The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
Lynsey James
’the most delightful escape, full of heart and warmth and humour.’ - Becca’s BooksThe perfect summer romance for a sunny afternoon and a picnic in the parkEmily Reed is having a bad day. Her mother has just dropped a devastating bombshell—the dad she’s known and loved for twenty-five years isn’t her biological father!Desperately in need of answers, Emily heads to Luna Bay covering her personal quest up as a work trip to Sunflower Cottage B&B.Setting up the ‘Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club’ should be a great way to meet the locals and maybe even find out who her father is. The only problem is brooding and insanely gorgeous, Noah, who is determined to make Emily’s stay perfectly uncomfortable.Discovering the truth after all these years was never going to be simple, but Emily will stop at nothing to uncover her past… even if her heart is getting in the way!Don’t miss a single book in the Luna Bay series:Book 1 – The Broken Hearts Book ClubBook 2 – The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast ClubBook 3 – The Silver Bell’s Christmas PantomimeWhat reviewers are saying about The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club‘I loved this book and finished it in two days, it is very much unputdownable!’ - Whispering Stories‘an enjoyable summer read’ - The Belgain Reviewer‘The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club is a lovely read, which would be perfect for some light holiday reading.’ - Portobello Book Blog
Emily Reed is having a bad day.
Her mother has just dropped a devastating bombshell – the dad she’s known and loved for twenty-five years isn’t her biological father!
Desperately in need of answers, Emily heads to Luna Bay, covering her personal quest up as a work trip to Sunflower Cottage B&B.
Setting up the ‘Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club’ should be a great way to meet the locals and maybe even find out who her father is. The only problem is brooding and insanely gorgeous Noah, who is determined to make Emily’s stay perfectly uncomfortable.
Discovering the truth after all these years was never going to be simple, but Emily will stop at nothing to uncover her past… even if her heart is getting in the way!
Praise for LYNSEY JAMES (#ulink_62f83c85-bf66-53d4-84ca-80f0ae2b71f7)
‘If you can’t wait for a little more warmth this summer, get reading Just the Way You Are, and you’ll have all the sunshine you need.’ – Lisa Dickenson, author of The Twelve Dates of Christmas, You Had Me at Merlot and Catch Me If You Cannes
‘The Broken Hearts Book Club is perfect for these colder, darker nights – it’s like a big warm comfort blanket in book form!’ – Rather Too Fond of Books
‘I adored this book. From the gorgeous setting of Luna Bay to the highly likable protagonist, The Broken Hearts Book Club was a total treat.’ – Blabbering About Books
‘...I loved that Lynsey made me so invested in the characters – not just Ava, all of them. They all have their quirks and their flaws; they made me laugh, they made me cry and they made me want to scream at my Kindle. That marks the sign of fantastically real characters.’ – Jenny in Neverland on Just the Way You Are
‘Dreamy and delightful!’ – Chicks That Read on Just the Way You Are
‘If you’re a fan of romance or a chick-lit addict... then I urge you to give this book a go. It’s warm, clever, sweet and an absolute delight.’ – Bookaholic Holly on Just the Way You Are
Books by Lynsey James (#ulink_bf56a64e-8bcd-53a5-a9b9-07f6447a9cfa)
Just the Way You Are
The Luna Bay series:
The Broken Hearts Book Club
The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime
The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
Lynsey James
Copyright (#ulink_ab170372-0a22-576a-9c67-ca9a2ed5e385)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016
Copyright © Lynsey James 2016
Lynsey James asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780008189952
Version date: 2018-07-23
LYNSEY JAMES
I was born in Fife in 1991 and have been telling people how to spell my name ever since. I’m an incurable bookworm who loves nothing more than getting lost in a good story with memorable characters. I started writing when I was really young and credit my lovely grandad – and possibly a bump on the head from a Mr Frosty machine – with my love of telling stories. I used to write my own episodes of Friends and act them out in front of my family (in fact I’m sure I put Ross and Rachel together first!).
A careers adviser at school once told me writing wasn’t a ‘good option’ and, for a few years, I believed her. I tried a little bit of everything, including make-up artistry, teaching and doing admin for a chocolate fountain company. The free chocolate was brilliant. When I left my job a couple of years ago, I started writing full-time while I looked for another one. As soon as I started working on my story, I fell in love and decided to finally pursue my dream. I haven’t looked back since.
When I’m not writing, eating cake or drinking tea, I’m daydreaming about the day Dylan O’Brien finally realises we’re meant to be together. It’ll happen one day…
Acknowledgements (#ulink_bf3b40b3-b7f4-5347-8d3f-5a90583f6c8d)
This book and the ones before it wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing community of writers and bloggers I’m privileged to be a part of. To list all of them would take about a year and fifteen books’ worth of space, so here are a few: Daniel Riding, Beth O’Brien, Erin McEwan, Holly Martin, Laura Lovelock, Silke Auwers, Louise Wykes and Laura Holdsworth. Thanks to everyone for all your support, it means the world to me.
Ann Troup, thank you for teaching me about dodgy toasters and exploding food.
Can’t do a set of acknowledgements without mentioning my wonderful family. Mum, Dad, Kyle and Gran: I love you guys more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. I hope I’ve made you guys proud.
Dixie, I love you so much I’ve made you a character in this book. Even though you frequently made me stop writing to play with you or cuddle you!
Jen, you are the best friend I could ask for. I love you and your princess hair.
Thank you to my amazing editor, Victoria. You really are fantastic. Without you, I wouldn’t be writing these acknowledgements now.
To all the team at HQ Digital, THANK YOU. You’re absolutely amazing and have made my dreams come true. Thank you so, so much.
To Granddad, the world’s best storyteller.
None of this would be possible without you.
Contents
Cover (#ub0883b9f-8cb5-5b7f-9ec4-a9c8a2d2d8fd)
Blurb (#u7a45edb5-9e4c-52c8-b6b1-82bbcec0d3b8)
Praise (#ulink_040cad79-d82c-5fe1-92cc-c8422e564b9e)
Book List (#ulink_230fdddd-66e3-57ab-a069-9de4681d45eb)
Title Page (#u91515739-cead-570d-a7fe-cdc7ae4b2845)
Copyright (#ub8850ef9-7388-53ce-9ba8-e12208f8edf9)
Author Bio (#u33eb79a5-588d-5cc9-8f41-4c98cb84093c)
Acknowledgements (#ulink_bb276741-19bd-5e36-8ea4-3863a48b40e4)
Dedication (#ue59afe9e-9288-537d-aec8-8a77431393e4)
Chapter One (#ulink_e0eaa8a4-5b07-56da-908a-678bd54cc4bf)
Chapter Two (#ulink_2a3d5a71-6b96-5098-8ec2-ae289f885f60)
Chapter Three (#ulink_0d5c1766-dfa2-58f5-8fdd-a3edf928f71b)
Chapter Four (#ulink_fb1f26f1-d417-5022-a29b-5bb5616cc450)
Chapter Five (#ulink_8f09852e-7382-5296-a713-894338098cfa)
Chapter Six (#ulink_ceda5712-48b8-5beb-bf8f-4c7bc20b8ec7)
Chapter Seven (#ulink_b91f4a8f-388f-5a1f-87ee-edaf80774f67)
Chapter Eight (#ulink_6ab7aa97-b707-558b-a15c-526980f97908)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_1bb85c10-ad57-57e1-8de8-9c11458915eb)
It’s coming together. I can feel it.
There was something in his voice, a little nuance that told me I was moments away from success. Excitement began to build within me and I felt a million tiny butterflies release themselves into my tummy. This is it, I thought. This is the big moment. The one I’ve been waiting for.
‘I promise you, Mr Woodward; you won’t regret becoming part of Walter Marshall Hotels. We’re a trusted, reputable brand and, under our name, you can expect to see a significant increase in both visitor numbers and yearly profits. You’ve seen the numbers for yourself; you know it makes sense.’
As Mr Woodward repeated his numerous concerns about becoming part of a ‘faceless corporate machine’, I shifted my chair from side to side and drank the remains of my green smoothie. My face burst into a smile as the combination of kale, spinach, water and avocado hit my taste buds. There was no better way to start the day, in my opinion. I’d never been able to stomach a full breakfast; I preferred something quick to kick-start my busy mornings.
After listening to my prospective client’s worries and gripes, I knew exactly what to say to ease his mind. I’d dealt with a million owners like him; it was almost second nature to me.
‘Don’t think of it as becoming part of a faceless corporate machine,’ I said in soothing tones. ‘Think of it as joining a big, happy family who are ready to welcome you with open arms. You’re worried about your guesthouse losing its charm and I understand that, but I can assure you that won’t happen. While we do like to make some improvements to our establishments, we’ll do everything in partnership with you. Mulberry House will still have its charm and character because that’s the way you have made it. All you’ll be getting from us is the chance to be part of our established, reputable brand. If you join us, you’ll be able to really put Mulberry House on the map. What do you say, Mr Woodward? Are you ready to take the chance?’
There was a little pause and, for a moment, I worried I’d overdone it. By the end, I did sound like an eighties aerobics instructor. I swallowed hard and chewed my thumbnail. Please, please let this happen…
‘OK, Emily, you’ve got yourself a deal! Send me over the contracts and I’ll sign them.’
‘Excellent!’ I had to stop myself from dropping the phone and doing a happy dance. ‘Welcome to Walter Marshall Hotels, Mr Woodward.’
We said our goodbyes and I hung up. A feeling of elation hit me like a thunderbolt and I threw my hands up in the air in celebration. I hadn’t just closed another deal, you see; I’d closed the deal. This was the one that would change everything, or so I hoped.
‘Someone looks happy!’ My best friend, Frankie, perched herself on my desk. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘Just clinched the Mulberry House deal!’ I reached up and high-fived her. ‘Three months it’s taken me to persuade the owner to join and he’s just agreed! I’m sending him over the contracts now.’
‘Nice one!’ Frankie grinned and reached into her bag. ‘This calls for a celebration. How about we go to breakfast at that little café down the road? I could do with a fry-up!’
I shook my head and got out of my seat. My best friend was one of those impossibly skinny people who ate what she liked and never exercised. I’d found myself picking away at a Caesar salad while she wolfed down a cheeseburger and chips, wondering how the hell she managed it, on many occasions.
‘Nah, no thanks; I don’t really like breakfast. We can go for lunch later if you like?’
She shook her head and plonked herself down in my now vacant chair. ‘How can you not like breakfast? It’s the best meal of the day!’
‘Breakfast is just a load of stodgy food that slows you down of a morning. Give me a green smoothie any day.’
The thought of a plate piled high with greasy fried food popped into my mind and I wanted to gag. It was the food equivalent of my worst nightmare. I’d rather do the eating trial from I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here than force down a fry-up.
‘You absolute freak. Remind me again why we’re best friends?’ Frankie stuck her tongue out at me.
‘Because I have way too many incriminating photos of you after one cocktail too many,’ I shot back. ‘Anyway, I’ve barely got time to think this week, let alone have breakfast. I’ve got clients to wine and dine, after all. I’m taking one to that Jack Vettriano exhibition at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and going to one of those open-air concerts on Glasgow Green with another.’
‘You’re such a bloody culture vulture, aren’t you? Give me a night in The Garage and a greasy kebab any day of the week. Cities were made for people like you,’ Frankie replied with a smile.
‘What can I say, I’m a city slicker! Anyway, I’d better go and tell Paul that Mulberry House is in the bag. Hopefully now the promotion will be too.’
Frankie gave me a thumbs-up. ‘Good luck!’
As I strode towards my boss’s office, I couldn’t help but feel excited. This was the start of something amazing. The next phase of my life was about to begin and I couldn’t wait.
*
Or not.
As I shared my amazing news, Paul sat back in his chair and winced like he was in a lot of pain. There was a lot of sucking in through his teeth, head tilts and grimaces.
‘The thing is, Emily…’ He paused and stared around the room, trying to decide what the next words out of his mouth would be. ‘Tara’s kind of beaten you to the punch.’
My blood instantly began to boil and I wondered if steam was about to come out of my ears like in a cartoon. This was supposed to be the best moment of my life and my biggest rival had gone and pulled the rug from underneath me. Tara bloody Murray.
‘She’s what? But you said if I could get Mulberry House in the bag, the promotion was mine! What happened?’ I was all too aware how shrill my voice had gone, but I didn’t care. I was too busy trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill out at any moment.
Paul shrugged and I was seriously tempted to punch him in the face. ‘She came in about five minutes before you did, and told me she’d landed the Ashbury Hotel. It’s a massive coup for us and I’ve decided to give her the promotion.’
No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. I wracked my brains, searching for a way to keep my dream of being Emily Reed, Executive of Business Development, alive and kicking. There had to be a way, there just had to be…
‘Come on, Paul,’ I pleaded, ‘you know how hard I’ve worked for this! I’ve closed way more deals than Tara; just look at my figures! I just got Mr bloody Woodward, our most difficult owner yet, to become part of our chain. That’s got to mean something, hasn’t it?’
I looked into my boss’s deep-brown eyes and could tell he was wavering. He pursed his lips and rested his chin on steepled fingers.
‘I like you, Emily, you know I do. You’d be a great business development executive; there’s no doubt about it. And you’re right: Tara’s numbers aren’t nearly as impressive as yours…’
He trailed off, leaving me in suspense for a very long minute. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my brow as I waited for his verdict. My heartbeat thundered in my ears and I dug my nails into my palms. My whole life was hanging on the next few seconds and I could barely handle the suspense.
‘Leave it with me,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll have a think about it and call you both into the office later.’
I let out the breath I’d been holding in and struggled not to let a stream of expletives follow it. Instead, I plastered a fake smile on my face, thanked Paul for his time and left. Although it may not have turned out exactly as I wanted, it wasn’t over yet. The dream was still alive.
*
My plans for lunch with Frankie were ruined by a text from my mother. She wanted to meet for what she called ‘an inspirational pep talk’ and wouldn’t take no for answer. Apparently she also had something important to tell me. There was nothing inspirational or peppy about these meetings. In reality, it was an hour of her telling me all the ways I was going wrong in life while we ate expensive food.
Today’s venue of choice was Café Rose, a lovely little place just off Sauchiehall Street. I loved living in Glasgow; it was so pretty and vibrant and the people were bloody amazing. I’d been lucky enough to call it home for the past twenty-five years and I didn’t plan on budging any time soon.
I walked in and my mother was instantly recognisable. She was as glamorous as always, clad in a fitted navy Mac and black skinny jeans. Round her neck was a gorgeous printed scarf with little owls on it and her hair was effortlessly styled into a shiny bob. As soon as she saw me, she got up and greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Whatever she had to tell me wouldn’t be good, I suspected.
‘Lovely to see you, hen!’ She enveloped me in a hug and squeezed me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
‘You too,’ I replied when she let me go. ‘Have you ordered yet?’
She shook her head and we sat down, each picking up a menu to study. I saw her peeking over hers to look at me, but her eyes darted away when I looked back.
‘Have you done something with your hair?’ she asked.
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Nope, why?’
She looked at me for a second, tilted her head and squinted. ‘Hmm, maybe you should then.’
Blimey, she’s started early. Usually, we’d at least ordered our drinks before she started finding fault with me.
‘Anyway, let’s talk about that promotion you’re up for,’ she continued. ‘This is the big one, Emily; land this one and you’ll be one of the directors by the time you’re thirty. Have they said anything to you about it?’
I shook my head, deciding to hold off mentioning the fact that Tara was also in the frame. Reaching my goals and meeting people’s expectations was what I ‘did’. Any hint that I might not be successful just wouldn’t wash with my mum. I always had my eyes on a prize of some kind: a job, a flat, a car. Achieving had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember; second place wasn’t an option.
‘Not yet. Paul said I’d hear back today, though.’
‘Excellent! You’ll get it, darling. I’ve got every faith in you. You’re one of life’s high-flyers. You really should stop wearing those awful jackets with the shoulder pads, though. They make you look so… sharp and shoulder pads died a death in the eighties. What about a nice flowery dress or a pair of jeans instead?’
I sighed and gritted my teeth. ‘Or I could just turn up to work wearing my Cookie Monster onesie and unicorn slippers?’
‘I’m just saying there’s no need to look so corporate, that’s all.’ She picked up my hand to inspect my nails. ‘Oh, Emily, when was the last time you got a manicure? These are terrible!’
My blood began to boil and I could feel my already thin patience beginning to fray even more. Although I knew my mum meant well, the constant stream of advice could be a little hard to stomach. I did my best to take it in the spirit it was intended and tried to attract the attention of a passing waiter. The only thing that would make this situation better was eating then leaving as quickly as possible. However, he passed me by without a second glance.
‘Excuse me!’ My mum put her hand up and another staff member came right over to take our orders. That was the thing with my mum: she had an air about her that commanded respect.
‘I’ll have the loaded potato skins to start and… What about you, Em? What do you fancy?’
I glanced down at the menu one last time. ‘Just a garden salad for me. I’m not that hungry.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mum scowl and she told the waitress to bring a bowl of chips and some mozzarella sticks too. The girl took off before I could amend my order and a few minutes later our food arrived at the table.
‘I’ll never eat all of this,’ I said, looking down at it, ‘but I’m going to demolish these mozzarella sticks. Anyway, what did you bring me here to tell me? You said it was important.’
Mum’s knife and fork paused as she was about to cut into one of her loaded potato skins. All the colour drained from her face and she pursed her lips. I saw a flicker of what looked like fear cross her face, but it was gone before I could ask any questions.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She waved a dismissive hand and popped a forkful of potato, bacon and cheese into her mouth. ‘It can wait until you come round tonight. So, come on, tell me what’s new. Have you got yourself a man yet?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope. I don’t have time for all that romantic stuff; too busy trying to conquer the world, remember?’
I peeked up and saw my mum visibly wince. She leaned over and took my hand in hers. ‘Emily, you really should try and meet someone nice. Although maybe get some highlights in your hair first.’
Chapter 2 (#ulink_d35b9fff-b6bf-529d-8a3b-fe8de779c304)
Over the course of lunch, Mum pointed out no fewer than twenty things I had to sort out in my life. They included my flat, my car and my pores (they were apparently ‘huge’). Luckily for me, my dad came to join us just after the main course had been served. Mum was never quite so critical when he was around.
‘Emily, you’re like that Bruno Mars song,’ he’d said when Mum subtly suggested I should stop wearing the colour grey. ‘You’re amazing just the way you are.’
I couldn’t help but smile. Dad had my back in every situation, even if his lines were a bit cheesy. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stay for dessert and Mum’s suggestions for improving my life came thick and fast. Another attempt to find out what she wanted to tell me failed; she dodged the question and said she was late for an appointment. It would have to wait until I went round for dinner later that night. Somehow, I got the feeling a big bombshell was on its way, and that I wouldn’t like it one bit.
*
By the time I got back to the office, I was more than ready to throw myself back into work. It was the one thing I could always count on in life: closing deals, enticing new customers to join our group and developing my portfolio of clients had become a way of life to me. When I was working, all my mum’s criticism and the stresses of the world seemed a million miles away.
The first thing I saw as I walked in was Tara Murray’s smug, cat-like grin. My stomach instantly turned and I wondered if Paul had gone back on his earlier promise to hold off on a decision about the promotion.
‘Hi, Emily!’ Her voice was dripping with syrup and I felt like throwing up in my mouth. ‘Have you heard the news? I closed on the Ashbury Hotel today.’
Her smile was so sweet and simpering that she made a Care Bear look bitter. I knew I had to hide how annoyed I was, so plastered a fake smile to my face and hoped it would stay.
‘I heard,’ I replied through clenched teeth. ‘Congratulations. I signed Mulberry House just before lunch.’
Although I couldn’t swear to it, I was sure I saw Tara’s smile shrink a little. She knew how much Paul wanted to land Mulberry House; the Ashbury Hotel was small fry in comparison. I could see it in her eyes as she realised the promotion might not be as ‘in the bag’ as she thought.
‘Oh!’ Her voice rose by an octave and she clapped her hands together. ‘Good for you, that’s brilliant! Have you spoken to Paul?’
‘He’s aware.’ I flashed her a quick smile and sprinted to my desk before she could ask any more questions.
My phone ringing made me jump. It was Paul. He’d made his decision.
*
Minutes later, Tara and I were standing in his office, our respective nerves on tenterhooks as we waited to hear who the proud recipient of the promotion would be. Paul was cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder as he took a last-minute phone call. Nervously, I tapped my foot on the floor and worried at my thumbnail. Every second was eking by slowly, mocking and tantalising me. My whole life was hinging on this one single moment.
Paul muttered a goodbye then put the phone down, turning his attention to us. ‘Sorry about that! Right, so, as you know, you two are the top candidates for the business development executive position. You’ve both got great numbers and today you both closed really important accounts. This company is really lucky to have you two.’
His eyes lingered on Tara for a little longer than I was comfortable with. I couldn’t help feeling like I was third-wheeling something, but I wasn’t sure what.
