Return to Bluebell Hill

by Rebecca Pugh

  As sweet and satisfying as strawberries and cream! This British summertime, get out in the garden with Rebecca Pugh’s sparkling debut novel. Home is where the heart is…

  Jessica McAdams has never belonged anywhere; never truly felt at home. Of course, what did she expect with parents who never made her feel welcome in her own house? Leaving her life in London to return home to the charming country village of Bluebell Hill is harder than she thought. Especially as she never considered she’d be returning under such heart-wrenching circumstances…

  Clearing out the stunning and imposing Bluebell House after her parents’ death is difficult for Jessica—they never had the best relationship and now it’s too late. Yet spending time in the house that was never a home, having afternoon tea with dear old friend Esme—and sharing hot, sizzling kisses with delectable gardener Rueben!—opens Jessica’s eyes to the potential of Bluebell House… Could this big old, beautiful manor really be her forever home? Is Bluebell Hill where her heart is, has always been?

  Jessica soon dares to dream of her very own home with delicious Rueben by her side. But when the deep, dark secret of Bluebell House is unearthed, Jessica’s world is turned upside down…

  Will Jessica ever find where her heart truly lies?

  An emotional tale of self-discovery, taking chances and romance! Rebecca’s unique British voice feels like coming home again and again.

  Return to Bluebell Hill

  Rebecca Pugh

  www.CarinaUK.com

  REBECCA PUGH grew up in the green county of Shropshire, with a mind full of fairy-tales and happy endings. Enchanted by true love and Disney Princesses, she decided that no matter what life threw her way, she’d continue to see the world through a child’s eyes. Through the pages of countless books, her adoration of reading blossomed, and it didn’t take long for her to fall under the spell of hundreds of authors’ words.

  Now, Rebecca’s own story has taken a fairy-tale like turn, and at 22, her dream has come true. With her faithful companions Bonnie the dog, her partner, and her gigantic family by her side, Rebecca is ready to share her stories with readers who enjoy falling in love and losing themselves within beautiful, fictional worlds.

  Rebecca Pugh is the author of women’s fiction and romance, her all-time favourite genres. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a good swoon? Return to Bluebell Hill is her debut novel.

  There are a ton of people who I need to thank in these acknowledgements.

  First of all, my publishers, for giving me that chance. My angel-of-an-editor, for helping me to make the most of that chance. My lovely, lovely blogger and author friends who have shared in my excitement, cheered me on and made me realise that I am so much more than what I ever thought I was. Mum, for being the incredible woman that you are and for making me feel like I’m an incredible woman, too. Shaun, for all of those coffees and all of your love. Bonnie the dog, for keeping me company on the lonely days. My crazy, chaotic family, my wonderful friends, and everyone in-between. Thank you all.

  Mum, who has always been the biggest part of my sparkle, this one’s for you.

  Contents

  Cover

  Blurb

  Title Page

  Author Bio

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Endpages

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Bye-bye, home.

  With her nose squished against the window, Jessica McAdams watched with a heavy heart as the familiar setting of London whooshed by. The busy restaurants, the towering office blocks, the bustling streets … She was going to miss it while she was gone. Her destination wouldn’t hold the same hustle and bustle, the same attraction nor the same excitement… It wouldn’t even come close.

  A small sigh escaped her as it all disappeared, the buildings and streets swapped for trees and green fields.

  She wondered how she was going to get through the next few weeks. Her job in one of London’s most popular publishing houses Partridge & Co. propelled her out of her much-loved apartment and into the busy streets with a spring to her step each morning. She loved it completely; the thrill, the buzz, and the energy that thrummed through the third floor each time she stepped out of the elevator. She was certain that not many people could say that they loved their job as much as she did and actually mean it. Her stomach turned at the thought of abandoning it.

  Her job wasn’t the only thing that she was leaving behind. Her best friend Sarah was another aspect of her life that she didn’t want to leave in London. All of these things made her who she was, but she had to go back. She didn’t have a choice in the matter. It didn’t make her decision any easier to come to terms with though.

  Realising that there was no point in wallowing in self-pity, Jessica removed her nose from the window and shifted uncomfortably in the seat. No matter how much she wriggled she couldn’t find a comfortable position. She wasn’t entirely sure whether that was to do with the seat itself or just her own internal, emotional discomfort. The red lever intended for an emergency stop was in her line of sight and for a few heart-racing seconds she considered yanking it down and escaping into the woodland that surrounded the tracks. The urge to do so dissolved into acceptance of her fate when she remembered that someone was waiting for her at the end of the journey. Someone important. Her heart began to hammer again.

  She sat alone in the compartment with only her thoughts for company, although the chatter of other passengers could be heard. Snippets of conversation kept winging their way towards her. They were providing background noise if nothing else. Her black, bulky suitcase sat next to her on the seat, reminding her constantly of where she was headed. The clothes had been rammed inside rather than neatly folded earlier that morning. She hadn’t wanted to drag the packing out so she’d instead bundled her clothes into it and zipped it up hastily, preferring to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

  The rattle of an oncoming tea trolley approached; wheels squeaking, teacups chinking against each other noisily. Jessica turned her face towards the window and hoped that whoever was behind it would walk straight past her, paying little attention to the lone traveller who was staring at the outside world.

