Clover Cottage
CHRISTIE BARLOW

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Christie Barlow 2020

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Christie Barlow asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008362706

Ebook Edition © March 2020 ISBN: 9780008362690

Version: 2020-02-25

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

About This Book

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

A Letter from Christie

Acknowledgements

Also by Christie Barlow

About the Author

About the Publisher

In loving memory of Margaret Jean Ridal,

04.01.31 – 2.11.19

Age 88

Forever in our hearts.

About This Book

This ebook meets all accessibility requirements and standards.

Chapter 1

It was just an ordinary Thursday when Allie Macdonald grabbed her bag and sunglasses, threw her camera around her neck and then waltzed down Love Heart Lane to meet her boyfriend Rory. With a spring in her step she was high in spirits; the sun was shining and with a rare night off from the pub she was going to make the most of her evening.

‘Hey,’ she shouted, waving at Rory, who was walking towards her.

She tilted her head to one side and looked him up and down, all dreamy-eyed. Rory’s bone structure was perfectly symmetrical and there was a softness to his eyes. The sun had caught his face, leaving Allie thinking he looked even more handsome than normal – if that was possible. Allie still got a flutter of butterflies swirling around her stomach every time she laid eyes on Rory. She just knew this man was her happy-ever-after and she loved the bones of him.

The second Rory spotted Allie he sported a huge smile. She stopped and pointed the lens of the camera at him … click … click …

Rory laughed. ‘You and that camera,’ he joked, striking a pose.

‘Not bad,’ she teased, shielding the sun from the viewfinder whilst taking a flick through the photographs. ‘You should really think about becoming a model.’

Rory rolled his eyes. ‘I think you may be a tiny bit biased.’

‘Maybe, just a little,’ said Allie, pinching her thumb and forefinger together before standing on tiptoe and pressing a kiss to his lips.

‘You’re in good spirits,’ said Rory, taking her hand in his as they began walking.

‘I am. Life is good and after all it’s a special day,’ said Allie, ruffling the golden bristles of Rory’s stubble and waiting for the penny to drop.

‘Huh, special day – what have I missed?’ he asked, pretending to rack his brains.

She halted. The sun caught his eyes as she glanced at him questioningly. ‘Stop teasing me!’

His eyebrows arched but much to Allie’s relief he recovered his expression with a chuckle.

‘Rory! It’s our anniversary,’ exclaimed Allie.

‘Eighteen months today,’ he replied.

‘Do you remember the first time you asked me out?’ probed Allie, remembering the stress of that morning. She had taken an early hike over the mountain pass with her trusted labradoodle Nell to take photographs of the heather-covered glens, when Nell had decided to lollop after a bird over the edge of the crag of the hill and had tumbled a long way to the ground. Allie had never run so fast in her life, stumbling across the uneven ground with her heart in her mouth, and when she’d reached Nell, she’d found her unconscious with a huge gash in her side.

‘Over the surgery table,’ Rory said, grinning.

Allie had arrived in the village of Heartcross at eight years of age, when finally her family had stopped moving around and had settled in the Grouse and Haggis pub, which they’d run ever since. Even though Allie had known Rory in primary school and they had become friends, it was only when he’d returned from university that she’d begun to take a real interest in him. He was the hot young vet, easy on the eye and just an all-round good guy. Allie had been immediately drawn to him and she was willing to bet she hadn’t been the only one attracted to him.

She’d watched him set to work on Nell, dynamic and professional, and had been reassured that her little dog was in the best hands. She’d been mesmerised by the change from the goofy lanky boy he’d once been in the school classroom to the handsome professional man he had transformed into.

‘Honestly, it looked like a murder scene! You dressed up in your scrubs, splattered with blood, but you saved Nell’s life … My hero!’

Despite the black mascara tears that had run down her cheeks, right there in his surgery, Rory had plucked up the courage and asked Allie out on a date.

‘But I do have a bone to pick with you about that day – I didn’t even get a discount on my bill,’ teased Allie, swiping his arm playfully.

‘I’ve got a living to make – but you did bag a date with the most eligible vet in Heartcross.’

‘You are the only vet in Heartcross, except your dad, of course … What do you think tonight is all about?’ asked Allie. It was unusual to be summoned to Rory’s parents’ house at such short notice.

Rory had received his call just after four o’clock, as soon as afternoon surgery had finished, whilst Allie’s call had been just before three. There was nothing to suggest there was anything wrong except the sudden urgency of the invitation, which had taken them both by surprise.

‘I’ve no idea,’ answered Rory, looking at his watch, ‘but there’s only one way to find out!’

***

It was an uphill walk across the village green to Rory’s parents’ cosy three-bedroom cottage nestled at the end of the high street. Alana and Stuart had lived there all their married life and it offered spectacular views of the rolling hills and Heartcross Mountain. For a moment, Allie and Rory took a breather and rested against the wooden fence that adorned the idyllic duck pond, home to a few plump-looking mallards, in the utterly gorgeous village of Heartcross. Allie pointed her camera at the water … click … click …

They watched the children running along the well-worn gravel paths, their faces flushed with laughter, whilst their mothers sat chatting on picnic blankets under the magnificent green cascades of the willow trees. There was no breeze today; the weather was glorious and the early evening sun hung high in the sky, beaming rays down on them.

Allie shouted over to Hamish and Julia, who were weaving floral-coloured bunting through the railings at the far end of the green. It was a busy weekend for the villagers of Heartcross: it was their annual summer fair, which brought everyone out in droves.

‘You are good at all that malarkey,’ said Rory, nodding towards the camera before staring out across the park.

Allie had been interested in photography from as long back as she could remember. Even at school she’d been the brains behind the afterschool photography club, always having her camera close to hand. Recently, she’d begun to photograph local events and was amazed when the local newspaper had published her photographs alongside their articles. For Allie’s last birthday Rory had bought her a subscription to a national photography magazine which she’d thought was just the best and most thoughtful present anyone had ever got her. Each month she looked forward to the magazine landing on the doormat.

‘It’s easy. All you do is point and click,’ said Allie joyfully, snapping away.

Rory took a look at the photographs through the viewfinder. ‘They are amazing,’ he said glancing at her with respect. ‘Have you thought any more about opening up a photography club?’

Recently, the idea had been firmly on Allie’s mind, but she was exhausted with the early morning starts followed by the late nights working at the pub and barely got any time off.

‘We’ll see,’ she mused.

Rory watched the concentration on Allie’s face as she twisted the lens on her latest Nikon before she leaned slightly towards him and lowered her voice even though there was no one close by to hear. ‘You don’t think one of your parents is ill, do you?’ she said, with an uncomfortable feeling rising inside. It had been the first thing she had thought of when she’d received her call.

Rory’s eyebrows shot up and he gave Allie a sideward glance. ‘What makes you say that?’ he asked. ‘I’m not sure I’m prepared for a bombshell like that.’

Immediately, Allie felt a little guilty and summoned a smile. She hadn’t meant to worry Rory. ‘Or maybe your dad is finally going to announce his retirement. That’ll be a huge relief for you. I know you find his old-fashioned ways somewhat suffocating at times.’

‘Only at times?’ Rory rolled his eyes. He found his father difficult to work with on a daily basis.

