CHAPTER 1

When Ali’s best friend, Freddie, had appeared on her doorstep looking like he’d slept in his clothes but with a life-changing offer, Ali glanced at the notebook she was holding and took a leap of faith. Whoever said life began at fifty clearly hadn’t known about Ali, or Freddie.

‘I need you,’ said Freddie, his thick fringe standing out at all angles, as if he’d run his hands through it a million times.

Her heart had melted for the usually immaculate Freddie. His much-loved smart suits and tailored shirts for his role as an accountant for a big trading company were long gone, she realised. Freddie stood before her – transformed into someone who wore cargo trousers and long-sleeved T-shirts and fretted over every penny of his own income as his new business started imploding.

‘Sorry,’ he added, brushing specks of mud off of his trousers before he stepped over the threshold.

‘We need the weather to heat up and some sunshine to cheer us up,’ said Ali, rubbing her arms for warmth. ‘It might be spring, but it’s unseasonably cold right now.’

‘Never buy a crumbling holiday village on the coast of Dorset – for love,’ Freddie said, his bottom lip wobbling.

Ali winced, then put her arm around him, and he laid his head on hers for a second as she led him into the open-plan kitchen. They both paused to look out over the shoreline through the glass double doors to the garden.

‘This view is a little different to the five acres of over‐ grown land and twelve shabby holiday cottages that Nathan and I bought further along the coast, over a year ago.’ Freddie shuddered.

‘Nathan loved the countryside, sea views, private wood and restaurant, but not the hard work,’ said Ali in sympathy.

‘After a year of relentless struggle, the place is falling apart because of the previous owners’ quick fixes,’ said Fred‐ die, sorrowfully. ‘Much like my ten-year marriage.’

Ali hugged her friend and cursed under her breath at Nathan for the pain he’d caused Freddie.

‘This area is full of hospitality sites, including hotels, bed and breakfasts, and holiday villages, so you should be able to make it work,’ she soothed.

Freddie’s site, once a dream, was now a crumbling nightmare and competition was fierce, which was why she’d told him to carefully consider his initial purchase price. Ali had just read a glossy magazine article about the beach that ran alongside Freddie’s resort, naming it one of the best in the U.K., with its own microclimate in the bay and views across to the Isle of Wight. The golden sands linked Sandbanks and Hengistbury, stretching for nearly ten miles. Ali knew that this brought holidaymakers from far and wide to take in the views, idyllic beaches, cafés and restaurants – attracting over six million visitors a year to the area.

‘What can I do?’ She ushered him to sit on a squishy sand- coloured sofa by the window and hoped he didn’t notice the mess she’d let accumulate since her divorce, giving him a squeeze of solidarity.

Freddie already knew she would help him if she could. Ali recognised that her background in creating memorable stays for holidaymakers meant she had great attention to detail and her communication skills were on point, unless it involved saying no to her ex-husband, James, or her family. She wondered whether Freddie would be aghast or applaud that she hadn’t gone back to her job at her family’s award- winning hotel after a smallish argument with her parents a few days ago. All they ever seemed to do these days was quarrel. He’d always encouraged her to stand up to them, and she usually failed miserably, except this time.

‘Sorry it’s so cold.’ She’d been wearing three jumpers in different shades of taupe, with black leggings and some woolly socks to ward off heating bills, but Freddie didn’t seem to notice. Taking two wineglasses from the kitchen, Ali poured generous glasses of James’ favourite full-bodied and juicy Kalamity Rioja wine, which he’d been saving for a special occasion and forgotten to take with him when he moved out. She savoured her first taste, inhaling the rich and fruity aroma of dark fruit, violets and spice.

‘I need someone to save my holiday village for me.’ Freddie gazed at her hopefully, as he watched over the rim of his glass. ‘I know it’s a big favour to ask and that you work for your family, but I’ve barely got enough money to pay the staff. We can share any profits we make.’ He put down his glass on the teak coffee table, taking her hand in his.

She stared at their interlinked fingers for a moment, stunned into silence, then her brain started filling with ideas. Freddie had been determined to turn things around by himself, but she was glad he’d finally changed his mind.

‘I was too embarrassed about the state of the resort to ask for help. I’m sorry.’ He hung his head.

