The Little Cafe at Clover Cove: a heartwarming romance series set on the beautiful west coast of Ireland

by Maggie Finn

And so did the media, it seemed. Three newspapers wanting interviews and a film crew from, yes, RTE One recording a feature about the ‘miracle of Clover Cove’. That was stretching it, thought Molly, but she was happy they wanted to tell Ireland her story.

  ‘I told you it’d be a success,’ said Audra, hugging her. ‘Obviously, I bring you luck.’

  ‘Father Declan said the same thing,’ smiled Molly. ‘He was claiming a slightly higher power.’

  ‘He could be right. But God helps those who help themselves.’

  ‘Declan said that too.’

  Audra pulled her phone from inside her kaftan and waggled it.

  ‘I’m pretty sure there was someone else working behind the scenes too.’

  ‘What? Raff?’

  Audra laughed. ‘He’s a lovely man, but no.’ She handed Molly the phone. ‘Take a look,’ she said.

  Bewildered, Molly scrolled through the search results. ‘Molly’s Café: Ireland’s hidden secret’, ‘Molly’s makes “The Coast” delicious’, ‘Clover Cove setting close to perfect.’ There were dozens and dozens of entries on travel websites, blogs and forums. She looked up at Audra in amazement.

  ‘This is why they all came?’

  Audra nodded.

  ‘Pretty much all of them. Three tour parties and hundreds of independent travellers. The tour guide from Cork said he’s going to put Molly’s Café on his itinerary.’

  ‘But where did it all come from?’

  Audra pointed at the screen with one painted nail.

  ‘Look at the poster names: Sean567, SecretSurfer, CakeLoverSean.’

  ‘Sean? Sean did all this?’

  Audra grinned.

  ‘I told you TecWest were impressive. You should get them to revamp the café.’

  Molly could feel her stomach flip-flopping: happiness fighting with a sinking sense of loss. Sean. He had done all this, but she had sent him away.

  ‘But why, Mam? I told him to get lost.’

  ‘Clearly he didn’t listen.’

  ‘Oh Ma, what have I done?’ Molly wailed, ‘He was perfect and now he’s gone.’

  Audra’s bracelets jangled as she raised a hand to shade her eyes.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that.’

  She nodded toward the beach.

  Molly looked. A figure was just walking out of the surf.

  ‘Is it him?’

  ‘I may have meddled a little.’

  She grabbed Audra and hugged her. ‘Oh Ma, I love you!’

  ‘I think maybe you should go and say that to him.’

  But Molly was already running. Past the tables, past the old sail loft and past Tessa’s studio, down the slip and onto the beach, kicking off her shoes and sprinting across the sand. He’s here, he’s here! She saw Sean drop his surfboard and unzip his wetsuit, peeling it down. And then she was running into the sea, soaking herself again, throwing her arms around him and he was holding her tight.

  ‘I was wrong,’ she whispered. ‘I was wrong. Don’t go.’

  ‘I was wrong too,’ said Sean. ‘I should never have left.’

  ‘But you’re here now.’

  ‘I’m here now.’

  Slowly, Sean bent his head, bringing his smiling mouth down to hers. When he finally pulled away, Molly touched a finger against her tingling lips.

  ‘Oh wow,’ she said.

  ‘Wow yourself,’ laughed Sean, pulling her closer.

  ‘Hey! You’re all wet,’ said Molly.

  ‘I am,’ said Sean, bending for another kiss. ‘Better get used to it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  For Molly, the mornings were still the best. She stood outside the café, cupping a mug of tea and looking out to sea. The surf was ‘jacking’, she thought – that meant the waves were extra big – or was it ‘macking’? She smiled to herself.

  Two weeks ago, she had never heard either term. She was still learning, and that was fine: she had learnt a lot over the past month. The power of the word-of-mouth, for one. Sean’s online campaign had, in a matter of days, done what two years of baking had failed to do: it had brought people to Molly’s Café – and to Clover Cove.

  Things, she had to admit, were going pretty well. The café was busy; not crazy, but much, much better. The knock-on effect of the Clover Cove Feast was that most if not all of those visitors had written glowing online reviews about that special day, which led to more people wanting to see this a piece of undiscovered Ireland; they came, they tasted the pastries and the salads and the sandwiches and they, in turn, told their friends in real life and in cyberspace. A trickle was turning into a steady flow, so much so that they’d had to put some of Father Dec’s tables outside permanently; the tourists loved the al fresco experience. Assuming it didn’t rain.

