Blackberry Picking at Jasmine Cottage. Zara Stoneley

      

       Also by Zara Stoneley

      

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       Chapter 1

      Lucy Jacobs stared out of the window, and tried to ignore the little shiver of excitement that had sent a rash of goosebumps down her arms.

      Could she do this? Was she brave enough to cut the last tie, change her life for ever?

      The words danced about in her head in much the same way as the chickens in the garden were doing.

      Yesterday they’d flounced in indignantly when the first spots of rain had fallen. They hated the damp, and had spent most of the day sulking and shivering, but this morning after poking their sharp little beaks out, and craning their necks, they’d discovered sunshine. She’d had to laugh as they’d jostled their way out, like a group of pointy-elbowed bargain hunters in the January sales.

      Today the good weather had put a skip in their step – they were scratching around in the soil, with an occasional dash across the garden if they suspected one of their group had found something worth fighting over. And the news had brought a secret smile to her lips, she couldn’t help it. This could be the start of a massive adventure.

      ‘Are you still there? Miss Jacobs?’

      She was still here. And she knew it was time to stop behaving like a hen and to make a decision. If she did this she was shutting a door for good. Moving on. Which was exciting. But scary.

      ‘Miss Jacobs?’ The tetchy tones scratched their way over the airwaves.

      ‘Yes, sorry.’ She tried to concentrate on what the estate agent was saying, and block out all the conflicting thoughts that were bouncing around in her head.

      She much preferred talking to the young, jolly Simon Proofit who made everything sound like a good idea, than to Mr Bannister who had never told her his first name, and insisted on calling her Miss Jacobs and making her sound like some old spinster.

      It was strange really, Mr Bannister had lived in the village of Langtry Meadows all his life, but his whole manner suggested a brusque, efficient city type. Whereas Simon, who had over an hour’s commute from a suburb of the closest city, always made it seem like working in this tiny village was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

      ‘I suppose you need time to think about it?’ The sharp words were followed by a resigned sigh that rolled towards her in large waves of disappointment. Mr Bannister really wasn’t the man you wanted to start your weekend with. He was enough to rain on anybody’s parade, as her gran would have said.

      The hen that she’d not-so-originally nicknamed Squeak darted forward and tried to wrestle a long worm from Bubble’s beak. They looked like lovers sharing a strand of spaghetti. Bubble flapped with indignation, and Squeak, well squeaked before bustling off in a huff to scratch under the apple tree. She kept cocking her head to one side though, keeping a beady eye on the other hen. Just in case.

      Lucy smiled to herself. Who’d have thought she, Lucy Jacobs, would become an expert on poultry? Well maybe not an expert, but her life had changed beyond recognition in the last twelve months. She’d swapped the hustle and bustle of a city centre school, nestled next to the M6 motorway, for a tiny primary school overlooking a village green, and somehow found time to look after a pig, goose, chickens, cat and fat, naughty pony.

      Taking on a teaching position in the village of Langtry Meadows had, it was fair to say, changed her life. Renting Annie’s cute home, with its overflowing cottage garden and menagerie of animals had, at first, seemed a step too far from her clean and tidy semi-detached house – the only reminder of her old life she’d hung on to.

      She’d rented her home out, fully intending to go back there one day – after her cover position at Langtry Meadows Primary School came to an end. But she’d accepted a permanent position now, and whilst the rent was handy she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever go back there.

      And one day, in the not too distant future, Annie would return from her travels, which could leave her in a bit of a mess if she wasn’t careful. She really did need a plan.

      The city would seem so large, impersonal now. Although she knew that was partly what had originally drawn her there. But living in Langtry Meadows had changed her, she’d realised that this close community of caring people was what she wanted in her life. Not anonymity. And she also wanted a rather gorgeous vet called Charlie sharing her breakfast table, which was part of the problem …

      She hoped her sigh hadn’t travelled down the phone, and decided she better say something just in case he had heard, and thought she wasn’t interested.

      ‘Well, no. I mean yes, I …’ If she did this, if she bought the house that Mr Bannister had told her had just come up for sale in the village, and she sold her house, she was saying goodbye to her old life. She didn’t need to keep a foot in the past, just in case things didn’t work out, did she?

      No, no, she really didn’t. After a fabulous summer of getting to know Charlie Davenport, the village vet, she had to admit, she had dreamed up this strange fantasy that when, if, she settled permanently then it would be in a cottage made for two. Not one.

      But his life was far too complicated for that at the moment. He had a child to consider. They had a child to consider. Adorable little Maisie had to be their main priority.

      Lucy knew what it was like growing up with only one parent, thinking that she wasn’t good enough, thinking she wasn’t loved, wasn’t wanted – and she was determined that Maisie would never feel that way. The little girl would know that Charlie, her father, loved her with all his heart. That Lucy wasn’t going to steal him away.

      When Josie, Charlie’s ex, returned from her six month contract abroad, then it would be the right time for her and Charlie to spend more time together, be more involved, maybe, just maybe, settle down in that dream cottage together. But for now, making sure Maisie felt secure, was happy, was what really mattered.

      She felt the small smile creep over her face as she thought about Charlie. They’d agreed at the start of the summer that they’d take things slowly, see how it went and it had gone – she knew her smile had grown – wonderfully.

      But they didn’t know when Josie would be back, didn’t know what would happen when she returned – whether she’d settle locally with Maisie or not. And until they did, it was hard to see what the future held. What if Josie moved away? What if the only way Charlie could see his daughter was to move as well? What if she couldn’t find a new job close to where they went? What if, what if, there were just so many ‘ifs’, which Lucy wasn’t keen on at all. For a girl who liked to have a plan, be organised, the uncertainty was difficult. But she was learning, getting better at taking each day as it came.

      So really, if she was going to be sensible about this, she had to decide what she really wanted. Now. And worry about the future later – after all if she bought a cottage now, she could always sell it.

      She really had never thought the whole question of buying a house would raise its head for months though, years!

      The estate agent’s crisp tone cut into her thoughts.