She gave his shoulder a nudge with her own until he lifted it again.

‘I don’t have money to invest,’ she said with regret. ‘You know that.’ She pulled up her socks and wriggled her toes to get some warmth into them.

She pretended that Freddie’s holiday resort wasn’t an actual nightmare, but in reality, they knew it was. They were both just about surviving a mess not of their own making, and she often wanted to stamp her feet, or cry at the injustice of it all. She hoped to be rid of both her marriage-related nightmares and menopausal issues. After Googling insomnia – and why she might be currently dreaming about her super- annoying and devilishly handsome university boyfriend, Nick – she pressed on. Apparently, thinking about past rela‐ tionships was to be expected after a traumatic breakup. The brain was processing unresolved memories, emotions and desires, she’d read. Although they didn’t mean you wanted to get back with your ex – she certainly didn’t! Supposedly, it could represent a longing for a past version of yourself. That she yearned for. What happened to the bright girl with big dreams?

‘You’re wasted where you are,’ Freddie broke into her thoughts. ‘They don’t appreciate you or make the most of your skill set. You’ve always dreamed of having your own business. Now’s your chance. You can buy in with your knowledge. It would cost a fortune to hire you to turn the place around.’ Ali’s resolve wavered. As a hospitality expert, she had her own expansion plans for her family’s hotel, but she had relegated those dreams to the ‘never gonna happen’ page in her notebook years ago.

‘I’m desperate!’ he added for good measure.

‘Thanks!’ She chuckled.

He grinned, then scowled. ‘The value of the business has pretty much flatlined with all the work that’s required. You told me not to pay so much for the site, but Nathan was set on it. We need a manager with your experience. I’m at a loss as to what to try next.’

‘Okay,’ she said, her stomach bubbling with excitement and fear. ‘I’ve told my parents that I’m taking a leave of absence, so the timing couldn’t be better.’

Freddie’s face broke out into a smile of delight, and he jumped up, pulling her with him. He spun her around until she thought she might be sick. She shouldn’t have drunk wine on an empty stomach, but cooking for one felt tedious. She didn’t mention to Freddie how anxious she’d been lately, or how lonely, even when surrounded by people. Freddie had enough to worry about without her adding her own problems.

‘Maybe a change of direction will help me find an alterna‐ tive path to the one set by my family.’ As best friends, she and Freddie checked in with each other daily, and Freddie never judged her decisions, even if he didn’t agree with them.

‘You’re actually leaving your family hotel?’ Freddie was aghast when he fully realised what she’d said, but she saw the light of hope in his eyes.

‘For a short while. I’m fed up with feeling overworked and underappreciated. It’s time for an adventure.’ She tried not to recall the previous year, when she’d been at the peak of her career – about to step into the pivotal role at her fami‐ ly’s hotel – until James ruined it again.

‘Did James ask your parents for another loan?’

Ali nodded sadly. It had meant the demise of her marriage, too. Every penny of her wage went on his gambling debts, and she was still helping him out now, even though he wasn’t her problem any more. Ali’s grandmother, recognising Ali’s prospects with a husband like James, gifted her the house she grew up in – next door to her family’s hotel, the Royall Natari, where Ali had worked since she was a teenager. Forever grateful to her gran, she wished she’d seen sooner what her grandmother had.

‘You told me you were your grandmother’s little shadow at the hotel,’ said Freddie.

‘I absorbed her skills until I went to university,’ Ali agreed. ‘Hospitality is in my blood. Everything changed when Gran died.’ She blinked back tears because it still felt raw, even years later. ‘I’m tired of running the hotel without the authority to make major changes.’

‘Your parents should have officially handed over the running of the place to you ages ago. It’s basically what you do, anyway. They don’t even live in this country.’

‘I know. This has been brewing for months. Today, I stopped being such a doormat,’ Ali said proudly and then sighed because Freddie looked uncertain, which he quickly tried to hide. ‘I’m going to help you instead.’

‘I can’t thank you enough.’

Freddie’s smile was worth the pain she’d felt all day from arguing with her family via video call from their home in Spain. Remote management was their style.

‘You were born to run your grandmother’s beautiful hotel,’ said Freddie. ‘She basically brought you up on her own since you were ten.’ He shook his head in clear disappointment, the same way he always did when he spoke about her parents.

