Chapter 1

1

This was it! The first day of the rest of her life. The first page of a new chapter. A new year, a new her. She’d take all of those cringy clichés – all of them.

Laura Price closed the door of her rusty old Focus and half walked, half ran across the broken slabs towards the front door, pausing every few steps to untangle her ankles from the spindly overgrown lavender which grew alongside the cracked pavement through the front garden, the stringy stalks of the dormant plant a silvery, sage green against the blue of her jeans.

‘Afternoon, Miss Price.’ Ms Taunton, the stuffy but stunningly beautiful estate agent, checked her watch.

‘Hi. Sorry I’m late.’ Why had she said that? She knew she wasn’t. She’d been forty-five minutes early and as soon as she’d seen Ms Taunton appear on the decking encircling the right-hand side of the inn, she’d run up here. Habit. That was why.

‘Here are your keys. Spares are in the kitchen drawer.’ Ms Taunton held out the keys dangling from a purple plastic teddy keyring.

‘Wow! Thank you so much.’ Trying hard to suppress the excitement bubbling in her stomach and appear professional, Laura took the keys and fought the urge to give the estate agent a hug.

‘You’re welcome.’ Ms Taunton shook Laura’s hand briefly before turning on her overly high heels and sauntering down the steps and through the front garden to her two-seater BMW, avoiding the long stalks of lavender with much more finesse than Laura had, despite the height of her heels.

The keys! She had the keys to her very own inn! Pennycress Inn! She looked down at the small plastic teddy in her palm. Her new home and her very own business all rolled into one!

Stepping back down to stand on the cracked and uneven, but equally charming, garden path, Laura leaned her head back and peered upwards. This was really hers.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she looked up at the yellow Cotswold stone building, the wooden window frames perfectly matching the lavender-coloured front door, framing the criss-cross of lead-paned glass. The large willow tree growing to the right was almost the same height as the thatched roof, which was adorned with a single straw cat seemingly inching its way across the ridge of the roof – the perfect addition to such an idyllic building.

Laura wrapped her arms around her middle as her stomach gurgled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, the hard plastic of the teddy keyring digging into her side. Could she really do this? Could she really be responsible for a place as beautiful as this?

Of course she could. This was her fresh start, her chance to reinvent herself as the confident, independent businesswoman she wanted to be. Shaking the doubts away, she stepped up to the front door.

After unlocking it, she slowly turned the handle and inched the purple door open, a lasting reminder of the colour the lavender would bloom in the spring. She wanted to savour this moment, to remember it forever.

Stepping into the vast hallway, she spun around slowly, taking in the elaborate oak staircase, the varnished oak floorboards and the rich green, pheasant-print wallpaper. It was hers. All hers!

She’d been dreaming of this moment since she had been a little girl. Every time her family had visited Cockleshell Inn in Whitby for their holidays, she’d told her parents that one day she’d open her own inn. Of course, as she’d grown up, her plans had become a pipe dream and she’d never thought it possible, until she and Harry had divorced and she’d found herself floundering, unsure which direction to take. Well, they said every difficult situation had a silver lining, and this was hers, the opportunity to take a leap of faith.

Two doors opened up from the hallway and she peered into the one on the left, which led into a large sitting room where guests would enjoy the morning papers and a freshly brewed cuppa, filling the time between breakfast and departure, or relax in the evening playing board games with family and friends or reading a novel borrowed from the bookshelf which stretched from one side of the open fireplace to the back wall. The room was even bigger than she remembered, and the large chesterfield sofas arranged in two groups gave guests the choice to mingle or to enjoy a game of Monopoly around one of the oak coffee tables.

Walking across the hallway, she reached the kitchen diner. The dark oak cupboards of the kitchen area complemented the pale yellow walls of the dining area, where four pine tables were positioned. French doors opened onto the decking which surrounded the back of the inn, steps leading down into the vast garden. At the kitchen end, a doorway led into a small utility area equipped with a washing machine, tumble dryer and a short washing line hanging from the ceiling.

