The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club

by Lynsey James

  No pressure then.

  Chapter 5

  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

  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, b
y 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.