‘Your parents weren’t around much before that either. They were always making excuses to go travelling,’ Freddie growled in her defence. ‘You running the Royall Natari was Evelyn’s greatest wish. You’re Alison Royall – hotel royalty! I’m sorry for what your parents have put you through.’ It was Freddie’s turn to hug her this time.

She sank into his embrace gratefully.

‘Their loss is your gain,’ Ali said, as both fear and excite‐ ment fizzed in her veins at the prospective challenge ahead of them. ‘Maybe it’s time to show them how I can thrive without them. You know I don’t have structural knowledge, but we can work that out later.’

‘That occurred to me… I enlisted another friend’s help, too.’ Freddie handed her another very full glass of wine. ‘You seem tired.’

‘What friend?’ Ali yawned.

Freddie was mumbling something about travel, but he quickly changed the subject. ‘Nothing for you to worry about. I feel so much calmer now I know we’ll be a team.’

Ali frowned and assumed he must be talking about the staff he already had. Ali had met them several times when she’d popped to the site to see Freddie and Nathan. They had spent many an evening crowded around Freddie’s laptop, trying to learn how to rebuild a stone wall, or to look after the ducks that had settled on their pond.

‘My separation will be finalised soon,’ said Freddie. ‘Thank goodness!’

Ali suspected Freddie would take Nathan back, despite the impending bankruptcy, but who was she to judge when she’d financed her own husband’s debts for years?

‘We need to start seeing new people,’ Freddie joked and waggled his eyebrows at her.

Ali pulled a grossed-out face at the thought of meeting someone new. ‘Neither of us is ready for an assignation. I love you, Freddie, but…’ She grinned cheekily at him.

He swatted her backside with her precious notebook as she jumped up.

‘If we make the resort popular, we might bump into a few handsome guests.’ He laughed.

Ali’s heart skipped a beat. Dating would be a mystery to her after so long. She’d probably bore them with her love of the region and scare them off with her lack of dating experience. She ignored the glint of determination in Freddie’s eyes and opened her notebook.

‘Let’s write a list of improvements we need to make to the resort…’

‘And then a list of changes we need to make to ourselves,’ Freddie added helpfully.

CHAPTER 2

The moment Ali put down the branded pen she’d ‘stolen’ from the Royall Natari and closed her brand-new notebook, a drip of water landed on the slogan on the cover. The words ‘stop procrastinating and start living’ had caught her attention in a gift shop in town, and buying the book had seemed serendipitous. She jumped as another droplet hit the paper, and then another. Looking up, she pushed away from the desk she’d been sitting at as a torrent of water broke through the roof and splashed her clothes and face.

‘Blast!’ She darted a glance around for a bucket, but for now the rusty metal wastepaper basket would have to do. She grabbed her carefully written to-do lists, but water had already doused the notebook, so she groaned and dropped it on the edge of the overstuffed bookshelf at the back of the room.

Her lovely white blouse! Ali cringed as she looked down at it in disgust, just as Freddie walked in with two bright orange buckets. He quickly swapped the bin for a bucket and gave the full one to the man beside him, who was staring at her in surprise. Ali froze in shock.

‘Are you okay?’ Freddie took in her bedraggled appear‐ ance as he placed the bin on the floor by the door.

Her white blouse and black jeans were clinging to her body, but she plastered on a bright smile. ‘Um… Freddie…’ she murmured, trying desperately to slick back her hair and stand up straighter, her cheeks blazing in mortification. She’d worn the tight jeans to squeeze in her wobbly bits because she couldn’t afford those fancy ‘hold-em-in’ knicker shorts she’d seen advertised on social media. Now they had a death grip on her bum.

‘Did you fall asleep on the reception desk again?’ asked Freddie, sounding scandalised. ‘You were groaning. Did you hurt yourself?’

Ali looked around the unkempt room that was full of broken chairs and half-dead plants, and her face flamed. She should have tidied up earlier, but the amount of work the site needed was overwhelming. Her expectation was that no one besides staff would walk into reception during the renova‐ tion process.

She nodded a brief greeting to the man beside Freddie, who nodded back. What the hell was he doing in reception?