As she walked towards the French doors, Laura ran her fingers across one of the pine tables before standing and gazing outside. Yes, she had a lot of work to do, but if she squinted her eyes against the low January sun, she could just about picture how it could look in the summer. She might need to replace the wooden benches and picnic tables which were scattered around the garden, but that would be a worthy investment to allow her guests to enjoy the flowers she would plant, as well as the view of the fields beyond the hedge at the bottom.

As her mobile phone began ringing, its cheerful tone echoing in the large hallway, Laura walked across to the reception… bar? Desk? Counter? – whatever it was called, which filled the space beneath the stairs, and placed the keys down on the dark varnished wooden top before answering. ‘Hi.’

‘Laura, sweetheart. We’ve got you on speaker. How’s it going? Have you got your keys yet? Are you in?’ Her mum, Ruth, fired off a million questions.

Laura smiled. ‘Yes, I’m in. I have the keys and I’m in. I have my own inn!’

‘Congratulations!’

‘Congratulations, Laura!’ Her dad’s voice echoed down the line.

‘Thanks.’ Laura nodded. They’d changed their tune.

Her dad, Phil, cleared his throat. ‘Look, about this morning, we only have your best interests at heart. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, your dad’s right. We just worry, and as your parents, that’s our job.’ Ruth’s voice softened.

‘I know.’ Laura sighed. She knew it was only because they cared about her, but they never questioned Richie’s or Jenny’s every decision.

‘Good. Just as long as you know that what we were saying was out of love. We’re proud of you for taking on this huge venture all on your own.’

Laura smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time her dad had told her he was proud of her. Probably the morning of her wedding to Harry. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes, pushing all thoughts of Harry from her mind. This was her day, her fresh beginning, and she wasn’t about to tarnish it by giving him a second’s thought. Opening her eyes again, she looked up at the lovingly cross-stitched sign hanging on the wall above the reception desk – Welcome to Pennycress Inn . ‘Thanks.’

‘I am too, sweetheart. Very proud.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ Laura ran her fingers across the wallpaper as she circled the hallway. Pausing, she tried to smooth a bump in the paper which loosened beneath her fingertips and peeled at the join. Oops. She’d have to get some super-strength glue on that.

‘And just so you know, we do have a pot of savings we can dip into if you need it.’ Her dad’s voice had returned to the quiet authoritative tone she knew too well.

‘That’s right, sweetheart. And your brother and sister won’t need to know about it. You can still tell everyone you’ve done it on your own.’ Her mum’s voice was hushed, as though Richie or Jenny were right in the next room.

‘Yes, our little secret.’

Here we go again. Laura rolled her eyes. Now they could no longer try to convince her to withdraw from the purchase, they were trying to throw money at her instead. ‘I don’t need your savings. I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself.’

‘Of course you are. We know you are. We just want you to remember you have options. That’s all, isn’t it, Phil?’

‘Yes, yes. Options. And if you need to put the place back on the market and come home, then we can cover the mortgage until it sells.’

Laura gritted her teeth as she unfurled another piece of wallpaper she’d noticed was beginning to peel. She lowered her voice, hoping her words sounded more confident than she was currently feeling. ‘I don’t need you to do that. I know what I’m doing. I didn’t go into this lightly. You know how much research I put into it. Besides, Pennycress Inn was up and running until a few months ago. The regulars will be back as soon as I reopen, I’m sure.’

‘We’re not doubting you. Far from it. We know you’re now a strong independent woman. We’re just offering a safety net, nothing more, nothing less.’ Her mum’s voice was kind despite what she was inferring.

‘Thanks, but I don’t need it. Any of it. I’ve got this.’ Laura jumped back and failed to stifle a scream as a lump of plaster crumbled beneath her fingers and fell to the floor.

‘Are you okay? What’s happened? Do you need your dad to drive down?’ Her mum spoke quickly, her voice full of concern.

‘No, no. I just…’ Laura looked down at her trainers, a dusting of plaster having turned the black fabric to white, before she focused on the wall again. Tentatively, she pulled the wallpaper back a little more, revealing cracks and dips in the plaster. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? During the viewing? Because she’d been so excited at the prospect of owning her very own inn that she’d failed to notice, that’s why. Now she’d just have to deal with it herself unless she wanted to give her parents the opportunity to utter those words – ‘I told you so’. The words they’d made it clear they expected to say to her. Well, she wouldn’t give them the chance. No, she’d show them that they could, they should, believe in her, that she was capable of this. ‘I almost dropped my phone, that’s all.’