‘Anyway.’ Paul cleared his throat before he continued. ‘I’ve had a think about things and, given the circumstances, I’m giving the promotion to Tara. Congratulations!’
‘What?’ My voice barely rose above a whisper. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; all my hard work and dedication had come to nothing. My world slowly began to unravel around me and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it.
My boss shrugged at me and got up to celebrate with Tara, who was jumping up and down and squealing like an excited toddler who’d just found a new box of crayons. She threw her arms around his neck and I noticed two pops of colour rise in his cheeks. The hug lasted a little too long and I was sure I saw a lingering look pass between them.
‘Thank you so much, Paul. I won’t let you down!’ she said, her voice shrill with excitement.
She scampered out of the office like an excited puppy, eager to share the news with her little coven of friends. When she closed the door, I turned to Paul. My arms were folded across my chest, like that would hold all my anger and disappointment in.
‘Better get back to work,’ he said, trying out a smile. ‘Lots of hotels out there we don’t have in our chain yet!’
‘Cut the crap, Paul; that promotion should’ve been mine and you know it! You said it yourself. My numbers were better than hers and I signed Mulberry House today. So, unless Tara managed to pull a master stroke and get us the bloody Savoy or something, I don’t see why you promoted her over me.’
Paul blew air out through his cheeks and laced his fingers together behind his head. ‘It’s just one of those things, Emily; better luck next time, eh?’
Something was off, I could feel it. There had been something in the way Tara had just leapt on him that didn’t sit right with me. But what could I do? Throwing baseless accusations around wouldn’t help and would probably put me in an even worse position. I gave him my best I’m-onto-you stare and stalked off, wondering how the best day ever had gone so badly wrong.
*
By the time it came to finishing for the day, I was more than ready to leave the office. I’d lost my dream job to none other than Tara bloody Murray and had had to listen to my mum finding fault with me for most of my lunch hour. Now it was time to go home, put my feet up and… Oh no. I screwed my face up as I realised I’d have to sit through yet another thrilling instalment of Things Emily Could and Should Be Doing Better.
‘Great,’ I said to the largely empty office. ‘This’ll be a barrel of laughs!’
Mum and Dad’s plush flat in the West End of Glasgow was like something from an interior design catalogue. It was decorated in subtle, muted shades of cream and brown with hardwood floors and sumptuous furniture. Tasteful photographs and artwork were strategically placed around the rooms, yet the whole place still managed to look cosy and lived-in. It had taken several meltdowns to achieve that look, including one about whether ecru or eggshell would work best in the living room.
Mum greeted me at the door, arms outstretched with a large bottle of champagne in one hand.
‘Hiya, darling!’ Her accent was thicker than usual; her vowels were slacker and her tone wasn’t as clipped. She’d obviously had her standard ‘few glasses of wine’. ‘Come away in, dinner’s nearly ready.’
I wondered if her tipsy state would mean she’d tell me what the ‘something important’ was from lunch that day. I followed her inside and the gorgeous smell of cooking ensnared my senses. Unless I was very much mistaken, it was my mum’s signature spaghetti carbonara.
‘Something smells nice,’ I said, hoping the compliment would lead in nicely to some subtle detective work. ‘Listen, I—’
‘Did I tell you Gillian from my book club’s been having an affair? Husband caught her in bed with their accountant last week and threw her out. Rumour has it she and the accountant are staying in a hotel somewhere and planning to start a new life in France!’
Mum shot me a serene smile as she bustled into the kitchen. I knew her well enough to read the message behind it: don’t ask me what I wanted to tell you about earlier; you’ll get nowhere.
I stood in the doorway to the kitchen while she chatted away happily and dished up dinner onto her favourite china plates. Behind me, I felt a hand on my shoulder: Dad.
‘Back for another one of your mum’s “inspirational pep talks” then?’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Good luck!’
‘Hey you, any more of your lip and you’re not getting dessert!’ Mum threw a smile over her shoulder as she sprinkled some Parmesan over the spaghetti. ‘Anyway, dinner’s ready.’
As much as I enjoyed tucking into Mum’s utterly delicious food, I couldn’t help wondering when the bombshell would be dropped. I kept looking for gaps in the conversation where I could bring it up, but they were both making it difficult. One minute, the topic was politics and the next Dad was passing on idle gossip from his mates at the golf club.
Eventually, I decided a direct approach was needed. I set my fork down and pushed my plate away from me.
‘Mum,’ I began, dreading the words that were about to come out of my mouth, and what might follow. ‘When we were at lunch today, you said you had something to tell me, but when I asked what it was you said it could wait till later. Well… it’s later! Could you just tell me what it is so I’m not worrying myself sick about it?’
Dad sighed and threw his cutlery down. ‘Pamela, you didn’t! I thought we’d already decided we weren’t going to tell her!’
‘She has a right to know, Simon! It might’ve been easy for you to keep this a secret for twenty-five years, but it hasn’t for me. Emily’s at an age now where she can make her own decisions—’
I shot up from my seat with such force that the entire table shook. ‘Instead of talking about me like I’m not here, tell me what’s going on!’
Silence fell over the table and Mum slowly got up, her face taking on an odd grey pallor. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never once seen her ruffled or flustered.
Until now.
‘Emily, you might not like what you’re about to hear, but please don’t fly off the handle.’
Dread crept over my skin and my eyes darted over to my dad, trying to get some clue as to what was about to happen from his face. It was set in a hard, stern line that gave nothing away. It was unusual to see him without his trademark carefree smile.
‘What’s going on?’ I fixed Dad with a hard stare, hoping he’d shed some light on the twenty-five-year-old secret he and Mum had been keeping.
Mum left the room and the silence grew even more uncomfortable. It was such a contrast from the lively buzz of conversation there had been just a few minutes ago. I looked at Dad again, but he didn’t meet my gaze.
‘We’ve always told each other everything in this family,’ I said. ‘What’s so bad that you and Mum had to keep it from me?’
His head snapped up and I was sure I could see tears in his eyes. ‘You don’t understand, Emily… It was a very difficult decision for both of us at the time. Mum didn’t want to keep it from you, but I felt it was best…’
Before I could ask him to explain himself, Mum came back with a large shoebox in her arms. Her eyes were rimmed with red, as though she’d been crying, and her skin was paler than ever.
‘Emily, before you open this box… I… I just want you to know that I love you sweetheart. And so does your dad.’
She handed the box over to me, hands trembling and breathing ragged in her chest. I stared down at it, tracing the worn brown cardboard and wondering what lurked underneath. Whatever it was, it was enough to unsettle my usually unflappable mum and make my dad upset.
I pursed my lips and looked up at them. Dad’s hands were on Mum’s shoulders and they looked as though they were bracing themselves for the dire consequences of my opening the box.
‘I take it there’s not a pair of brand-new Louboutins in here?’ I managed a weak chuckle, but it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘Guess I’d better open it then…’
I sucked in a huge lungful of air and lifted the lid, half expecting a load of demons to come flying out like Pandora’s Box. However, all I found inside was a huge pile of letters.
I frowned, picking one up like it was an unexploded bomb. ‘Oh God, guys, don’t tell me these are your old love letters to each other!’
Mum let out a huge, sharp sigh. ‘No, not quite.’
Dad ran a hand across his tired face and looked like he wanted to run out of the room and never come back. ‘I told you this was a bad idea, Pamela.’
‘She deserves to know, Simon! We should’ve told her years ago!’
I couldn’t take their bickering any longer; it wasn’t helping anyone. As they sniped back and forth at each other, I reached into the box, took out a letter and ripped it open. The sound of the envelope tearing brought the argument to an abrupt halt and they looked at me as if I’d just unleashed hell.
‘Oh God…’ Mum’s voice was a ragged, trembling whisper. Dad clutched her hand as sweat began to bead on his forehead.
‘Let’s see what all this is about, shall we?’ I forced brightness into my voice and smiled, hoping it would lessen the tension in the atmosphere. By the looks on my parents’ faces, it hadn’t worked.
I wriggled the letter out of the envelope, treating it like it was made of fine china. Whatever was on this page, I said to myself, it wouldn’t have the power to change anything. They were just words; why were Mum and Dad so scared of a bunch of words?
Then I read the letter, and that was when all hell broke loose.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_d1390982-d070-5b3d-a4f5-805cd023eef2)
Dear Pam,
Thank you for your letter and the pictures you included from Emily’s fifth birthday party. She looked absolutely beautiful in her pink party dress, didn’t she?
I know this is yet another special occasion I’ve missed. I’ve spent the last five years wondering about her: if she looks like me or if she has any of my personality traits. I know our arrangement is in place for a reason – my marriage to Diane would be ruined if she found out I’d fathered another child – but it still hurts that Emily has to miss out on knowing her real father. Still, I know it’s for the best. She has a man to call Daddy and I’m sure he’s a wonderful father to her. It’s best for everyone if I stay away, live my life and let you all live yours.
I still think about that night, you know. The moonlight on the bay, the look in your eyes, the texture of your skin: it’s all so clear to me, even though five years have passed. I do wish things could be different and that we could be together with our beautiful daughter. I have a wonderful life with Diane and out daughter, Nicola – they’re the best family I could ever ask for – but I can’t quite forget what I had with you. It’s just a wish, though, and where does wishing ever get you? I hope you, Simon and Emily are happy in Glasgow; from what you told me, you have a very good life there. I’ll always remember my brief time with you with fondness: it gave me some incredible memories that I’ll never forget. Hope you and Emily are both well. Perhaps one day in the future, I can meet her. One day.
All my love,
Derek
I read the letter over and over again, hoping that would somehow change the words within it. Each time I looked, though, the message was the same. My world cracked and slipped beneath me as I tried to wrap my head around what I’d just seen.
‘Who’s Derek?’ My voice came out as a strangled croak because my mouth was so dry. ‘And why were you sending him photos of my birthday party?’
I looked up at my parents, studying their expressions. Both of them looked utterly devastated. Mum had started to cry, while Dad didn’t know where to put himself.
‘Come on, guys, who is he?’ I’d learnt a long time ago never to ask a question I didn’t already know the answer to. I knew exactly who Derek was; there was only one reason Mum would be sending him photographs of me. All I wanted was to hear it from them. Maybe I’d be proven wrong and this nightmare would be over.
It was Mum who spoke first, as usual. She’d regained some of her composure, but not enough to mask how worried she was.
‘Derek is… Emily, he’s—’
‘He’s your real father.’ Dad’s voice stabbed the air, none of its usual warmth and humour present. ‘Derek Simpson is your biological father.’
With that, my neat and ordered world slipped and crumbled around me.
*
Of course, I wanted answers. I demanded to be told absolutely everything from start to finish, with no details left out. And, while dessert was being dished up, Mum obliged.
‘Just after I married your dad, I went on holiday to visit a friend who lived in a little village in Yorkshire called Luna Bay. It’s a beautiful place, right by the sea. While I was there, I…’ She trailed off to take a sideways glance at Dad, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘I met a man named Derek Simpson. We, er, became friends, I suppose and… Well, one thing led to another and I found out I was pregnant shortly after I came back to Scotland.’
Out the corner of my eye, I could see Dad visibly tense up. It was strange to see him be anything other than carefree and happy. Usually, he was telling Mum to calm down if she was flapping about something, or cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.
I rose from my chair and turned to face him. ‘Dad, please tell me this isn’t true.’
He blinked back tears and stared down at his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Emily…’
With that, my last shred of hope disappeared. I felt as though I was in some sort of nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I could feel the last twenty-five years unravelling at a rate of knots. The man I’d called Dad my whole life wasn’t my dad. I’d apparently been the product of some ill-fated holiday romance with someone Mum had barely known.
‘Emily, you know this doesn’t change anything,’ said Dad. ‘I’ve loved you since the day you were born and nothing will get in the way of that.’
I nodded, feeling tears welling up inside me. ‘I know, I know… God, I can’t bloody believe this!’
My knees gave way and I collapsed back onto my chair, throwing my head into my hands. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? You’ve kept this from me my whole life; didn’t you think I had a right to know who I really am?’
Mum reached over and put a hand on top of mine. ‘You already know who you are; you’re Emily Louise Reed and, like your dad said, nothing’s going to change that. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew who’d be the best father to you and it certainly wasn’t some man who lived nearly two hundred miles away! It was this man sitting right here. I wanted to give you the best possible life I could and that meant cutting Derek out completely. He’d have been no good to you, sweetheart, believe me.’
I drew my hand away. ‘Dad’s been amazing and he’ll always be my real dad, but I still had a right to know about this Derek guy. It should’ve been up to me whether to include him in my life, instead of you making the decision for me.’
Mum stiffened and pursed her lips. ‘Everything you need to know about that man is in those letters. I may have told him it was best to stay away, but he chose to listen. He could’ve ignored all that and come to see you anyway, but he didn’t. He stayed in Luna Bay to protect the perfect life he had there. That’s all you need to know about him, Emily.’
I got up from my seat again and grabbed the box, shaking a few letters loose onto the dining table. ‘Well, why don’t you let me make my own mind up about that, eh? Just for a change.’
Before anything else could be said, I stormed out of the flat, taking my box of secrets with me.
*
Going through the letters wasn’t an easy task. As far as I could tell, Derek had written one every year on my birthday since I was born, then stopped suddenly a few years ago. By the time the sun rose over Glasgow, I’d read most of them and learnt a great deal about the man I now knew to be my biological father. Mum had been right; traces of him permeated each and every one. I knew he loved the village he lived in, played for the local cricket team and ran a café with his wife, Diane. Yet there was still so much I didn’t know, things that words on a page would never be able to tell me. So, for as much as I’d learnt about Derek Simpson, I still didn’t feel like I knew him at all.
I slumped into work ten minutes late, feeling like a zombie and clutching my cup of takeaway coffee for dear life. Frankie’s eyes widened with shock when she saw me collapse into my chair.
‘God, I knew Reed family dinners were eventful but this is something else! What happened? Did your dad break out the good champagne or something?’ She chuckled good-naturedly but stopped when she saw my scowl. ‘Or not…’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ I heaved a weary sigh and opened my emails to see if I had any leads to follow up that day. As I tried to look at the screen, the words on it swam in front of me. All I could think about was last night’s revelation.
Frankie swung her chair round to face me, her keen eyes burning into the side of my head. ‘Try me.’
I looked at her, wondering whether to unload my burden onto her. A problem shared was a problem halved, after all, but Frankie had a certain flair for the dramatic that didn’t help in some situations.
In the end, I caved. ‘Last night, my parents chose to tell me that my dad isn’t my biological dad.’
A curious mixture of expressions crossed my best friend’s face, ranging from shock to disbelief and finally settling on amusement. She let out a loud snort and burst into a fit of giggles.
‘It’s not bloody funny!’
‘Oh come on, Em! It can’t be true, can it? Your parents are the most solid and stable people I know, plus they’ve been together forever. No way is Simon Reed not your dad!’
I swallowed hard, trying not to let tears spill out. ‘Well, he isn’t. According to my mum, some bloke called Derek from Yorkshire’s my biological dad.’
Frankie’s giggly reverie stopped as soon as she saw my face. ‘Oh my God, you’re serious, aren’t you? Emily, I’m so sorry! I… I thought you were messing around.’
She rolled her chair over to mine and pulled me in for a comforting hug. I sank into her shoulder, not knowing what else to do except cry.
‘As if losing that promotion to Tara bloody Murray wasn’t enough; now I find out my dad isn’t really my dad!’ I sobbed, the words barely coherent.
The sound of Paul’s office door opening interrupted my sobbing. I craned my neck to see none other than Tara Murray sashaying out into the main office, blowing a cheeky kiss to our boss before heading back to her desk. On her way there, she stopped and turned to face me.
‘Emily, I meant to say I’m so sorry you didn’t get the promotion.’ Her head was cocked to one side, as if she was talking to a child instead of someone the same age as her. ‘Paul was just talking me through it all; you know, my additional responsibilities, how much travel there’s going to be and stuff like that. I feel awful that you didn’t get it, really I do.’
Her syrupy-sweet voice clashed dramatically with the smugness in her face. I could see right through her; she was basking in the glory of her new-found promotion and rubbing my face in it.
‘Oh, I’m sure you won’t lose too much sleep over it,’ I replied, my expression like curdled milk. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you’ve got loads of work to do, so don’t let me keep you.’
She flashed me a final smile, then walked back to her desk. She threw a look towards Paul’s office over her shoulder. It lingered just a little too long and the realisation hit me like a ten-ton truck.
‘Oh God, I’ve been so bloody stupid!’ I let out a hollow laugh and threw my head into my hands.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Frankie.
‘Ask yourself this: why would Paul promote someone with crap sales figures, who’s hardly generated any potential leads, and who clearly isn’t capable of doing the job? I thought her blowing him a kiss just then was strange, but did you see that look she just did? They’re obviously involved with each other! That’ll be why Tara got promoted over me.’
I let out a frustrated sigh and banged my fists on the desk. ‘It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?’
Frankie rubbed my back. ‘Maybe you should take the rest of the day off? Go home and talk to your mum about this Derek bloke; you must have loads of questions to ask her.’
‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘No, I’m staying here.’
I turned my full attention to the screen in front of me, losing myself in the work I had to do that day. Everything would be OK as long as I kept Mum’s revelation firmly shut out. If I didn’t think about it, it would slowly fade away.
*
Of course, it didn’t.
In fact, the more I tried not to think about Mum’s revelation, the more it occupied my mind. By lunchtime, it had permeated my every thought and even my questions had questions. I desperately craved answers, but had no idea where to turn for them. Every kernel of an idea ended up at a dead end; I was glad to leave the office on my lunch hour.
‘What am I going to do, Frankie?’ I asked as we sat in our favourite sushi restaurant on Queen Street. ‘I mean, how could they keep something like this from me my whole bloody life? Didn’t they think I had a right to know who my biological father was? It’s not as if I’d have ditched my dad and run off to find this Derek bloke, is it? Nothing’s ever going to change the fact that Simon Reed is the man who’s been there for every big moment in my life and brought me up as his own. I just… I don’t know. I feel as if my whole life up to this point has been one big lie.’
I grabbed a California roll and stuffed it into my mouth, hoping the taste would somehow distract me from my ever-growing mountain of problems.
Frankie, cool and collected as ever, raised one of her perfectly defined eyebrows as she ate her spicy tuna roll. ‘The way I see it, Em, there’s only one thing you can do: go to Luna Bay. You’re due loads of leave since you practically live in the office, and I’m sure Paul wouldn’t mind. While you’re there, you could meet up with Derek and finally get the answers you’re looking for.’
I grimaced. ‘I dunno, Frankie. It’s in the arse-end of nowhere, I wouldn’t be able to do any work and there won’t be a decent coffee shop or sushi restaurant for miles! You know me; if I have to do without my California rolls and double espressos for too long, I go mad.’
She cocked her head to one side, much like Tara had done earlier but without the condescension. ‘OK, so you’d have to do without some creature comforts for a few weeks. Wouldn’t it be worth it to finally meet Derek and find out all about him? You said it yourself: you feel like your whole life up till last night has been a lie. If you go to Luna Bay and spend some time with him, you might find that things start to make a bit more sense. Did you never feel like something was different before last night?’
I shook my head, the salty tang of tears stinging the back of my throat. ‘Nope, never. I think if I had, this would’ve been a bit easier to deal with. I would’ve thought “so that’s why I’ve always felt a bit out of place” and felt, I dunno, relieved or something. But I don’t because I never for a second suspected that my dad wasn’t my dad. He was… he is… in every sense of the word apart from stupid, sodding DNA. It must’ve torn him apart to bring up another man’s kid, but he never showed it.’
Frankie reached over and put a hand over mine. ‘See this right here? This is why you should go to Luna Bay. If you don’t, you’ll drive yourself mad trying to fill in the gaps and end up upsetting yourself. What do you reckon? Think you could stand missing a few art exhibitions and sushi lunches to find out more about this guy?’
I paused for a moment to think, taking another California roll as I mulled things over. ‘You know what? You’re absolutely right!’
Chapter 4 (#ulink_7b558bdd-d697-508c-9ee9-3a9c32d60753)
Operation Find Derek came together surprisingly quickly. It started with me marching into Paul’s office just after lunchtime.
‘I want to talk about booking some leave,’ I said, taking a seat on his rickety visitor’s chair. ‘I… I’ve had a bit of a family crisis, you see, and I was wondering if I could use up all my leave to sort it out.’
I looked up at him as he fiddled with a packet of sherbet, trying to mine the remainder out from the creases in the paper. His face twisted into expressions showing varying degrees of frustration before he gave up and shoved the whole lot in the bin.
‘Sorry, what did you say?’
I gritted my teeth and repeated myself, putting special emphasis on the ‘family emergency’ part.
‘So what do you say? I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, and we aren’t too busy at the moment.’
It felt odd to not use my usual no-nonsense, ball-busting approach. I felt vulnerable and exposed; there was no bravado or bluster to hide behind. I was just a girl sitting in front of her boss, asking for time off to go and chase after her long-lost biological father.