  ‘Would you like a tea, dear?’ The trolley paused beside the outer seats, leaving Jessica with no option but to acknowledge its presence as well as the woman’s behind it. A wrinkled face appeared with rheumy eyes behind a large pair of spectacles.

  She gulped down the sudden threat of tears. The tiniest thing was capable of setting her off just lately, more so the appearance of kind, old ladies. She nodded and accepted the cup of tea gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

  Rather than continuing on her way like Jessica had hoped she would, the tea lady remained where she was and cocked her head to the side. She leant forward over the trolley to study Jessica with concern, her eyes wrinkling at the corners. ‘Are you quite all right, petal? You look a little pale, is all. Here.’

  A couple of sugar sachets landed in Jessica’s lap making her flinch in surprise. She was as jumpy as a child on a bouncy-castle, her nerve-endings shot to pi
eces. She needed to get a grip and fast. ‘Oh! Thank you.’ She gathered the sachets and offered the woman a smile that was as friendly and genuine as she could muster.

  ‘No problem,’ the tea lady replied, pleased with her helpfulness. She placed her hands on her hips. ‘Sugar helps with all sorts of shock and by the looks of you, you could do with plenty.’ With a knowledgeable nod, she turned back to her trolley and rattled off down the aisle.

  Alone once more, Jessica’s fingers trembled as she sprinkled each serving of sugar into her tea. Was she shocked? She supposed so. But then, she felt as if she’d always known that the day would come when she’d have to return. Despite living her wonderful London life—arranging and attending glamorous work events, heading off abroad with her best-friend—it was as if the harsh reality of who she was and where she’d come from had always been present, right at the back of her mind. Sure, it had been hidden away, but only until the day that something prompted it to resurface.

  She was stirring the sugar into her tea when her ringtone sprung to life. She dug into her coat pocket and studied the screen of her phone. Her heart soared when she saw Sarah’s name flashing. The photo of them that had been taken whilst holidaying in Tenerife was the one that she’d chosen as Sarah’s contact picture. It was her favourite. Two young, carefree women, skin bronzed from two weeks beneath the burning sun, strutting about in bikinis and, quite simply, enjoying life. She remembered how happy she’d felt when the photo had been taken and she couldn’t help but wish that she was back there now with Sarah, rather than sat on the train alone.

  She answered the call.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Sarah asked as soon as Jessica picked up.

  ‘Sarah, we spoke about twenty minutes ago when we said goodbye at the station.’ She couldn’t help but to smile at her friend’s concern. ‘But in answer to your question, no, I’m not okay. I wish I’d never agreed to this. Is it too late to change my mind?’

  ‘Jess, you can’t change your mind now. You’re on the train and you’re on your way. And remember what I said to you in Maggie’s the other day?’

  Ah, yes, their weekly catch-ups in Maggie’s were one of her favourite things, as were the cinnamon buns and the coffee. ‘Remind me?’

  ‘This needs to be done for your own peace of mind if nothing else. If you didn’t go back, you’d only spend the rest of your life regretting it. I know you would. You’re that sort of person. I know it’s scary, I know it’s a big deal, but if you were that scared, you wouldn’t have got on the train. I’m proud of you for taking that step.’

  ‘Thanks, Sar. That means a lot to me.’ She sipped her tea and winced as it scalded her mouth. ‘Are you going to miss me while I’m gone?’

  ‘Are you serious? Of course I’m going to miss you! Do you know how much willpower I had to use to not get on that train with you? I would have come with you, you know. I wouldn’t have minded at all.’

  ‘I know, but as clichéd as it sounds, I think this is something that I need to do on my own. Plus, you’d get bored. There really isn’t that much to see or do down there. You’re much better off staying where you are.’

  ‘I think you may have a point there.’ Sarah laughed lightly. ‘So, what’s going to happen once you’re there besides the funeral? Is there anything else that you’re going to need to sort out?’

  Jessica swallowed at the mention of the ‘f’ word. It still felt surreal, like she’d stumbled into some other parallel universe where everything was disorderly and up in the air. Her life wasn’t like this. Her life was neat and tidy and organised. ‘I’m really not sure. I didn’t ask many questions on the phone. I’m sure Esme mentioned something about the house but I was so shocked when I realised that it was her on the phone, I couldn’t concentrate enough to take anything in. It’ll all become clear once I’m there, I’m sure.’

  ‘And is Esme meeting you at the station once you arrive?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘That’s what she said.’

  It had been almost two weeks since she’d received the phone call.