Rory had been one of those unique children who had always known what he wanted to do as a profession, unlike Allie, who had fallen into the job of barmaid by accident – after helping out at her parents’ pub one evening due to staffing issues, she’d been there ever since. Lately, it seemed to Rory, she’d lost all motivation to find another job.

Conversely, Rory had been a dedicated student, his time at university taking him away from sleepy Heartcross to bustling London. He’d left university with a first-class degree and big plans. He’d wanted to travel, make a difference and stamp his mark on the world. After his placement at a zoo he’d become fascinated by endangered wild animals and had passionately campaigned to raise money for the sanctuaries that rescued vulnerable animals from appalling conditions where they were confined, exploited or abused. He had been determined to help in any way he could but had ultimately been enticed back to Heartcross by his father on the promise that, one day, he would make him a partner in the veterinary practice. Stuart had sold the opportunity to Rory that they would be equal but in Rory’s eyes their partnership was far from equal. Stuart still had the majority shareholding and his decision was final – always. But Rory had ideas and dreams of his own. He wanted to extend the practice, build a brand-new operating theatre with all the latest equipment and technology, alongside an animal hospital. He wanted the Scott and Son veterinary practice to become a household name, further afield than the little rural village of Heartcross. But Stuart had dismissed the suggestion; he couldn’t understand why anyone would ever want to expand and become a bigger corporation.

‘Look, son, this is a family business, customers know your name, who you are … It gives them the personal touch. When you start bringing in outsiders, all that is lost, and things get messy. Customers want to know they are seeing you or me, not someone else.’

Even though Rory was eternally grateful for having a secure career it was no secret that his father’s working methods frustrated him. Stuart was forever the traditionalist and every time Rory suggested even the most minuscule of changes to the veterinary practice it was always dismissed immediately without further discussion.

‘Can you believe we still don’t have a computer system to book appointments, in this day and age?’ said Rory, cocking an eyebrow whilst shaking his head slightly.

Allie chuckled, linking her arms through his, and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew this conversation off by heart; she’d lost count of the number of times Rory had vented his annoyance to her. His mum, Alana, could never get to grips with a computerised system and, as the receptionist in the family-run business, had kiboshed it within hours of one being set up. ‘All we need is an appointment book and a pen. The old ways are the best ways,’ she’d said with authority and there was no way she was budging.

Rory had disagreed. Every time he needed to pencil in an appointment or check who was next on his rounds, he had to ring his mother to check the system.

‘But …’ said Rory, hesitantly.

‘What is it?’

‘Lately, Mum … I thought maybe I’d got it wrong, but her filing is all over the place and sometimes not even in the cabinet. Emails deleted or not replied to, not to mention appointments missed in the diary. I nearly said something but … Then there’s Dad: in the last couple of months he’s seemed grumpier than usual,’ said Rory, attempting a half-hearted laugh, ‘but I suppose sometimes even I go up the stairs and forget what the hell I went up for.’ Allie got the impression Rory was glossing over his worries and glimpsed a concerned expression in his eyes.

‘Maybe we should live in a bungalow when we are older, then we won’t need to go up the stairs,’ Allie joked.

‘Sounds like a plan. Right, come on,’ said Rory, unable to put off the inevitable any longer. ‘Let’s go and find out what all this is about.’

***

Enjoying the sunshine, Allie took Rory’s hand and swung it gently as they ambled up the lane towards his parents’ cottage. On arrival Rory pushed open the gate into the garden.

‘Everywhere looks stunning!’ exclaimed Allie. Stuart was a keen gardener in his spare time and the front garden was wholly gorgeous, striking in fact, with not a single blade of grass out of place. There was so much colour, blooms bursting from every flowerbed. Allie inhaled the rich scent of the roses that straggled round the old oak-beamed porch. ‘Look at these roses, simply stunning … so pretty,’ she said, thinking one day she would love to live in a cottage as quaint as this.

Within seconds Alana appeared from the side of the house with a huge smile on her face. ‘I thought I heard the gate.’ She fussed round Rory, straightening the collar on his polo shirt before pulling Allie in for a suffocating hug.

‘Come,’ Alana said with a gesture after releasing Allie and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. ‘We are in the garden, the weather is too beautiful to miss.’

‘She’s in good spirits,’ whispered Allie to Rory, thinking that maybe they’d been worrying about nothing. Alana looked happy and relaxed. Maybe the request to visit had simply been an invitation for dinner.

Following Alana around the side of the house, the gravel path crunching underneath their shoes, Rory and Allie were greeted with a splendid-looking afternoon tea.

‘This is all very civilised,’ exclaimed Rory, casting a glance over the table set out with his parents’ best china tea set. Delicately cut finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, sweet pastries and cakes looking extremely scrumptious adorned the floral plates.

Stuart looked up from under his wide-brimmed hat, his glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose, newspaper in hand. ‘I’m working like a boss,’ he joked, folding up the newspaper and placing it on the table. ‘How is everyone?’ he asked, standing up and kissing Allie on her cheek and clapping Rory on his shoulder.

‘We are all good. It’s glorious out here. Summer has finally arrived in Heartcross,’ said Allie, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite Stuart.

‘Drink, anyone? There’s tea in the pot, homemade lemonade or there’s a bottle of wine open,’ offered Alana.

‘Wine would be great,’ answered Allie, looking towards Rory, who craftily pinched a sandwich from the platter. It didn’t go unnoticed by Alana.

‘Hey,’ she said, lightly slapping her son’s arm in jest before handing out the plates.

‘How was work this afternoon?’ asked Stuart, picking up a conversation with his son.

The afternoon had dragged for Rory. ‘The same old mundane routine, mostly domestic animals off their food due to the heatwave, and Mrs Green’s labrador needs to go on a diet. Goodness knows what she’s feeding him.’

Stuart gave his son the parent stare, the one that warned him not to be ungracious. ‘That same old mundane routine is a business that has been built up over time, from nothing. Those animal owners trust us, rely on us, which is an honour, as most animal lovers prefer animals to humans.’

Rory had heard the same spiel a thousand times before.

Suddenly feeling a slight tension in the air, Allie looked from Rory to his father. She could understand Rory’s frustrations. She had long considered that Stuart was holding off from retirement because he just couldn’t let go of the practice, and wanted it to stay exactly the same for ever.

‘How about you, Alana, what did you do with your afternoon off?’ she asked, gratefully accepting a glass of wine from her and hoping the change in conversation would lighten the mood.

‘I went into town and you’ll never guess who I bumped into,’ said Alana with enthusiasm, looking directly at Rory, who simply shrugged.

‘Clare – Clare Wilson – well, not Clare but her mother.’

Rory sat up straight, ‘No way! What is Fiona doing around these parts?’

‘Visiting a family friend or something. I had to look twice when I saw her standing in the queue in the department store … She passes on her best and told me all about Clare. Oh, Rory, she’s doing so well for herself.’

Clare Wilson was Rory’s ex-girlfriend from university and was practically perfect in every way. Allie knew this because this was not the first time Alana had brought her into the conversation. Despite Allie giving herself a good talking to, that Clare wasn’t in any way a threat to her or her relationship with Rory, curiosity had got the better of her and she’d gone searching on Facebook and Instagram until she’d found her. Clare was a natural beauty, even Allie acknowledged that. Her long blonde tousled locks bounced just below her shoulders, her skin was flawless and her piercing blue eyes were captivating. In the last twelve months alone, Clare had travelled to places Allie hadn’t even heard of. Everything she did she did successfully and at first Allie had to admit she felt a tinge of jealousy; the places Clare had visited, the charity work she’d undertaken, looked amazing and often left Allie wondering if she had missed out on life.