He chewed over it for a moment, umming and ahhing and sucking air in through his teeth.
‘I don’t know, Emily. You’re one of my top development managers and I can’t afford to have you away for too long. What’s this family emergency you need to sort out?’
I felt a furious blush creep into my cheeks. ‘I’d rather not go into specifics, but I’m planning to visit a little village in Yorkshire called Luna Bay for a while.’
The name sparked Paul’s interest and he began to rummage through a large pile of papers on his desk. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and flashed me a triumphant grin.
‘How about you make it a working holiday? We’ve got this little B&B down there we’d like to get our hands on: a place called Sunflower Cottage. Why don’t you book in there, try and talk the old biddy who owns it into selling to us, and you can do whatever you need to do at the same time? It’d put you in a really good position for another promotion. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, she sent Tara packing when she went down there a few months ago.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Paul, I’m asking to take annual leave to sort something out, not take on more work! Why don’t you send someone else to do it. I probably won’t have the time to work while I’m there.’
‘You’ll be in the area anyway,’ said Paul, ‘so it doesn’t make sense to send two people when I can just send one. Think about it; you’ve missed out on one promotion, but land this place and you’ll be in with a shout for another.’
He raised his eyebrows in a come-on-you-know-you-want-to gesture and slid the piece of paper across to me. It was the particulars for Sunflower Cottage. From what I could tell, it was one of those little seaside B&Bs that relied on its flock of regulars rather than passing trade. Attached to the particulars was a blurry picture of the exterior. No pictures of the rooms had been included; I imagined it being stuck in a time warp. It was probably all moth-eaten carpets and net curtains.
‘Why do we want this?’ I asked, screwing my nose up in confusion and giving Paul back the particulars. ‘We aim at the high-end luxury market; this looks more like a retirement home!’
Paul gave a chuckle that sounded vaguely nervous and smiled. ‘Going for the grey pound, I think the boss said! Big market these days, apparently. So what do you say? I’ll grant your annual leave request now if you agree to get this in our portfolio.’
I picked up the particulars again, deep in thought. ‘Go on then. How hard can it be to land one little bed and breakfast?’
Paul gave a faint grin and looked up at me. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’
*
My trip to Luna Bay was booked and confirmed later that day; I’d be leaving the following morning for a month. Trips to potential clients didn’t usually last that long, but Paul had said the owner was ‘particularly resistant’ so I’d probably need more time to close the deal. Frankie put on her usual theatrics and said I couldn’t possibly leave because there would be nobody to help her fix her terrible life choices.
‘I’ll miss ya terribly, honey, I do declare!’ she’d said while pretending to faint like a Southern belle.
She wasn’t the only one who had an opinion on my leaving. My mum had an absolute meltdown when she heard the news and demanded a last-minute ‘inspirational pep talk’. Given that the last one had ended with me finding out I had a long-lost secret dad, I was more than a little worried when she turned up at my flat later that night.
‘Are you sure you want to have that wall painted mauve?’ she asked as she stepped into the living room. ‘This isn’t the biggest flat in the world; you can’t afford to use dark colours in here. Makes the space feel small and cramped.’
‘It’s fine as it is. What’s tonight’s pep talk about, anyway? Let me guess: we’re going to have a Princess Diaries moment where you tell me I’m actually the heir to the throne of a country I haven’t heard of.’ I chucked a blouse into my suitcase and turned to face her, arms folded and a wry smile on my face.
‘Nice,’ she snapped. ‘Very bloody helpful, Emily.’
‘Oh come on, I was kidding!’
She stormed over to the sofa and shot me a dark sideways glance. ‘I know you think this daft crusade to Luna Bay is going to give you all the answers you want, but it won’t. Derek won’t take kindly to you disrupting his perfect life there and you’ll be no further forward. The letters stopped a few years ago, so he couldn’t even be bothered keeping them up any longer. Why don’t you just stay here and get on with things? You’ll be much happier that way.’
I heaved a sigh and joined her on the sofa. ‘I know you want to protect me, but I’m twenty-five. I’d really like to meet him, Mum; I want to find out more about him, not just base my opinion on some letters. He might tell me to sod off and, if he does, that’s fine. But I still want to try. I’m not trying to replace you or Dad; I just want to see what Derek’s like, that’s all. So… Do you have an address or anything for him?’
I could see her face soften, but her lips remained pursed. ‘Like I said, I haven’t heard from him for a few years. He might’ve moved away for all I know, although I doubt it. He loved Luna Bay when I knew him. All I can tell you is that he and his wife, Diane, had a café by the sea called the Moonlight Café. Maybe you could start there.’
She snuck a glance round at me, but her eyes quickly darted away when I looked back at her. That was her subtle way of trying to communicate with me when she was angry.
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ I tried for a smile, but it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘I mean it, by the way; nobody will ever replace you and Dad. Not now, not ever, and especially not my long-lost biological dad. God, it sounds like a bad soap-opera plot when I say it like that!’
Mum got up and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to convince you not to go?’
I shook my head. ‘Afraid not. Plus, it’s a working holiday now as well; Paul had the idea to get me to close a deal on a B&B while I’m there. Some place called Sunflower Cottage.’
A wistful smile crossed her face. ‘Oh yeah, I remember Sunflower Cottage. It was a gorgeous little place, right by the sea…’ She drifted off for a moment, lost in some dreamy reverie. ‘Anyway, be safe while you’re there and don’t run off with any surfer boys! And phone me when you’re there! Oh, and try to wear something a bit more flattering, darling.’
She gave me a quick kiss, mumbled some excuses and headed for the door. As I went back to my packing, I thought about the task that lay in front of me. I had to close a deal on a seaside B&B with a ‘particularly resistant’ owner, find out about my biological dad and not run off with any surfers in the process.
No pressure then.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_2ddb2967-b803-5ee7-ba3b-26e6805f0935)
They say bad things come in threes.
During my first few minutes in Luna Bay, I discovered just how true this was. First of all, my little car, Cilla the Clio, finally decided she’d had enough on the narrow country road leading to the village. I had to park by the side of the road as best I could, haul my suitcases out of the boot and walk the rest of the way on foot. Not an easy task when you’re wearing a pair of four-inch heels that keep getting stuck in the churned-up mud.
‘Fuck!’ I felt my heel sink into the mud for what felt like the millionth time and tried to yank it free.
My shoe dislodged, but I’d used too much force to free myself and ended up toppling over onto my front, sending my suitcase flying. I spat dirt out of my mouth and let out a loud, piercing scream that would’ve put banshees to shame. I hauled myself to my feet and stared down at my ruined suit. It was caked in dirt and the trousers were torn, revealing a bleeding cut on my knee. I fished my phone out of my handbag to call a taxi.
No service. Lovely.
‘Well, that’s just fucking perfect,’ I said to my silent surroundings. ‘Well done, Emily; this is what not listening to your mum gets you.’
I carried on walking until a bunch of whitewashed buildings came into view. At least I hadn’t managed to get myself lost. As I dragged my suitcase along the bumpy, uneven pavement, I’d never felt so far away from Glasgow. All the elements that made up my life there felt like they were slowly slipping away: the bittersweet tang of freshly brewed Americano from my favourite coffee place, the trips to A Play, A Pie and A Pint at Oran Mor with Frankie, the vibrant nightlife I loved to be a part of… Now I was stuck in the arse-end of nowhere because one little revelation had turned my world upside down.
I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and brooding over what I was missing that I didn’t see someone come out of a nearby pub, walking straight across my path. I looked up just in time to clock the terrified expression on his face as we collided, spilling freezing cold liquid over the both of us.
‘Are you blind or something?!’
‘Me?! You were the one who came out of nowhere!’
The figure straightened himself up to his full height and I found myself looking at what my granny would call a ‘torn-faced disaster’. There was a sour, surly expression on his face and his thick, dark eyebrows were furrowed. He wasn’t happy at all. Not surprising, considering he was covered in beer.
‘Do you always crash into complete strangers wherever you go?’ he asked, casting me a reproachful glare.
‘Only the ones who don’t look where they’re going and come barrelling out of nowhere.’ I arched my eyebrows and folded my arms, trying to appear cool and in control while looking like warmed-up roadkill.
‘I’m looking for my dog, if you must know. We were sitting outside on the back terrace, then she heard a loud noise and ran off. You haven’t seen her, have you? She’s a little white Westie and goes by the name of Dixie.’
I shrugged. ‘Sorry, I haven’t.’
‘Don’t suppose you could help me look for her? She can be a nightmare to get back on the lead. Usually thinks you’re playing a game or something.’
I saw his mouth twitch into something like a smile, but it was quickly replaced by the frown he’d been sporting for the entire conversation.
‘I’m actually running late for an appointment, if you can believe that,’ I replied, sweeping some honey-blonde wisps out of my face and gesturing to my torn and dirty clothes. ‘Sorry. I hope you catch her, though.’
The man rolled his eyes, grunted something that sounded like a thank you, then stalked off to find his dog. He threw a look at me from over his shoulder that I felt pretty sure wasn’t friendly.
I continued walking through the centre of the village, my ridiculously expensive high heels pinching my feet every time I moved. I watched him for a second as his great, hulking figure shrunk away into the distance. If this was what Luna Bay locals were like, I was in for a pretty bumpy ride.
‘As if I’ve got time to go looking for a dog!’ I huffed to no one in particular. ‘I’m a business developer, not Ace Ventura!’
*
Sunflower Cottage was easily recognisable. Painted in a bright yellow with a healthy crop of its namesake growing in the front garden, it stood proudly above Luna Bay on a hill overlooking the spectacular beach. Even before I reached it, I knew I’d like it there. It seemed to rain down happy vibes on the village with its sunny exterior and looked like a wonderful place to be.
It was just a shame I was here to change all that.
I hobbled up the driveway, dragging my suitcase across the block-work paving, and stood outside, appraising the building in front of me. It was practically crumbling to the ground by the looks of things, but there was no denying it had a quirky charm. Plus, it was in a great location, ideal for tourists. Yes, it could be a real money-spinner with just a few changes and repairs. I tried to heave my suitcase closer to me and felt the weight drag along the ground. My mind turned to the collection of letters nestled at the bottom and the secret contained within them. Finding out I’d essentially been living a lie my whole life had left me feeling oddly rudderless. I’d always been sure of my place in the world: I was Emily Reed, daughter of Pamela and Simon Reed, sushi enthusiast and business development manager extraordinaire. Now I wasn’t sure what my place in the world was. Hopefully, I’d find out while I was in Luna Bay. From where I was standing, I could see a building on the corner of the next street: the Moonlight Café, according to its large silver sign. My stomach lurched. That was Derek and Diane’s place. My long-lost dad was just a few feet away, oblivious to the fact I was here…
Time to go in. Time to stop thinking. I took a deep breath and hauled my suitcase over the rest of the driveway, the wheel snagging on a loose paving block. I got it free without too much trouble. For someone described by my friends as a ‘short-arse’, I was stronger than I looked.
‘Need a hand with those, dear?’
A voice behind me made me jump and I turned to see a stout little woman standing in front of me. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright and keen. The smile on her face vanished when she saw my dishevelled appearance and she rushed over to me.
‘Dearie me, darling, what happened to you?! Have you been in an accident?!’ She studied me with a worried expression, like I was a stray kitten she’d found at the side of the road.
‘You must be Rose,’ I said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Emily Reed, a business developer from Walter Marshall Hotels.’
Rose’s bright smile shrunk a little and she pursed her lips. ‘Ah yes, I’ve been expecting you. Let me help you with your bags. I’ll get you a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake then phone a garage about your car.’
Her voice was laced with sadness and, before I could say anything, she hoisted up my suitcase and began dragging it inside. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who was stronger than I looked. I followed her inside.
As soon as I stepped over the threshold, the full force of Sunflower House hit me. The building outside might’ve looked like it was ready for demolition, but the inside was a completely different story. The lobby was painted a pale lemon and the beechwood floors looked like they’d been newly sanded. Light spilled in from three round windows and a large wooden staircase stood proudly at the centre. The lounge lay just off the lobby and straight ahead was a quintessential country kitchen, where I could smell freshly baked bread. Little homely touches – photographs, paintings and the like – adorned the walls, while little shelves held ornaments and other assorted knick-knacks. This wasn’t just another faceless guesthouse; this was on a whole different level.
‘Wow,’ I breathed, ‘this is beautiful.’
‘Thank you, dear.’ Rose placed my luggage at the foot of the stairs then came over to join me, her white-blonde curls bobbing round her like a halo and her mouth set into a weak smile. ‘Anyway, where are my manners? I’d better introduce myself properly. Rose White, lovely to meet you.’
She stuck a hand out and I shook it. One look at her told me she not only knew exactly why I was here, but that she wasn’t going to put up a fight. There wasn’t anger or resistance in her eyes; there was only sadness, regret and a hint of relief.
‘You’re younger than I expected you to be,’ she said, piercing the silence between us.
‘Youngest business development manager in the firm,’ I said, not sure why I thought this was a good time to bring that up. I cleared my throat. ‘You’ve got a gorgeous B&B here.’
Rose cast a dreamy eye round the lobby. ‘This place is beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve run it for the last thirty-five years and loved every minute of it. It needs a bit of TLC here and there, but it’s my favourite place to be in the world. Now, let’s get you settled in.’
I gave a soft chuckle. ‘I wish all potential clients were as welcoming as you! Sometimes it’s their family’s idea to sell, rather than their own. When that happens, they make it clear I’m not wanted and that they don’t want to give up the business they’ve worked so hard to build.’
Rose shook her head as she retrieved a key from a hook behind the little reception desk. ‘Not me, flower; I think I’m ready to hand over the reins to someone else now. I’m getting too old to run this place by myself; I’ve been doing it for thirty-five years and I need a rest! Only problem is, when it comes to the crunch, I can’t seem to sign on the dotted line. Not to mention they sent an incompetent fool last time; she was soon given her marching orders! I think I just need a little more time to think about things before I give it up altogether. Now you’re here to explain all the benefits and give me all the information I need, that should be a bit easier. Anyway, I’ll get you your room key so you can freshen up, we’ll have some tea and cake, and then we’ll get your car sorted. There’s a fantastic local mechanic round here; he’ll be able to fix it easily, I’m sure.’
I felt my shoulders relax and even stopped thinking about the pain in my knee. Rose had a way of making someone feel calm and at home, no matter what trouble they’d been through. Just then, the back door opened and a familiar voice drifted into the lobby. It was the man who’d crashed into me outside the pub.
‘Hey, Rose, sorry I was a bit longer than I thought I’d be. Dixie ran away from the pub and decided to go for a run in the fields! Fancy a—’
His voice cut off when he saw me. He cut quite an amusing figure; his russet-brown hair was sticking up in odd directions, mud was streaked across his face and clothes and his little white dog was tucked under his arm, also caked in dirt.
‘Wow, this is a small world. Was this the appointment you had to get to, checking into a guesthouse?’ There was a note of amusement in his voice that didn’t quite reach his face, which still looked as surly as ever.
‘Have you two met?’ Rose asked, her nose wrinkled with confusion. She looked from me to the mud-caked man and back again, waiting for one of us to offer an explanation.
‘Kind of.’ He gave an awkward grunt as he tried to keep hold of the squirming dog, who was probably trying to escape the imminent bath time. ‘I asked her to help me look for Dixie, but apparently she was too busy.’
Another glare was tossed my way. What was this guy’s problem?
‘And he came barrelling out of the pub without looking where he was going and crashed into me. It was a… unique way to welcome me to the village, I’ll give you that.’ I gave him my sweetest smile. Needless to say, it wasn’t returned.
‘Well, charming as this has been, I need to go and give Dixie a bath.’
He moved towards the staircase but Rose stepped in front of him, her arms folded across her broad chest. ‘Noah William Hartley, I will not have you being so rude to people and forgetting your manners! Now, introduce yourself properly to our new guest.’
I saw a blush creep into Noah’s cheeks; from the looks of things, he was used to being chastised. He sighed loudly and flashed a quick smile in my direction.
‘Noah Hartley,’ he said, sticking a hand out. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
I was surprised to hear that it didn’t sound forced or sarcastic. He’d probably have got a clip round the ear from Rose if it had.
‘Emily Reed,’ I replied. ‘I’m from Walter Marshall Hotels.’
All at once, the atmosphere darkened and Noah quickly snatched his hand back before I could shake it. His brows knitted together and he glared at me.
‘So, you’re here to take Rose’s place away from her, are you? Well, you can get in your car and go back to wherever you came from because Sunflower Cottage isn’t for sale!’
Rose’s jaw dropped and she shot him a look that could probably have turned the average person to stone. For such a kindly woman, I guessed she could be fierce when the situation demanded it.
‘Her car actually broke down by the side of the road,’ she said, her icy voice jarring with the house’s warm and loving atmosphere. ‘So, if you’d like her to leave, I suggest you get it towed to the garage. Why don’t you get on with that after you’ve given Dixie a bath?’
Judging by the look on her face, Noah would have been a fool not to do as she said. Although she’d phrased it as a question, it was evident he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter.
‘Oh, you’re the local mechanic then,’ I said, raising my eyebrows in surprise. ‘You don’t look like one!’
He rounded on me, his face still set in the same surly expression. ‘Oh yeah? What do I look like then?’
I badly wanted to reply ‘a torn-faced disaster’ but knew that wasn’t a wise idea. He’d probably cut my brake cables or something if I did.
Noah looked like he was about to say something else, but luckily Rose beat him to it. ‘Go on then, Noah, Dixie’s filthy!’
His mouth opened and closed a few times, as though he had so much he wanted to say that his brain didn’t know where to begin. Eventually, he settled for a grunt of frustration and stormed off upstairs.
‘Sorry about him.’ Rose craned her neck to make sure he was out of earshot before she spoke. ‘He’s a lovely lad really, just forgets himself sometimes. He loves this place, bless him. It’s been the closest thing to home for him since…’
She trailed off and shook her head, as though trying to dislodge some unwanted thoughts. ‘Anyway, you’ll be in room seven. Let me show you up! It’s just up these stairs. Don’t worry about your suitcase; I’ll get Noah to bring it up before he goes to get your car.’
I followed her up the wooden staircase to a door with a large gold number seven attached to it.
‘This will be your room. The sheets will be changed every day and breakfast is served from seven until nine-thirty.’ Her voice carried the same warmth that permeated the entire B&B. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll be down in the kitchen. There’s some fresh bread and cookies if you’d like some.’
‘Thanks, Rose, I won’t be long,’ I replied.
So, I thought, this is what country living’s like. So far, I’d had a car break down on me, fallen down in the mud, been splashed with beer, and argued with the town arsehole.
One thing was for sure: I was in for one hell of a ride in Luna Bay.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_e6e86400-1eb1-518a-8f69-9b5f4790187c)
It’s pretty safe to say I wasn’t prepared for what my room would look like. When I opened the door, I let out a little gasp. I’d imagined a tired and dated room full of frills and floral patterns. What I had was a beautiful New England beach house-themed room, with white wooden floors and pale blue walls. The duvet and curtains had blue and white stripes on them and the bed looked sumptuous and comfortable. The furniture followed the theme too: a white chest of drawers stood on the far wall and a wicker chair sat next to a window seat lined with sky-blue cushions. This definitely wasn’t the fixer-upper I’d imagined.
I could see why Walter Marshall Hotels wanted to snap this place up. It was in an ideal location, had beautiful interiors, and there were only minor repairs to be made, by the look of things. Sunflower Cottage would definitely be an asset to our already bulging portfolio, if we could get our hands on it. There was a certain magic to the place too, something I hadn’t seen anywhere else.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and found Noah standing on the other side, my suitcase in one hand and a newly clean Dixie nestled in the crook of his other arm. Her little face lit up as soon as she saw me and I stroked her soaking wet fur as best I could.
‘Hello you!’ I cooed. I risked a glance at her owner, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. ‘You know, I’m not usually—’
‘Here’s your suitcase,’ he grunted, abruptly cutting me off. ‘Where did you say your car was?’
‘It’s on the little country lane that leads into the village. I’ve tried to park it so it doesn’t block any other cars.’
He nodded. ‘OK, well, I’ll get it towed to the garage and take a look at it as soon as I can. We’re booked solid, but I’ll try and fit you in.’
I bristled at him acting like he was doing me a huge favour when he clearly didn’t want to. ‘Don’t inconvenience yourself for me! I’ll call another garage if that makes things easier for you.’
He flashed me something that I guessed was supposed to be a smile. ‘It’s no skin off my nose. The sooner your car’s fixed, the sooner you can leave.’
He retreated down to the lobby before I could answer, taking his ridiculously cute dog with him and leaving me fuming. I’d never met anyone so infuriating in my whole life. All I could hope was that he wasn’t a regular fixture at Sunflower Cottage; I might end up on a murder charge otherwise.
*
My second day in Luna Bay started much the same as my first: I had a run-in with Noah. No beer was spilled over anyone, though I was sorely tempted.