‘Okay. Well, we’ll be off now. Jenny has just this minute popped over with the twins. Speak soon and remember, if you…’ Her mum’s voice trailed off as the phone line suddenly filled with excited screeches from Jenny’s children and Ruth turned her attention to greet her youngest daughter and grandchildren before returning to the phone. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Jenny wants a quick word.’

‘Hi, Jenny.’ Taking a step back, Laura tilted her head and perused the wall. Would the problem area be just that little patch of plaster beneath the wallpaper she’d pulled back or would she need to get the whole wall skimmed? Surely it would just be that little patch, wouldn’t it?

‘Hey, sis, the innkeeper!’ Jenny, now in full control of the phone, laughed down the line. ‘I can call you that now, can’t I? Innkeeper? It just makes you sound so weird – and old!’

‘Haha, thanks.’ Looking down at her fingers, covered in white plaster, Laura rubbed them together before wiping the powdery crumbs down the leg of her dark blue jeans.

‘Everything all right? You sound distracted.’

‘Yes, yes. All good.’ Taking a step forward again, Laura went to pull back more of the wallpaper before thinking better of it. She’d have a proper look at it later. After the phone call. ‘Just taking a look around, that’s all.’

‘And how is it? Is it—’ A child’s scream interrupted Jenny’s voice, followed by the line going quiet momentarily. ‘Sorry about that. Tammy and Toby are hell-bent on trying to kill each other. I blame the fact that Rob woke them up at five this morning when he went to work early.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Exactly. You did the right thing in choosing to buy an inn rather than having kids.’ Exasperation laced Jenny’s voice.

‘Well, I wouldn’t…’ What was the point? She knew her younger sister was only venting at her. Jenny was very aware that the decision Laura had had to make hadn’t actually been between having children and buying Pennycress. She’d had to decide whether to stay with Harry or not. Having kids with Harry hadn’t been the right choice, but having children at all? Well, she’d longed to be a mum ever since she could remember. She sighed. ‘That’s super early. No wonder the twins are tired. You must be shattered as well.’

‘Oh, you’ve no idea. What Rob forgets is that I’ve got to work too, in addition to running these two horrors to school and back and entertaining them until he gets home from the office.’ Jenny’s voice became distant again. She was probably trying to cajole the two six-year-olds into being kind to one another.

‘Right, well, I’ll let you go now then. It sounds as though you’ve enough on your plate.’

‘Yes, yes. Okay. We’ll have to pop by, and you can give us the grand tour. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Ending the call, Laura perched on the bottom step of the large ornate staircase and tapped the edge of her phone against her palm. She hadn’t wanted children with Harry, but she’d wanted them. She still wanted them. She always had. But definitely not with Harry. She hadn’t been able to see a future with him for years now. Seven-year itch? Maybe. They’d been married for seven years. Maybe that’s why he’d begun to close down, to emotionally shut down their relationship, to push her away.

Yes, about a month before she’d made the move from their marital home and slunk back to her parents’ house, he’d suggested they start a family, but she’d known a baby would have only acted as a sticking plaster. And not for long either. Besides, that had been the final nail in the coffin in making her mind up to leave. She’d realised then that he’d been grappling at straws. He’d felt it too. He’d realised their marriage was over as much as she had.

And this place – Pennycress Inn and her vision for it – wasn’t instead of starting a family. She hadn’t even dreamt of running her own business when she’d walked away from her marriage. No, this wasn’t a consolation prize, as Jenny suggested. This was the next chapter in her life. She couldn’t hang around waiting until her Prince Charming came and rescued her from a life of living back home with her parents and rocking up to her overly dull admin job every day. No, she didn’t have that luxury. She was on her own and she had to carve out a life for herself now. She had to be independent. To survive.

Leaning back on her elbows, she looked up at the ceiling. The beams etched with history were every bit as beautiful as she remembered when she’d first viewed the inn. Yes, she was going to be happy here. She just had that feeling.