To Allie’s knowledge Rory had dated Clare for over three years, and when he decided to move back to Heartcross on a permanent basis she’d called the relationship off.

‘I bet, single-handedly saving the world no doubt!’ joked Rory.

‘It’s funny, really, isn’t it—?’

‘Funny in what way?’ interrupted Rory.

‘Because Clare left for Africa a couple of days ago. You were the one who always talked about travelling.’

‘Wow! Africa! That’s incredible,’ trilled Rory, looking suitably impressed. ‘Clare was always a go-getter.’

‘Apparently, she’s working as a travelling vet. It sounded amazing when Fiona was talking about her job, even though I’d rather we stick to domestic cats any day of the week. I’m not sure my nerves would hold up if I came face to face with a lion over the reception counter,’ said Alana, giving a little chuckle. ‘Have you ever thought about travelling, Allie?’

Alana’s question was innocent enough but made Allie’s thoughts quickly flick back to her own childhood. Her parents had travelled around a lot when she was younger, due to the lack of job opportunities, and Allie remembered how they had often been struggling for cash, making times very difficult for them as a family. As soon as Allie began to make friends in a new school, it seemed like only seconds later she would be whisked off to the next destination, her parents hoping for a better life but leaving her feeling unsettled and having to try and fit in all over again. She had been eternally gratefully when they had found their forever home in Heartcross and now she was reluctant to stray far away again.

As Allie shook her head and took a sip of her wine Alana passed the sandwiches towards them. ‘Tuck in before they begin to curl at the edges.’

Still thinking about her early childhood Allie realised she couldn’t ever imagine leaving Heartcross. Everything she needed was right here: her parents, Rory, her job.

Granted, over the years Allie had watched numerous films that featured the bustling cities of New York, London, Tokyo, the sky disappearing between the huge skyscrapers, the traffic, and whilst it had seemed glamorous and exciting, it had also seemed all too manic to Allie, who loved the slow pace of living in the Scottish Highlands, surrounded by the spectacular views of the mountain terrain. Allie knew she would never tire of it.

‘So other than the usual spot of gardening, how was your afternoon, Stuart? Did you take a trip into town?’ asked Allie.

Silence.

The exchanged subtle look between Stuart and Alana didn’t go unnoticed by either Allie or Rory.

‘Okay, what’s going on?’ asked Rory, lowering the sandwich back onto his plate. ‘Is something wrong?’ Rory leant forward, rested one arm on the table and the other on Allie’s knee. Maybe one of them was ill, thought Allie, but Alana seemed to bloom in an instant, a huge smile hitched on her lips, and Allie noticed Rory relax his shoulders a notch.

Alana folded her arms and leant on the table before nodding towards Stuart to give him the go-ahead to speak.

‘It looks like good news with that smile,’ said Allie, regarding Rory with one raised eyebrow.

‘This afternoon, we’ve been to the solicitor’s office,’ announced Alana, tilting her head and smiling widely. ‘Go on, Stuart, tell them the good news.’

Stuart cleared his throat; all eyes were on him. ‘Everything is absolutely fine, in fact more than fine.’

Beginning to feel impatient, Rory wound his hand round in circles, indicating the need for his father to speed up whatever it was he wanted to say.

‘What your father is trying to say is … we are putting the house up for sale.’

Horrified, Rory looked towards Allie. This revelation was not one he was expecting. Turning back towards his parents, he said, ‘You can’t be serious. Sell this place? Why would you even do that? What about the surgery?’

This house was Rory’s childhood home; this was where they belonged. He couldn’t ever imagine them living anywhere else or anyone else living here.

‘Not this place!’ trilled Alana, chuckling.

Rory shook his head, ‘I don’t understand. What house?’

Allie didn’t say a word but tightened her grip around Rory’s hand on her knee. Unlike Rory she had guessed what was coming next.

‘The terrace on Love Heart Lane.’

Allie waited and watched Rory. She knew this revelation had taken him by surprise. There was no sharp intake of breath, just a rhythmic blink then the penny dropped. He drained his drink and looked towards the faces turned towards him. His expression was now completely aghast. ‘Sorry’ – he paused – ‘sorry, for a moment there, I could have sworn you said you were going to sell my house,’ he stated, in a distressed tone, a sick sensation washing over him.

Alana topped up her glass with wine and then Allie’s.

‘And what I don’t understand is why you would even smile about the fact you are making me homeless.’ Rory wilted back in his chair and glanced between his mum and dad, waiting for answers. What were his parents thinking? Rory had lived in the whitewashed terrace on Love Heart Lane since graduating as a vet, as he’d found it difficult moving back into the family home after being independent at university. The property was owned by his parents and he knew he was on a cushy number, living there rent- and mortgage-free, but he’d offered to pay his way and they’d refused.

‘What am I meant to do? I’m not moving back in with you two – at my age that’s ridiculous.’ Rory threw his hands up in the air. ‘If the house is going up for sale there’s a very simple solution – I’ll just buy it,’ said Rory, feeling satisfied with his decision. ‘That’s what I’ll do. Why am I even worrying about it? I’ll buy it direct from you … that’ll save your estate agent bills too. Win–win. I’m not losing my home.’ Rory was determined.

‘Don’t be daft, you don’t want to have a mortgage hanging around your neck,’ said Alana, ‘when you don’t have to.’ Her voice was upbeat.

‘Of course I do,’ argued Rory. ‘I have a good salary, the business is doing well … and I’m happy there; it’s my home.’

‘Unfortunately, buying the house is not an option for the next twelve months,’ cut in Stuart.

‘Why?’ insisted Rory, his voice tight.

‘Because we’ve agreed to rent it out.’

Feeling shocked – even she wasn’t expecting that revelation – Allie watched as Rory’s cheeks turned crimson.

‘You’ve done what? Why on earth would you do that?’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘It’s not a bad thing – if you will let us finish. We’ve signed a twelve-month lease to a man called Flynn Carter,’ announced Stuart.

Rory exhaled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Stuart continued, ‘He’s a property developer looking into this area due to the increase in tourism, or something along those lines.’

Rory was shaking his head in disbelief again as he looked towards Allie then back towards his father. ‘You’ve already signed a twelve-month lease? Without talking to me first? So when are you actually making me homeless from?’

‘The first of the month.’

‘I don’t believe this … Marvellous, absolutely marvellous.’

Allie placed her hand on Rory’s arm to calm him, but she was feeling confused too. She knew Stuart and Alana were fair people and couldn’t quite understand why they would do this. Surely there was a reason behind this? But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Trying to comfort Rory, she summoned up a smile. ‘You will be able to stay at mine – at the pub. Mum and Dad won’t mind,’ she soothed.

‘As if we are going to leave you homeless,’ said Alana, standing up, still with a smile on her face.

A bewildered Rory and Allie watched as Alana disappeared inside and returned clutching a brown envelope. She sat back down and slid the envelope towards them.

‘Let us put your mind at rest. Me and your dad aren’t losing our marbles, you know … Go on, open it,’ encouraged Alana.

Rory and Allie locked eyes before Allie took the envelope and opened it.