‘One of my notebooks is soaked,’ said Ali, looking at it sorrowfully. Her notebook collection was getting out of hand, but she loved every single one of them, and they contained her vital lists. They helped her streamline her thoughts before they became chaotic. ‘It was full of my latest plans for your holiday village. We have guests arriving in a matter of weeks.’

‘More plans?’ Freddie seemed horrified. ‘You gave me a list three days ago!’

Ali decided now was not the time to tell her closest friend that list should have been finished by now. He was supposed to take down any broken signage and dump spare furniture lying around the resort in the barn. Plus, about eight more tasks.

‘We need every customer we can get if we are going to turn this place around,’ she reminded him. ‘Don’t worry, though. We will get there.’

She frowned at the interloper, and he frowned back. He clearly hadn’t been expecting her either.

She wished she felt as confident as she sounded, but Freddie was the closest thing she had to a brother, and she would drop everything for him. In fact, she had. She just hadn’t told her family that she was taking a longer sabbatical from her job as general dogsbody at their stunning beach‐ front hotel yet. This place needed her, and weirdly, she kind of needed it back. No one here knew she was a failure… yet.

‘You’ll get there, you mean,’ said Freddie. ‘I don’t feel like I’m contributing as much as I should. I’m happier with my nose stuck in the accountancy books. It’s why I asked Nick to step in.’

He moved aside so Nick could greet her, and they both plastered on false smiles, but stayed apart.

‘I know you will have to get back to your job at the hotel at some point,’ her friend continued.

‘About that…’

‘Nick is used to building resorts and you run them, so I thought…’

Ali gave Freddie a warning stare and he flushed and stopped talking.

Could this day get much worse? ‘Hello, Nick. Long time no see,’ she said feebly, extending a damp hand before drop‐ ping it back to her side.

Nick smiled at her with amusement and then gazed at the gaping hole in the ceiling. He then ran his eyes over the room, seeming to assess the building – and her, which made Ali scowl. Their interactions throughout the years had been few, restricted to professional courtesy. Mostly, communica‐ tion went through Freddie, who was friends with both of them.

Ali assumed Freddie had asked Nick to assist after she mentioned building walls. Her big mouth should have stayed shut. She didn’t need his help. She tried not to pry into Freddie and Nick’s bi-weekly chats. Not knowing was easier. It still stung the teeniest bit that Nick was in Freddie’s life, but it hurt less because he lived so far away. She’d missed Nick’s friendship for a very long time, but she’d got over that years ago. Working for her family had become her focus back then.

‘Is this the area you want me to fix?’ Nick asked Freddie, with a quirk of his lips, though his gaze remained fixed upon Ali, who was silently furious.

Freddie shook his head, giving Ali a half-smile of apology. Ali gloomily glanced down at her sodden feet and cringed in disgust as she raised one foot and then gingerly put it down again as it squelched. The water had soaked her socks and trainers.

It was as if she’d manifested Nick, since they hadn’t physi‐ cally crossed paths in more than two decades and, frustrat‐ ingly, he was better looking now than in her imagination. Not that she imagined her first love often… but it was happening more since her divorce. At over six feet tall, Nick’s height was an attribute she’d loved, as were his broad shoulders and beautiful smoky blue eyes. She noted his thick black hair had a dash of grey here and there, which, annoyingly, made him even more attractive. Even in dark jeans and a simple black polo shirt, he oozed sex appeal. It really wasn’t fair.

‘Um… You’re here to fix the roof? I thought you lived in Manhattan?’

Freddie patted her hand in sympathy, and Nick grinned, which made her blood warm up.

‘I told you Nick was going to be visiting,’ Freddie explained, looking away shiftily. ‘He’s offered to help, too.’

Ali recalled him mumbling something under his breath about a team the previous week and then changing the subject when she’d asked him to repeat himself.

The butterflies she’d had for Nick when they’d dated at university had flown away years ago, so she was pretty embarrassed that today was the day they came back. She definitely wasn’t still attracted to him, and it was perfectly healthy for a fifty-two-year-old who suffered with hot flushes to have an occasional fantasy about an ex, provided no one discovered it. Freddie would never let her hear the end of it and would assume it meant something deeper, but that ship had sailed decades ago. A woman had needs, which was probably why he’d crept back into her thoughts. Loneli‐ ness had a lot to answer for, she decided.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, which were red and painful from her recent lack of sleep. Luckily, the leak in the ceiling was now a steady drip, as the rain had disappeared almost as soon as it had arrived. A perfect day in the picturesque Dorset countryside. She shook her head in despair and then dredged up a welcoming smile for their visitor.

