Chapter 3

3

After stuffing the washing machine full, Laura stood and reached for the washing powder, once again thankful that literally everything had been left here for her. It reminded her of one of those old ships she’d learned about in a secondary school History lesson, found bobbing up and down in the ocean, everything seemingly normal except for the small matter that the entire crew had disappeared into thin air. She remembered being told by her favourite teacher, the one who all the kids had looked up to, Mr Hudson, that the people who had boarded the ship had found the tables laid, meals half-eaten and everything in its place. As far as she knew, the crew’s disappearance still remained a mystery to this day.

Setting the half-full box of powder back down, she spun the dial and pressed ‘start’. Of course, there was no mystery with Pennycress; the owner had merely wanted to hang up her or his innkeeper’s apron and retire. Still, however handy it was, Laura had to admit a small part of her found it a little eerie that everything, from personal effects such as ornaments to the more businesslike items such as the pens at the check-in desk, had been left behind for her. Still, it was her gain and perfect for a novice like she was.

Tilting her head, Laura listened. Had she heard something? Yes, there it was again, a weak, intermittent, dainty tune. Was that the doorbell?

Walking out of the utility room and through the large kitchen towards the hallway, she made another mental note, this time to buy some new batteries for the doorbell. She’d need that working properly if she wasn’t going to miss any guests turning up.

As she pulled the heavy door open, Laura quickly glanced down at her grubby jeans and T-shirt. This wasn’t the first impression she’d been planning on giving to the people of the beautiful Cotswold village of Meadowfield, but it would have to do.

‘Hello, I’m so…’ Her words trailed off, her first ever greeting in the village halted. It wasn’t one of her new neighbours standing on the doorstep ready to welcome her, nor was it some potential guest wondering if she were open. No, the person standing there, mouth agape, was neither of those things.

‘ Jackson? ’

‘Laura?’ She watched as, shaking his head, his dark curls danced above his furrowed forehead.

‘What are you doing here?’ She flared her nostrils. She knew exactly why Jackson Scott was here. Richie. It obviously hadn’t been enough for her brother to ring and quiz her, remind her that he didn’t believe in her. He’d sent his best mate round, too.

‘I…’ Jackson held his hand aloft, a large wicker basket swinging at his hips.

Laura swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, anger rising from the pit of her stomach. She was a fully grown adult! How many times did she have to remind her parents, her siblings, that she was an independent and capable woman? She didn’t need checking up on, keeping tabs on, just like she hadn’t needed anyone to view Pennycress Inn with her. She could do this! She began to close the door.

Jackson stubbed his foot against the wooden door, preventing her from shutting the world of disbelievers out, and grinned. ‘This is your new place, then?’

Glaring down at the large brown boot partially inside her hallway, she looked back up at him, trying to control her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was have a go at him and for him to tell Richie that she was stressed and not coping. Relenting, she threw the door wide again, holding it open with her own foot before crossing her arms. ‘Obviously. And you don’t have to do this.’

‘Do what?’

She waved her hand between them both before tucking it around her middle again. ‘This. You and I both know why you’re here. We both know who sent you and why.’

Without missing a beat, Jackson answered, ‘I’m here because I live in the village. Right next door, as it happens.’

Letting her arms fall to her sides, it was Laura’s turn to be left open-mouthed. ‘You live next door?’

‘Yes.’ Twisting on the front step, Jackson indicated the conifers marking the inn’s boundary. ‘Just beyond there.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Would you like to see my driver’s licence?’ Jackson pulled his wallet from his back pocket with his free hand and, with one deft movement, used the same hand to slide his licence out.

‘No!’ Laura pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘But… Richie never said you lived in Meadowfield.’

‘Richie doesn’t do details. He just knows I live in the Cotswolds.’ Jackson shrugged.

