her instead. ‘I don’t need your savings. I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself.’

‘Of course you are. We know you are. We just want you to remember you have options. That’s all, isn’t it, Phil?’

‘Yes, yes. Options. And if you need to put the place back on the market and come home, then we can cover the mortgage until it sells.’

Laura gritted her teeth as she unfurled another piece of wallpaper she’d noticed was beginning to peel. She lowered her voice, hoping her words sounded more confident than she was currently feeling. ‘I don’t need you to do that. I know what I’m doing. I didn’t go into this lightly. You know how much research I put into it. Besides, Pennycress Inn was up and running until a few months ago. The regulars will be back as soon as I reopen, I’m sure.’

‘We’re not doubting you. Far from it. We know you’re now a strong independent woman. We’re just offering a safety net, nothing more, nothing less.’ Her mum’s voice was kind despite what she was inferring.

‘Thanks, but I don’t need it. Any of it. I’ve got this.’ Laura jumped back and failed to stifle a scream as a lump of plaster crumbled beneath her fingers and fell to the floor.

‘Are you okay? What’s happened? Do you need your dad to drive down?’ Her mum spoke quickly, her voice full of concern.

‘No, no. I just…’ Laura looked down at her trainers, a dusting of plaster having turned the black fabric to white, before she focused on the wall again. Tentatively, she pulled the wallpaper back a little more, revealing cracks and dips in the plaster. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? During the viewing? Because she’d been so excited at the prospect of owning her very own inn that she’d failed to notice, that’s why. Now she’d just have to deal with it herself unless she wanted to give her parents the opportunity to utter those words – ‘I told you so’. The words they’d made it clear they expected to say to her. Well, she wouldn’t give them the chance. No, she’d show them that they could, they should, believe in her, that she was capable of this. ‘I almost dropped my phone, that’s all.’

‘Okay. Well, we’ll be off now. Jenny has just this minute popped over with the twins. Speak soon and remember, if you…’ Her mum’s voice trailed off as the phone line suddenly filled with excited screeches from Jenny’s children and Ruth turned her attention to greet her youngest daughter and grandchildren before returning to the phone. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Jenny wants a quick word.’

‘Hi, Jenny.’ Taking a step back, Laura tilted her head and perused the wall. Would the problem area be just that little patch of plaster beneath the wallpaper she’d pulled back or would she need to get the whole wall skimmed? Surely it would just be that little patch, wouldn’t it?

‘Hey, sis, the innkeeper!’ Jenny, now in full control of the phone, laughed down the line. ‘I can call you that now, can’t I? Innkeeper? It just makes you sound so weird – and old!’

‘Haha, thanks.’ Looking down at her fingers, covered in white plaster, Laura rubbed them together before wiping the powdery crumbs down the leg of her dark blue jeans.

‘Everything all right? You sound distracted.’

‘Yes, yes. All good.’ Taking a step forward again, Laura went to pull back more of the wallpaper before thinking better of it. She’d have a proper look at it later. After the phone call. ‘Just taking a look around, that’s all.’

‘And how is it? Is it—’ A child’s scream interrupted Jenny’s voice, followed by the line going quiet momentarily. ‘Sorry about that. Tammy and Toby are hell-bent on trying to kill each other. I blame the fact that Rob woke them up at five this morning when he went to work early.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Exactly. You did the right thing in choosing to buy an inn rather than having kids.’ Exasperation laced Jenny’s voice.

‘Well, I wouldn’t…’ What was the point? She knew her younger sister was only venting at her. Jenny was very aware that the decision Laura had had to make hadn’t actually been between having children and buying Pennycress. She’d had to decide whether to stay with Harry or not. Having kids with Harry hadn’t been the right choice, but having children at all? Well, she’d longed to be a mum ever since she could remember. She sighed. ‘That’s super early. No wonder the twins are tired. You must be shattered as well.’

‘Oh, you’ve no idea. What Rob forgets is that I’ve got to work too, in addition to running these two horrors to school and back and entertaining them until he gets home from the office.’ Jenny’s voice became distant again. She was probably trying to cajole the two six-year-olds into being kind to one another.

‘Right, well, I’ll let you go now then. It sounds as though you’ve enough on your plate.’

‘Yes, yes. Okay. We’ll have to pop by, and you can give us the grand tour. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Ending the call, Laura perched on the bottom step of the large ornate staircase and tapped the edge of her phone against her palm. She hadn’t wanted children with Harry, but she’d wanted them. She still wanted them. She always had. But definitely not with Harry. She hadn’t been able to see a future with him for years now. Seven-year itch? Maybe. They’d been married for seven years. Maybe that’s why he’d begun to close down, to emotionally shut down their relationship, to push her away.

Yes, about a month before she’d made the move from their marital home and slunk back to her parents’ house, he’d suggested they start a family, but she’d known a baby would have only acted as a sticking plaster. And not for long either. Besides, that had been the final nail in the coffin in making her mind up to leave. She’d realised then that he’d been grappling at straws. He’d felt it too. He’d realised their marriage was over as much as she had.

And this place – Pennycress Inn and her vision for it – wasn’t instead of starting a family. She hadn’t even dreamt of running her own business when she’d walked away from her marriage. No, this wasn’t a consolation prize, as Jenny suggested. This was the next chapter in her life. She couldn’t hang around waiting until her Prince Charming came and rescued her from a life of living back home with her parents and rocking up to her overly dull admin job every day. No, she didn’t have that luxury. She was on her own and she had to carve out a life for herself now. She had to be independent. To survive.

Leaning back on her elbows, she looked up at the ceiling. The beams etched with history were every bit as beautiful as she remembered when she’d first viewed the inn. Yes, she was going to be happy here. She just had that feeling.

We hope you enjoyed this exclusive extract. Welcome to Pennycress Inn is available to buy now by clicking on the image below:

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you so much for reading Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn. I hope you have enjoyed reading about Nicola’s journey from overcoming heartbreak to finding true love with the lovely Charlie, as much as I enjoyed writing her story.

A huge thank you to my wonderful children, Ciara and Leon, who motivate me to keep writing and working towards ‘changing our stars’ each and every day. Also thank you to my lovely family for always being there, through the good times and the trickier ones.

Many thanks to my brilliant editor, Francesca Best – thank you, I really appreciate all you do. Thank you also to Jade Craddock for copyediting, to Shirley Khan for proofreading and to Clare Stacey for designing the cover Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn. Thank you to all of team Boldwood!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah Hope is the author of many successful romance novels, including the bestselling Cornish Bakery series. Sarah lives in Central England with her two children and an array of pets and enjoys escaping to the seaside at any opportunity.

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ALSO BY SARAH HOPE

The Pennycress Inn Series

Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

The Cornish Village Series

Wagging Tails in the Cornish Village

Chasing Dreams in the Cornish Village

A Fresh Start in the Cornish Village

Happy Days Ahead in the Cornish Village

Escape to… Series

The Seaside Ice-Cream Parlour

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Christmas at Corner Cottage

First published in Great Britain in 2025 by Boldwood Books Ltd.

Copyright © Sarah Hope, 2025

Cover Design by Head Design Ltd.

Cover Images: Shutterstock and Clare Stacey

The moral right of Sarah Hope to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Paperback ISBN 978-1-83617-456-1

Large Print ISBN 978-1-83617-455-4

Hardback ISBN 978-1-83617-454-7

Ebook ISBN 978-1-83617-457-8

Kindle ISBN 978-1-83617-458-5

Audio CD ISBN 978-1-83617-449-3

MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-83617-450-9

Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-83617-451-6

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