‘I arrived back from America a week ago,’ Nick said, as she tried and failed to stop her eyes tracing the contours of his athletic body. Women’s eyes had always followed him across the room, but it hadn’t bothered her, weirdly. She’d been in a love bubble. He’d behaved like a one-woman man, and she’d stupidly believed him.

‘Mum’s not been well.’

Ali’s face fell, and she grabbed a towel from under the counter, which was also mostly soaking wet, and found a dry corner to rub her face with.

‘That’s awful! I used to love chatting with your mum. I still bump into her sometimes.’

‘Mum mentioned seeing you.’ A frown creased Nick’s face; he was lost in thought for a moment, before he shook it off.

‘So… does she need anything? Is she feeling better yet?’ Ali didn’t want to push him, but she adored his mum, Maggie, and they had been close when Ali and Nick had dated, as Ali’s own parents spent half of their lives abroad and ignored her most of the time. Ali and Nick had spent practically every moment together since they met in their university halls, until he started working in America. Before he left, she’d wrongly believed he was her soulmate.

‘Mum had pneumonia, but she’s improving now that I’m home. All she needs is some rest,’ said Nick.

‘Okay. Maybe I could pop in and see her sometime.’

‘Sure.’ Nick shrugged.

Ali’s face flamed because his enthusiasm for her involve‐

ment in his life knew no bounds, it seemed. She had attempted a reconciliation previously for Freddie’s sake, yet encountered icy resistance, which she’d understood. Her reaction to his actions back then had been pretty poor, too. Plus, it was why she was currently in such a mess from her most recent relationship. Had the breakup with Nick all those years ago taught her nothing? She turned away and grabbed more towels to mop up the detritus from the impromptu indoor waterfall.

‘I’m sure we can find someone else to fix the roof,’ she babbled on, her body shivering with cold, but she refused to show how ridiculous she felt. ‘You just bought a hotel chain in America.’

Nick quirked an eyebrow, and she saw humour spark in his beautiful blue eyes. She cursed her big mouth.
‘You’ve been keeping up with my latest news?’

‘I told her,’ butted in Freddie, kindly. ‘Ali has been helping me with this disaster of a place and…’

‘It’s not a disaster!’ Ali and Nick protested in unison. Their eyes locked fleetingly, and she felt a flash of something she didn’t understand, but then looked away.

‘This place definitely has potential,’ soothed Nick. He’d always been the rock of their university friendship group. Until he left. ‘Ali and I will help you.’

Ali rolled her eyes because she’d already been helping for a week, and she might be busy running her family hotel for all he knew, rather than being the undervalued minion she actually was. They’d achieved quite a lot at Freddie’s resort in the past week, though you wouldn’t believe it from the mess in reception.

‘Look. I need to get changed. I’ve got my gardening clothes in the car.’

‘How is James?’ Nick asked about the man she’d rebounded with, married and had two children with.

Ali’s head whipped round, and her cheeks flushed. ‘He’s fine, thanks.’

Freddie looked at her in confusion and she gave him a warning stare.

‘I’d better find some dry clothes before I freeze to death,’ she murmured as her teeth chattered. Where were those damn hot flushes when she needed them?

She stomped outside, leaving Nick and Freddie staring after her, and wondered how long Nick would be there for. He’d be jetting back to his penthouse now that his mum was on the mend, wouldn’t he? The rain had eased off, so she could get to her car without another drenching, but it seemed to fit her mood and she scowled at a passing hedge‐ hog, making it scurry away.

She would have to make some hard decisions about her own future soon. Ali slicked back her blonde hair with her hands and tied it into a high ponytail with a hairband from her jeans pocket. Her green eyes were usually pretty sparkling, but these days they carried too many bags, and her bones ached with tiredness. She searched through her clut‐ tered handbag for some make-up, sighing at her stupidity. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, especially not Nick. His behaviour rivalled that of James, and both of them had broken her heart.

