Winter at Pretty Beach
Page 1
Author
Hi, I’m Polly Babbington and I love to write.
I live with my husband and family in a beautiful old Edwardian house by the sea, with white French windows, a huge old tree out the back and a Summer House right down the end of the garden where I spend long days spinning stories and drinking tea.
I began writing years ago working for various online publications, my work published worldwide and started writing and publishing books not long after, juggling the stories in my head with bringing up babies.
These days I potter around the house writing, taking care of my family, and plotting my next feel-good romance stories, ready to launch them out into the world to my lovely readers.
I also love flowers, taking photos, cooking, walking in the woods, sitting on the beach, pottering with things in the house and love nothing better after a day of writing than an evening gardening with a drink.
You’ll find me on my days off lazing in the hammock under the fruit tree, or cosy on the sofa next to the fire, with a cup of tea and a new book.
We live in a sweet little village complete with a gorgeous old cricket pitch, village green with a few lovely old pubs.
Follow Polly on Instagram and Facebook @PollyBabbingtonwrites
PollyBabbington.com
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CONTENT
Author
CONTENT
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
A Pretty Beach Christmas
Author’s Notes
Be part of Polly’s World!
Winter
at
Pretty Beach
Polly Babbington
Copyright
© Copyright 2020 Polly Babbington
Pretty Beach Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Sallie Broadchurch opened up the French doors of the Boat House, stepped out into the icy air, and looked out across Pretty Beach. Sparkling frost topped the edges of the jetty, glinted from the masts of the boats and shimmered off the roof of the boathouse cottage next door.
‘Ben, come here! I think it’s coming, just like we wanted,’ she called out from the deck.
‘What’s coming?’ Ben called back from the hallway as he tidied up his work bag and put his pilot’s hat back on the hook.
‘Come and look out here.’ Sallie stood on the tiny little deck in the cold air and looked out over the rooftops of Pretty Beach, her eyes taking in the thick, heavy, grey-white clouds and the silvery rays of light poking through the gaps in the clouds.
‘It’s on the way, I can feel it. Snow, Ben, snow. I can’t wait. I love it!’ She clasped her hands together and leant onto the railing looking out to the sea and the lighthouse beyond.
‘The longer I’m with you the crazier you get,’ Ben said, shaking his head and blowing warm air onto his hands and heading back in.
‘Well, I’m no spring chicken, and the older I’m getting the crazier I am, so you’ve lots of fun ahead of you! You knew that when you begged me to meet you at the top of the aisle,’ Sallie said, winking then laughed and stood there taking in huge lungfuls of the crisp, cold, air.
‘I’m so excited, the first snowfall is magical - brrr it’s freezing though.’ She rubbed her hands up and down on her arms and came inside, closing the doors and putting the throw she’d pulled around her shoulders back on the sofa. Ben was examining his phone - he had quite the obsession with weather maps, something to do with being a pilot she assumed.
‘You’re actually correct Sals. This storm’s really coming in thick and fast. Maybe you really can feel snow.’ He looked concerned. ‘We haven’t had a big storm here for a long time, the last one caused loads of damage - the school closed, the road in was blocked by fallen cables and all the flights were cancelled. I had to dig a path out to the laneway just to go out and get bread.’
She looked back at him as he stood there studying his phone and expanding it so he could further see the map. Sallie didn’t like that side of snow - she preferred to focus on the fluffy, pretty, sparkly bit, where she wrapped up in big scarves, boots and mittens, made soup and baked bread and sausage rolls.
‘I’d better go down and check on the planes, make sure everything is secure. I hope the marquee survives - if it’s a heavy snowfall the weight on the top of that could be a problem.’
Trust Ben to be all pragmatic and business-like. Here she was fantasising about snow on the beach, the little boats bobbing around topped in white, hot chocolate and marshmallows by the fire and which cosy jumper she would wrap up in, and Ben was thinking about the actual real-life consequences of it all.
He was right though; they would need to walk over and check on the Orangery - but first she was going to pop some of her cheesy sausage rolls into the oven, make herself a nice cup of tea and sit down and plan what online yoga class she was going to take that night. A yin yoga class, rugged up indoors with candles by the fire and a snowstorm outside with a view out over a snowy Pretty Beach. What a combination - snow, wine, yoga and the beach.
Chapter 2
Sallie sat with her marshmallow-topped hot chocolate at one of the little tables in Maisy’s cafe, jingled the play keys on the top of Ottilie’s high chair and looked over at Nina.
‘According to Ben and his weather reports, by this time tomorrow the whole of Pretty Beach is going to be blanketed in a layer of white,’ Sallie said excitedly.