I went downstairs after an uneasy sleep to find him in the kitchen, helping Rose prepare breakfast for the other guests. He was even more dishevelled than usual, with stubble lining his chin and his hair sticking up in every possible direction. His checked shirt was buttoned at a random angle and I could see a stain on his dark-brown T-shirt. It was such a contrast to my own appearance; I was wearing my favourite grey trouser suit and my hair was scraped up into a sleek, high bun. Just because I was at the seaside didn’t mean I couldn’t look professional, after all.
‘Morning,’ I said, running a hand over my hair and sitting down at the table. The smell of cooking made me feel funny, but I tried not to show it. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘Hello, dear. Did you sleep well last night?’ Rose put some sausages and bacon onto a plate then turned to look at me.
‘Yeah, it was great!’ I knew I was lying, but it was necessary in this situation. I didn’t want to explain that, while the bed had been lovely, I’d been awake most of the night worrying about being in the same village as my long-lost biological father. To avoid anything accidentally slipping out, I turned to my phone and the stack of unread emails that had to be dealt with. Business was the solution to every life problem, after all. If I was working towards my goals, everything would be OK.
Or it would be if there were any Wi-Fi.
‘Is there a Wi-Fi hotspot anywhere round here?’ I asked, trying not to let my frustration seep into my tone. ‘I need to get work done while I’m here.’
Rose shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not, dear. The signal’s always been a bit patchy round these parts, so we just don’t bother with it in the B&B. You’ve got broadband at your place, haven’t you, Noah?’
Some colour drained away from his face. ‘Yeah, but she needs to be here, doesn’t she? She won’t want to schlep up to my cottage to use the internet.’
‘Actually, that sounds ideal,’ I replied. ‘If you don’t mind, that is? She can work anywhere, after all.’
He didn’t say anything and went back to tending the sizzling pans in front of him.
‘It’s too early to be working anyway,’ Rose said. ‘You haven’t even had breakfast yet; what do you fancy? Noah does a lovely full English.’
‘Do you have any kale or avocado? A green smoothie would be amazing.’
They both turned to look at me, blank expressions on their faces like I’d spoken in fluent Swahili.
‘Huh,’ said Noah, ‘I didn’t think anybody actually drank those! Looks like chemical waste, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t.’ I kept my voice low, but judging by the look he shot me, not low enough.
‘Oh, I’m afraid I don’t have either of those things.’ Rose wrung her hands with worry. ‘I… is there anything else I can get you?’
I shook my head and got up from the table. ‘Nah, I don’t really do breakfast. Thanks, anyway. I’d better get going. I’ve got loads of work to do today.’
Rose looked utterly crestfallen and I felt a stab of remorse in my chest. ‘OK, if you’re sure. I’ll get some in for you for breakfast tomorrow. Noah, watch this pan while I go and see if we’ve got any maple syrup for that Canadian couple in room two.’
I smiled. ‘That’d be great, thanks!’
As I left, Noah’s voice piped up. ‘Next she’ll be asking for bloody quinoa salad on a bed of pearl barley or something.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with liking healthy food, you know. You are what you eat and all that jazz,’ I replied.
He left the pan of bacon he was tending to and came over to me. ‘So, you’re some unidentifiable substance we’ve never heard of and don’t want in our kitchen?’
Oh great, I thought, the verbal sparring was starting again. There was no way I was letting him win, though.
‘And you’re something that might be popular but still liable to cause heart attacks?’
‘I’ll miss this back-and-forth when you go back home,’ he shot back. ‘When is that exactly?’
‘Not soon enough for my liking!’
Our latest run-in was interrupted by Rose gleefully announcing she’d found the maple syrup and the Canadian couple bursting into the kitchen, full of the joys of summer.
‘Till next time,’ I said, throwing him a sly smile over my shoulder.
*
As my stomach gurgled and lurched thanks to no green smoothie, I found a shred of phone signal to phone Paul with an update on Sunflower Cottage. You had to watch with Paul. He had a reputation for being slippery and conveniently forgetting things. I also needed a distraction to stop me thinking about the fact my biological dad was just a few feet away, living his life, with no clue I was about to show up on his doorstep.
‘It’s practically in the bag,’ I said after my belly groaned again. ‘Owner’s really keen to sell; she just needs a bit more time to think it over. Also, she called the lovely Tara an incompetent fool. Great decision giving her that promotion!’
I could almost hear the cogs of Paul’s oily little mind turning as he tried to formulate a smooth and winning response. ‘Just think of when you’ve got business development executive after your name on your business card and running your own team. Tara might’ve had an… unfair advantage, shall we say, but you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you earned it.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah that’s a real comfort right now; I’m two hundred miles away from home, there are no decent coffee shops or sushi bars for miles and I’m standing on a bloody chair to get mobile phone reception. Oh, and the town arsehole already hates me!’
‘You’ll win him round; you always do.’ Paul’s voice was silky and soothing. He’d used the same tone with countless disgruntled clients over the years and I could see why it worked. ‘And even if you don’t, who cares? It’s a tiny little village in the middle of nowhere that you’ll never have to visit again.’
I sighed as I tried to keep my balance on the chair. ‘You’re right. It’s only a month and then I’ll never have to see anyone here ever again. Doesn’t sound so bad when you put it like that.’
‘That’s the spirit! Just think of coming back to civilisation and that should get you through. Let me know when you’ve definitely got Sunflower Cottage in the bag. It’s a big one, Emily, and I know you can do it. If anyone can get her to sign on the dotted line, it’s you.’
*
I was jiggling the laptop around, trying to find even a wisp of a Wi-Fi connection, when Rose came in, proffering tea and scones.
‘I felt so awful I didn’t have the ingredients to make your smoothie earlier, so I thought you might like these.’
‘Oh thanks, that’s lovely!’ I put my laptop aside and took the cup and plate from her.
I expected her to leave, but she sat herself down on the edge of the bed. The frame groaned a little under her weight.
‘You seem like a busy young woman.’ She gestured to the laptop with an uncertain smile. ‘All these gadgets you have with you! I wouldn’t know where to begin with them.’
‘They’re all part of my job.’ I sipped my tea and took a bite of my scone. ‘Don’t know where I’d be without them!’
‘Noah’s always fiddling with that tablet computer of his… what’s it called, an iPad? I don’t bother with them; Sunflower Cottage doesn’t even have one of those website thingymabobs. I think sometimes people need to put the technology down and have a look at their surroundings. Like now, for instance: you’re in one of the most beautiful parts of Yorkshire and you’re stuck inside working! Still, I suppose this place is a million miles away from what you’re used to, isn’t it? Which part of Scotland are you from?’
I opened my mouth to respond, feeling a little awkward about answering a question about myself. The answer was Glasgow, but was it? I’d already found out my dad was a Yorkshireman called Derek; maybe my mum was really a Highland princess like Merida from Brave?
I shook my head to displace the thoughts. ‘I… I’m from Glasgow.’
Rose smiled. ‘I visited Glasgow once; it was years ago now. It was so busy and there was so much going on! It seemed like such a lively place. Is it still the same?’
‘It’s the best city in the world,’ I replied. ‘I can’t imagine living anywhere else.’
I picked up the laptop to see if I could pick up any more Wi-Fi. My hopes were dashed when I couldn’t. ‘Looks like I won’t be getting much work done today then!’
Rose chuckled. ‘People don’t come to Luna Bay to be busy; they come here so they won’t be busy. You should put that laptop of yours down for a little while and have a look round the village. It’s a beautiful place; you’ll love it here.’
I closed the laptop lid and sighed in defeat. ‘I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a million things to do. Ever since I started at Walter Marshall, it’s been non-stop; I haven’t had time to catch my breath! I wouldn’t have it any other way, though; I love being busy.’
Rose walked over to the door, but didn’t immediately leave. ‘You know, Luna Bay has a habit of casting its spell on you. Sometimes you end up finding something you didn’t even know you were looking for.’
With an enigmatic smile, she was gone.
*
After spending most of the morning swearing at my laptop, salvation came in the form of a phone call from Frankie. She asked if I’d met any gorgeous surfers yet and if so could I bring one back for her. She also begged me to come back because she claimed her soul wasn’t complete unless I was in the G postcode area.
‘Well, I’m sorry your soul’s incomplete right now, but I promise I’ll be back soon. With any luck I should have this wrapped up in about a week tops. The owner’s lovely; it’s just her nephew, or whoever he is, trying to put a spanner in the works.’
‘Is he hot?’ Frankie asked in true Frankie Moretti style. ‘Maybe he could put a spanner in my works…’
I rolled my eyes and did my best to stifle a chuckle. ‘Can you drag your mind out of the gutter for five minutes?! He’s…’
I trailed off as I realised I wasn’t sure how to answer her question. I brought up his face in my mind and tried to come to a conclusion.
‘He’s OK, I suppose. Doesn’t look like a foot, but he’s not my type. You’d like him, though: he’s mean, moody and got a massive attitude problem.’
Frankie giggled. ‘Now you’re talking! Bring him up the road with you; tie him up and throw him in the boot of your car if you have to! I’m making wedding plans already. Any more scandal, news or gossip before I go back to work?’
‘Oh, you know,’ I said in a mock-casual voice, ‘my long-lost dad’s just a few feet away from where I’m staying and my life feels like it’s slowly turning to shit. The usual.’
‘Are you going to see him soon?’ she asked. ‘What will you say to him? Hi, Dad. Sorry I haven’t visited for twenty-five years but I didn’t know you existed until a few days ago?’
A cold sweat washed over me as the prospect of coming face to face with him crossed my mind. ‘I’ve got no idea what I’m going to say to him… Oh God, Frankie, I really didn’t think this through, did I? I’m going to fuck this guy’s life up by turning up on his doorstep; you can’t just take that sort of thing back, can you? I should never have come here; I’m going to tell Paul I’m coming home and to hell with the promotion!’
As panic gripped me, I went to cut the call until Frankie’s no-nonsense voice stopped me in my tracks.
‘Emily Reed, don’t you dare do anything of the kind! If you come back to Glasgow without having seen your dad or closed the deal for Sunflower Cottage, then I’ll never speak to you again. You deserve this promotion; everyone knows that. I know Paul’s taking the piss with it, but he knows he should never have promoted Tara. So stay right where you are and land this deal, missy. Plus, you need to bring this mean and moody guy back for me.’
That was all the incentive I needed. Frankie had a way of making the impossible seem like a walk in the park.
*
Thanks to a combination of no Wi-Fi and my long-lost dad preying on my mind, I decided to venture out into Luna Bay for a while. I found myself sitting in the Purple Partridge, the pub I’d bumped into Noah outside of. A pretty little place that looked out onto the beach, it was the perfect hideaway to escape my problems in. I sat huddled in my little booth near the back, determined not to let the world in. Instead, it passed by around me as the pub’s various patrons made trips to the bar, gossiped in corners and shared memories with their friends. I found myself tapping my foot and drumming my fingers on the table, frustrated not to have something to keep my mind occupied.
How had things unravelled so quickly? It was bad enough that my dad wasn’t my dad, but now I was in the same village as the man who was! It was like something from daytime TV. This was far more than your traditional curveball; it felt like someone, somewhere, was having a great laugh at my expense. The words in the letter played in my head like a sickening loop I couldn’t control: it still hurts that Emily has to miss out on knowing her real father. I wanted so badly for it to be a bad dream; to wake up and realise that the life I loved so much was still intact. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I was stuck with the nightmare currently unfolding in front of me.
‘Are you OK, love?’ a voice above me asked.
I looked up and saw a kind-looking, middle-aged lady standing in front of me. Her sandy-blonde curls and soft-brown eyes gave her the look of somebody’s favourite aunt and her smile was warm and friendly.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I replied, wiping my eyes. ‘Just… just a touch of hay fever, that’s all.’
‘I’ve heard that one before. Here, take this.’ The woman sat down next to me and pulled out a tissue from her bag, handing it to me so I could dry my tears.
‘Thanks. I don’t usually cry like this; it’s just been a really weird day.’
She chuckled and shook her head. ‘I’ve had a fair few of those myself recently. One thing I’ve learnt, though; it all comes out in the wash. I’m Diane, by the way.’
Diane. Surely that couldn’t be Derek’s wife, the one Mum had mentioned and who had been peppered throughout his letters? Just as my imagination began to run away with me, cool logic took over and reminded me not to jump to conclusions. It was probably just a coincidence; Diane was quite a common name, after all, and it might not be her.
‘Nice to meet you, Diane, I’m Emily.’ I stuck out a hand and she shook it.
‘Lovely to meet you, Emily; you look like you could do with a cup of tea and a massive slice of cake. My café’s not far from here if you fancy popping in?’
That sealed it. Diane might be a common name, but I was willing to bet there weren’t two Dianes in Luna Bay who both owned cafes. I felt goosebumps creep over my skin, like I was in the presence of a ghost. Here I was, carrying this huge secret that would rock her world, and she had no idea.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve really got to get on. Got lots to get done while I’m here. Maybe some other time, though?’
Diane nodded and looked a little sad as I got up to leave. ‘No problem, you’re welcome any time. It’s the Moonlight Café, just on the corner of the next street. You can’t miss it. There’s some free cake and tea with your name on it!’
I smiled and said goodbye to her before leaving the pub. The sun was shining brightly over my beautiful surroundings, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it. The only thing I wanted to do was regain my focus, recover from the temporary blip on my radar and close the sale of Sunflower Cottage. That was what I was here to do.
Chapter 7 (#ulink_ef8195a1-ef86-518a-aa8e-efe7f0fcae18)
A buzz of chatter greeted me when I got back to the guesthouse, as did the smell of baking. I followed it to the kitchen and found Noah and Rose sitting at the table as Dixie chased a green tennis ball around the room. The conversation came to an abrupt halt and they each turned to look at me. Dixie immediately rolled out the welcome wagon and brought me her ball, so I threw it down the lobby for her.
‘Hello, dear!’ Rose’s voice was as bright and sunny as the day outside. ‘Nice to see you getting out and about! There’s food going if you fancy any?’
I could see Noah staring in my direction, his facial expression unreadable. It was as though he was searching for some tiny imperfection on my face; his brow was crumpled and his eyes slightly narrowed. I squirmed; I didn’t like being under the spotlight.
‘Sure,’ I replied, taking a seat at the table. ‘I’d love some. Maybe we could talk business too?’
Noah took that as his cue to leave, calling to Dixie to come with him. He shot me a dark look before he left the room. Rose didn’t seem to mind and cut us some cake, sticking the slices on china plates and joining me back at the table. I got ready to put my business head on and banish that day’s bombshell from my mind. Business was what I knew, what I was comfortable with. It would help me forget.
Rose, however, had other ideas.
‘Don’t mind him,’ she said, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘He’s a lovely boy really, just forgets himself sometimes. As you’ll probably have gathered, he’s none too keen about me selling this place. Can’t say I blame him really; Sunflower Cottage has been like home for him since… Well, it means a lot to him, let’s just say.’
Her eyes quickly darted to her tea, as though she knew she’d almost said too much. ‘H… he was telling me your car will be up and running again soon; something to do with the battery or something…’
I stared at the door he’d just walked out of, expecting him to come storming back in at any moment. ‘Does he help you run this place?’
‘When he’s not busy at the garage, yes,’ said Rose. ‘He wants to be here full-time; would spend every waking minute here if he could! But I told him: I said I wanted him out there living his life instead of being stuck here with me. The silly sod gave up his job last year after I had a fall and moved down here! He had his own mechanics business in Leeds and he sold it to come and live in Luna Bay. Told me he’d only be staying a few weeks until I got back on my feet then casually announced he’d bought a cottage nearby! I nearly fainted with shock.’
Noah’s devotion to Rose and Sunflower Cottage came as something of a pleasant surprise and I found myself smiling.
‘Wow, so he just packed up his life and came down here? That’s brave,’ I remarked, trying not to let my surprise seep into my voice.
‘He’s a brave person.’ Rose chose not to elaborate and took a forkful of lemon drizzle cake. ‘Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?’
*
I spent the next hour eating my body weight in cake, drinking enough tea to fill the North Sea and explaining the features and benefits of Walter Marshall Hotels to Rose again. I laid her fears to rest and told her we wouldn’t be bulldozing Sunflower Cottage and replacing it with some anonymous glass-and-steel skyscraper, even showing her a PowerPoint presentation on my laptop.
‘This place has so much character,’ I’d said, gesturing around at the gorgeous country kitchen. ‘Why would we want to lose that?’
By the time I left to go back to my room, I felt more confident about closing the deal than ever. Rose had made some very encouraging noises during our discussion and, with any luck, I’d be back in Glasgow living my old life in no time at all.
Or would I?
Since I’d heard my mum’s revelation about Derek, I wasn’t sure if living my old life was still an option. I’d been living the life of Pamela and Simon Reed’s daughter, but I wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe my old life had to go like my old identity had.
A noise from under the bed made my thoughts skid to a halt. It sounded like there was something rolling along the floor. I cocked my head to the side, trying to make out what the noise was and who was making it. An excited woof gave me my answer: Dixie was obviously under the bed. I crouched down and saw her pawing at her tennis ball, trying to get it out from the space it was now stuck in.
‘Hello, you!’ I chuckled and crawled under the bed to help her. ‘Is your toy stuck? Here, I’ll get it for you.’
Dixie leapt around with excitement as I reached my hand in to free the ball. It was wedged between a couple of old-fashioned storage boxes.
‘I hope she’s not bothering you.’ Noah’s voice startled me and made me bump my head on the bedframe.
‘Ow! No, she’s fine, don’t worry. Her tennis ball got stuck and I was just getting it for her.’ I got to my feet and rubbed the sore spot on my head. ‘See, no harm done!’
I threw the ball onto the landing for her and she went chasing after it, leaving Noah and I standing in a very awkward silence.
‘Listen, I know I haven’t exactly been friendly to you since you got here and not just because you ran into me and spilled my beer. I just really don’t want Sunflower Cottage becoming part of some faceless hotel chain that’ll rip the heart and soul out of it. Rose has worked hard for this place and I don’t want to see it pulled from under her.’
I frowned and folded my arms. He wasn’t getting to speak to me that way. ‘You said it yourself, though; Rose wants to sell. Nobody’s pulling anything from under her! And you’re right; you haven’t been very friendly! In fact, you’ve been a sour-faced, obnoxious prat since I got here. What’s your problem, anyway? Don’t you want to see Rose happy? She told me she’s ready to hand over the running of this place to someone else. Don’t make me the bad guy just because you’ve got a chip on your shoulder.’
Noah scoffed loudly and shook his head. ‘A chip on my shoulder? You know nothing about this place and you know nothing about me either. Rose doesn’t need some corporate chain coming in and taking over everything; she has me and I know this place better than anyone. We don’t need you here! You know what? The sooner you leave us to get on with our lives, the better!’
He looked down at me, his eyes blazing with anger and his face set in a stony glare. I squared my shoulders and stood my ground; I’d dealt with hostile parties in these deals before and I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me. Plus, after the day I’d had and the discovery I’d made, I was in no mood for his shit. Footsteps on the stairs distracted us for a second.
‘Only me!’ I heard Rose trill as her footsteps retreated down the hall.
‘Well, until the owner tells me I’m not wanted anymore, I’m staying whether you like it or not. Now, you can act like a child and stomp around in a sulk for the next month, or you can try and be a grown-up about it. Your choice.’
We stood mirroring each other’s body language, arms folded and scowls on our faces. Both of us were determined not to back down. Noah’s nostrils flared and I could feel my teeth begin to gnash. I’d never met such a pig-headed, ignorant man in my whole life.
Suddenly, the standoff between us was shattered by a terrified scream followed by an almighty bang. Startled by the noise, we both ran out of the room, with Dixie joining us on the landing in hot pursuit.
Nothing could’ve prepared us for the sight awaiting us. Rose was lying in a lifeless, crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs.
Chapter 8 (#ulink_6088f74f-e986-5dae-bb99-6e4dfdeb5aa0)
The next hour was punctuated by flashing blue lights, sirens and medical jargon. As soon as Rose got to the hospital, she was whisked away to have her injuries assessed and treated. Noah and I sat in silence waiting for news, our feud temporarily on ice. His large frame was hunched forward and he made a little pyramid with his fingers to rest his chin on.
‘God, I hope she’s OK.’ His voice was gruff and thick, like he was trying to keep his emotions below the surface. ‘Why the hell aren’t they telling us anything?!’