Both of them stared at the paper in front of them. Allie didn’t understand. ‘House details? Clover Cottage?’ she said, looking at the particulars and passing them to Rory. ‘Isn’t this James Kerr’s old place?’ she asked, puzzled.

‘It is indeed – and, would you believe, James left it to me in his will,’ said Stuart, pouring himself a beer and taking a sip.

‘Wow!’ exclaimed Allie, ‘I wish someone would leave me a house in a will.’

‘Well,’ said Alana hesitating. ‘That kind of is about to happen, except we aren’t dead yet.’ She chuckled.

‘Huh?’ said Rory, looking towards his parents.

‘We think Clover Cottage would be perfect for you – for you both. It was your dad’s idea really but I think it’s fantastic too.’ Alana smiled towards them both. ‘Allie would make the perfect daughter-in-law and we would love to welcome her into our family.’

It took Allie a second or two for the information to sink in then she squealed, grasping Rory’s arm, her hands visibly shaking. The excitement wired her body like she was plugged into the mains. She stared again at the details on the paperwork in front of her.

A cottage, their very own cottage.

She was genuinely shocked. ‘Oh my gosh, is this some sort of proposal? I’d love to be your daughter-in-law.’ Allie looked towards Rory with hope, a swarm of fireflies fluttering around her stomach at a speed of knots. ‘Rory, we have a house … a beautiful cottage … a place to set up home together.’ She barely took a breath.

Excitedly, she read out loud,

Clover Cottage, part of the Clover Farm estate, stands on the outskirts of the picturesque village of Heartcross, freehold detached dwelling

Modernisation needed. Plot circa 5 acres.

Even though the words were floating around in the air, Allie still couldn’t get her head around it … a cottage! Things like this didn’t happen to her; they only happened in the movies. This was all Allie had ever dreamt of, to set up home with Rory in such an idyllic setting, just like the one they were sitting in now, and it was right here on the outskirts of Heartcross. Already in her head she’d planned the decor, a new kitchen, roses tumbling around the oak porch and honeysuckle straggling through the hedgerows, the log fire burning away in the winter months.

‘Stuart, Alana,’ said Allie, looking up, ‘I really don’t know what to say … “Thank you” just doesn’t seem enough.’ Allie’s head was in an absolute spin. Her and Rory’s home together. This was her dream, cosying up with Rory every night.

‘Those particulars are current. We were going to sell the property when Stuart suggested gifting it to you both. We know how hard it is to get on to the property ladder these days and houses in Heartcross don’t come around that often.’

It was only then that Allie realised Rory had not said a word. She looked towards him and immediately sensed something was wrong. Rory looked kind of frazzled, like he was about to explode.

‘What is it?’ she asked, biting her bottom lip. She had a feeling something ominous was about to happen. There had been a sudden change of atmosphere.

Rory took the particulars out of Allie’s hand and slid them back across the table.

Feeling bewildered, she watched in dismay.

‘Thank you but no thank you.’ Rory’s eyes were wide and he didn’t even look in Allie’s direction. Scraping his chair back, he muttered, ‘I need some space,’ before exhaling, raking his hand through his hair and striding towards the kitchen.

‘Rory!’ a confused Allie shouted after him but he didn’t even give her as much as a glance over his shoulder. What the hell had got into him?

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Allie, quickly apologising to Alana and Stuart. She stood up and was about to follow Rory when Alana put a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll go,’ she insisted, and before Allie could object Alana was halfway up the path towards Rory, who was leaning against the kitchen worktop with his ankles crossed and his arms folded. Allie sat back down opposite Stuart feeling awkward.

***

As she sipped her wine Allie felt like all her dreams had come crashing down around her. All her fuzzy romantic feelings about setting up home with Rory were fading fast. Her mood slumped.

Alana and Rory’s voices travelled from the kitchen outside into the garden. Rory’s was irate. ‘How dare you both? I say when, I say where I want to live, and who with. This is typical of you and Dad, always trying to control me at work, and now forcing a home on me. I like living where I am and if I do have to move I would like to choose that property myself. And implying I should ask Allie to marry me. I might not even want Allie to marry me, I may not even want to set up home with Allie. Have you ever thought about that? What gives you the right to do this?’

‘We were only trying to help, and don’t you think it’s time?’

‘I’ll say when it’s time. I don’t need my parents pushing me into anything. My life, my choices.’

‘But houses don’t come up for sale in Heartcross very often. Clover Cottage will be the perfect family home for you both.’

Listening to Rory’s outburst, Allie felt numb. Her whole world had come crashing down around her. At first, she’d felt like a child at Christmas, one second ecstatically unwrapping the best present ever, and the next, devastated to find it wasn’t actually for her. She knew her mascara was about to run in all directions across her cheeks, and the wretched feeling in her stomach made her feel like she wanted to heave.

Unfortunately, Rory was locked in a heated conversation with his mother, and, feeling sick, Allie had exhausted all avenues of conversation with Stuart. ‘I’m so sorry, Stuart, please forgive me,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady, though she couldn’t keep the anxiety out of it. ‘I feel I need to go.’

She stood up; she wasn’t going to hang around any longer. Rory’s reaction had hit her hard. Trying to hide her tears, she bent her head low, grabbed her camera and left the cottage feeling downhearted.

Walking back through the village, she dug her hands deep in her pockets of her jacket, her mood plummeting to an all-time low. She paused briefly and looked out over the village green, Rory’s words playing over on her mind: ‘I may not even want to set up home with Allie.’

Allie was in turmoil, her eyes full of tears. What the hell had just happened? With her head in a spin, she walked around the pond, past the tall rustling reeds, and sat down on the bench under the large oak tree, trying to make sense of it all.

This would be the ideal start for them both, a cottage in the heart of the village where their life was, with no financial burden of a mortgage. As far as she was concerned this was the best thing that could have happened to them. Alana was right; houses didn’t come up for sale very often and this cottage would be perfect for them. But after Rory’s reaction Allie was beginning to wonder. The only reasonable explanation for his outburst was that just maybe she’d got this relationship all wrong. Maybe she wasn’t Rory’s happy-ever-after at all.

Chapter 2

Ten minutes later, Allie hadn’t moved from the bench. She hugged her knees to her chest and, taking in a breath, she closed her eyes and sighed.

She didn’t want to go straight home and face a busy pub along with a barrage of questions from her parents about why her evening had been cut short.

Still close to tears she felt embarrassed by Rory’s reaction and didn’t like the feeling of rejection at all. Where did they go from here? Tonight could have played out so differently. Right at this moment they could have been celebrating, popping open the champagne, and Allie knew she would have dragged Rory straight round to the cottage to take a look inside. But instead, here she was feeling upset, sitting alone.

Taking a slow steadying breath, she stared at the view in front of her, one of outstanding beauty. It had been a while since she’d hiked to the top of Heartcross Mountain, where the views went on for miles and miles. She closed her eyes, remembering her and Rory’s first proper date, a picnic on the mountain. She smiled just thinking about it. The weather had been kind, with a slight breeze as they’d climbed the small incline towards the pass then walked along the rocky path. Around halfway up there was a small brick building, which, as children, Allie and her friends would use as their den during the long summer holidays, and that was where they’d laid out their blanket. Rory had brought the picnic with a little help from Bonnie’s Teashop and the whole time Allie had felt a flutter of excitement, too nervous to eat. They’d lain on their backs, their faces towards the sky, when Rory had gently entwined his fingers around hers and leant up on one elbow before kissing her for the very first time.