True. If it wasn’t anything to do with money, numbers or any aspect of finance, Richie’s attention span was close to 2.06 seconds long. Nevertheless, this couldn’t just be a coincidence. Someone must have known Jackson lived here. He’d basically been part of the family since he and Richie had met in infant school.

Her parents. Maybe they’d put him up to this. Kept it quiet from her that Jackson lived in the same village as Pennycress Inn. They’d have loved it, knowing that she thought she was gaining her independence, doing something totally alone, and yet Jackson lived right next door. She could just imagine them sitting on their sofa grinning and rubbing their hands together in glee that they’d got one over on her, that they could protect her whilst appearing to be the innocent party. ‘Typical.’

Shaking his head slightly, Jackson chuckled. ‘Thanks for the warm reception.’

‘You know what, I’ve just about had it with my family’s games. I really have.’ Narrowing her eyes, Laura huffed and went to close the door in his face again.

Placing his palm on the door, Jackson held it open. ‘Wow, thanks for that. I come round to do the neighbourly thing and I get the door practically slammed in my face.’

‘Ha, that’s funny.’ He wasn’t going to admit it, was he? He wasn’t going to admit that he was in on their game. It was clever. She’d give them that. And the fact not even her mum had let anything slip… ‘Yep, you just keep that up.’

‘You’re not even going to take my basket, then?’

Gripping the door handle tight in her fist, Laura tried and failed to suppress her anger, instead feeling it bubble over. This wasn’t going to go away, was it? Her parents would continue to do their very best to interfere one way or another, so she might as well let him in, let him report back. She swung it fully open again, flinching as it knocked into the wall and a small slab of plaster fell to the floorboards. Great. ‘Go on then, you might as well come on in. I can give you a tour if you like?’

‘Okay…’ Jackson glanced towards the street behind him before stepping inside and loitering by the open doorway.

‘Don’t be shy. Here, grab a notebook and pen. You might as well take detailed notes. That way, you won’t forget anything. You can even make some sketches. They’d like that, my parents. They were always fans of your artwork.’ Reaching across the reception desk, she pulled a notebook and pen from the shelf before holding them out to him, wriggling them in her hand as if to encourage him to take them. She knew she was being childish but she just couldn’t help it, the frustration she felt was towards her parents, but they weren’t here. He was. All she’d wanted was for them to believe in her, to be proud of something she’d achieved, and yet her new venture was seemingly some sort of game to them.

Stepping forward, Jackson gingerly took the notebook and pen from her, still gripping the basket with his other hand. ‘Your parents?’ His voice was wary, guarded.

‘Yes, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? And that’s why my parents didn’t mention you lived here in Meadowfield. You’re here to spy, so spy! Feed back to them to your heart’s content.’ She flung her arms out, encompassing the hallway, the doors, the stairs.

Breaking into a smile, Jackson chuckled.

Pursing her lips, Laura scowled at him. She’d always liked Jackson Scott. She’d even had a stupid teenage crush on him. What she used to see in him, she didn’t have a clue. Well… He’d always been there for her. He’d been the one she’d turned to when she’d had her first kiss, and her first broken heart. She’d been too embarrassed to confide in Richie. And Jenny, well, by the time Laura had her first kiss at sixteen, teenage sweethearts Jenny and Rob had already met and fallen in love. Huh, Laura had always been a lousy judge of character by the looks of things.

‘You think Richie or your parents have sent me here? Why? To tell them what you’re up to?’ After placing the notebook and pen on the edge of the reception desk, Jackson rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.

‘You’re laughing at me.’ Crossing her arms again, Laura leaned against the desk.

‘I’m not laughing at you.’ Despite trying to keep a straight face, Jackson’s mouth quivered.

‘You are.’ Laura took a deep breath. She could see it in his eyes.

‘Okay, okay. I am, but can you blame me? You seriously think your family has sent me round as a spy? How would that even work? You think they bought up the house next door and forced me to move in just so I could keep tabs on their daughter?’ Jackson raised his eyebrows.

