Lovely Little Things in Pretty Beach : A magical feel-good romance book to escape with in summer 2021.

by Polly Babbington

  ‘You’re getting the right feeling,’ Lulu replied. ‘I hadn’t thought this all through properly.’

  Larry looked at his watch and then over at John who was looking out the window and out to sea. ‘We’ve got time to put this together haven’t we, John? I’ve already done it once and taken it apart again. Shouldn’t take us more than half an hour.’

  Lulu beamed. ‘Really? Thank you so much! That’s very kind of you. I would be extremely grateful.’

  ‘Ahh, well I’m from Pretty Beach, lass, once you’ve lived here it never leaves you - the Pretty Beach way, that is. Help someone out and it will come back tenfold. It’s the way I’ve done business for nearly fifty years and it’s done me well.’

  Lulu smiled. ‘How about a nice cup of tea and a chocolate croissant after your work?’

  John put his phone in his pocket and smiled. ‘Done.’

  Half an hour later, with cups of tea and chocolate croissants, the two men were sitting on two camping chairs in the bedroom and Lulu was looking at her enormous new bed. It fitted the room beautifully, the brass contrasting against the freshly painted white walls and stripped timber floor.

  Lulu sat next to them on the floor sipping her tea and thinking about her bedlinen collection, and knew exactly what was going on the bed. A heavy linen duvet cover, thick white throw, and barely there blush pink dress cushions. All she needed now were some curtains and life would be good. Curtains and perhaps a man with honey skin tucked up cosily in her new bed.

  29

  Next on the agenda was putting up the new white curtains in her bedroom, pulling off wallpaper in the downstairs back hallway, and mowing the lawn. Seafolly House was a never-ending battle and one Lulu didn’t want to lose.

  Lulu struggled with the ladder dragging it into the bedroom, placed it in the middle of the room, and looked up at the two huge windows and old brass poles above. After putting all ideas of thick, heavy hand-made drapes out of her mind because of the cost, she’d ordered two pairs of white blackout curtains with eyelets from the internet and had hoped that the eyelets were going to fit over the thick old-fashioned poles. Each curtain was edged with beautiful tassels and when they’d arrived and she’d pulled them dubiously out of the packet, she had been shocked at the quality for what she’d paid.

  Half an hour later, Lulu dragged the ladder out of the way and stood back with her hands on her hips. Everything was slowly but surely coming together. The curtains made a huge difference, softening and framing all in one go. Their delicate tasselled edges were pulled back behind huge old-fashioned faded brass tie-back knobs, they pooled into a glorious heap on the timber floor, and somehow, they framed the blue of the sea in the distance beyond.

  ‘Wow, Mabel! Finally, we have an actual set of windows with real curtains on them. Progress! Whatever next? We might even have a sitting room and a sofa one of these days too. Wouldn’t that be monumental?’

  Making a cup of tea before starting her next job, with the mug of tea in her hand, Lulu walked down to the end of the garden, through the gate to the shingle and sat on the old chair at the top of the beach. Thick white clouds moved quickly across the sky, rays of sunshine danced here and there, and in the distance, she could see boats bobbing up and down on their way out to sea.

  Lulu got out her phone. Still nothing from Ollie and she’d still done nothing herself. It was as if she was in limbo, not really sure what to do. Even with Lottie’s enthusiasm on the Ollie and the kiss situation, Willow’s cautionary tone kept popping into her mind. Did she really want to jump into this? Did he or did he not have a girlfriend? Was he a player?

  Opening the search bar she typed in Ollie Cavendish, found nothing new, and put Ollie Cavendish and Cressida in. There were definitely pictures of them together but none of them said they were an item. Lulu typed in Cressida and Facebook and within two seconds she was scrolling through, looking at photos of Cressida skiing in Verbier, Cressida on holiday with a huge sun hat, Cressida on a boat on the Thames in a tiny frilly dress. A couple of pictures of her with Ollie but nowhere was he tagged. It didn’t seem like they were an item, but he was certainly involved somehow, that much was obvious. Friends with benefits? Did people even actually do that in real life?

  Lulu sighed and looked down at her paint-covered jeans and the pink rubber gloves with the fur attached.