***

Ping! Allie dropped her gaze to her phone. Three missed calls and three texts messages, all from Rory. She tapped and swiped the screen and sat with her head bowed reading his messages.

Where are you? x

Please pick up your phone x

Ring me as soon as you get this x

It looked like Rory was desperate to get hold of her, but at this moment Allie didn’t know what to say to him. A snap of a twig behind her caused her to spin round, and standing there she saw her friend Felicity.

‘I’m jogging! Don’t ask, just trying to shift a few pounds and get fit. All those cakes are piling on my waistline.’ She patted her stomach but as soon as she locked eyes with Allie her smile faded.

‘Bad day?’ asked Felicity, narrowing her eyes.

Where do I start? thought Allie, blowing out a breath. ‘You could say that.’

Felicity sat down next to her and for a second both women sat in silence, staring at the view, before Felicity spoke.

‘What’s going on? Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked tentatively.

Allie had never been one for tears, and she knew Felicity would be surprised and worried to see her upset. ‘You know when you think life is great and then suddenly—’ Allie’s voice faltered as she wiped away a tear that was sliding down her cheek with the back of her hand.

‘Surely it can’t be that bad,’ said Felicity, trying to comfort her.

‘Do you think you will ever move in with Fergus?’ asked Allie, looking towards her friend.

‘That’s the plan,’ said Felicity, ‘but it’s not always that simple, is it?’

Allie knew Felicity’s life and relationship with Fergus were complicated. Her heart went out to her friend who had made some brave decisions in the past, including walking away from Heartcross for eight years and living on her own in London.

‘Both Fergus and I talk about it all the time and I would jump at the chance of living with him and Esme – they are my life. But the timing and house need to be right. Let’s face it, no one seems to move from Heartcross and there aren’t many houses going up for sale, are there?’

‘That’s my point exactly.’

‘Huh? You’ve lost me.’

‘If someone gave you and Fergus a cottage in Heartcross, what would you think?’

‘Either I’m dreaming or I’ve won the lottery!’

‘I thought I’d won the lottery,’ said Allie solemnly, before sharing all the details about the evening so far with her friend.

Felicity blew out a breath. ‘I wasn’t expecting that. Clover Cottage – wow … That’s amazing! And James left the cottage to Stuart and Alana in his will and they’ve given it to you and Rory?’ she said, obviously happy for her friend.

Allie nodded, ‘That about sums it up, except Rory doesn’t want it and gave it back.’

‘Really? Is he mad? I’d be looking round there right at this second.’

Allie wholeheartedly agreed. She looked at her phone once more. She’d switched it to silent but there was Rory’s name flashing away on the screen, trying to reach her again. She knew she should probably pick up the call, but she shrugged off any guilt, knowing she was going to let him stew for a little while longer.

Over the past eighteen months Allie had built up a picture of their future together and this could have been the start of it. She sighed to herself again. She really hoped things were fixable between them.

‘Ignoring his calls isn’t going to help,’ said Felicity, looking at Rory’s name flashing repeatedly on Allie’s screen.

Allie paused before she answered, and cast her mind back, thinking about Rory’s reaction to his parents’ offer more and more.

‘You know, Rory’s never even asked me to move into the terrace with him on Love Heart Lane. Do you think that’s strange when he already has a house and I’m living with my parents at the pub?’

‘I bet he just thinks it’s easier for you to live there, with your early starts. And you know, Allie, sometimes men just need a little push. Talk to him; find out what’s going on. There’s no point sitting here trying to work it all out without the facts. Rory is besotted with you, anyone can see that.’

Allie shook her head. ‘You should have heard him, Flick.’

‘It’ll all be fine,’ reassured Felicity in a soft tone.

Despite her worries Allie knew she needed to talk to Rory.

‘Ring him back,’ urged Felicity. ‘The sooner the better.’

But before Allie could answer and let all her jumbled-up feelings settle, Rory came tumbling towards them both, raking his hand through his hair.

‘Thank God, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

Allie looked up. Rory’s expression had changed from one of anger and now he genuinely looked deflated and upset.

Allie waggled her phone in front of her. ‘I know, I’m sorry,’ she said, staring at the ground and avoiding Rory’s gaze. ‘I just needed to get my head straight.’

‘I’ll leave you both to it,’ said Felicity, standing up and hoping both of her friends would be okay. ‘If I don’t see you before, I’ll catch you both at the summer fair on Saturday.’

Rory waited until Felicity was out of sight before speaking. ‘Why did you disappear?’

‘Why do you think? Probably overhearing the heated conversation with your mum … especially the part when you stated you may not even want to marry me or set up home with me. You could have broken it to me gently, Rory.’ Allie’s voice wobbled.

Saying the words out loud, she did her best to squash the feeling of dread rising rapidly inside her, but she felt her heart-rate quicken.

Since she had been a little girl Allie had always dreamt of the perfect proposal and the perfect wedding, and as far as she was concerned Rory was her happy-ever-after. She felt vulnerable as he perched on the bench beside her. She wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading.

‘Is it over?’ the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, the comment hanging in the air between them. She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut, preparing herself for the answer.

‘What? What are you going on about?’ Rory’s eyes were wide. ‘I love you—’

Allie looked up. ‘But—’ she interrupted. Rory exhaled. ‘Oh my God, you are saying it’s over,’ she said, immediately standing up, not giving him a chance to answer. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her heart thumping fast against her ribcage. She couldn’t do this; she just wanted to get away.

Rory pulled her back down to the bench and grasped both her hands in his. ‘God, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just—’

‘It’s just you don’t want to live with me,’ insisted Allie.

‘That’s not what I’m saying either.’

‘Then what are you saying, Rory? Because I’m sitting here not knowing what the hell is going on. One minute I feel like I’ve won the lottery and the next, in the blink of an eye, I feel like I’ve lost everything.’ Allie’s voice faltered but she held his gaze.

‘Do you not think the decision should be ours? Do you not think our future is our decision?’

‘I don’t understand, Rory.’ All Allie could think about was the cottage that he’d just handed back to his parents. ‘Clover Cottage is – was – perfect for us.’

‘Allie, I’m not saying it’s not perfect for us. What I’m trying to say is my parents always have a hold over my life. I work for them, I live in a house owned by them, they are now choosing where my future house should be and who I live there with! You know my frustrations with Dad; we butt heads all the time regarding business matters. I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, and the offer of the cottage is a generous gift, but I just want to make my own way in life. I feel stifled – suffocated – by them at times.’

Allie didn’t interrupt but sat listening to Rory, who loosened his grip on her hands now he knew she wasn’t going to leave.

‘I want to ask my girlfriend to move in with me when I’m ready to ask her. I felt like Mum and Dad were pushing for us to live together, inviting you to be their daughter-in-law. I’m over the moon they think of you in that way, I really am, but I couldn’t help feeling this was more about them than us.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Allie, confused.

‘I think they’ve decided they are ready for the next stage of their lives – grandchildren. They want to see me, their only son, settled down. But this isn’t about them, it’s about me … it’s about us. I’m enjoying this part of our journey, dating, looking forward to seeing you in the evening, getting ready to go out … It’s a time we don’t get back. And what’s the rush?’