‘I hope the trains are still running, or I won’t be going in to work.’ Nina said and started coughing. She’d had an irritating wheezy cough for a few weeks and wasn’t sounding great.
‘By the sounds of you maybe that’s a good thing. Have you had that checked out?’ Sallie replied, a furrow between her eyebrows.
‘I feel fine, so no. In fact, I’m f
eeling good, it’s just a bit of a tickle - the start of Winter and all that.’
Sallie looked doubtful but didn’t say anything further on the subject. Ottilie held up the keys and launched them over the table where they landed deftly on the counter at the end.
‘She’s quite the little athlete already. I presume you’ve got her signed up and on the waiting list for gymnastics, ballet and the like?’ Sallie said and laughed as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.
‘Not quite yet, that starts later. At this stage it’s baby swimming lessons, music with mama and baby massage,’ Nina chuckled.
It was a bit of a standing joke between them - Ottilie was the most prepared infant on the planet and nothing had been overlooked. Nina had put down a deposit for her at the prep school in Newport Reef before she was even born, had set up a children’s bank account and everything from her nutrition to her mental health was documented and recorded in a digital folder online enabling Nina to access it wherever and whenever she needed to. She’d also started the ball rolling on officially assigning Tillie’s legal guardian.
The door of the cafe rattled noisily in the wind and the awning outside looked like it was about to take off as the sky became darker and the ocean crashed onto the beach. They looked on from the warmth of the bustling little cafe.
‘Did you see that post on the Pretty Beach Community Page?’ Nina asked.
‘No, I’ve hardly looked at my phone these last few days; I’ve been up to my eyes in admin.’
‘The last time a snowstorm hit Pretty Beach one of the public jetties collapsed and had to be rebuilt, and Roy Johnson from the council fell over on the ice and broke his collarbone,’ Nina said.
‘You read it all on there, don’t you?’ Sallie replied and rolled her eyes.
‘That’s not all. While the snow was coming down, shock horror, Nel’s baby pink cruiser bike was stolen out of the shed,’ Nina chuckled and dipped a marshmallow into her hot chocolate.
‘You’re kidding me. That’s terrible, we’ll need a squad car down here if anything like that happens again.’ They both smiled - it still made them both laugh when they saw the local crime reports. Things that were an everyday occurrence in Freshlea made the news in Pretty Beach.
Ottilie started to whinge and Nina took a tiny little plastic container out of her bag and fed her baby rice with organic fruit. Ottilie spat it out in protest.
‘Going well on the nutrition front then?’ Sallie said and they both laughed.
‘She refuses to eat it, she’s so funny,’ Nina said as they both looked at Tillie sitting in the high chair with pale green baby rice around her mouth and on her bib. She stuck her fist in her mouth as if to say she’d rather eat that than the organic fruit.
The little tinkly bell on the cafe door sounded as it opened and icy air blasted through as Suntanned Pete walked in, his larger than life frame seeming to fill up the little cafe all at once. Rugged up in a huge scarf, beanie and boots he looked even bigger than he normally did. Sallie thought it was the first time she’d ever seen him in anything but shorts - it must be cold. He strode over to chat to them. Pete and Nina had become the most unusual of friends, bonding over a mutual love of birdwatching. He kissed them both on the cheek and started playing with Tillie.
‘Very cold out there, ladies. It’s coming in thick and fast. You’re all good with your heating and firewood? You’ll need to check it in case we get snowed in like last time. I just walked past your place, Nina. I’ll take the hanging baskets down on my way home if you like - doubt they’ll stay there if the wind is going to be like they say it is.’
‘I checked my firewood last week actually and I’ve got loads. Thanks, that would be great if you can take down those baskets.’ Nina looked up at Pete and smiled.
‘You’ll have to stay in for a few days Pete, how will you cope?’ They all chuckled, knowing that Pete suffered withdrawal symptoms if he couldn’t get to go out on his boat.
Nina started to get Ottilie’s baby pink pram suit out of her bag and packed her toys away.
‘Well I'd better get going and get this little one home then,’ she said, as a bin rolled around on the floor outside in the wind and someone getting out of a car was knocked back as they walked along the street. Just as Nina was getting up from the table, Nel walked in with her reusable coffee mug in hand, dressed in her bus uniform. Sallie got up from the table to say hello.
‘Hey Nel, how are you? Don’t usually see you in here at this time of day.’
‘I know, but I’m stocking up for today - you never know what will happen on the buses when snow is on the way. I’ve got my flask all topped up with hot tea and I’m going to get a hot chocolate in this little baby before I go.’ She held up the pink cup.
‘I guess this is our first real Pretty Beach storm then, Sals. We’ve heard enough about them. Hopefully, no jetties will fall down this time though.’ Nina said.