CHAPTER 3

Ali headed across the field to the cottages after deciding there was no way she could get into her car and drive home in her current soggy attire. She exhaled, opening the door to Ivy Cottage, her favourite of the cottages, but the one that had the crumbliest walls and too many damp patches. Months of work remained to be done in the village, despite Freddie and Ali’s patch-ups. They couldn’t afford professionals. Hence Nick’s visit, she surmised. Why hadn’t Freddie warned her Nick would be here? She guessed it was likely because he knew she’d skip her shift.

Resting in the large armchair before the wood-burning stove, she quickly lit a fire to warm herself, because she was tired of feeling cold. She sighed and hauled herself up, changing from damp jeans and a pretty white blouse, which was clinging to her boring white bra, she realised with a groan, to dry jeans and an oversized cream hoodie. When had she become so beige? she wondered. She wished she had a stash of spare lacy lingerie in her glove compartment for those intimate moments with a lover. What lover? The thought of getting naked in front of anyone again after years of James’ indifference made her want to die inside. A brief memory of Nick’s effect upon her surfaced, yet she dismissed it rapidly. Nick belonged to her past.

‘Oh! Sorry,’ said Pam, the holiday village’s housekeeper, as she bustled through the door. She tried to turn and leave when she saw Ali slumped in the armchair, wriggling her toes at the fire.

‘It’s okay, Pam. Come in,’ said Ali, her cheeks flushing because her job didn’t include napping at the reception desk or in the cottages. ‘I shouldn’t be sitting here.’

Pam gave her one of her pertinent looks that told Ali she agreed, and Ali groaned and pulled herself out of the chair. The fire was crackling in the hearth and filling the room with the scent of wood smoke, but it was also bellowing out a lot of dust. Ali coughed and stood up, but her body protested. She’d probably been asleep here for longer than she’d realised. Insomnia had a lot to answer for. It took her ages to doze off at night, and she woke up more exhausted than when she’d slipped into bed. Cold seeped into her bones, and she hoped she wouldn’t start to feel unwell. That was the last thing Freddie needed when he’d begged for her help.

‘I saw the smoke and thought…’
‘You did the right thing to check,’ soothed Ali.
Pam bustled past her but took little notice, probably

because she had been working at the holiday cottages long before Freddie and Nathan had rocked up and taken over. She clearly didn’t approve of them, or Ali. Pam shook her head in disgust, as if reading her thoughts. She picked up a bright orange cushion that Nathan had made Freddie buy for each cottage, with matching bedspreads. She always wore bright stripy socks with her uniform of jeans and a white shirt. Her outfit matched the colour scheme. Despite this, she seemed to dislike anything Freddie or Nathan chose. It had been a bit of a battle of wills to get her to wear black and white, and Ali secretly liked her defiance with the socks. The colour of the décor hurt Ali’s eyes, but they couldn’t afford to replace it yet. Nathan should have spent money on renovating the cottages instead of frivolities that didn’t matter, but she couldn’t hurt Freddie any more than he already had been by telling him.

Pam expertly emptied the bins and gave the bathroom a wipe round, and Ali felt like she was in the way when Pam grimaced and rubbed her hip, limping slightly.

‘Are you okay?’ Ali asked in concern.

‘It’s nothing,’ Pam shot back waspishly. Ali had heard that Pam, reed thin and sixty-five, loved rock climbing and road running. Ali’s fitness paled in comparison, but she hadn’t seen Pam jogging around the site before work recently. Because Pam was one of only two housekeepers they could afford, Ali needed her to be at her best. Pam was also the most experienced member of staff, even though she clearly disapproved of the new management team. Freddie was oblivious, fortunately.

‘Ah… okay… If you need a rest, use the staff room.’

The word staff room was a stretch, as it was more of a storage space, but Ali was determined to make a place for the staff to rest between shifts. They worked incredibly hard, and Ali knew Freddie needed them all to keep the place running. She’d also just had an idea after seeing her own wet shirt and remembering that sweeping Mr Darcy moment in her favourite romance book, Pride and Prejudice, where he had appeared in a drenched shirt and made half of the popu‐ lation swoon. Many famous books, including Jane Austen’s Persuasion, were set in Dorset, and Ali considered how that could help the holiday village. So many people loved books!