Allie knew Rory had a point, but she felt ready for the next step. She was tired of living with her parents, waking up and working in the same place. Of course it was convenient but now she too wanted her own space and wanted to move in with Rory. The time was right for her.

‘Isn’t half the fun viewing properties and deciding where we want to live together?’ Rory continued. ‘When we are ready, I want us to look for a house together, choose where we want to live together.’

‘But houses in Heartcross don’t come up for sale often. This cottage could be the perfect answer,’ Allie pointed out gently. ‘And the garden is amazing too; it’s a perfect location …’ She bumped her shoulder against his lightly. ‘And we wouldn’t have to move out of Heartcross. Surely it wouldn’t cause any harm to take a look?’

‘You are beautiful and persuasive,’ he said, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘But I want to make my own way in the world. Dad convinced me working in the family business was best for me yet I don’t feel equal and I’m convinced there’s more waiting out there for me.’

‘What’s wrong with Heartcross?’ Allie asked hesitantly.

‘Nothing – but there’s a big wide world out there to explore.’

‘Oh,’ said Allie, trying to read Rory’s expression before turning back to look at the scenery in front of her. Trying to digest the information, she felt confused, and a small tear slid down her face.

‘Please don’t cry, I’m just being honest with you. All I’m saying is there is more to life than Heartcross.’

Allie’s heart sank. She loved her comfortingly familiar life, surrounded by what she knew, the friends she grew up with. Her home was Heartcross, her life was Heartcross. But maybe she was so caught up in her own little world, she’d never realised Rory didn’t feel the same way.

‘I don’t feel I can stamp my mark on the business until Dad retires. I want to bring the technology into this century, build a new surgery, an animal hospital. I still feel like I’m living in the dark ages and banging my head against a brick wall. And now I have the added worry of moving out of my home in a matter of days. Everything in my life so far revolves around my parents’ aspirations for me.’

Allie knew she didn’t have the same frustrations with her own parents, but maybe that was because they weren’t as financially secure as Rory’s parents or as traditional in their views. And they certainly didn’t have more than one house. Money was tight at the pub: some months they barely made a living, but thankfully, due to Heartcross being put on the map over twelve months ago, there’d been an influx of tourists, which had helped to boost the business.

‘This isn’t about us, Allie, and I’m sorry I made you feel like this. But I do think moving in together should be our decision, not someone else’s. We’ve never talked about living together – it’s a major step, a commitment and I don’t want to let you down.’

‘Are you saying you still want to be with me?’

‘That was never in doubt. I always want to be with you.’

A smile crept onto Allie’s face, and a feeling of relief swept over her, but at the same time she was still feeling a little disappointed about the cottage. She nodded her understanding, but she wasn’t about to give up. Rory had admitted it was down to timing, and surely if his father retired Rory would think differently. He could run the business just the way he wanted. Rory might think Clover Cottage wasn’t the place for them but how would he ever know if he didn’t go and look? Allie was certainly intrigued by what Clover Cottage might have to offer.

Rory leant forward and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. ‘Thank you for understanding.’

Even though Allie hoped this was just a waiting game she felt a tiny niggle begin to fester inside her. What if she and Rory did want different things in life?

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning Allie was up with the lark. Usually she’d clean the pub once the drayman had arrived, but today it was the summer fair on the green and already her parents were bustling around with the other villagers erecting the tents for the day ahead.

She set to work dusting down the bar, putting out clean bar towels and restocking all the fridges. As she cleaned the lines and reconnected the ales and lager and made sure they tasted okay, her mind was firmly fixed on Rory. She hadn’t crossed paths with Stuart and Alana since Rory had refused the cottage, and she was hoping there would be no awkwardness between them today. She wondered what Rory was going to do. The clock was ticking and he had to move out of Love Heart Lane in a matter of days, but as far as she knew he hadn’t even started to pack up his things.

She picked up her untouched cold mug of tea and leant against the bar thinking about Rory. When he’d refused the cottage she’d doubted his intentions, but Rory had been his usual attentive self since then and had confirmed to Allie that refusing the cottage was nothing whatsoever to do with their relationship, thus putting her mind at ease. Of course, she understood his frustrations with his father, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that a cottage in Heartcross was a unique opportunity for them. She was surprised Rory wasn’t in the tiniest bit curious to take a look inside.

Wandering into the kitchen to make a fresh cup of tea, she hummed along to the radio then heard the door of the pub opening. She quickly popped her head into the hallway and saw Isla standing in the bar frantically looking for her.

‘Allie! Allie! Where are you?’

Allie appeared and locked eyes with Isla. ‘What’s wrong?’

Isla flapped her hand in front of her. ‘Nothing, nothing whatsoever …’ The smile stretched across her face. ‘You’ll never guess what … honestly, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him.’ Isla pulled out a stool at the bar and perched on top.

‘Saw who?’ asked Allie, intrigued. She hadn’t seen Isla this excited since she decided to buy a herd of alpacas for Drew’s last birthday.

Isla took a deep breath. ‘Zach Hudson!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous – where the hell would you see Zach Hudson? Have you had a bump on the head?’ But Allie had to admit Isla looked radiant this morning and didn’t look like she’d been bumped on the head.

‘I kid you not, he’s staying at the farm – in one of my vans!’

Allie laughed. ‘There is no way Zach Hudson is slumming in a caravan in the village of Heartcross.’

‘Hey! Don’t be cheeky; those vintage vans are the bee’s knees!’ said Isla, pretending to be insulted.

‘You know that’s not what I mean!’ Allie laughed at Isla’s expression. ‘But Zach Hudson is a celebrity. Why the hell would he be staying in one of your vans?’

Isla looked like the cat that got the cream. Since she’d opened Foxglove Camping, Isla had been doing a roaring trade. Julia at the local B&B had helped to spread the word, along with her Facebook page, and with the increase of tourism to the area they were both fully booked.

Zach Hudson was an actor in one of the most popular Netflix series, in his late twenties, and just the sound of his name made nearly every girl on the planet swoon.

‘I didn’t know it was him at first because he’d booked in under a pseudonym – Todd Jones.’

‘Obviously so no one would know it was him,’ interrupted Allie.

‘And when he arrived with the most adorable dog, Sydney, I just kept looking at him and then I asked him outright, was he Zach Hudson. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. I felt like pinching myself. He’s filming a documentary about the Scottish Highlands and chose Heartcross as he’d heard about us all when the bridge collapsed! Zach Hudson has heard about us!’ Isla flapped her hand in front of her face.

‘Isla, this is amazing for you, for Foxglove Camping. This catapults you right up there, puts you on a different level … celebrity clients … Just think of the publicity this could bring to your little business. What you need is a photograph – Zach with Sydney outside one of the vans. And I know just the girl to take that picture.’ Allie nudged Isla’s elbow playfully.

‘I was thinking exactly the same and Drew has convinced him to judge one of the dog shows this afternoon alongside Rory!’

‘No way! This is going to be brilliant! I’m taking photos for the local paper too, which obviously means I am going to need an introduction.’

‘Without a doubt!’ said Isla, glancing at her watch. ‘I’d best get back to the farm. Drew and Fergus are in charge of the hog roast and I need to go and put the gazebo up. And I’ve left Finn and Esme bathing Mop the alpaca. Finn is convinced she’s going to win best of show, especially if Uncle Rory is judging. The pair of them are so excited and I keep reminding them it’s a dog show, not an alpaca show, but they don’t seem to be listening to me!’