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Lynsey James
’the most delightful escape, full of heart and warmth and humour.’ - Becca’s BooksThe perfect summer romance for a sunny afternoon and a picnic in the parkEmily Reed is having a bad day. Her mother has just dropped a devastating bombshell—the dad she’s known and loved for twenty-five years isn’t her biological father!Desperately in need of answers, Emily heads to Luna Bay covering her personal quest up as a work trip to Sunflower Cottage B&B.Setting up the ‘Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club’ should be a great way to meet the locals and maybe even find out who her father is. The only problem is brooding and insanely gorgeous, Noah, who is determined to make Emily’s stay perfectly uncomfortable.Discovering the truth after all these years was never going to be simple, but Emily will stop at nothing to uncover her past… even if her heart is getting in the way!Don’t miss a single book in the Luna Bay series:Book 1 – The Broken Hearts Book ClubBook 2 – The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast ClubBook 3 – The Silver Bell’s Christmas PantomimeWhat reviewers are saying about The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club‘I loved this book and finished it in two days, it is very much unputdownable!’ - Whispering Stories‘an enjoyable summer read’ - The Belgain Reviewer‘The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club is a lovely read, which would be perfect for some light holiday reading.’ - Portobello Book Blog
Emily Reed is having a bad day.
Her mother has just dropped a devastating bombshell – the dad she’s known and loved for twenty-five years isn’t her biological father!
Desperately in need of answers, Emily heads to Luna Bay, covering her personal quest up as a work trip to Sunflower Cottage B&B.
Setting up the ‘Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club’ should be a great way to meet the locals and maybe even find out who her father is. The only problem is brooding and insanely gorgeous Noah, who is determined to make Emily’s stay perfectly uncomfortable.
Discovering the truth after all these years was never going to be simple, but Emily will stop at nothing to uncover her past… even if her heart is getting in the way!
Praise for LYNSEY JAMES (#ulink_62f83c85-bf66-53d4-84ca-80f0ae2b71f7)
‘If you can’t wait for a little more warmth this summer, get reading Just the Way You Are, and you’ll have all the sunshine you need.’ – Lisa Dickenson, author of The Twelve Dates of Christmas, You Had Me at Merlot and Catch Me If You Cannes
‘The Broken Hearts Book Club is perfect for these colder, darker nights – it’s like a big warm comfort blanket in book form!’ – Rather Too Fond of Books
‘I adored this book. From the gorgeous setting of Luna Bay to the highly likable protagonist, The Broken Hearts Book Club was a total treat.’ – Blabbering About Books
‘...I loved that Lynsey made me so invested in the characters – not just Ava, all of them. They all have their quirks and their flaws; they made me laugh, they made me cry and they made me want to scream at my Kindle. That marks the sign of fantastically real characters.’ – Jenny in Neverland on Just the Way You Are
‘Dreamy and delightful!’ – Chicks That Read on Just the Way You Are
‘If you’re a fan of romance or a chick-lit addict... then I urge you to give this book a go. It’s warm, clever, sweet and an absolute delight.’ – Bookaholic Holly on Just the Way You Are
Books by Lynsey James (#ulink_bf56a64e-8bcd-53a5-a9b9-07f6447a9cfa)
Just the Way You Are
The Luna Bay series:
The Broken Hearts Book Club
The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime
The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club
Lynsey James
Copyright (#ulink_ab170372-0a22-576a-9c67-ca9a2ed5e385)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016
Copyright © Lynsey James 2016
Lynsey James asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780008189952
Version date: 2018-07-23
LYNSEY JAMES
I was born in Fife in 1991 and have been telling people how to spell my name ever since. I’m an incurable bookworm who loves nothing more than getting lost in a good story with memorable characters. I started writing when I was really young and credit my lovely grandad – and possibly a bump on the head from a Mr Frosty machine – with my love of telling stories. I used to write my own episodes of Friends and act them out in front of my family (in fact I’m sure I put Ross and Rachel together first!).
A careers adviser at school once told me writing wasn’t a ‘good option’ and, for a few years, I believed her. I tried a little bit of everything, including make-up artistry, teaching and doing admin for a chocolate fountain company. The free chocolate was brilliant. When I left my job a couple of years ago, I started writing full-time while I looked for another one. As soon as I started working on my story, I fell in love and decided to finally pursue my dream. I haven’t looked back since.
When I’m not writing, eating cake or drinking tea, I’m daydreaming about the day Dylan O’Brien finally realises we’re meant to be together. It’ll happen one day…
Acknowledgements (#ulink_bf3b40b3-b7f4-5347-8d3f-5a90583f6c8d)
This book and the ones before it wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing community of writers and bloggers I’m privileged to be a part of. To list all of them would take about a year and fifteen books’ worth of space, so here are a few: Daniel Riding, Beth O’Brien, Erin McEwan, Holly Martin, Laura Lovelock, Silke Auwers, Louise Wykes and Laura Holdsworth. Thanks to everyone for all your support, it means the world to me.
Ann Troup, thank you for teaching me about dodgy toasters and exploding food.
Can’t do a set of acknowledgements without mentioning my wonderful family. Mum, Dad, Kyle and Gran: I love you guys more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. I hope I’ve made you guys proud.
Dixie, I love you so much I’ve made you a character in this book. Even though you frequently made me stop writing to play with you or cuddle you!
Jen, you are the best friend I could ask for. I love you and your princess hair.
Thank you to my amazing editor, Victoria. You really are fantastic. Without you, I wouldn’t be writing these acknowledgements now.
To all the team at HQ Digital, THANK YOU. You’re absolutely amazing and have made my dreams come true. Thank you so, so much.
To Granddad, the world’s best storyteller.
None of this would be possible without you.
Contents
Cover (#ub0883b9f-8cb5-5b7f-9ec4-a9c8a2d2d8fd)
Blurb (#u7a45edb5-9e4c-52c8-b6b1-82bbcec0d3b8)
Praise (#ulink_040cad79-d82c-5fe1-92cc-c8422e564b9e)
Book List (#ulink_230fdddd-66e3-57ab-a069-9de4681d45eb)
Title Page (#u91515739-cead-570d-a7fe-cdc7ae4b2845)
Copyright (#ub8850ef9-7388-53ce-9ba8-e12208f8edf9)
Author Bio (#u33eb79a5-588d-5cc9-8f41-4c98cb84093c)
Acknowledgements (#ulink_bb276741-19bd-5e36-8ea4-3863a48b40e4)
Dedication (#ue59afe9e-9288-537d-aec8-8a77431393e4)
Chapter One (#ulink_e0eaa8a4-5b07-56da-908a-678bd54cc4bf)
Chapter Two (#ulink_2a3d5a71-6b96-5098-8ec2-ae289f885f60)
Chapter Three (#ulink_0d5c1766-dfa2-58f5-8fdd-a3edf928f71b)
Chapter Four (#ulink_fb1f26f1-d417-5022-a29b-5bb5616cc450)
Chapter Five (#ulink_8f09852e-7382-5296-a713-894338098cfa)
Chapter Six (#ulink_ceda5712-48b8-5beb-bf8f-4c7bc20b8ec7)
Chapter Seven (#ulink_b91f4a8f-388f-5a1f-87ee-edaf80774f67)
Chapter Eight (#ulink_6ab7aa97-b707-558b-a15c-526980f97908)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_1bb85c10-ad57-57e1-8de8-9c11458915eb)
It’s coming together. I can feel it.
There was something in his voice, a little nuance that told me I was moments away from success. Excitement began to build within me and I felt a million tiny butterflies release themselves into my tummy. This is it, I thought. This is the big moment. The one I’ve been waiting for.
‘I promise you, Mr Woodward; you won’t regret becoming part of Walter Marshall Hotels. We’re a trusted, reputable brand and, under our name, you can expect to see a significant increase in both visitor numbers and yearly profits. You’ve seen the numbers for yourself; you know it makes sense.’
As Mr Woodward repeated his numerous concerns about becoming part of a ‘faceless corporate machine’, I shifted my chair from side to side and drank the remains of my green smoothie. My face burst into a smile as the combination of kale, spinach, water and avocado hit my taste buds. There was no better way to start the day, in my opinion. I’d never been able to stomach a full breakfast; I preferred something quick to kick-start my busy mornings.
After listening to my prospective client’s worries and gripes, I knew exactly what to say to ease his mind. I’d dealt with a million owners like him; it was almost second nature to me.
‘Don’t think of it as becoming part of a faceless corporate machine,’ I said in soothing tones. ‘Think of it as joining a big, happy family who are ready to welcome you with open arms. You’re worried about your guesthouse losing its charm and I understand that, but I can assure you that won’t happen. While we do like to make some improvements to our establishments, we’ll do everything in partnership with you. Mulberry House will still have its charm and character because that’s the way you have made it. All you’ll be getting from us is the chance to be part of our established, reputable brand. If you join us, you’ll be able to really put Mulberry House on the map. What do you say, Mr Woodward? Are you ready to take the chance?’
There was a little pause and, for a moment, I worried I’d overdone it. By the end, I did sound like an eighties aerobics instructor. I swallowed hard and chewed my thumbnail. Please, please let this happen…
‘OK, Emily, you’ve got yourself a deal! Send me over the contracts and I’ll sign them.’
‘Excellent!’ I had to stop myself from dropping the phone and doing a happy dance. ‘Welcome to Walter Marshall Hotels, Mr Woodward.’
We said our goodbyes and I hung up. A feeling of elation hit me like a thunderbolt and I threw my hands up in the air in celebration. I hadn’t just closed another deal, you see; I’d closed the deal. This was the one that would change everything, or so I hoped.
‘Someone looks happy!’ My best friend, Frankie, perched herself on my desk. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘Just clinched the Mulberry House deal!’ I reached up and high-fived her. ‘Three months it’s taken me to persuade the owner to join and he’s just agreed! I’m sending him over the contracts now.’
‘Nice one!’ Frankie grinned and reached into her bag. ‘This calls for a celebration. How about we go to breakfast at that little café down the road? I could do with a fry-up!’
I shook my head and got out of my seat. My best friend was one of those impossibly skinny people who ate what she liked and never exercised. I’d found myself picking away at a Caesar salad while she wolfed down a cheeseburger and chips, wondering how the hell she managed it, on many occasions.
‘Nah, no thanks; I don’t really like breakfast. We can go for lunch later if you like?’
She shook her head and plonked herself down in my now vacant chair. ‘How can you not like breakfast? It’s the best meal of the day!’
‘Breakfast is just a load of stodgy food that slows you down of a morning. Give me a green smoothie any day.’
The thought of a plate piled high with greasy fried food popped into my mind and I wanted to gag. It was the food equivalent of my worst nightmare. I’d rather do the eating trial from I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here than force down a fry-up.
‘You absolute freak. Remind me again why we’re best friends?’ Frankie stuck her tongue out at me.
‘Because I have way too many incriminating photos of you after one cocktail too many,’ I shot back. ‘Anyway, I’ve barely got time to think this week, let alone have breakfast. I’ve got clients to wine and dine, after all. I’m taking one to that Jack Vettriano exhibition at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and going to one of those open-air concerts on Glasgow Green with another.’
‘You’re such a bloody culture vulture, aren’t you? Give me a night in The Garage and a greasy kebab any day of the week. Cities were made for people like you,’ Frankie replied with a smile.
‘What can I say, I’m a city slicker! Anyway, I’d better go and tell Paul that Mulberry House is in the bag. Hopefully now the promotion will be too.’
Frankie gave me a thumbs-up. ‘Good luck!’
As I strode towards my boss’s office, I couldn’t help but feel excited. This was the start of something amazing. The next phase of my life was about to begin and I couldn’t wait.
*
Or not.
As I shared my amazing news, Paul sat back in his chair and winced like he was in a lot of pain. There was a lot of sucking in through his teeth, head tilts and grimaces.
‘The thing is, Emily…’ He paused and stared around the room, trying to decide what the next words out of his mouth would be. ‘Tara’s kind of beaten you to the punch.’
My blood instantly began to boil and I wondered if steam was about to come out of my ears like in a cartoon. This was supposed to be the best moment of my life and my biggest rival had gone and pulled the rug from underneath me. Tara bloody Murray.
‘She’s what? But you said if I could get Mulberry House in the bag, the promotion was mine! What happened?’ I was all too aware how shrill my voice had gone, but I didn’t care. I was too busy trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill out at any moment.
Paul shrugged and I was seriously tempted to punch him in the face. ‘She came in about five minutes before you did, and told me she’d landed the Ashbury Hotel. It’s a massive coup for us and I’ve decided to give her the promotion.’
No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. I wracked my brains, searching for a way to keep my dream of being Emily Reed, Executive of Business Development, alive and kicking. There had to be a way, there just had to be…
‘Come on, Paul,’ I pleaded, ‘you know how hard I’ve worked for this! I’ve closed way more deals than Tara; just look at my figures! I just got Mr bloody Woodward, our most difficult owner yet, to become part of our chain. That’s got to mean something, hasn’t it?’
I looked into my boss’s deep-brown eyes and could tell he was wavering. He pursed his lips and rested his chin on steepled fingers.
‘I like you, Emily, you know I do. You’d be a great business development executive; there’s no doubt about it. And you’re right: Tara’s numbers aren’t nearly as impressive as yours…’
He trailed off, leaving me in suspense for a very long minute. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my brow as I waited for his verdict. My heartbeat thundered in my ears and I dug my nails into my palms. My whole life was hanging on the next few seconds and I could barely handle the suspense.
‘Leave it with me,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll have a think about it and call you both into the office later.’
I let out the breath I’d been holding in and struggled not to let a stream of expletives follow it. Instead, I plastered a fake smile on my face, thanked Paul for his time and left. Although it may not have turned out exactly as I wanted, it wasn’t over yet. The dream was still alive.
*
My plans for lunch with Frankie were ruined by a text from my mother. She wanted to meet for what she called ‘an inspirational pep talk’ and wouldn’t take no for answer. Apparently she also had something important to tell me. There was nothing inspirational or peppy about these meetings. In reality, it was an hour of her telling me all the ways I was going wrong in life while we ate expensive food.
Today’s venue of choice was Café Rose, a lovely little place just off Sauchiehall Street. I loved living in Glasgow; it was so pretty and vibrant and the people were bloody amazing. I’d been lucky enough to call it home for the past twenty-five years and I didn’t plan on budging any time soon.
I walked in and my mother was instantly recognisable. She was as glamorous as always, clad in a fitted navy Mac and black skinny jeans. Round her neck was a gorgeous printed scarf with little owls on it and her hair was effortlessly styled into a shiny bob. As soon as she saw me, she got up and greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Whatever she had to tell me wouldn’t be good, I suspected.
‘Lovely to see you, hen!’ She enveloped me in a hug and squeezed me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
‘You too,’ I replied when she let me go. ‘Have you ordered yet?’
She shook her head and we sat down, each picking up a menu to study. I saw her peeking over hers to look at me, but her eyes darted away when I looked back.
‘Have you done something with your hair?’ she asked.
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Nope, why?’
She looked at me for a second, tilted her head and squinted. ‘Hmm, maybe you should then.’
Blimey, she’s started early. Usually, we’d at least ordered our drinks before she started finding fault with me.
‘Anyway, let’s talk about that promotion you’re up for,’ she continued. ‘This is the big one, Emily; land this one and you’ll be one of the directors by the time you’re thirty. Have they said anything to you about it?’
I shook my head, deciding to hold off mentioning the fact that Tara was also in the frame. Reaching my goals and meeting people’s expectations was what I ‘did’. Any hint that I might not be successful just wouldn’t wash with my mum. I always had my eyes on a prize of some kind: a job, a flat, a car. Achieving had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember; second place wasn’t an option.
‘Not yet. Paul said I’d hear back today, though.’
‘Excellent! You’ll get it, darling. I’ve got every faith in you. You’re one of life’s high-flyers. You really should stop wearing those awful jackets with the shoulder pads, though. They make you look so… sharp and shoulder pads died a death in the eighties. What about a nice flowery dress or a pair of jeans instead?’
I sighed and gritted my teeth. ‘Or I could just turn up to work wearing my Cookie Monster onesie and unicorn slippers?’
‘I’m just saying there’s no need to look so corporate, that’s all.’ She picked up my hand to inspect my nails. ‘Oh, Emily, when was the last time you got a manicure? These are terrible!’
My blood began to boil and I could feel my already thin patience beginning to fray even more. Although I knew my mum meant well, the constant stream of advice could be a little hard to stomach. I did my best to take it in the spirit it was intended and tried to attract the attention of a passing waiter. The only thing that would make this situation better was eating then leaving as quickly as possible. However, he passed me by without a second glance.
‘Excuse me!’ My mum put her hand up and another staff member came right over to take our orders. That was the thing with my mum: she had an air about her that commanded respect.
‘I’ll have the loaded potato skins to start and… What about you, Em? What do you fancy?’
I glanced down at the menu one last time. ‘Just a garden salad for me. I’m not that hungry.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mum scowl and she told the waitress to bring a bowl of chips and some mozzarella sticks too. The girl took off before I could amend my order and a few minutes later our food arrived at the table.
‘I’ll never eat all of this,’ I said, looking down at it, ‘but I’m going to demolish these mozzarella sticks. Anyway, what did you bring me here to tell me? You said it was important.’
Mum’s knife and fork paused as she was about to cut into one of her loaded potato skins. All the colour drained from her face and she pursed her lips. I saw a flicker of what looked like fear cross her face, but it was gone before I could ask any questions.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She waved a dismissive hand and popped a forkful of potato, bacon and cheese into her mouth. ‘It can wait until you come round tonight. So, come on, tell me what’s new. Have you got yourself a man yet?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope. I don’t have time for all that romantic stuff; too busy trying to conquer the world, remember?’
I peeked up and saw my mum visibly wince. She leaned over and took my hand in hers. ‘Emily, you really should try and meet someone nice. Although maybe get some highlights in your hair first.’
Chapter 2 (#ulink_d35b9fff-b6bf-529d-8a3b-fe8de779c304)
Over the course of lunch, Mum pointed out no fewer than twenty things I had to sort out in my life. They included my flat, my car and my pores (they were apparently ‘huge’). Luckily for me, my dad came to join us just after the main course had been served. Mum was never quite so critical when he was around.
‘Emily, you’re like that Bruno Mars song,’ he’d said when Mum subtly suggested I should stop wearing the colour grey. ‘You’re amazing just the way you are.’
I couldn’t help but smile. Dad had my back in every situation, even if his lines were a bit cheesy. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stay for dessert and Mum’s suggestions for improving my life came thick and fast. Another attempt to find out what she wanted to tell me failed; she dodged the question and said she was late for an appointment. It would have to wait until I went round for dinner later that night. Somehow, I got the feeling a big bombshell was on its way, and that I wouldn’t like it one bit.
*
By the time I got back to the office, I was more than ready to throw myself back into work. It was the one thing I could always count on in life: closing deals, enticing new customers to join our group and developing my portfolio of clients had become a way of life to me. When I was working, all my mum’s criticism and the stresses of the world seemed a million miles away.
The first thing I saw as I walked in was Tara Murray’s smug, cat-like grin. My stomach instantly turned and I wondered if Paul had gone back on his earlier promise to hold off on a decision about the promotion.
‘Hi, Emily!’ Her voice was dripping with syrup and I felt like throwing up in my mouth. ‘Have you heard the news? I closed on the Ashbury Hotel today.’
Her smile was so sweet and simpering that she made a Care Bear look bitter. I knew I had to hide how annoyed I was, so plastered a fake smile to my face and hoped it would stay.
‘I heard,’ I replied through clenched teeth. ‘Congratulations. I signed Mulberry House just before lunch.’
Although I couldn’t swear to it, I was sure I saw Tara’s smile shrink a little. She knew how much Paul wanted to land Mulberry House; the Ashbury Hotel was small fry in comparison. I could see it in her eyes as she realised the promotion might not be as ‘in the bag’ as she thought.
‘Oh!’ Her voice rose by an octave and she clapped her hands together. ‘Good for you, that’s brilliant! Have you spoken to Paul?’
‘He’s aware.’ I flashed her a quick smile and sprinted to my desk before she could ask any more questions.
My phone ringing made me jump. It was Paul. He’d made his decision.
*
Minutes later, Tara and I were standing in his office, our respective nerves on tenterhooks as we waited to hear who the proud recipient of the promotion would be. Paul was cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder as he took a last-minute phone call. Nervously, I tapped my foot on the floor and worried at my thumbnail. Every second was eking by slowly, mocking and tantalising me. My whole life was hinging on this one single moment.
Paul muttered a goodbye then put the phone down, turning his attention to us. ‘Sorry about that! Right, so, as you know, you two are the top candidates for the business development executive position. You’ve both got great numbers and today you both closed really important accounts. This company is really lucky to have you two.’
His eyes lingered on Tara for a little longer than I was comfortable with. I couldn’t help feeling like I was third-wheeling something, but I wasn’t sure what.
‘Anyway.’ Paul cleared his throat before he continued. ‘I’ve had a think about things and, given the circumstances, I’m giving the promotion to Tara. Congratulations!’
‘What?’ My voice barely rose above a whisper. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; all my hard work and dedication had come to nothing. My world slowly began to unravel around me and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it.
My boss shrugged at me and got up to celebrate with Tara, who was jumping up and down and squealing like an excited toddler who’d just found a new box of crayons. She threw her arms around his neck and I noticed two pops of colour rise in his cheeks. The hug lasted a little too long and I was sure I saw a lingering look pass between them.
‘Thank you so much, Paul. I won’t let you down!’ she said, her voice shrill with excitement.