  She’d been standing in the queue in the canteen at work waiting for a plateful of lasagne, stomach rumbling as she watched the steam rising from the melted cheesy topping. With colleagues stood on both sides and chatter coming from all directions, she’d been surprised that she’d even heard her phone ringing from inside the confines of her bag. But miraculously, she had, and she’d been so surprised to hear Esme’s voice that when the lasagne had been handed back over to her, she’d lost grip of the plate and sent it crashing to the floor, splattering her white jeans and pastel pink heels with a steamy red mess. Colleagues had fussed around her legs and feet, cleaning and picking up pieces of the smashed plate, asking if she was okay. While all this had been going on, she’d stumbled backwards away from the chaos as her world had begun to swim in and out of focus. That phone call had been the one thing that she’d been dreading since she’d begun her life in London. That single phone call was capable of dragging her right the way back to a place that she thought she’d done an excellent job of forgetting existed. In this instance, the phone call had achieved exactly that and deserved a huge round of applause for smashing up her fantastically un-messy life in just a few seconds. But, even though the thought of returning was enough to make Jessica want to flee the country without a single backwards glance, she knew as soon as she’d heard what Esme had had to say that she’d had no choice in the matter. After all, what kind of daughter wouldn’t attend her own parents’ funeral?

  ‘Jessica?’ Sarah ventured quietly.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you strong enough to deal with this?’

  She swallowed and clutched the phone a little tighter. ‘I hope so…’

  ‘When you’re back home, let’s get this year’s holiday booked. What do you think? It’ll give you something to look forward to. Cocktails, sun, sea and sand?’

  ‘That sounds perfect,’ Jessica replied, her voice a tiny bit brighter at the thought of being somewhere else, anywhere else. It really didn’t matter where, as long as it was far away from here. A holiday with Sarah would give her something to dream about whilst she crawled through the next couple of weeks. An imaginary place to escape to when reality became too much to handle. ‘While I’m away, you get planning. Find somewhere exotic and full of dark haired, muscly, rugged men who’ll feed us grapes and fan us with those huge palm leaves, and make sure you—’

  She paused in her list of holiday requirements as a tall figure appeared in the corner of her eye. She glanced up at the new passenger with a backpack slung over one shoulder. While she’d been chatting away, the train had stopped at another station. She only meant to acknowledge him out of politeness but as their eyes caught, chocolate brown on olive green, she struggled to look away. He nodded towards the two empty seats opposite her. Dark haired, muscly, rugged… It was as if someone had been listening to her list of holiday requirements and magically conjured him up.

  He remained standing as people pushed past him impatiently to get further down the carriage. Apparently, he was waiting for her approval before sitting down, which was rather gentlemanly of him, Jessica thought to herself.

  ‘Dark-haired, muscly, rugged men who will feed us grapes and fan us with huge palm leaves whilst stretched out on sunbeds beneath a tropical sun.’ Sarah’s voice had a dreamlike quality to it as she carried on. ‘Okay. Got it. Just don’t mention that part to Luke. We’ve only been going together for four months. I don’t think he’d appreciate being replaced just yet.’ She giggled girlishly. ‘Listen, Jess. I’m going to have to go. Lunch is almost up and if Pete finds me in here using the work phone again, heads will roll. We have a party of twelve in this afternoon so I need to start folding napkins. Oh, exciting life that I lead! Text me once you arrive and remember, I’m only a phone call away. Love you, Jess.’

  ‘Love you too, Sar.’ The call came to an end.

  ‘You can sit there,’ Jessica motioned to the handsome man still waiting
for the go-ahead. ‘I mean, if you want to sit there, because no one else is sitting there.’ She waved towards the empty seats and immediately wanted to snatch her flailing, floppy hands back down to her sides. She shoved the phone into her pocket and turned her head sharply to stare back out of the window, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Thanks. Everywhere else was taken.’ The deep, gravelly voice made her inch her eyes back towards him. Treacle-soft, sugar-sweet, dark-chocolate-divine.

  He dropped into the seat opposite with obvious relief and ran his fingers over the smattering of dark stubble that swept across both sides of his very masculine, very appealing jaw. She’d never thought of a jaw as a physical attribute before. It took her a few trying moments to remove her eyes from his face. Thankfully, he was oblivious to her admiring glances as he fiddled with his phone. She probably looked like she’d never seen a man before. Well, she hadn’t, not one that looked like him, anyway.

  ‘All right?’ he asked casually once a few minutes of silence had passed. One corner of his delicious mouth lifted upwards. Shiny, conker-brown hair and twinkling, green eyes created the perfect package of man.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. You?’ She righted her position, pulled herself up a little straighter. She imagined she looked like a child cowering in the corner of the compartment and something about this man made her want to appear more womanly than she’d ever been before. She discreetly smoothed down her raven black hair and swept her fringe from out of her eyes.

  He pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie to reveal toned, tanned forearms and grinned. ‘Great, thanks.’

  She was treated to another of his smiles and couldn’t help but return it. There was something about him that captivated her. His confidence perhaps? Whatever it was, she liked it. Rather a lot, actually. She wasn’t used to chatty strangers. Especially handsome chatty strangers, and rarely did they attempt to speak to her. There just weren’t that many around. Well, not that many besides this one who had just happened to cross her path. But anyway, this wasn’t the time for flirting. She had more important things to think about. She offered him another quick smile that she hoped didn’t appear rude and turned to face the window once again.