  What am I even doing thinking about this? Asking myself if he’s a player? I’m not ready or up for this.

  As she finished her cup of tea and stroked Mabel, her mind did a complete about-turn and she decided that she would leave the Ollie thing. Even if he messaged her she was going to say thanks but no thanks. The last thing she needed was the angst of it all.

  She’d had enough of that the last year with Fenton. Enough of wondering why she wasn’t good enough. Enough of being left on the scrap heap. No, she wasn't prepared to put herself out there. Wasn’t prepared to be vulnerable. And why bother when she had so much on her plate? Even if it did mean getting old and lonely in a dusty old house by the sea and being eaten by rats.

  Strolling back up towards the house and smiling to herself that by the end of the day the whole top section of lawn might be mowed and actually below waist level, she heard the front doorbell and then a voice shouting out hello.

  Making her way across the terrace, down the side of the house, through the gate beside the garage and onto the driveway, she just caught sight of a delivery driver walking around the side of a bright red van.

  ‘Helloooo! Sorry I was out the back. What can I do for you?’ Lulu asked.

  The man turned around and sighed. ‘Alright love. Oh good, you’re in. Yeah, hang on a minute, I’ve got a parcel for you here and I need a signature for it. I was just about to leave you a card.’

  Lulu frowned. No doubt Willow had been sitting on the internet, bored in St Barts, and had felt sorry for her again. The man opened the back of the van, leant in and slid a large cardboard box towards him. ‘Lulu Drinkwater, right?’

  Lulu looked at the branded Fortnum’s box and frowned. Willow knew how much she loved her Fortnum’s tea. She must have had some sent down. How sweet. ‘Yep. That’s me, the one and only.’

  The delivery driver held up a screen for Lulu’s signature. ‘Well, there you go, love. Feels like this is something a bit special. My wife would be green with envy. Every year at Christmas she treats herself to something from Fortnum’s. Can’t say I’m complaining. It’s always delicious,’ he said, passing Lulu the huge box.

  Two minutes later the red van had driven off and Lulu was just about able to look over the top as she carried it across the drive and made her way to the porch. Putting the box down on the bench on the left-hand side, she read through the address. It seemed weird seeing herself addressed as Miss. She had been Mrs for so long. It was almost as if it was addressed to someone else. Someone starting a new life.

  Oh yes, that’s me. She thought with a wry look on her face.

  Lulu opened the front door, walked into the kitchen and put the box on the table when her phone pinged. Seeing the name flash across the top of her phone she jumped up making Mabel bark, she squeezed her hands into tight balls.

  Yesssssss!

  Lulu abandoned the Fortnum’s box in the middle of the kitchen table, leant on the worktop, and opened the text.

  Hey! How are you? Thank you for the fish and chips and the bit at the end ;) I hope you like the delivery. Tea for your pot. Basket for your bike. Dinner when I get back?

  ‘Yes, Mabel! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes, to dinner, yes to tea, yes to my bike. Yes, to the bit at the end! Yes, to everything,’ Lulu said and started dancing around the kitchen. ‘Oh. My. God. Mabel. Yeehaw!’ Lulu whooped and holding her head up to the ceiling continued, ‘Whoever you are up there looking down on me. Mum, Grandma Elizabeth. Thank you. I needed this.’

  Lulu pulled the box open and delighted in the gorgeous blue interior. Inside, a Hunter picnic basket stuffed with straw held beautiful tins of all sorts of teas and variou
s special things.

  Lulu couldn’t believe Ollie had remembered she loved Fortnum's tea. She’d joked with him when they’d shared a cup of tea down at the end of the garden but there had been no mention of it since then. It’s like he had hit the nail on the head. The parcel delivery had made her feel really special.

  She pulled out tin after tin. It must have cost a fortune. Ceylon tea, her favourite Celebration blend, a bottle of vintage champagne, chocolate biscuits in opulent tubes, lovely jars of preserves. Sighing, Lulu gazed at the beautiful goods all over the table and the basket itself. So thoughtful and Ollie was right, the basket was just right for the back of her bike.

  Now to answer the text. He must have had confirmation from the delivery company pretty much as soon as she’d walked in the door with the huge box.