‘Hopefully not Ben’s or the one next to me,’ Sallie sighed, ‘I can’t wait to see Pretty Beach all white though, everything cosy and inviting.’
‘Where did this love of snow thing come from anyway?’ Nina asked.
‘Don’t know, I’ve just always loved it. Everything quietens, the sounds change, the air deepens. It’s so ethereal and romantic,’ Sallie said wistfully.
‘A bit like you then,’ Nel said, chuckling as she handed her cup over the counter.
‘Funny,’ Sallie replied as she twisted the huge diamond on her finger over and over and continued, ‘Well, the other thing I do when it snows is make my famous cheese sausage rolls, I’m making a batch this morning. Want me to drop some over?’
‘Yep, ooh good, it’s been ages since we’ve had those. If you can still make it down the laneway by then...’ Nina replied, getting up from the table and lifting Tillie out of the high chair.
‘I’ll trudge along and be your personal snowy delivery driver, on foot.’ Sallie said, picking up her coat.
Chapter 3
Wrapped up in a huge coat, scarf, gloves and hat, Sallie walked along the lane to the Orangery. Her hands were freezing and her lips burned as the wind blew against her face. As she walked down past Juliette’s cottage smoke drifted from the chimney, and the first tiny snowflakes feathered down onto the lane. She plodded around to the right and opened the gate; the ground already starting to feel slippery as she carefully walked over to the Orangery.
The doors of the huge old glass building rattled in the wind and the snow began to settle on the window panes as she approached. The Orangery had survived for many years and according to Pete in the last storm it hadn’t even had a broken pane, so she was hoping everything would be okay. Her business plan really couldn’t cope with anything to go wrong with the building as a consequence of the storm. She looked up at it - it had been such hard work to turn around but it was looking fabulous, and it would be even dreamier in the snow.
All the old junk had been pulled out since she’d taken ownership - every single piece of timber had been painstakingly rubbed back and re-painted, the old vines had been pruned, all the dead wood had been taken off and fed and even though it was cold they had started to show signs that they would bloom again. She was hoping that by the time the Summer wedding season came around they would be blooming all across the roof.
The hundreds of baskets hanging from the roof, where Lucia’s dad had grown all manner of things had been taken down and restored. She’d then re-planted them with low maintenance trailing plants and re-hung them all over the Orangery. The overall effect was breathtaking. In the corners, the old orange trees had been pruned and willed back to life and all through the gabled roof Sallie had installed hundreds of tiny cluster lights.
She stood there looking at it all as the first few snowflakes hit the sides of the windows and settled onto the ledges. Ten assorted vintage tables stood at intervals with mismatched vintage chairs all gathered from online auctions and local selling sites. The combination was simple, elegant, and eye-catching.
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She wound the window at the top shut with the old-fashioned manual handle and walked over to each of the window latches, making sure they were attached firmly; if this storm was going to be as bad as they said she was doubtful the Orangery would get through it without any damage.
As she slowly walked around checking for anything that was loose, left open or anything that could fall, wind whistled in under the front door and the baskets swayed backwards and forwards, their hooks creaking eerily while the ocean outside crashed wildly onto the beach. Sallie jumped as a tree branch from one of the old apple trees crashed and banged down onto a side window and its branches moved wildly around in the wind.
She finished checking everything and ensuring that everything was locked down, then moved the outdoor chairs over and next to the wall where it was sheltered and closed the gate. She walked onto the lane and then turned left walking back past the cottages. Juliette, Pretty Beach’s midwife was just parking her car and getting out in her work uniform with her bag, tablet and a coffee in her hand as the wind whirled around and snowflakes landed in her hair. Sallie stopped on the pavement by the gate.
‘Hey, how are you? Weather’s coming in - it’s going to be crazy out here, are you done for the day?’ Sallie asked, stamping her feet on the pavement to keep warm.
‘Just finished all my visits, yes, but we’ve got two ladies close to their dates, so fingers crossed they hold on for the night. Just have to hope no cables fall like last time - that was a nightmare.’ Juliette raised her eyes up and smiled.
‘I don’t envy you having to go out tonight if the weather forecast is right. Ben’s obsessed with the weather apps and says it’s going to be wild.’
‘I know, I just heard the same on the radio whilst I was driving home. Both my ladies are right here in Pretty Beach, and I’m scheduled on with Sandra who’s only over at the wharf, so I think we should be fine,’ she replied as she shut and locked the door of her car.
‘Rightio. Well, I’m on my way back later so shout if you need anything. I’m popping a delivery of cheesy sausage rolls into Nina if you'd like to be on the list?’