‘They are in for a fun afternoon. I’ll see you later on the green and make sure you look glam. I’ll get the camera at the ready!’

***

A couple of hours later Allie set off to meet Rory with her camera slung around her neck and a smile on her face. The sun was shining and the trees along the lane swayed lightly in the breeze.

She was bursting to tell Rory all about Zach’s arrival in the village and as soon as she saw him shutting the door of his house she hurried up the lane. Before Rory had even clapped eyes on her she sneaked up behind him.

‘You’ll never guess what,’ she said, causing Rory to jump out of his skin.

‘Christ on a bike, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where did you spring from?’ he asked, spinning round as he locked the front door.

‘Sorry, sorry … but you’ll never guess what,’ enthused Allie, bursting to tell him the news.

‘What?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes and slipping his arm around her shoulder as they began to walk along the lane.

‘Zach Hudson – the Zach Hudson – TV celebrity Zach Hudson—’

‘I think I get the picture. What about him?’ chipped in Rory.

‘He’s here in Heartcross.’

Rory laughed, ‘Have you been on the sherry already?’

‘He’s filming a documentary in Heartcross and is staying at Isla’s – honestly!’

Rory let out a low whistle. ‘I’ve been watching some of his latest documentaries. I know you ladies like him in his TV series but some of the more serious stuff he does is actually quite good.’

‘You can ask him all about it because Drew has talked him into judging the dog show with you. And guess who’ll be taking photos for the local press?’ Allie waggled her camera.

‘Really? This will be great for you and Isla.’

‘I know. Every year it’s a good day without fail – but I am a little nervous.’

‘About what?’

‘About seeing your parents after …’

Rory slid his arm from around Allie’s shoulders and squeezed her hand. The last forty-eight hours at work had been tense for Rory; to say there was an elephant in the room would have been an understatement. Rory had kept everything on a professional basis, but the tension had rippled between him and his father.

‘I’ve been thinking …’

Allie stopped and locked eyes with him. ‘What about?’

‘The cottage – but I’m making no promises.’

Allies eyes widened with anticipation and she could barely contain her excitement. ‘Are you saying you’re going to view the cottage?’

Rory smiled. ‘There’s no harm in looking.’

These were the words Allie wanted to hear. She let out a squeal then flung her arms around his neck, giving him a suffocating hug.

‘Rory, you are the best!’ Pulling away, she took his face in her hands and kissed him all over numerous times.

‘Get off me, woman,’ he joked.

Allie was ecstatic. She knew once she got Rory to see the cottage he’d fall for her persuasive powers. ‘What made you change your mind?’

‘To be honest – you,’ he said, taking a sideways glance at her as they began to walk. ‘You were right; houses don’t come up for sale very often in Heartcross, but the last time I visited there it wasn’t pretty … I think you’re expecting it to all be kitted out with mod cons. The only thing I remember it having of any use was a roof!’

Allie stopped walking. ‘Are you saying it’s derelict?’ In her head she had visions of a shabby-chic kitchen with an island decorated with vases of beautiful blooms, vintage crockery, floral home furnishings and one of those posh stand-alone baths in the middle of the bathroom.

‘I’m saying James Kerr lived a very basic life. I think the pigsty was in a better condition than the cottage.’

Allie cocked an eyebrow. ‘So it’s a project?’ she asked, always up for a challenge.

‘An expensive project …’

‘An expensive project,’ Allie repeated. ‘How much of an expensive project?’

‘I’m thinking it would be cheaper to knock the whole thing down and start again.’

‘It’s that bad? But that would cost a fortune,’ she mused, raising an eyebrow. She never managed to save a penny from her wages from the pub. How could they ever afford to do this?

Even though her dream was tarnished slightly she wasn’t giving up hope.

‘It’s going to cost a fortune no matter what.’

‘But … it still has a gorgeous name,’ chipped in Allie dreamily. ‘Clover Cottage.’

‘There’s nothing Laura Ashley about it, believe me, and if I remember rightly it wouldn’t be somewhere you could move into straightaway. There weren’t even any carpets on the floor and, let’s face it, if there were they’d probably need ripping up.’

‘But that’s half the fun, making somewhere your own. A renovation project. Vintage furniture can be sourced cheaply these days from lots of online stores and charity shops.’

Rory wasn’t convinced there was anything fun about a renovation project. He remembered vividly the stress of returning from university in his second year to discover his parents had ripped out the bathroom and were installing a new one, and the dust was immense. His mother was stressed up to the eyeballs, especially with the endless cups of tea she was making for the builders all day long.

‘Mmm, let’s just take a look first. But no promises,’ said Rory in a firm tone, but he knew by the sparkle in Allie’s eye and the smile on her face she didn’t care what state it was in. She’d already got them moved in, alongside a couple of kids and no doubt numerous pets. He wasn’t one hundred per cent as convinced as her, and, if he was truly being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if this was really what he wanted at this moment. He loved Heartcross, but he knew he still had ambition outside the small village. Hearing about Clare had ignited his old ambition to see more of the world while he had no ties. If he began to renovate the cottage and move in with Allie, he knew that would most probably mean children soon after – and how would he ever manage to escape to fulfil his ambition then? He was certain Allie was his future but the timing for him wasn’t quite right now, especially with his current workload. The cottage would be a mammoth task – and could they even afford it? He knew he was more of a realist than she was: he ruled with his head whereas Allie followed her heart. But he could see how important it was to her, and there was no harm in taking a look.

‘What about the grounds surrounding Clover Cottage?’ Allie was intrigued. The particulars Stuart and Alana had shown them indicated that the cottage came with numerous acres, outbuildings and even another small property.

‘I never even thought to ask. I’m assuming James Kerr left it all to my father, but maybe not. That’s something I need to check with Dad. We don’t want to be living next door to just anyone.’

Allie agreed. ‘And what’s the plan? Are you moving back in with your parents? There’s room at the pub.’

Rory shrugged. ‘I’ve not even thought about it but I suppose I best had since the clock’s ticking. Maybe I should have a word with Isla – if one of her vans is good enough for Zach Hudson …’ he said laughing.

All along Love Heart Lane and the High Street, triangular coloured bunting was woven between the lamp posts and flapping in the light breeze. The weather was perfect, not too hot, the sun was shining and only a few clouds dotted the cobalt sky.

Allie and Rory followed the makeshift cardboard signs hammered into the grass verges that pointed to the village green. This afternoon Allie had offered to man the Pimm’s tent alongside her mum whilst her dad looked after the pub.

Allie loved this event; the mood was always jolly and it was so much fun to catch up with everyone. As they turned the corner the village green was unrecognisable. Small coloured tepees lined the edges, alongside trestle tables selling jams, chutneys and homemade jewellery and trinkets. There was something for everyone.

Alfie and Polly were standing at the entrance jangling their buckets for charity donations. Throwing a handful of coins into the bucket Allie and Rory stepped onto the green. There were Finn and Esme parading Mop the baby alpaca around the field on her lead like it was the most natural thing in the world.

There were jugglers, stilt-walkers, balloon sellers and a bouncy castle. Families were sprawled out on their picnic rugs enjoying their day. Over at the far end of the green there was a live band playing on a makeshift stage with hay bales doubling as seating. Hamish was accompanying them on his fiddle. Children were running and squealing between the candyfloss and sweet stalls. There was a great stir of excitement all around. Isla was plodding along with one of the Shetland ponies from the farm, providing rides for the youngsters. The whole field was a medley of sights and sounds.

