‘Perfect, that’s no problem at all.’
‘And it comes with a room above. It’s tiny though, and basic. It’s essentially just a bed with a small bathroom and cooking facilities, but there’s a comfy chair by the window, taking in a view that spans for miles.’
Bea couldn’t think of anything better than waking up to a view of the river for the next two weeks. She could already picture herself sitting in the chair, curled up with a good book whilst watching the river flow by. A huge beam spread across her face. ‘I’m going to just love the next couple of weeks, I can feel it in my bones.’
‘You may change your mind when you see the place – and I need to warn you it will only be minimum wage, and cash in hand if it’s just for two weeks.’
‘That works for me.’ She held out her hand towards Julia and they shook on it wholeheartedly. Bea wasn’t doing it for the money – this was going to be a brilliant distraction whilst she worked out her plan of action.
‘Welcome to Heartcross! You’ve arrived at just the right time.’
Isla leaned on the counter and whispered, ‘There is something I do have to warn you about, though.’
Bea’s eyes widened. ‘Go on.’
‘The Heartcross curse.’
Bea noticed that Julia was chuckling.
‘Once you arrive in Heartcross, you never leave!’ Isla said sagely.
This was the second time today that Bea had heard that, and she was beginning to wonder if there was any truth in it. She gave a nervous but excited laugh.
‘Maybe Heartcross is just the place to heal my broken heart.’
Julia and Isla gave her a knowing look before Bea held out her hand and took the room key from Julia.
She was going to embrace the next two weeks with everything she had. She was beginning to wonder if uprooting her life for good was indeed a possibility.
ChapterThree
After Julia had given Bea directions towards her room, she walked through reception and down a winding hallway. She stopped and admired the walls, which displayed intricate artwork. The whole place had such a good feel about it. At the end of the hall were small steps leading to a cosy reading corner where a pew, arrayed with soft cushions, overlooked the gardens. She passed the communal sitting room and made her way up another small flight of stairs. Bedroom two was straight in front of her.
It was a simple, rustic room featuring a beautiful four-poster bed, which stood out against the white walls with their minimal decoration. A goose-down duvet with Egyptian cotton linen added elegance and charm, and the bed was dressed with dusky pink scatter cushions. She placed her suitcase on the luggage rack and peered out of the open window at acres of lush grasslands, and the proud beauty of the mountains in the distance. As much as the B&B felt warm and cosy and was perfect for her stay, Bea was keen to check out the room above The Little Blue Boathouse.
Feeling exhausted after the long drive, she kicked off her trainers and lay down on the bed. Her thoughts immediately turned to Carl and the relationship she’d thought they’d had. Throughout her late teens, he’d convinced her their future was filled only with loveliness, which was a promise he hadn’t kept. She’d given him a second chance years ago, after discovering his relationship with Philippa, a family friend, but now, after the death of his father, he’d become withdrawn. It was understandable that he would need time to deal with his grief alone, but Bea had discovered it wasn’t the whole truth. He’d struck up another affair with yet another friend of the family, Nicola. Bea was frustrated with herself; she should have by now been able to recognise the signs of his betrayal. He’d continually told her he was very much in love with her but with his infidelities all lines had been blurred, and she couldn’t be sure if he’d ever told her the truth about anything. Bea didn’t know what to believe, but she knew she didn’t want or need to resolve that uncertainty. That was in her past, and making a promise to herself there and then, she vowed to never let a man make her feel this level of anxiety again. She was ready to stand up for her own self-worth and say enough was enough.
Pushing herself off the bed, she wandered into the bathroom and risked a tentative look in the mirror, studying her reflection. The puffiness around her deep hazel eyes indicated to everyone that she’d been crying. After splashing cold water on her face and patting it dry with the towel, Bea gave herself an encouraging smile. ‘You’ve got this, girl,’ she murmured before applying fresh makeup and pulling a brush through her hair.
Ten minutes later, Bea declared herself ready and, despite feeling tired after the long drive, she was ready to explore and see everything that Heartcross had to offer. Her first stop? The Little Blue Boathouse. Picking up a tourist leaflet from the welcome pack on the desk, she studied the map. There were two routes that led her towards the river. One through the high street, past the green and along the public footpath of the Clover Cottage Estate, or she could head back down the gravel path and cut through to the footpath that took her right along the riverbank towards The Little Blue Boathouse. Bea opted for the route along the riverbank but first with a detour to Bonnie’s Teashop. Hearing her phone ring she rummaged in her bag and looked at the screen. Her ex’s name was flashing. She declined the call, switched her phone onto silent and threw it back into her bag.
* * *
Five minutes later, Bea found herself following the delicious aroma filtering from Bonnie’s Teashop to the top of Love Heart Lane. Feeling a rumble in her stomach, she realised she was ravenous, so her plan was to pick up a takeaway pasty and a coffee and head down to the river. Taking in the trendy chalkboard standing on the pavement with specials written on it, and the yellow and white striped awning already shielding the front of the teashop from the glorious sunshine, she smiled. This place looked like a slice of delightful happiness, she thought, as she pushed open the small wooden gate and ambled up the path. The first thing she noticed was the poster in the window advertising the River Festival and right next to that Mystic Martha advertising her psychic predictions at five pounds a reading. Bea stopped and looked over the poster.
‘Highly recommended,’ the girl behind the counter said, looking in Bea’s direction and smiling. ‘Are you thinking of having a reading?’
‘Maybe,’ Bea replied. She didn’t know if she even believed in that sort of stuff but since crossing paths with Martha that morning, she had to admit she was intrigued by her. ‘She’s a very interesting character.’
‘You’ve met our Martha then?’
‘You could say that. I only arrived in Heartcross this morning, and soon afterwards I ran Martha off the road.’
‘Then you must be Bea.’
‘I am! Don’t tell me everyone around here is psychic.’
The girl behind the counter stretched out her hand and shook Bea’s. ‘Not quite.’ She grinned. ‘I’m Felicity. Isla’s one of my best friends and nipped in here after meeting you at the B&B. But nothing gets past anyone in this village. Mark my words.’