‘No, of course not.’ How stupid did he think she was? ‘It’s obvious that they just didn’t tell me you lived in Meadowfield on purpose. They must have been so relieved when I told them I’d put an offer in on Pennycress and not on any of the other places I was looking at.’ She shook her head. ‘What would they have done then? Ha, probably have tried to put me off the idea of running an inn all together.’

‘Well, you’re wrong. They didn’t put me up to this. They haven’t asked me to spy on you. Jeez, I’ve not even seen Richie since I moved and…’ Jackson let out a small sigh. ‘And I bet that’s why I didn’t get your parents’ usual Christmas card: I forgot to tell them I was moving too.’

Laura watched as he swapped the basket to the other hand. Had she misjudged him? Jumped to the wrong conclusion because of how her parents were making her feel?

‘I know your parents are overprotective and all, especially now you’re single, but still, it would seem a little extreme to have someone follow you around.’

Feeling a blush course up her neck, Laura looked down. ‘Richie told you my marriage was over?’

‘Richie told me you left that eejit, yes.’

‘I thought he liked Harry.’ Laura frowned.

‘He does. It’s me that calls him an eejit.’ Jackson gave a quick grin, mischief lighting his blue eyes.

‘Huh.’ Laura nodded slowly, her anger suddenly seeping away.

‘Do you believe me now?’

‘I guess.’ Laura shrugged. But if her parents really hadn’t orchestrated this whole situation, then she’d literally just moved in next door to Jackson. What were the chances of that? ‘So, this is just some crazy coincidence?’

‘It seems to be, yes.’ Jackson looked down at the basket before holding it out towards her. ‘And this is the real reason I stopped by, to welcome my new neighbour with a food hamper.’

‘Thanks.’ Mumbling, Laura stepped forward and took the basket, which was heavier than Jackson had made it look, before placing it on the counter. ‘Sorry about?—’

‘No need to apologise.’ Taking a step towards her, Jackson held his arms out. ‘Does Richie’s sis still have a hug for me?’

‘Haha, always.’ Sinking into Jackson’s bear hug, she wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the familiar earthy aftershave. He’d not changed in that department then. His hugs were still the best. Stepping back from the embrace, Laura shrugged. ‘Sorry again for jumping to conclusions – and thanks for the hamper.’

‘No worries.’ Nodding, Jackson walked towards the front door, pausing before stepping outside. He indicated the fallen plaster. ‘I can pop by and take a look at that for you, if you like? I’m on shift this afternoon, but I’m free tomorrow morning.’

‘It’s all under control. Thanks.’

‘Okay.’ Frowning, Jackson held his hand up in a wave. ‘See you around then.’

After watching him walk down the garden path, she shut the door firmly behind him before making her way across to the reception desk and sinking her chin to her elbows. However nice it was to see Jackson again, this had been her new start and with him living next door – next door! – how was she supposed to assert her independence and show the world she was a capable adult, with him right there breathing down her neck? How was she supposed to prove herself to her parents? To Richie? To Jenny?

She glanced back at the door. To Harry?

Everyone would just think Jackson was helping her. They still wouldn’t believe in her. And she needed that. After the divorce and being forced to move back into her parents’ house, after her world falling apart, she needed people to see her for who she really was again. She’d had enough of the pity, of the treading on eggshells; she was ready to be herself again, to build herself back up. To be better, to show everyone she could do it, that she didn’t need to rely on others. On anyone.

But Jackson was here. And, by suggesting he pop by to fix the plaster, he was already offering to help.

Forcing herself to open the basket, she had to admit the aroma of freshly baked food was enticing at least, and a definite plus of having a chef as your neighbour. She rooted through the basket, pulling out and lining up the various home-baked gifts. Still, all the lavender shortbread or cheese and jalapeno rolls in the world wouldn’t make up for the fact that her dream of a fresh start away from anyone and everyone she knew had been crushed.