  After sitting there for a good ten minutes Lulu decided to just be herself in response to his message. She would not try to be cool, and not be the opposite and over the top either.

  Hi, Ollie. Thank you very much for the basket of goodies. What a treat! As for dinner, I would absolutely love to. Let me know when you’re free. Lulu x

  Lulu debated on whether or not to add the kiss, then she looked at the hamper in front of her, thought about diving headfirst into the honey and added one. Really, she wanted to add six.

  30

  The next day Lulu woke up to startlingly bright light beaming through the windows and reflecting on all the white paint around her new bedroom. After deliberating the night before on whether or not to move into the bedroom right away or wait until she had everything perfectly in place, she had looked at the huge bed and luxury mattress and decided that the lack of bedside tables and curtains paled into insignificance next to the night of blissful sleep the gigantic opulent mattress offered.

  Cleaning up two old chairs that had been neatly stacked up in the garage near the fridge, Lulu had placed them either side of the huge bed, set up the large lamps courtesy of Larry and Cynthia on top, and dressed the bed with gorgeous Lovely Little Things linens.

  After a long soak in a bubble-filled, candlelit bath with a book and a box of After Eights, Lulu had tucked herself up in bed in white cotton pyjamas, turned the light off early, and had slept properly for the first time in well over a year.

  Lulu turned on her side, stroked Mabel in the little bed beside her, and looked at the tiny room opposite. With shelving and clothes rails all the way around and wearing a fresh coat of paint, Lulu was, after too long living out of a suitcase, close to having a wardrobe again. A walk-in wardrobe and a whole room full of shelving for her shoes. Bliss. Life goals.

  Picking up her phone from the chair beside her bed, Lulu checked the time and calculated that she just had enough time to move all her shoes into the little walk-in wardrobe room before she got ready for work. Still no reply from Ollie. Who even did that? Kiss someone on the doorstep, go to all the trouble of sending a fancy gift and then go silent? Grrr. Lulu had been checking her phone for what seemed like every thirty seconds since she’d brought in the delivery from the street.

  After a cup of tea, two slices of Marmite on toast, and many trips up and down the stairs, her arms piled high with boxes, Lulu started to unpack her shoes. Every single time she opened a box she smiled. Each pair of shoes was lovingly cared for and despite many of them having been bought by Fenton as gifts for birthdays and Christmases, her lovely shoes always cheered her up. Loafers handmade in Italy, sky-high Jimmy Choos, ballet flats from Chanel, espadrilles from Spain, and Manolos to make even the most avid shoe collector go green. Even Lulu’s trainers were highly researched, carefully invested in, and meticulously cared for. No one did shoes and accessories like Lulu Drinkwater and it showed.

  With a long-standing love affair with shoes, having bought her first pair of investment heels from Italy when she was still in school, Lulu wore high heels regularly, elevating her eye level by a decent three inches on every occasion that she could.

  An hour later, her shoes were in place and arranged in order of heel height, colour, and occasion and her life suddenly felt on the up. Everything felt better as the bringing in of the shoes had seemed, somehow, to signify that not only had Lulu survived but also that she could be and would be okay.

  Lulu ran a very shallow bath, hopped in, and thought about how far she had come since the day she had pulled up outside Seafolly House when she had very nearly put the car into reverse and turned around and driven off the top of the cliff. Now she had, what she was lovingly going to refer to as a dressing room, a hand-painted kitchen which looked as if it had stepped out of the pages of Dorset Lifestyle Magazine and a very deep, very opulent bathtub next to a fire with a view out over the sea. Life could be worse.

  As she kept her left hand outside of the bath and sloshed water over her body, she chuckled at how focusing on things to be grateful for blotted out all the rest. The wasp’s nest outside getting bigger by the day, the mould and damp in the sitting room, the falling down fence at the back, the discovery of rats, the hole in the roof, waist-high weeds, and a large proportion of the shingling at the front of the house hanging on for dear life.

  With an emperor size bed, soft linen sheets, Lovely Little Things scented candles dotted here and there, and a room for her shoes, all that ugly stuff could be put to the back of her mind. For now.