She scampered out of the office like an excited puppy, eager to share the news with her little coven of friends. When she closed the door, I turned to Paul. My arms were folded across my chest, like that would hold all my anger and disappointment in.
‘Better get back to work,’ he said, trying out a smile. ‘Lots of hotels out there we don’t have in our chain yet!’
‘Cut the crap, Paul; that promotion should’ve been mine and you know it! You said it yourself. My numbers were better than hers and I signed Mulberry House today. So, unless Tara managed to pull a master stroke and get us the bloody Savoy or something, I don’t see why you promoted her over me.’
Paul blew air out through his cheeks and laced his fingers together behind his head. ‘It’s just one of those things, Emily; better luck next time, eh?’
Something was off, I could feel it. There had been something in the way Tara had just leapt on him that didn’t sit right with me. But what could I do? Throwing baseless accusations around wouldn’t help and would probably put me in an even worse position. I gave him my best I’m-onto-you stare and stalked off, wondering how the best day ever had gone so badly wrong.
*
By the time it came to finishing for the day, I was more than ready to leave the office. I’d lost my dream job to none other than Tara bloody Murray and had had to listen to my mum finding fault with me for most of my lunch hour. Now it was time to go home, put my feet up and… Oh no. I screwed my face up as I realised I’d have to sit through yet another thrilling instalment of Things Emily Could and Should Be Doing Better.
‘Great,’ I said to the largely empty office. ‘This’ll be a barrel of laughs!’
Mum and Dad’s plush flat in the West End of Glasgow was like something from an interior design catalogue. It was decorated in subtle, muted shades of cream and brown with hardwood floors and sumptuous furniture. Tasteful photographs and artwork were strategically placed around the rooms, yet the whole place still managed to look cosy and lived-in. It had taken several meltdowns to achieve that look, including one about whether ecru or eggshell would work best in the living room.
Mum greeted me at the door, arms outstretched with a large bottle of champagne in one hand.
‘Hiya, darling!’ Her accent was thicker than usual; her vowels were slacker and her tone wasn’t as clipped. She’d obviously had her standard ‘few glasses of wine’. ‘Come away in, dinner’s nearly ready.’
I wondered if her tipsy state would mean she’d tell me what the ‘something important’ was from lunch that day. I followed her inside and the gorgeous smell of cooking ensnared my senses. Unless I was very much mistaken, it was my mum’s signature spaghetti carbonara.
‘Something smells nice,’ I said, hoping the compliment would lead in nicely to some subtle detective work. ‘Listen, I—’
‘Did I tell you Gillian from my book club’s been having an affair? Husband caught her in bed with their accountant last week and threw her out. Rumour has it she and the accountant are staying in a hotel somewhere and planning to start a new life in France!’
Mum shot me a serene smile as she bustled into the kitchen. I knew her well enough to read the message behind it: don’t ask me what I wanted to tell you about earlier; you’ll get nowhere.
I stood in the doorway to the kitchen while she chatted away happily and dished up dinner onto her favourite china plates. Behind me, I felt a hand on my shoulder: Dad.
‘Back for another one of your mum’s “inspirational pep talks” then?’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Good luck!’
‘Hey you, any more of your lip and you’re not getting dessert!’ Mum threw a smile over her shoulder as she sprinkled some Parmesan over the spaghetti. ‘Anyway, dinner’s ready.’
As much as I enjoyed tucking into Mum’s utterly delicious food, I couldn’t help wondering when the bombshell would be dropped. I kept looking for gaps in the conversation where I could bring it up, but they were both making it difficult. One minute, the topic was politics and the next Dad was passing on idle gossip from his mates at the golf club.
Eventually, I decided a direct approach was needed. I set my fork down and pushed my plate away from me.
‘Mum,’ I began, dreading the words that were about to come out of my mouth, and what might follow. ‘When we were at lunch today, you said you had something to tell me, but when I asked what it was you said it could wait till later. Well… it’s later! Could you just tell me what it is so I’m not worrying myself sick about it?’
Dad sighed and threw his cutlery down. ‘Pamela, you didn’t! I thought we’d already decided we weren’t going to tell her!’
‘She has a right to know, Simon! It might’ve been easy for you to keep this a secret for twenty-five years, but it hasn’t for me. Emily’s at an age now where she can make her own decisions—’
I shot up from my seat with such force that the entire table shook. ‘Instead of talking about me like I’m not here, tell me what’s going on!’
Silence fell over the table and Mum slowly got up, her face taking on an odd grey pallor. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never once seen her ruffled or flustered.
Until now.
‘Emily, you might not like what you’re about to hear, but please don’t fly off the handle.’
Dread crept over my skin and my eyes darted over to my dad, trying to get some clue as to what was about to happen from his face. It was set in a hard, stern line that gave nothing away. It was unusual to see him without his trademark carefree smile.
‘What’s going on?’ I fixed Dad with a hard stare, hoping he’d shed some light on the twenty-five-year-old secret he and Mum had been keeping.
Mum left the room and the silence grew even more uncomfortable. It was such a contrast from the lively buzz of conversation there had been just a few minutes ago. I looked at Dad again, but he didn’t meet my gaze.
‘We’ve always told each other everything in this family,’ I said. ‘What’s so bad that you and Mum had to keep it from me?’
His head snapped up and I was sure I could see tears in his eyes. ‘You don’t understand, Emily… It was a very difficult decision for both of us at the time. Mum didn’t want to keep it from you, but I felt it was best…’
Before I could ask him to explain himself, Mum came back with a large shoebox in her arms. Her eyes were rimmed with red, as though she’d been crying, and her skin was paler than ever.
‘Emily, before you open this box… I… I just want you to know that I love you sweetheart. And so does your dad.’
She handed the box over to me, hands trembling and breathing ragged in her chest. I stared down at it, tracing the worn brown cardboard and wondering what lurked underneath. Whatever it was, it was enough to unsettle my usually unflappable mum and make my dad upset.
I pursed my lips and looked up at them. Dad’s hands were on Mum’s shoulders and they looked as though they were bracing themselves for the dire consequences of my opening the box.
‘I take it there’s not a pair of brand-new Louboutins in here?’ I managed a weak chuckle, but it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘Guess I’d better open it then…’
I sucked in a huge lungful of air and lifted the lid, half expecting a load of demons to come flying out like Pandora’s Box. However, all I found inside was a huge pile of letters.
I frowned, picking one up like it was an unexploded bomb. ‘Oh God, guys, don’t tell me these are your old love letters to each other!’
Mum let out a huge, sharp sigh. ‘No, not quite.’
Dad ran a hand across his tired face and looked like he wanted to run out of the room and never come back. ‘I told you this was a bad idea, Pamela.’
‘She deserves to know, Simon! We should’ve told her years ago!’
I couldn’t take their bickering any longer; it wasn’t helping anyone. As they sniped back and forth at each other, I reached into the box, took out a letter and ripped it open. The sound of the envelope tearing brought the argument to an abrupt halt and they looked at me as if I’d just unleashed hell.
‘Oh God…’ Mum’s voice was a ragged, trembling whisper. Dad clutched her hand as sweat began to bead on his forehead.
‘Let’s see what all this is about, shall we?’ I forced brightness into my voice and smiled, hoping it would lessen the tension in the atmosphere. By the looks on my parents’ faces, it hadn’t worked.
I wriggled the letter out of the envelope, treating it like it was made of fine china. Whatever was on this page, I said to myself, it wouldn’t have the power to change anything. They were just words; why were Mum and Dad so scared of a bunch of words?
Then I read the letter, and that was when all hell broke loose.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_d1390982-d070-5b3d-a4f5-805cd023eef2)
Dear Pam,
Thank you for your letter and the pictures you included from Emily’s fifth birthday party. She looked absolutely beautiful in her pink party dress, didn’t she?
I know this is yet another special occasion I’ve missed. I’ve spent the last five years wondering about her: if she looks like me or if she has any of my personality traits. I know our arrangement is in place for a reason – my marriage to Diane would be ruined if she found out I’d fathered another child – but it still hurts that Emily has to miss out on knowing her real father. Still, I know it’s for the best. She has a man to call Daddy and I’m sure he’s a wonderful father to her. It’s best for everyone if I stay away, live my life and let you all live yours.
I still think about that night, you know. The moonlight on the bay, the look in your eyes, the texture of your skin: it’s all so clear to me, even though five years have passed. I do wish things could be different and that we could be together with our beautiful daughter. I have a wonderful life with Diane and out daughter, Nicola – they’re the best family I could ever ask for – but I can’t quite forget what I had with you. It’s just a wish, though, and where does wishing ever get you? I hope you, Simon and Emily are happy in Glasgow; from what you told me, you have a very good life there. I’ll always remember my brief time with you with fondness: it gave me some incredible memories that I’ll never forget. Hope you and Emily are both well. Perhaps one day in the future, I can meet her. One day.
All my love,
Derek
I read the letter over and over again, hoping that would somehow change the words within it. Each time I looked, though, the message was the same. My world cracked and slipped beneath me as I tried to wrap my head around what I’d just seen.
‘Who’s Derek?’ My voice came out as a strangled croak because my mouth was so dry. ‘And why were you sending him photos of my birthday party?’
I looked up at my parents, studying their expressions. Both of them looked utterly devastated. Mum had started to cry, while Dad didn’t know where to put himself.
‘Come on, guys, who is he?’ I’d learnt a long time ago never to ask a question I didn’t already know the answer to. I knew exactly who Derek was; there was only one reason Mum would be sending him photographs of me. All I wanted was to hear it from them. Maybe I’d be proven wrong and this nightmare would be over.
It was Mum who spoke first, as usual. She’d regained some of her composure, but not enough to mask how worried she was.
‘Derek is… Emily, he’s—’
‘He’s your real father.’ Dad’s voice stabbed the air, none of its usual warmth and humour present. ‘Derek Simpson is your biological father.’
With that, my neat and ordered world slipped and crumbled around me.
*
Of course, I wanted answers. I demanded to be told absolutely everything from start to finish, with no details left out. And, while dessert was being dished up, Mum obliged.
‘Just after I married your dad, I went on holiday to visit a friend who lived in a little village in Yorkshire called Luna Bay. It’s a beautiful place, right by the sea. While I was there, I…’ She trailed off to take a sideways glance at Dad, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘I met a man named Derek Simpson. We, er, became friends, I suppose and… Well, one thing led to another and I found out I was pregnant shortly after I came back to Scotland.’
Out the corner of my eye, I could see Dad visibly tense up. It was strange to see him be anything other than carefree and happy. Usually, he was telling Mum to calm down if she was flapping about something, or cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.
I rose from my chair and turned to face him. ‘Dad, please tell me this isn’t true.’
He blinked back tears and stared down at his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Emily…’
With that, my last shred of hope disappeared. I felt as though I was in some sort of nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I could feel the last twenty-five years unravelling at a rate of knots. The man I’d called Dad my whole life wasn’t my dad. I’d apparently been the product of some ill-fated holiday romance with someone Mum had barely known.
‘Emily, you know this doesn’t change anything,’ said Dad. ‘I’ve loved you since the day you were born and nothing will get in the way of that.’
I nodded, feeling tears welling up inside me. ‘I know, I know… God, I can’t bloody believe this!’
My knees gave way and I collapsed back onto my chair, throwing my head into my hands. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? You’ve kept this from me my whole life; didn’t you think I had a right to know who I really am?’
Mum reached over and put a hand on top of mine. ‘You already know who you are; you’re Emily Louise Reed and, like your dad said, nothing’s going to change that. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew who’d be the best father to you and it certainly wasn’t some man who lived nearly two hundred miles away! It was this man sitting right here. I wanted to give you the best possible life I could and that meant cutting Derek out completely. He’d have been no good to you, sweetheart, believe me.’
I drew my hand away. ‘Dad’s been amazing and he’ll always be my real dad, but I still had a right to know about this Derek guy. It should’ve been up to me whether to include him in my life, instead of you making the decision for me.’
Mum stiffened and pursed her lips. ‘Everything you need to know about that man is in those letters. I may have told him it was best to stay away, but he chose to listen. He could’ve ignored all that and come to see you anyway, but he didn’t. He stayed in Luna Bay to protect the perfect life he had there. That’s all you need to know about him, Emily.’
I got up from my seat again and grabbed the box, shaking a few letters loose onto the dining table. ‘Well, why don’t you let me make my own mind up about that, eh? Just for a change.’
Before anything else could be said, I stormed out of the flat, taking my box of secrets with me.
*
Going through the letters wasn’t an easy task. As far as I could tell, Derek had written one every year on my birthday since I was born, then stopped suddenly a few years ago. By the time the sun rose over Glasgow, I’d read most of them and learnt a great deal about the man I now knew to be my biological father. Mum had been right; traces of him permeated each and every one. I knew he loved the village he lived in, played for the local cricket team and ran a café with his wife, Diane. Yet there was still so much I didn’t know, things that words on a page would never be able to tell me. So, for as much as I’d learnt about Derek Simpson, I still didn’t feel like I knew him at all.
I slumped into work ten minutes late, feeling like a zombie and clutching my cup of takeaway coffee for dear life. Frankie’s eyes widened with shock when she saw me collapse into my chair.
‘God, I knew Reed family dinners were eventful but this is something else! What happened? Did your dad break out the good champagne or something?’ She chuckled good-naturedly but stopped when she saw my scowl. ‘Or not…’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ I heaved a weary sigh and opened my emails to see if I had any leads to follow up that day. As I tried to look at the screen, the words on it swam in front of me. All I could think about was last night’s revelation.
Frankie swung her chair round to face me, her keen eyes burning into the side of my head. ‘Try me.’
I looked at her, wondering whether to unload my burden onto her. A problem shared was a problem halved, after all, but Frankie had a certain flair for the dramatic that didn’t help in some situations.
In the end, I caved. ‘Last night, my parents chose to tell me that my dad isn’t my biological dad.’
A curious mixture of expressions crossed my best friend’s face, ranging from shock to disbelief and finally settling on amusement. She let out a loud snort and burst into a fit of giggles.
‘It’s not bloody funny!’
‘Oh come on, Em! It can’t be true, can it? Your parents are the most solid and stable people I know, plus they’ve been together forever. No way is Simon Reed not your dad!’
I swallowed hard, trying not to let tears spill out. ‘Well, he isn’t. According to my mum, some bloke called Derek from Yorkshire’s my biological dad.’
Frankie’s giggly reverie stopped as soon as she saw my face. ‘Oh my God, you’re serious, aren’t you? Emily, I’m so sorry! I… I thought you were messing around.’
She rolled her chair over to mine and pulled me in for a comforting hug. I sank into her shoulder, not knowing what else to do except cry.
‘As if losing that promotion to Tara bloody Murray wasn’t enough; now I find out my dad isn’t really my dad!’ I sobbed, the words barely coherent.
The sound of Paul’s office door opening interrupted my sobbing. I craned my neck to see none other than Tara Murray sashaying out into the main office, blowing a cheeky kiss to our boss before heading back to her desk. On her way there, she stopped and turned to face me.
‘Emily, I meant to say I’m so sorry you didn’t get the promotion.’ Her head was cocked to one side, as if she was talking to a child instead of someone the same age as her. ‘Paul was just talking me through it all; you know, my additional responsibilities, how much travel there’s going to be and stuff like that. I feel awful that you didn’t get it, really I do.’
Her syrupy-sweet voice clashed dramatically with the smugness in her face. I could see right through her; she was basking in the glory of her new-found promotion and rubbing my face in it.
‘Oh, I’m sure you won’t lose too much sleep over it,’ I replied, my expression like curdled milk. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you’ve got loads of work to do, so don’t let me keep you.’
She flashed me a final smile, then walked back to her desk. She threw a look towards Paul’s office over her shoulder. It lingered just a little too long and the realisation hit me like a ten-ton truck.
‘Oh God, I’ve been so bloody stupid!’ I let out a hollow laugh and threw my head into my hands.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Frankie.
‘Ask yourself this: why would Paul promote someone with crap sales figures, who’s hardly generated any potential leads, and who clearly isn’t capable of doing the job? I thought her blowing him a kiss just then was strange, but did you see that look she just did? They’re obviously involved with each other! That’ll be why Tara got promoted over me.’
I let out a frustrated sigh and banged my fists on the desk. ‘It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?’
Frankie rubbed my back. ‘Maybe you should take the rest of the day off? Go home and talk to your mum about this Derek bloke; you must have loads of questions to ask her.’
‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘No, I’m staying here.’
I turned my full attention to the screen in front of me, losing myself in the work I had to do that day. Everything would be OK as long as I kept Mum’s revelation firmly shut out. If I didn’t think about it, it would slowly fade away.
*
Of course, it didn’t.
In fact, the more I tried not to think about Mum’s revelation, the more it occupied my mind. By lunchtime, it had permeated my every thought and even my questions had questions. I desperately craved answers, but had no idea where to turn for them. Every kernel of an idea ended up at a dead end; I was glad to leave the office on my lunch hour.
‘What am I going to do, Frankie?’ I asked as we sat in our favourite sushi restaurant on Queen Street. ‘I mean, how could they keep something like this from me my whole bloody life? Didn’t they think I had a right to know who my biological father was? It’s not as if I’d have ditched my dad and run off to find this Derek bloke, is it? Nothing’s ever going to change the fact that Simon Reed is the man who’s been there for every big moment in my life and brought me up as his own. I just… I don’t know. I feel as if my whole life up to this point has been one big lie.’
I grabbed a California roll and stuffed it into my mouth, hoping the taste would somehow distract me from my ever-growing mountain of problems.
Frankie, cool and collected as ever, raised one of her perfectly defined eyebrows as she ate her spicy tuna roll. ‘The way I see it, Em, there’s only one thing you can do: go to Luna Bay. You’re due loads of leave since you practically live in the office, and I’m sure Paul wouldn’t mind. While you’re there, you could meet up with Derek and finally get the answers you’re looking for.’
I grimaced. ‘I dunno, Frankie. It’s in the arse-end of nowhere, I wouldn’t be able to do any work and there won’t be a decent coffee shop or sushi restaurant for miles! You know me; if I have to do without my California rolls and double espressos for too long, I go mad.’
She cocked her head to one side, much like Tara had done earlier but without the condescension. ‘OK, so you’d have to do without some creature comforts for a few weeks. Wouldn’t it be worth it to finally meet Derek and find out all about him? You said it yourself: you feel like your whole life up till last night has been a lie. If you go to Luna Bay and spend some time with him, you might find that things start to make a bit more sense. Did you never feel like something was different before last night?’
I shook my head, the salty tang of tears stinging the back of my throat. ‘Nope, never. I think if I had, this would’ve been a bit easier to deal with. I would’ve thought “so that’s why I’ve always felt a bit out of place” and felt, I dunno, relieved or something. But I don’t because I never for a second suspected that my dad wasn’t my dad. He was… he is… in every sense of the word apart from stupid, sodding DNA. It must’ve torn him apart to bring up another man’s kid, but he never showed it.’
Frankie reached over and put a hand over mine. ‘See this right here? This is why you should go to Luna Bay. If you don’t, you’ll drive yourself mad trying to fill in the gaps and end up upsetting yourself. What do you reckon? Think you could stand missing a few art exhibitions and sushi lunches to find out more about this guy?’
I paused for a moment to think, taking another California roll as I mulled things over. ‘You know what? You’re absolutely right!’
Chapter 4 (#ulink_7b558bdd-d697-508c-9ee9-3a9c32d60753)
Operation Find Derek came together surprisingly quickly. It started with me marching into Paul’s office just after lunchtime.
‘I want to talk about booking some leave,’ I said, taking a seat on his rickety visitor’s chair. ‘I… I’ve had a bit of a family crisis, you see, and I was wondering if I could use up all my leave to sort it out.’
I looked up at him as he fiddled with a packet of sherbet, trying to mine the remainder out from the creases in the paper. His face twisted into expressions showing varying degrees of frustration before he gave up and shoved the whole lot in the bin.
‘Sorry, what did you say?’
I gritted my teeth and repeated myself, putting special emphasis on the ‘family emergency’ part.
‘So what do you say? I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, and we aren’t too busy at the moment.’
It felt odd to not use my usual no-nonsense, ball-busting approach. I felt vulnerable and exposed; there was no bravado or bluster to hide behind. I was just a girl sitting in front of her boss, asking for time off to go and chase after her long-lost biological father.
He chewed over it for a moment, umming and ahhing and sucking air in through his teeth.
‘I don’t know, Emily. You’re one of my top development managers and I can’t afford to have you away for too long. What’s this family emergency you need to sort out?’
I felt a furious blush creep into my cheeks. ‘I’d rather not go into specifics, but I’m planning to visit a little village in Yorkshire called Luna Bay for a while.’
The name sparked Paul’s interest and he began to rummage through a large pile of papers on his desk. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and flashed me a triumphant grin.