Felicity and Rona’s stall was stacked with the most delicious-looking pastries and cakes and had a queue a mile long eagerly awaiting their turn. Allie waved at Felicity, who was busy slicing cakes and popping them into paper bags.

‘I need one of those flapjacks before they sell out,’ said Allie, pulling Rory towards the queue. ‘I swear Flick could win awards for her baking.’ Felicity must have read her mind and quickly passed a bag over the tops of heads as Allie mouthed a thank you.

They carried on walking and spotted Fergus and Drew manning the hog roast, each with a beer in hand. Rory started walking in their direction until Allie tugged at his sleeve and nodded towards a multicoloured tepee with a makeshift bead-fringed curtain.

Allie laughed. ‘That’s hilarious,’ she said reading the sign out loud. ‘Have your fortune told today with Mystic Martha – £2 a go.’

‘Since when has Isla’s gran been a fortune-teller?’ asked Rory with a chuckle.

Allie tugged at his arm. ‘Come on.’

‘You cannot be serious. Since when has Martha had any sort of psychic powers or predicted any information about a person’s life?’ challenged Rory.

‘You’re not scared, are you?’ teased Allie, rummaging around in her bag to find her purse. ‘This could predict our future!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ But before Rory could object any more Allie had pulled him to the entrance of the tent.

‘Keep an open mind – this could be interesting!’ she whispered, parting the curtain to reveal Mystic Martha sitting at a small round oak table, running her hands over a crystal ball that doubled as an upside-down glass ball lampshade.

Rory stifled a giggle and Allie shot him a warning glance. He couldn’t quite believe she was taking this all so seriously.

As they stepped inside, Martha looked up. She was hunched over, rubbing her hands slowly over the crystal ball, creating a mystical atmosphere. She was barely recognisable as Isla’s grandmother, and Allie was taken in by her appearance. Her hands were wrapped in fingerless gloves, her wrists laced with bangles and her bony fingers stacked with silver rings. Draped around her shoulders was a black shawl and from her tiny waist hung a black skirt edged with gold crescent moons. There was no denying she played the part well.

She stretched out her bony hand and gestured towards the empty chairs. Both Allie and Rory sat down in silence. Martha hadn’t faltered in her role once, and never acknowledged who they were.

Still rolling her hands over the crystal ball, she nodded towards the bowl on the table which was already filled with coins, so it looked like Allie and Rory weren’t her first guinea pigs of the day.

Allie placed the money in the bowl and looked towards Rory, who arched an eyebrow. She didn’t have to be a psychic to read his mind. He was wondering why he was even entertaining such a farce.

Not looking up from the ball Mystic Martha began to gaze with deep concentration. Her voice was low, eerie, causing the hairs on Allie’s arms to stand on end.

‘Just remember, your future is never set in stone … you are in charge of your own destiny.’

Rory gently kicked Allie under the table but she didn’t react, her gaze firmly fixed on Martha.

Then for a split second Martha stopped rolling her hands and a fleeting look of worry spread across her face, but quickly she composed herself.

‘What is it?’ asked Allie.

‘Changes, there are huge changes ahead … I see brand-new opportunities for you both in completely different directions.’ Martha gazed up at Rory. ‘I see a whole world out there and you are settling for something else … I see fame … I see travel … places afar.’ Martha’s eyes were drifting in and out of focus. ‘An extravagant gift divides you. And for you, dear girl’ – Martha now turned towards Allie – ‘I see upset. Don’t let opportunities slip through your fingers. You need to overcome your fears … Be brave,’ and with that Martha stopped stroking the ball, stood up and disappeared behind another section of the gazebo.

When Allie looked towards Rory he was rolling his eyes. ‘What an absolute load of codswallop,’ he muttered.

‘She’ll hear you,’ mouthed Allie bringing her fingers up to her lips to shush Rory.

‘It’s only Martha!’ exclaimed Rory, perplexed that Allie was taking this seriously. He parted the beaded curtains and blinked. He hadn’t realised how dim the tent had been until he stepped out into sunshine. Already there was a queue forming outside the tent, which took Rory by complete surprise.

‘Where to next? The hog roast to catch up with Drew and Fergus …’ It was only then he realised by the look on Allie’s face that her mood had slumped. ‘Whatever is the matter? Please don’t tell me you believe a word that Martha said?’ he asked in disbelief. ‘This is Martha we’re talking about. She’s made it all up as she’s gone along.’ He hoped Allie was going to burst out laughing, but she didn’t crack a smile.

‘Martha thinks you’re going to break my heart. Does she know something I don’t?’

‘How have you deduced that from that conversation? You must be seriously winding me up. And that’s not what she said anyway. She said brand-new opportunities in different directions.’

‘“An extravagant gift divides you.”’

‘Allie, you are being really silly. I’m not even having this conversation,’ Rory said, pulling her in for a hug and kissing the tip of her nose. ‘You are just being daft,’ he said with a chuckle.

‘Don’t laugh at me. You can’t mess around with psychic powers.’

‘Mystic Martha has a lot to answer for. I can’t even believe you are letting her get to you. Martha is no more a fortune-teller than you or me,’ insisted Rory. ‘Now come on, let’s go and get a drink. I think I’m in need of a pint after that.’

Allie knew she was being daft and Rory was talking sense but somewhere in the back of her mind was a niggle about what Martha had revealed. The words settling for something else were etched on her mind. Did that mean Rory was settling for her?

Noticing her mood wasn’t lifting, Rory gave her a long-suffering look, ‘Stop thinking about it, otherwise this day is going to be ruined.’

Allie fixed a smile on her face, ‘Okay, okay … but you would tell me if you weren’t happy?’

‘Of course I would, but we don’t need this conversation because I am happy. Now not another word about it,’ urged Rory, tilting Allie’s face towards him and kissing her firmly on the lips. ‘And …’

Allie’s stomach lurched. ‘And what?’ she asked, her voice faltering.

‘I’ve already agreed to go and see the cottage. I’ll talk to Mum and Dad today and apologise for my outburst. I’ll eat humble pie and all that.’

Allie tried hard to repress the wide grin that was about to burst on to her face at any second. ‘Are you sure?’ she quickly added, trying not to sound too keen, though there was no denying she was secretly glad he was coming round to the idea, or at least had changed his mind about viewing it.

‘I’ve said I’ll go and have a look – but remember, there’s a whole bunch of factors to consider including the cost of it all. Now come on, let’s enjoy our day,’ he insisted, taking her by the hand. ‘Mystic Martha knows nothing,’ he said reassuringly, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek.

As they walked Allie felt better, but she thought again about what Mystic Martha had said. Even though she knew Martha had led a colourful life, she had no recollection of Isla ever telling any stories about Martha’s psychic powers. Allie had never queried her and Rory’s future together until his reaction over the cottage, and now Mystic Martha’s prediction was firmly on her mind.

‘I see upset.’

Of course, Allie wanted to think the stupid reading had no bearing on their relationship. She was passionate about their future and hoped she was overreacting, but after Rory’s outburst at his parents’ house she couldn’t deny that slight niggle. It just wouldn’t disappear from the back of her mind.

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