  After luxuriating in walking into the dressing room, Lulu stood in bare feet and a towel and chose her outfit for work. Sticking to the strict guidelines, she chose cream, ankle-length slim-fitting trousers, a grey silk shirt, fitted jacket, and tied a narrow cream silk scarf into her ponytail. Selecting a pair of grey scalloped edge pumps Fenton had presented her with as an apology for staying in France two weeks more than he’d said he would (and Lulu later finding out that he wasn't there alone), Lulu hot-footed it down the stairs and was ready to head to the hotel.

  Precisely eight hours later and a surprisingly quiet day in the hotel, where she’d also been called in on a meeting discussing a small exclusive wedding quote for later in the year, Lulu walked out of the hotel and made her way to the laneway.

  Pushing the door open to the bakery, the little bell tinkled overhead, and Holly was standing alone behind the counter clearing cakes from the display unit and spraying down the sides.

  ‘Hello, lovely. I’ve been waiting for you to pop in again. I was just thinking about your Grandma Elizabeth the other day. Ahh. The good old days. I don’t suppose you remember it. She was so good to me when mum and I arrived in Pretty Beach with nothing.’

  Lulu’s face broke into a smile. ‘Yeah. I can just about remember. She loved coming down to the laneway with her basket and doing her shopping. Long before the days of the out-of-town shopping centre.’

  ‘Yep. Goodness, we had everything right here in the laneway in those days. Funny how it all changes. Although some of it is for the better. We have some lovely little places here now.’ Holly smiled.

  ‘Yes. We do. I love the memory of those days though.’

  ‘What about you? What plans have you got for the kiosk down behind the passage?’ Holly asked.

  ‘I’m thinking about it and cooking up a few plans but I’ve been so busy.’

  Holly rubbed her forehead. ‘Not that you’re asking my advice, but I’d get it sorted before the season. All your bits and bobs will walk out the door. The giftware in the book shop flies out the door when the tourists are in town. Everyone has a bit of money in their pocket and treats themselves to something or other. Money for old rope. A darned sight easier than baking millions of loaves of bread at three in the morning.’ Holly laughed.

  ‘Yeah. I guess there is that. I’ve just got the online store back up and running and it’s slowly trickling in again. And a new line of candles which has taken off.’

  ‘Well, get onto it. Anyway, what can I get you, buns?’

  ‘I thought I would have little to no chance of getting cinnamon buns at this time of day.’

  ‘You don’t forget. Normally you’d be corr
ect but I kept a bag back for Suntanned Pete and then he got called in to babysit and didn't make it.’

  ‘That would be great, thank you. I’ll have a loaf of whatever you’ve got left too,’ Lulu called out as Holly walked out to the back.

  ‘Any other exciting news going on in your life?’ Holly asked, opening her eyes wide.

  Lulu started smiling and looked to the side. ‘No. Nothing at all.’

  Holly tried to frown, but her frozen forehead and the tight muscles between her eyebrows stayed where they were. ‘You don’t have any news to tell me?’

  Lulu laughed. ‘I do not believe it! How on earth do you know? God, nothing has changed in this town. You know everything that goes on! How? How, tell me?’

  ‘Miss Lulu Drinkwater. How long have you known me? Actually, don’t answer that. It’s way too long now. You can’t get anything past me. So, what happens next? How was it?’

  Lulu giggled. ‘It was amazing. He’s asked me to go out to dinner.’

  ‘Lovely. You deserve something nice. I’m not surprised, though. Just look at you.’

  Lulu flushed and waved her hand. ‘Well, come on then. I’ve done my side of the bargain. You must have some gossip about the Cavendish family, surely?’

  Holly shook her head slowly and put her hand on her hip. ‘Hmm. I’ve got to know Atlanta in the last few years. She’s one very hard worker. I think that’s why we get on. In all honesty, I don’t know that much about the family, although it pains me to say that. Don’t tell anyone else I admitted that though.’

  ‘Oh, well at least there’s nothing bad to report.’

  ‘Not that I know of. Just be careful, Lulu, after everything you’ve been through.’

  ‘I will,’ Lulu said, as she said goodbye and the bakery door closed behind her she wondered if maybe erring on the side of caution might be a good idea.