  Of course, then they could duck into Tessa’s gallery – her sales were up – or into Moira’s bookshop or the hairdressers or the pub, there was even talk of re-opening the old butchers as a deli. Clover Cove was beginning to come alive.

  Miguel was glowing too: he’d had a fresh paint-job to incorporate the new Molly’s Café logo, just like in Sean’s mock-up. Mr Bower at the bank had advised her that it was a business expense and could be written down against tax: something like that anyway. Mr Bower had been very helpful since the feast. Molly thought it might have been the cakes, but perhaps Ryan had been right: banks became helpful when they saw a profit. And the support of WestTec, one of the area’s most booming businesses, couldn’t hurt either. Either way, Molly had felt more love and less pressure, which was all she had wanted. It would be hard work, but it felt like she was moving forward. Paddling, perhaps, but there was a chance she might catch another wave.

  ‘Hey there,’ Sean kissed her neck, holding her from behind.

  ‘Ewww!’ she said pushing him away. ‘You smell like seaweed.’

  ‘That’s my scent. I’m thinking of selling it online.’

  Molly turned to embrace him, holding him tight. He was flying back to London tomorrow. He had been working there three days a week, supporting Caroline while she set up the Soho office; although according to Sean, his sister was thriving in England. ‘She’s loving having new people to boss about,’ was how he put it. She’d already been on an excursion to Devon for the surf. Sean anticipated being back running the Kilmara office by the end of the month. Which left them… well, Molly didn’t know exactly where it left them. But she found that she rather liked that, not knowing. And she certainly loved the idea of heading out into the great wide unknown with Sean by her side.

  And not just Sean: all her friends, too. Another of the things Molly had learned over the past few weeks was how amazing people could be when your back was against the wall. Clover Cove had come out fighting – and they’d done it all for her.

  ‘You know, I used to think you were a postman,’ said Sean.

  ‘WHAT?’

  Sean chuckled. ‘It’s true. When I first saw you from out there on the waves, all I could see was you getting in Miguel at the crack of dawn; he is an old post van after all. I thought you were zipping about delivering letters and parcels.’

  ‘Well I thought you were a seal,’ said Molly. ‘Or a mermaid.’

  Her turned to kiss her.

  ‘Okay, merman,’ said Molly, blushing.

  ‘Hey, talking of parcels,’ said Sean, ‘You should write a cookbook.’

  ‘What? Where did that come from?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking: if Marcus Colfer can make a million from pinching your recipes, I don’t see why we shouldn’t give the reading public the real thing.’

  Molly had told Sean all about her relationship with Marcus – as well as his job offer – and Sean had simply hugged her and said ‘I’m sorry that he hurt you, but I’m glad it happened, because without his selfishness, you wouldn’t be here. And that doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  Molly loved how Sean said things like that. She kissed him again.

  ‘I do like the idea of a Molly’s Café Cookbook,
’ she said, ‘But I can’t write to save my life.’

  Sean held up a finger, as if he’d been expecting that exact response.

  ‘You don’t need to. You provide the recipes, we’ll get Tessa to illustrate it, Danny can write some poetic stuff and I’ll design it. It will be amazing.’

  Molly looked up at him and smiled. Somehow she knew he’d have the answer and somehow she knew he was right: it would be amazing.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, pulling him in tight. ‘Yes to everything.’

  Thanks for reading Clover Cove – I hope you enjoyed it!

  If you’d like to be kept up to date on my newest Clover Cove releases and happenings in Clover Cove, sign up for the Clover Cove newsletter. You’ll also get access to the Maggie Finn members area where you’ll find exclusive content such as interviews and extracts. Click here to subscribe.

  You may also enjoy the first book in the Clover Cove series, ‘Love Comes to Clover Cove’, which can be found here.

  And the second book in the series, ‘A Secret in Clover Cove’ can be found here.

  The next book in the most romantic series in all Ireland is ‘Christmas in Clover Cove’.

  Noah is too handsome to be a policeman, everyone says so. With his dark eyes and chiselled cheekbones, he should have been a model or a singer. But Hollywood’s loss is Clover Cove’s gain and Noah loves his job, keeping the quirky residents of Kiln County safe and happy. But Noah has a secret, something even his legendary charm and tact cannot overcome – and when beautiful American Eliza arrives, he is swept off his feet and into a tangled love story that threatens to turn his world upside down. Is Eliza a Christmas gift or a festive turkey? And can the magic of the season fix Noah’s broken heart?

  Coming soon! But you can get a sneak peak by signing up for Maggie Finn’s VIP mailing list by clicking here.

  Thanks for reading! Maggie x