Ali was detail-driven, and although she herself didn’t want to cook, she understood that there was tremendous growth in café and gift shop combinations, which might work for Freddie and the holiday village. She considered whether they could organise bookish retreats or invite local writers to give talks on-site. Food businesses on their own were a tough option, but bring in a garden centre element or shopping and the combination could be incredible if you got it right. People had to diversify. Dorset had inspired many writers, from Thomas Hardy to Enid Blyton, so maybe she could move her own giant book collection here and guests could enjoy it as part of their holiday. There was definitely space to create a reading corner here. She would eventually flesh out her ideas. Perhaps she could ask local artisans to create mini free libraries crafted out of driftwood. She could place them beside the seating benches overlooking the sea.

‘I don’t need a rest!’ Pam huffed, interrupting her train of thought. ‘I require space to get on with my job.’ She looked at the fire grate that would now need cleaning.

This cottage was rarely let out, so Ali hadn’t seen a problem with sheltering from the smattering of rain there, but she winced as she realised she needed to consider the staff more. No more fires.

‘Now that I’ve changed into dry clothes, I’m heading back to reception. I’ll come back and clean out the hearth later,’ said Ali, eager to note down her new ideas.

Pam ignored her again and went back into the bathroom with her bucket of cleaning supplies, making Ali add getting proper cleaning caddies to her endless list of the business’ needs. It couldn’t be good for Pam’s back to be holding the heavy bucket over her arm as she walked between the cottages and back to reception. Freddie had two golf carts that were used to drop off customers’ luggage and collect the refuse each night, but the cleaning team could do with one to carry the linens and welcome packs that Ali had planned. She picked up her soaking wet clothes with a grimace and didn’t dare ask Pam for a carrier bag. Ali was glad that Freddie had an experienced staff member, yet the woman’s hostility puzzled her. Perhaps too much had changed recently, or Pam was like that with everyone. Ali shrugged because she didn’t have time to worry about Pam now. Weekly arguments with her parents wore her down and they hadn’t found a resolu‐ tion for her role at their hotel over the past week. Her lips drooped at the thought and she wished they could speak to each other like adults and not as parents and their unruly child. She was over fifty!

She also had a huge ‘annoying ex’ issue in reception and she hoped he’d be flying back to America soon, because she wasn’t sure her nerves could stand having him around too much. She hated that she’d still felt drawn to him. He was a high-powered businessman now, who built resorts, and he hadn’t seemed too happy to see her again.

Ali pictured them snuggling together to read their favourite books in his mother’s lounge, while Maggie had been on a rare visit to see his dad in America. They’d spent more of the evening kissing than reading, but she still thought about that time. She had stayed with Nick for two blissful weeks following graduation, and soon after that, her world had fallen apart. They’d been the perfect couple for almost four years – she’d thought – but it had all been a lie. Nick had travelled back and forth to America a few times to help his dad build his business there, and she hadn’t under‐ stood the tension it had created. He’d return grumpy and distracted, and a distance had grown between them that she’d hated. They’d normally talked things through, and rarely argued, but something had been wrong, and she hadn’t been able to pinpoint it until her world was shattered.

She’d been thankful for James’ support at the time, but she’d been inconsolable for months. Then she’d accepted that Nick wasn’t the person she’d believed him to be, despite his pleadings for her to listen to his reasoning, and she had finally moved on. He’d acted as if his heart was breaking too, but she was sure that couldn’t have been further from the truth. It had taken her a while to realise that rebounding with James hadn’t been her best idea, but she’d really thought she’d loved him back then. He’d been attentive, loving and present, everything, in her opinion, that Nick had forgotten how to be. She blinked back tears, refusing to let the sombre memories drag her down. Nick had prioritised his business and another woman back then, a choice seemingly beneficial for him; she scowled. He graced the covers of glossy international magazines, while she toiled away at the back of beyond in a failing holiday village. The last part at least, she was determined to change.

I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. Book 2 is Confetti & Cupcakes at Cornflower Cove (book-themed weddings!). Book 3 is about the on-site bookshop.

Click here to order your copy! Out on the 15th July.