‘How about you make it a working holiday? We’ve got this little B&B down there we’d like to get our hands on: a place called Sunflower Cottage. Why don’t you book in there, try and talk the old biddy who owns it into selling to us, and you can do whatever you need to do at the same time? It’d put you in a really good position for another promotion. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, she sent Tara packing when she went down there a few months ago.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Paul, I’m asking to take annual leave to sort something out, not take on more work! Why don’t you send someone else to do it. I probably won’t have the time to work while I’m there.’
‘You’ll be in the area anyway,’ said Paul, ‘so it doesn’t make sense to send two people when I can just send one. Think about it; you’ve missed out on one promotion, but land this place and you’ll be in with a shout for another.’
He raised his eyebrows in a come-on-you-know-you-want-to gesture and slid the piece of paper across to me. It was the particulars for Sunflower Cottage. From what I could tell, it was one of those little seaside B&Bs that relied on its flock of regulars rather than passing trade. Attached to the particulars was a blurry picture of the exterior. No pictures of the rooms had been included; I imagined it being stuck in a time warp. It was probably all moth-eaten carpets and net curtains.
‘Why do we want this?’ I asked, screwing my nose up in confusion and giving Paul back the particulars. ‘We aim at the high-end luxury market; this looks more like a retirement home!’
Paul gave a chuckle that sounded vaguely nervous and smiled. ‘Going for the grey pound, I think the boss said! Big market these days, apparently. So what do you say? I’ll grant your annual leave request now if you agree to get this in our portfolio.’
I picked up the particulars again, deep in thought. ‘Go on then. How hard can it be to land one little bed and breakfast?’
Paul gave a faint grin and looked up at me. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’
*
My trip to Luna Bay was booked and confirmed later that day; I’d be leaving the following morning for a month. Trips to potential clients didn’t usually last that long, but Paul had said the owner was ‘particularly resistant’ so I’d probably need more time to close the deal. Frankie put on her usual theatrics and said I couldn’t possibly leave because there would be nobody to help her fix her terrible life choices.
‘I’ll miss ya terribly, honey, I do declare!’ she’d said while pretending to faint like a Southern belle.
She wasn’t the only one who had an opinion on my leaving. My mum had an absolute meltdown when she heard the news and demanded a last-minute ‘inspirational pep talk’. Given that the last one had ended with me finding out I had a long-lost secret dad, I was more than a little worried when she turned up at my flat later that night.
‘Are you sure you want to have that wall painted mauve?’ she asked as she stepped into the living room. ‘This isn’t the biggest flat in the world; you can’t afford to use dark colours in here. Makes the space feel small and cramped.’
‘It’s fine as it is. What’s tonight’s pep talk about, anyway? Let me guess: we’re going to have a Princess Diaries moment where you tell me I’m actually the heir to the throne of a country I haven’t heard of.’ I chucked a blouse into my suitcase and turned to face her, arms folded and a wry smile on my face.
‘Nice,’ she snapped. ‘Very bloody helpful, Emily.’
‘Oh come on, I was kidding!’
She stormed over to the sofa and shot me a dark sideways glance. ‘I know you think this daft crusade to Luna Bay is going to give you all the answers you want, but it won’t. Derek won’t take kindly to you disrupting his perfect life there and you’ll be no further forward. The letters stopped a few years ago, so he couldn’t even be bothered keeping them up any longer. Why don’t you just stay here and get on with things? You’ll be much happier that way.’
I heaved a sigh and joined her on the sofa. ‘I know you want to protect me, but I’m twenty-five. I’d really like to meet him, Mum; I want to find out more about him, not just base my opinion on some letters. He might tell me to sod off and, if he does, that’s fine. But I still want to try. I’m not trying to replace you or Dad; I just want to see what Derek’s like, that’s all. So… Do you have an address or anything for him?’
I could see her face soften, but her lips remained pursed. ‘Like I said, I haven’t heard from him for a few years. He might’ve moved away for all I know, although I doubt it. He loved Luna Bay when I knew him. All I can tell you is that he and his wife, Diane, had a café by the sea called the Moonlight Café. Maybe you could start there.’
She snuck a glance round at me, but her eyes quickly darted away when I looked back at her. That was her subtle way of trying to communicate with me when she was angry.
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ I tried for a smile, but it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘I mean it, by the way; nobody will ever replace you and Dad. Not now, not ever, and especially not my long-lost biological dad. God, it sounds like a bad soap-opera plot when I say it like that!’
Mum got up and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to convince you not to go?’
I shook my head. ‘Afraid not. Plus, it’s a working holiday now as well; Paul had the idea to get me to close a deal on a B&B while I’m there. Some place called Sunflower Cottage.’
A wistful smile crossed her face. ‘Oh yeah, I remember Sunflower Cottage. It was a gorgeous little place, right by the sea…’ She drifted off for a moment, lost in some dreamy reverie. ‘Anyway, be safe while you’re there and don’t run off with any surfer boys! And phone me when you’re there! Oh, and try to wear something a bit more flattering, darling.’
She gave me a quick kiss, mumbled some excuses and headed for the door. As I went back to my packing, I thought about the task that lay in front of me. I had to close a deal on a seaside B&B with a ‘particularly resistant’ owner, find out about my biological dad and not run off with any surfers in the process.
No pressure then.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_2ddb2967-b803-5ee7-ba3b-26e6805f0935)
They say bad things come in threes.
During my first few minutes in Luna Bay, I discovered just how true this was. First of all, my little car, Cilla the Clio, finally decided she’d had enough on the narrow country road leading to the village. I had to park by the side of the road as best I could, haul my suitcases out of the boot and walk the rest of the way on foot. Not an easy task when you’re wearing a pair of four-inch heels that keep getting stuck in the churned-up mud.
‘Fuck!’ I felt my heel sink into the mud for what felt like the millionth time and tried to yank it free.
My shoe dislodged, but I’d used too much force to free myself and ended up toppling over onto my front, sending my suitcase flying. I spat dirt out of my mouth and let out a loud, piercing scream that would’ve put banshees to shame. I hauled myself to my feet and stared down at my ruined suit. It was caked in dirt and the trousers were torn, revealing a bleeding cut on my knee. I fished my phone out of my handbag to call a taxi.
No service. Lovely.
‘Well, that’s just fucking perfect,’ I said to my silent surroundings. ‘Well done, Emily; this is what not listening to your mum gets you.’
I carried on walking until a bunch of whitewashed buildings came into view. At least I hadn’t managed to get myself lost. As I dragged my suitcase along the bumpy, uneven pavement, I’d never felt so far away from Glasgow. All the elements that made up my life there felt like they were slowly slipping away: the bittersweet tang of freshly brewed Americano from my favourite coffee place, the trips to A Play, A Pie and A Pint at Oran Mor with Frankie, the vibrant nightlife I loved to be a part of… Now I was stuck in the arse-end of nowhere because one little revelation had turned my world upside down.
I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and brooding over what I was missing that I didn’t see someone come out of a nearby pub, walking straight across my path. I looked up just in time to clock the terrified expression on his face as we collided, spilling freezing cold liquid over the both of us.
‘Are you blind or something?!’
‘Me?! You were the one who came out of nowhere!’
The figure straightened himself up to his full height and I found myself looking at what my granny would call a ‘torn-faced disaster’. There was a sour, surly expression on his face and his thick, dark eyebrows were furrowed. He wasn’t happy at all. Not surprising, considering he was covered in beer.
‘Do you always crash into complete strangers wherever you go?’ he asked, casting me a reproachful glare.
‘Only the ones who don’t look where they’re going and come barrelling out of nowhere.’ I arched my eyebrows and folded my arms, trying to appear cool and in control while looking like warmed-up roadkill.
‘I’m looking for my dog, if you must know. We were sitting outside on the back terrace, then she heard a loud noise and ran off. You haven’t seen her, have you? She’s a little white Westie and goes by the name of Dixie.’
I shrugged. ‘Sorry, I haven’t.’
‘Don’t suppose you could help me look for her? She can be a nightmare to get back on the lead. Usually thinks you’re playing a game or something.’
I saw his mouth twitch into something like a smile, but it was quickly replaced by the frown he’d been sporting for the entire conversation.
‘I’m actually running late for an appointment, if you can believe that,’ I replied, sweeping some honey-blonde wisps out of my face and gesturing to my torn and dirty clothes. ‘Sorry. I hope you catch her, though.’
The man rolled his eyes, grunted something that sounded like a thank you, then stalked off to find his dog. He threw a look at me from over his shoulder that I felt pretty sure wasn’t friendly.
I continued walking through the centre of the village, my ridiculously expensive high heels pinching my feet every time I moved. I watched him for a second as his great, hulking figure shrunk away into the distance. If this was what Luna Bay locals were like, I was in for a pretty bumpy ride.
‘As if I’ve got time to go looking for a dog!’ I huffed to no one in particular. ‘I’m a business developer, not Ace Ventura!’
*
Sunflower Cottage was easily recognisable. Painted in a bright yellow with a healthy crop of its namesake growing in the front garden, it stood proudly above Luna Bay on a hill overlooking the spectacular beach. Even before I reached it, I knew I’d like it there. It seemed to rain down happy vibes on the village with its sunny exterior and looked like a wonderful place to be.
It was just a shame I was here to change all that.
I hobbled up the driveway, dragging my suitcase across the block-work paving, and stood outside, appraising the building in front of me. It was practically crumbling to the ground by the looks of things, but there was no denying it had a quirky charm. Plus, it was in a great location, ideal for tourists. Yes, it could be a real money-spinner with just a few changes and repairs. I tried to heave my suitcase closer to me and felt the weight drag along the ground. My mind turned to the collection of letters nestled at the bottom and the secret contained within them. Finding out I’d essentially been living a lie my whole life had left me feeling oddly rudderless. I’d always been sure of my place in the world: I was Emily Reed, daughter of Pamela and Simon Reed, sushi enthusiast and business development manager extraordinaire. Now I wasn’t sure what my place in the world was. Hopefully, I’d find out while I was in Luna Bay. From where I was standing, I could see a building on the corner of the next street: the Moonlight Café, according to its large silver sign. My stomach lurched. That was Derek and Diane’s place. My long-lost dad was just a few feet away, oblivious to the fact I was here…
Time to go in. Time to stop thinking. I took a deep breath and hauled my suitcase over the rest of the driveway, the wheel snagging on a loose paving block. I got it free without too much trouble. For someone described by my friends as a ‘short-arse’, I was stronger than I looked.
‘Need a hand with those, dear?’
A voice behind me made me jump and I turned to see a stout little woman standing in front of me. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright and keen. The smile on her face vanished when she saw my dishevelled appearance and she rushed over to me.
‘Dearie me, darling, what happened to you?! Have you been in an accident?!’ She studied me with a worried expression, like I was a stray kitten she’d found at the side of the road.
‘You must be Rose,’ I said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Emily Reed, a business developer from Walter Marshall Hotels.’
Rose’s bright smile shrunk a little and she pursed her lips. ‘Ah yes, I’ve been expecting you. Let me help you with your bags. I’ll get you a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake then phone a garage about your car.’
Her voice was laced with sadness and, before I could say anything, she hoisted up my suitcase and began dragging it inside. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who was stronger than I looked. I followed her inside.
As soon as I stepped over the threshold, the full force of Sunflower House hit me. The building outside might’ve looked like it was ready for demolition, but the inside was a completely different story. The lobby was painted a pale lemon and the beechwood floors looked like they’d been newly sanded. Light spilled in from three round windows and a large wooden staircase stood proudly at the centre. The lounge lay just off the lobby and straight ahead was a quintessential country kitchen, where I could smell freshly baked bread. Little homely touches – photographs, paintings and the like – adorned the walls, while little shelves held ornaments and other assorted knick-knacks. This wasn’t just another faceless guesthouse; this was on a whole different level.
‘Wow,’ I breathed, ‘this is beautiful.’
‘Thank you, dear.’ Rose placed my luggage at the foot of the stairs then came over to join me, her white-blonde curls bobbing round her like a halo and her mouth set into a weak smile. ‘Anyway, where are my manners? I’d better introduce myself properly. Rose White, lovely to meet you.’
She stuck a hand out and I shook it. One look at her told me she not only knew exactly why I was here, but that she wasn’t going to put up a fight. There wasn’t anger or resistance in her eyes; there was only sadness, regret and a hint of relief.
‘You’re younger than I expected you to be,’ she said, piercing the silence between us.
‘Youngest business development manager in the firm,’ I said, not sure why I thought this was a good time to bring that up. I cleared my throat. ‘You’ve got a gorgeous B&B here.’
Rose cast a dreamy eye round the lobby. ‘This place is beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve run it for the last thirty-five years and loved every minute of it. It needs a bit of TLC here and there, but it’s my favourite place to be in the world. Now, let’s get you settled in.’
I gave a soft chuckle. ‘I wish all potential clients were as welcoming as you! Sometimes it’s their family’s idea to sell, rather than their own. When that happens, they make it clear I’m not wanted and that they don’t want to give up the business they’ve worked so hard to build.’
Rose shook her head as she retrieved a key from a hook behind the little reception desk. ‘Not me, flower; I think I’m ready to hand over the reins to someone else now. I’m getting too old to run this place by myself; I’ve been doing it for thirty-five years and I need a rest! Only problem is, when it comes to the crunch, I can’t seem to sign on the dotted line. Not to mention they sent an incompetent fool last time; she was soon given her marching orders! I think I just need a little more time to think about things before I give it up altogether. Now you’re here to explain all the benefits and give me all the information I need, that should be a bit easier. Anyway, I’ll get you your room key so you can freshen up, we’ll have some tea and cake, and then we’ll get your car sorted. There’s a fantastic local mechanic round here; he’ll be able to fix it easily, I’m sure.’
I felt my shoulders relax and even stopped thinking about the pain in my knee. Rose had a way of making someone feel calm and at home, no matter what trouble they’d been through. Just then, the back door opened and a familiar voice drifted into the lobby. It was the man who’d crashed into me outside the pub.
‘Hey, Rose, sorry I was a bit longer than I thought I’d be. Dixie ran away from the pub and decided to go for a run in the fields! Fancy a—’
His voice cut off when he saw me. He cut quite an amusing figure; his russet-brown hair was sticking up in odd directions, mud was streaked across his face and clothes and his little white dog was tucked under his arm, also caked in dirt.
‘Wow, this is a small world. Was this the appointment you had to get to, checking into a guesthouse?’ There was a note of amusement in his voice that didn’t quite reach his face, which still looked as surly as ever.
‘Have you two met?’ Rose asked, her nose wrinkled with confusion. She looked from me to the mud-caked man and back again, waiting for one of us to offer an explanation.
‘Kind of.’ He gave an awkward grunt as he tried to keep hold of the squirming dog, who was probably trying to escape the imminent bath time. ‘I asked her to help me look for Dixie, but apparently she was too busy.’
Another glare was tossed my way. What was this guy’s problem?
‘And he came barrelling out of the pub without looking where he was going and crashed into me. It was a… unique way to welcome me to the village, I’ll give you that.’ I gave him my sweetest smile. Needless to say, it wasn’t returned.
‘Well, charming as this has been, I need to go and give Dixie a bath.’
He moved towards the staircase but Rose stepped in front of him, her arms folded across her broad chest. ‘Noah William Hartley, I will not have you being so rude to people and forgetting your manners! Now, introduce yourself properly to our new guest.’
I saw a blush creep into Noah’s cheeks; from the looks of things, he was used to being chastised. He sighed loudly and flashed a quick smile in my direction.
‘Noah Hartley,’ he said, sticking a hand out. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
I was surprised to hear that it didn’t sound forced or sarcastic. He’d probably have got a clip round the ear from Rose if it had.
‘Emily Reed,’ I replied. ‘I’m from Walter Marshall Hotels.’
All at once, the atmosphere darkened and Noah quickly snatched his hand back before I could shake it. His brows knitted together and he glared at me.
‘So, you’re here to take Rose’s place away from her, are you? Well, you can get in your car and go back to wherever you came from because Sunflower Cottage isn’t for sale!’
Rose’s jaw dropped and she shot him a look that could probably have turned the average person to stone. For such a kindly woman, I guessed she could be fierce when the situation demanded it.
‘Her car actually broke down by the side of the road,’ she said, her icy voice jarring with the house’s warm and loving atmosphere. ‘So, if you’d like her to leave, I suggest you get it towed to the garage. Why don’t you get on with that after you’ve given Dixie a bath?’
Judging by the look on her face, Noah would have been a fool not to do as she said. Although she’d phrased it as a question, it was evident he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter.
‘Oh, you’re the local mechanic then,’ I said, raising my eyebrows in surprise. ‘You don’t look like one!’
He rounded on me, his face still set in the same surly expression. ‘Oh yeah? What do I look like then?’
I badly wanted to reply ‘a torn-faced disaster’ but knew that wasn’t a wise idea. He’d probably cut my brake cables or something if I did.
Noah looked like he was about to say something else, but luckily Rose beat him to it. ‘Go on then, Noah, Dixie’s filthy!’
His mouth opened and closed a few times, as though he had so much he wanted to say that his brain didn’t know where to begin. Eventually, he settled for a grunt of frustration and stormed off upstairs.
‘Sorry about him.’ Rose craned her neck to make sure he was out of earshot before she spoke. ‘He’s a lovely lad really, just forgets himself sometimes. He loves this place, bless him. It’s been the closest thing to home for him since…’
She trailed off and shook her head, as though trying to dislodge some unwanted thoughts. ‘Anyway, you’ll be in room seven. Let me show you up! It’s just up these stairs. Don’t worry about your suitcase; I’ll get Noah to bring it up before he goes to get your car.’
I followed her up the wooden staircase to a door with a large gold number seven attached to it.
‘This will be your room. The sheets will be changed every day and breakfast is served from seven until nine-thirty.’ Her voice carried the same warmth that permeated the entire B&B. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll be down in the kitchen. There’s some fresh bread and cookies if you’d like some.’
‘Thanks, Rose, I won’t be long,’ I replied.
So, I thought, this is what country living’s like. So far, I’d had a car break down on me, fallen down in the mud, been splashed with beer, and argued with the town arsehole.
One thing was for sure: I was in for one hell of a ride in Luna Bay.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_e6e86400-1eb1-518a-8f69-9b5f4790187c)
It’s pretty safe to say I wasn’t prepared for what my room would look like. When I opened the door, I let out a little gasp. I’d imagined a tired and dated room full of frills and floral patterns. What I had was a beautiful New England beach house-themed room, with white wooden floors and pale blue walls. The duvet and curtains had blue and white stripes on them and the bed looked sumptuous and comfortable. The furniture followed the theme too: a white chest of drawers stood on the far wall and a wicker chair sat next to a window seat lined with sky-blue cushions. This definitely wasn’t the fixer-upper I’d imagined.
I could see why Walter Marshall Hotels wanted to snap this place up. It was in an ideal location, had beautiful interiors, and there were only minor repairs to be made, by the look of things. Sunflower Cottage would definitely be an asset to our already bulging portfolio, if we could get our hands on it. There was a certain magic to the place too, something I hadn’t seen anywhere else.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and found Noah standing on the other side, my suitcase in one hand and a newly clean Dixie nestled in the crook of his other arm. Her little face lit up as soon as she saw me and I stroked her soaking wet fur as best I could.
‘Hello you!’ I cooed. I risked a glance at her owner, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. ‘You know, I’m not usually—’
‘Here’s your suitcase,’ he grunted, abruptly cutting me off. ‘Where did you say your car was?’
‘It’s on the little country lane that leads into the village. I’ve tried to park it so it doesn’t block any other cars.’
He nodded. ‘OK, well, I’ll get it towed to the garage and take a look at it as soon as I can. We’re booked solid, but I’ll try and fit you in.’
I bristled at him acting like he was doing me a huge favour when he clearly didn’t want to. ‘Don’t inconvenience yourself for me! I’ll call another garage if that makes things easier for you.’
He flashed me something that I guessed was supposed to be a smile. ‘It’s no skin off my nose. The sooner your car’s fixed, the sooner you can leave.’
He retreated down to the lobby before I could answer, taking his ridiculously cute dog with him and leaving me fuming. I’d never met anyone so infuriating in my whole life. All I could hope was that he wasn’t a regular fixture at Sunflower Cottage; I might end up on a murder charge otherwise.
*
My second day in Luna Bay started much the same as my first: I had a run-in with Noah. No beer was spilled over anyone, though I was sorely tempted.
I went downstairs after an uneasy sleep to find him in the kitchen, helping Rose prepare breakfast for the other guests. He was even more dishevelled than usual, with stubble lining his chin and his hair sticking up in every possible direction. His checked shirt was buttoned at a random angle and I could see a stain on his dark-brown T-shirt. It was such a contrast to my own appearance; I was wearing my favourite grey trouser suit and my hair was scraped up into a sleek, high bun. Just because I was at the seaside didn’t mean I couldn’t look professional, after all.
‘Morning,’ I said, running a hand over my hair and sitting down at the table. The smell of cooking made me feel funny, but I tried not to show it. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘Hello, dear. Did you sleep well last night?’ Rose put some sausages and bacon onto a plate then turned to look at me.
‘Yeah, it was great!’ I knew I was lying, but it was necessary in this situation. I didn’t want to explain that, while the bed had been lovely, I’d been awake most of the night worrying about being in the same village as my long-lost biological father. To avoid anything accidentally slipping out, I turned to my phone and the stack of unread emails that had to be dealt with. Business was the solution to every life problem, after all. If I was working towards my goals, everything would be OK.
Or it would be if there were any Wi-Fi.
‘Is there a Wi-Fi hotspot anywhere round here?’ I asked, trying not to let my frustration seep into my tone. ‘I need to get work done while I’m here.’
Rose shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not, dear. The signal’s always been a bit patchy round these parts, so we just don’t bother with it in the B&B. You’ve got broadband at your place, haven’t you, Noah?’
Some colour drained away from his face. ‘Yeah, but she needs to be here, doesn’t she? She won’t want to schlep up to my cottage to use the internet.’
‘Actually, that sounds ideal,’ I replied. ‘If you don’t mind, that is? She can work anywhere, after all.’
He didn’t say anything and went back to tending the sizzling pans in front of him.
‘It’s too early to be working anyway,’ Rose said. ‘You haven’t even had breakfast yet; what do you fancy? Noah does a lovely full English.’
‘Do you have any kale or avocado? A green smoothie would be amazing.’
They both turned to look at me, blank expressions on their faces like I’d spoken in fluent Swahili.
‘Huh,’ said Noah, ‘I didn’t think anybody actually drank those! Looks like chemical waste, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t.’ I kept my voice low, but judging by the look he shot me, not low enough.
‘Oh, I’m afraid I don’t have either of those things.’ Rose wrung her hands with worry. ‘I… is there anything else I can get you?’
I shook my head and got up from the table. ‘Nah, I don’t really do breakfast. Thanks, anyway. I’d better get going. I’ve got loads of work to do today.’
Rose looked utterly crestfallen and I felt a stab of remorse in my chest. ‘OK, if you’re sure. I’ll get some in for you for breakfast tomorrow. Noah, watch this pan while I go and see if we’ve got any maple syrup for that Canadian couple in room two.’
I smiled. ‘That’d be great, thanks!’
As I left, Noah’s voice piped up. ‘Next she’ll be asking for bloody quinoa salad on a bed of pearl barley or something.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with liking healthy food, you know. You are what you eat and all that jazz,’ I replied.
He left the pan of bacon he was tending to and came over to me. ‘So, you’re some unidentifiable substance we’ve never heard of and don’t want in our kitchen?’
Oh great, I thought, the verbal sparring was starting again. There was no way I was letting him win, though.
‘And you’re something that might be popular but still liable to cause heart attacks?’
‘I’ll miss this back-and-forth when you go back home,’ he shot back. ‘When is that exactly?’
‘Not soon enough for my liking!’
Our latest run-in was interrupted by Rose gleefully announcing she’d found the maple syrup and the Canadian couple bursting into the kitchen, full of the joys of summer.
‘Till next time,’ I said, throwing him a sly smile over my shoulder.
*
As my stomach gurgled and lurched thanks to no green smoothie, I found a shred of phone signal to phone Paul with an update on Sunflower Cottage. You had to watch with Paul. He had a reputation for being slippery and conveniently forgetting things. I also needed a distraction to stop me thinking about the fact my biological dad was just a few feet away, living his life, with no clue I was about to show up on his doorstep.
‘It’s practically in the bag,’ I said after my belly groaned again. ‘Owner’s really keen to sell; she just needs a bit more time to think it over. Also, she called the lovely Tara an incompetent fool. Great decision giving her that promotion!’
I could almost hear the cogs of Paul’s oily little mind turning as he tried to formulate a smooth and winning response. ‘Just think of when you’ve got business development executive after your name on your business card and running your own team. Tara might’ve had an… unfair advantage, shall we say, but you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you earned it.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah that’s a real comfort right now; I’m two hundred miles away from home, there are no decent coffee shops or sushi bars for miles and I’m standing on a bloody chair to get mobile phone reception. Oh, and the town arsehole already hates me!’
‘You’ll win him round; you always do.’ Paul’s voice was silky and soothing. He’d used the same tone with countless disgruntled clients over the years and I could see why it worked. ‘And even if you don’t, who cares? It’s a tiny little village in the middle of nowhere that you’ll never have to visit again.’
I sighed as I tried to keep my balance on the chair. ‘You’re right. It’s only a month and then I’ll never have to see anyone here ever again. Doesn’t sound so bad when you put it like that.’
‘That’s the spirit! Just think of coming back to civilisation and that should get you through. Let me know when you’ve definitely got Sunflower Cottage in the bag. It’s a big one, Emily, and I know you can do it. If anyone can get her to sign on the dotted line, it’s you.’
*
I was jiggling the laptop around, trying to find even a wisp of a Wi-Fi connection, when Rose came in, proffering tea and scones.
‘I felt so awful I didn’t have the ingredients to make your smoothie earlier, so I thought you might like these.’
‘Oh thanks, that’s lovely!’ I put my laptop aside and took the cup and plate from her.
I expected her to leave, but she sat herself down on the edge of the bed. The frame groaned a little under her weight.
‘You seem like a busy young woman.’ She gestured to the laptop with an uncertain smile. ‘All these gadgets you have with you! I wouldn’t know where to begin with them.’
‘They’re all part of my job.’ I sipped my tea and took a bite of my scone. ‘Don’t know where I’d be without them!’
‘Noah’s always fiddling with that tablet computer of his… what’s it called, an iPad? I don’t bother with them; Sunflower Cottage doesn’t even have one of those website thingymabobs. I think sometimes people need to put the technology down and have a look at their surroundings. Like now, for instance: you’re in one of the most beautiful parts of Yorkshire and you’re stuck inside working! Still, I suppose this place is a million miles away from what you’re used to, isn’t it? Which part of Scotland are you from?’
I opened my mouth to respond, feeling a little awkward about answering a question about myself. The answer was Glasgow, but was it? I’d already found out my dad was a Yorkshireman called Derek; maybe my mum was really a Highland princess like Merida from Brave?
I shook my head to displace the thoughts. ‘I… I’m from Glasgow.’
Rose smiled. ‘I visited Glasgow once; it was years ago now. It was so busy and there was so much going on! It seemed like such a lively place. Is it still the same?’
‘It’s the best city in the world,’ I replied. ‘I can’t imagine living anywhere else.’
I picked up the laptop to see if I could pick up any more Wi-Fi. My hopes were dashed when I couldn’t. ‘Looks like I won’t be getting much work done today then!’
Rose chuckled. ‘People don’t come to Luna Bay to be busy; they come here so they won’t be busy. You should put that laptop of yours down for a little while and have a look round the village. It’s a beautiful place; you’ll love it here.’
I closed the laptop lid and sighed in defeat. ‘I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a million things to do. Ever since I started at Walter Marshall, it’s been non-stop; I haven’t had time to catch my breath! I wouldn’t have it any other way, though; I love being busy.’
Rose walked over to the door, but didn’t immediately leave. ‘You know, Luna Bay has a habit of casting its spell on you. Sometimes you end up finding something you didn’t even know you were looking for.’
With an enigmatic smile, she was gone.
*
After spending most of the morning swearing at my laptop, salvation came in the form of a phone call from Frankie. She asked if I’d met any gorgeous surfers yet and if so could I bring one back for her. She also begged me to come back because she claimed her soul wasn’t complete unless I was in the G postcode area.
‘Well, I’m sorry your soul’s incomplete right now, but I promise I’ll be back soon. With any luck I should have this wrapped up in about a week tops. The owner’s lovely; it’s just her nephew, or whoever he is, trying to put a spanner in the works.’
‘Is he hot?’ Frankie asked in true Frankie Moretti style. ‘Maybe he could put a spanner in my works…’
I rolled my eyes and did my best to stifle a chuckle. ‘Can you drag your mind out of the gutter for five minutes?! He’s…’
I trailed off as I realised I wasn’t sure how to answer her question. I brought up his face in my mind and tried to come to a conclusion.
‘He’s OK, I suppose. Doesn’t look like a foot, but he’s not my type. You’d like him, though: he’s mean, moody and got a massive attitude problem.’
Frankie giggled. ‘Now you’re talking! Bring him up the road with you; tie him up and throw him in the boot of your car if you have to! I’m making wedding plans already. Any more scandal, news or gossip before I go back to work?’
‘Oh, you know,’ I said in a mock-casual voice, ‘my long-lost dad’s just a few feet away from where I’m staying and my life feels like it’s slowly turning to shit. The usual.’
‘Are you going to see him soon?’ she asked. ‘What will you say to him? Hi, Dad. Sorry I haven’t visited for twenty-five years but I didn’t know you existed until a few days ago?’
A cold sweat washed over me as the prospect of coming face to face with him crossed my mind. ‘I’ve got no idea what I’m going to say to him… Oh God, Frankie, I really didn’t think this through, did I? I’m going to fuck this guy’s life up by turning up on his doorstep; you can’t just take that sort of thing back, can you? I should never have come here; I’m going to tell Paul I’m coming home and to hell with the promotion!’
As panic gripped me, I went to cut the call until Frankie’s no-nonsense voice stopped me in my tracks.
‘Emily Reed, don’t you dare do anything of the kind! If you come back to Glasgow without having seen your dad or closed the deal for Sunflower Cottage, then I’ll never speak to you again. You deserve this promotion; everyone knows that. I know Paul’s taking the piss with it, but he knows he should never have promoted Tara. So stay right where you are and land this deal, missy. Plus, you need to bring this mean and moody guy back for me.’
That was all the incentive I needed. Frankie had a way of making the impossible seem like a walk in the park.
*
Thanks to a combination of no Wi-Fi and my long-lost dad preying on my mind, I decided to venture out into Luna Bay for a while. I found myself sitting in the Purple Partridge, the pub I’d bumped into Noah outside of. A pretty little place that looked out onto the beach, it was the perfect hideaway to escape my problems in. I sat huddled in my little booth near the back, determined not to let the world in. Instead, it passed by around me as the pub’s various patrons made trips to the bar, gossiped in corners and shared memories with their friends. I found myself tapping my foot and drumming my fingers on the table, frustrated not to have something to keep my mind occupied.
How had things unravelled so quickly? It was bad enough that my dad wasn’t my dad, but now I was in the same village as the man who was! It was like something from daytime TV. This was far more than your traditional curveball; it felt like someone, somewhere, was having a great laugh at my expense. The words in the letter played in my head like a sickening loop I couldn’t control: it still hurts that Emily has to miss out on knowing her real father. I wanted so badly for it to be a bad dream; to wake up and realise that the life I loved so much was still intact. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I was stuck with the nightmare currently unfolding in front of me.
‘Are you OK, love?’ a voice above me asked.
I looked up and saw a kind-looking, middle-aged lady standing in front of me. Her sandy-blonde curls and soft-brown eyes gave her the look of somebody’s favourite aunt and her smile was warm and friendly.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I replied, wiping my eyes. ‘Just… just a touch of hay fever, that’s all.’
‘I’ve heard that one before. Here, take this.’ The woman sat down next to me and pulled out a tissue from her bag, handing it to me so I could dry my tears.
‘Thanks. I don’t usually cry like this; it’s just been a really weird day.’
She chuckled and shook her head. ‘I’ve had a fair few of those myself recently. One thing I’ve learnt, though; it all comes out in the wash. I’m Diane, by the way.’
Diane. Surely that couldn’t be Derek’s wife, the one Mum had mentioned and who had been peppered throughout his letters? Just as my imagination began to run away with me, cool logic took over and reminded me not to jump to conclusions. It was probably just a coincidence; Diane was quite a common name, after all, and it might not be her.
‘Nice to meet you, Diane, I’m Emily.’ I stuck out a hand and she shook it.
‘Lovely to meet you, Emily; you look like you could do with a cup of tea and a massive slice of cake. My café’s not far from here if you fancy popping in?’
That sealed it. Diane might be a common name, but I was willing to bet there weren’t two Dianes in Luna Bay who both owned cafes. I felt goosebumps creep over my skin, like I was in the presence of a ghost. Here I was, carrying this huge secret that would rock her world, and she had no idea.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve really got to get on. Got lots to get done while I’m here. Maybe some other time, though?’
Diane nodded and looked a little sad as I got up to leave. ‘No problem, you’re welcome any time. It’s the Moonlight Café, just on the corner of the next street. You can’t miss it. There’s some free cake and tea with your name on it!’
I smiled and said goodbye to her before leaving the pub. The sun was shining brightly over my beautiful surroundings, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it. The only thing I wanted to do was regain my focus, recover from the temporary blip on my radar and close the sale of Sunflower Cottage. That was what I was here to do.
Chapter 7 (#ulink_ef8195a1-ef86-518a-aa8e-efe7f0fcae18)
A buzz of chatter greeted me when I got back to the guesthouse, as did the smell of baking. I followed it to the kitchen and found Noah and Rose sitting at the table as Dixie chased a green tennis ball around the room. The conversation came to an abrupt halt and they each turned to look at me. Dixie immediately rolled out the welcome wagon and brought me her ball, so I threw it down the lobby for her.
‘Hello, dear!’ Rose’s voice was as bright and sunny as the day outside. ‘Nice to see you getting out and about! There’s food going if you fancy any?’
I could see Noah staring in my direction, his facial expression unreadable. It was as though he was searching for some tiny imperfection on my face; his brow was crumpled and his eyes slightly narrowed. I squirmed; I didn’t like being under the spotlight.
‘Sure,’ I replied, taking a seat at the table. ‘I’d love some. Maybe we could talk business too?’
Noah took that as his cue to leave, calling to Dixie to come with him. He shot me a dark look before he left the room. Rose didn’t seem to mind and cut us some cake, sticking the slices on china plates and joining me back at the table. I got ready to put my business head on and banish that day’s bombshell from my mind. Business was what I knew, what I was comfortable with. It would help me forget.
Rose, however, had other ideas.
‘Don’t mind him,’ she said, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘He’s a lovely boy really, just forgets himself sometimes. As you’ll probably have gathered, he’s none too keen about me selling this place. Can’t say I blame him really; Sunflower Cottage has been like home for him since… Well, it means a lot to him, let’s just say.’
Her eyes quickly darted to her tea, as though she knew she’d almost said too much. ‘H… he was telling me your car will be up and running again soon; something to do with the battery or something…’
I stared at the door he’d just walked out of, expecting him to come storming back in at any moment. ‘Does he help you run this place?’
‘When he’s not busy at the garage, yes,’ said Rose. ‘He wants to be here full-time; would spend every waking minute here if he could! But I told him: I said I wanted him out there living his life instead of being stuck here with me. The silly sod gave up his job last year after I had a fall and moved down here! He had his own mechanics business in Leeds and he sold it to come and live in Luna Bay. Told me he’d only be staying a few weeks until I got back on my feet then casually announced he’d bought a cottage nearby! I nearly fainted with shock.’
Noah’s devotion to Rose and Sunflower Cottage came as something of a pleasant surprise and I found myself smiling.
‘Wow, so he just packed up his life and came down here? That’s brave,’ I remarked, trying not to let my surprise seep into my voice.
‘He’s a brave person.’ Rose chose not to elaborate and took a forkful of lemon drizzle cake. ‘Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?’
*
I spent the next hour eating my body weight in cake, drinking enough tea to fill the North Sea and explaining the features and benefits of Walter Marshall Hotels to Rose again. I laid her fears to rest and told her we wouldn’t be bulldozing Sunflower Cottage and replacing it with some anonymous glass-and-steel skyscraper, even showing her a PowerPoint presentation on my laptop.
‘This place has so much character,’ I’d said, gesturing around at the gorgeous country kitchen. ‘Why would we want to lose that?’
By the time I left to go back to my room, I felt more confident about closing the deal than ever. Rose had made some very encouraging noises during our discussion and, with any luck, I’d be back in Glasgow living my old life in no time at all.
Or would I?
Since I’d heard my mum’s revelation about Derek, I wasn’t sure if living my old life was still an option. I’d been living the life of Pamela and Simon Reed’s daughter, but I wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe my old life had to go like my old identity had.
A noise from under the bed made my thoughts skid to a halt. It sounded like there was something rolling along the floor. I cocked my head to the side, trying to make out what the noise was and who was making it. An excited woof gave me my answer: Dixie was obviously under the bed. I crouched down and saw her pawing at her tennis ball, trying to get it out from the space it was now stuck in.
‘Hello, you!’ I chuckled and crawled under the bed to help her. ‘Is your toy stuck? Here, I’ll get it for you.’
Dixie leapt around with excitement as I reached my hand in to free the ball. It was wedged between a couple of old-fashioned storage boxes.
‘I hope she’s not bothering you.’ Noah’s voice startled me and made me bump my head on the bedframe.
‘Ow! No, she’s fine, don’t worry. Her tennis ball got stuck and I was just getting it for her.’ I got to my feet and rubbed the sore spot on my head. ‘See, no harm done!’
I threw the ball onto the landing for her and she went chasing after it, leaving Noah and I standing in a very awkward silence.
‘Listen, I know I haven’t exactly been friendly to you since you got here and not just because you ran into me and spilled my beer. I just really don’t want Sunflower Cottage becoming part of some faceless hotel chain that’ll rip the heart and soul out of it. Rose has worked hard for this place and I don’t want to see it pulled from under her.’
I frowned and folded my arms. He wasn’t getting to speak to me that way. ‘You said it yourself, though; Rose wants to sell. Nobody’s pulling anything from under her! And you’re right; you haven’t been very friendly! In fact, you’ve been a sour-faced, obnoxious prat since I got here. What’s your problem, anyway? Don’t you want to see Rose happy? She told me she’s ready to hand over the running of this place to someone else. Don’t make me the bad guy just because you’ve got a chip on your shoulder.’
Noah scoffed loudly and shook his head. ‘A chip on my shoulder? You know nothing about this place and you know nothing about me either. Rose doesn’t need some corporate chain coming in and taking over everything; she has me and I know this place better than anyone. We don’t need you here! You know what? The sooner you leave us to get on with our lives, the better!’
He looked down at me, his eyes blazing with anger and his face set in a stony glare. I squared my shoulders and stood my ground; I’d dealt with hostile parties in these deals before and I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me. Plus, after the day I’d had and the discovery I’d made, I was in no mood for his shit. Footsteps on the stairs distracted us for a second.
‘Only me!’ I heard Rose trill as her footsteps retreated down the hall.
‘Well, until the owner tells me I’m not wanted anymore, I’m staying whether you like it or not. Now, you can act like a child and stomp around in a sulk for the next month, or you can try and be a grown-up about it. Your choice.’
We stood mirroring each other’s body language, arms folded and scowls on our faces. Both of us were determined not to back down. Noah’s nostrils flared and I could feel my teeth begin to gnash. I’d never met such a pig-headed, ignorant man in my whole life.
Suddenly, the standoff between us was shattered by a terrified scream followed by an almighty bang. Startled by the noise, we both ran out of the room, with Dixie joining us on the landing in hot pursuit.
Nothing could’ve prepared us for the sight awaiting us. Rose was lying in a lifeless, crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs.
Chapter 8 (#ulink_6088f74f-e986-5dae-bb99-6e4dfdeb5aa0)
The next hour was punctuated by flashing blue lights, sirens and medical jargon. As soon as Rose got to the hospital, she was whisked away to have her injuries assessed and treated. Noah and I sat in silence waiting for news, our feud temporarily on ice. His large frame was hunched forward and he made a little pyramid with his fingers to rest his chin on.
‘God, I hope she’s OK.’ His voice was gruff and thick, like he was trying to keep his emotions below the surface. ‘Why the hell aren’t they telling us anything?!’
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Lynsey James
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 28.04.2024
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О книге: ’the most delightful escape, full of heart and warmth and humour.’ – Becca’s BooksThe perfect summer romance for a sunny afternoon and a picnic in the parkEmily Reed is having a bad day. Her mother has just dropped a devastating bombshell—the dad she’s known and loved for twenty-five years isn’t her biological father!Desperately in need of answers, Emily heads to Luna Bay covering her personal quest up as a work trip to Sunflower Cottage B&B.Setting up the ‘Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club’ should be a great way to meet the locals and maybe even find out who her father is. The only problem is brooding and insanely gorgeous, Noah, who is determined to make Emily’s stay perfectly uncomfortable.Discovering the truth after all these years was never going to be simple, but Emily will stop at nothing to uncover her past… even if her heart is getting in the way!Don’t miss a single book in the Luna Bay series:Book 1 – The Broken Hearts Book ClubBook 2 – The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast ClubBook 3 – The Silver Bell’s Christmas PantomimeWhat reviewers are saying about The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club‘I loved this book and finished it in two days, it is very much unputdownable!’ – Whispering Stories‘an enjoyable summer read’ – The Belgain Reviewer‘The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club is a lovely read, which would be perfect for some light holiday reading.’ – Portobello Book Blog