Spring at Lavender Bay Read online




  A season for change…?

  Beth Reynolds loved growing up close to Eleanor’s Emporium – a brick-a-back shop full of wonders on Lavender Bay. Devastated to learn that Eleanor has died, she returns home from London immediately and is shocked to discover that the elderly lady has left the shop to her!

  Vowing to restore it to its former glory, she only intends to stay until the end of the season. Although the longer she spends in the colourful seaside town, the more she falls back in love with everything she left behind…and quite possibly, with her best friend Eliza’s older brother, local chef Sam Barnes!

  Why didn’t she notice he was quite this gorgeous before? And will their spring fling be enough to convince her to stay?

  Don’t miss Spring at Lavender Bay, the first book in the enchanting Lavender Bay trilogy! Perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley, Rachael Lucas and Hilary Boyd.

  SARAH BENNETT

  has been reading for as long as she can remember. Raised in a family of bookworms, her love affair with books of all genres has culminated in the ultimate Happy Ever After: getting to write her own stories to share with others.

  Born and raised in a military family, she is happily married to her own Officer (who is sometimes even A Gentleman). Home is wherever he lays his hat, and life has taught them both that the best family is the one you create from friends as well as relatives.

  When not reading or writing, Sarah is a devotee of afternoon naps and sailing the high seas, but only on vessels large enough to accommodate a casino and a choice of restaurants.

  You can connect with her via twitter @Sarahlou_writes or on Facebook www.facebook.com/SarahBennettAuthor

  Also by

  Sarah Bennett

  The Butterfly Cove Series

  Sunrise at Butterfly Cove

  Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove

  Christmas at Butterfly Cove

  The Lavender Bay Series

  Spring at Lavender Bay

  Summer at Lavender Bay

  Snowflakes at Lavender Bay

  Spring at Lavender Bay

  Sarah Bennett

  ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

  Copyright

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

  Copyright © Sarah Bennett 2018

  Sarah Bennett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for 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, downloaded, 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.

  E-book Edition © February 2018 ISBN: 978-0-00-828132-8

  This book is for every girl who struggled to find her place in the world.

  And for every woman who finally found it.

  Contents

  Cover

  Blurb

  Author Bio

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Acknowledgements

  Excerpt

  Endpages

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  ‘Sort this for me, Beth.’ A green project folder thumped down on the side of Beth Reynold’s desk, sending her mouse arrow skittering across the screen and scattering the calculation in her head. Startled, she glanced up to see a wide expanse of pink-shirted back already retreating from her corner desk pod. Darren Green was her team leader, and the laziest person to grace the twelfth floor of Buckland Sheridan in the three years she’d been working there. She eyed the folder with a growing sense of trepidation. Whatever he’d dumped on her—she glanced at the clock—at quarter to four on a Friday afternoon was unlikely to be good news. Well, it would just have to wait. Sick and tired of Darren expecting her to drop everything, she ground her teeth and forced herself to ignore the file and focus on the spreadsheet in front of her.

  Fifteen minutes later, with the workbook updated, saved and an extract emailed to the client, Beth straightened up from her screen. Her right ankle ached from where she’d hooked her foot behind one of the chair legs and there was a distinct grumble from the base of her spine. Shuffling her bottom back from where she’d perched on the edge of the cushioned seat, she gave herself a mental telling off. There was no point in the company spending money on a half-decent orthopaedic chair when she managed to contort herself into the worst possible sitting positions.

  Her eyes strayed to the left where the file lurked like a malevolent toad. If she turned just so, she could accidentally catch it with her elbow and knock it into the wastepaper basket sitting beside her desk. Brushing off the tempting idea, she grabbed her mug and stood up. Her eyes met Ravi’s over the ugly blue partition dividing their desks and she waggled her cup at him. ‘Fancy a brew?’

  He glanced at his watch, then laughed, showing a set of gorgeous white teeth. ‘Why am I even checking the time; it’s not like I’m going to refuse a coffee, is it?’

  Everything about Ravi was gorgeous, she mused on the way to the kitchenette which served their half of the huge open-plan office. From his thick black hair and matching dark eyes, to the hint of muscle beneath his close-fitting white shirt—the only thing more gorgeous than Ravi was his boyfriend, Callum.

  Though she’d never admit it to anyone other than Eliza and Libby, she had a huge crush on her co-worker. Not that she would, or could, ever do anything about it, but that wasn’t the point. Ravi being unobtainable and entirely uninterested in her as anything other than a friend and co-worker made him perfectly safe. And it gave her a good excuse for not being interested in anyone else. An excuse to avoid dipping her badly-scorched toes back into the dating pool. Once had been more than enough.

  Until she recovered from the unrequited attraction, there wasn’t room in her heart for anyone else. She could marvel at the length of the black lashes framing his eyes and go home alone, entirely content to do so. He was the best non-boyfriend she’d had since Mr Lassiter, her Year Ten history teacher. He also provided a foil on those rare occasions she spoke to her mother these days. Lying to her didn’t sit well with Beth, but it was better than the alternative—being nagged to ‘get back on the horse’, to ‘put herself out there’, to ‘settle down’.

  Eliza and Libby knew all about both the hopeless crush and her using a fake relationship with Ravi as a shield against her mo
ther’s interference. And if they didn’t entirely support the white lie, they at least understood the reasons behind it. Just like they’d known everything about her since the first day they’d started at primary school together. They knew what her mum was like, and they understood why Beth preferred the harmless pretence of an unrequited crush. She’d never been one for boyfriends growing up, and the more her mum had pushed her, the more she’d dug her heels in.

  Beth had been eight years old when her dad had walked out with not so much as a backward glance. Her mum had spent the rest of Beth’s formative years obsessed with finding a replacement for him—only one who could provide the financial security she craved. Before he’d left, there’d been too many times her mum had gone to pay a bill only to find the meagre contents of their account missing. If Allan Reynolds hadn’t frittered it away in the bookies, he’d blown it on his next get-rich-quick scheme. Given the uncertainty of those early years, she had some sympathy for her mum’s position. If only she’d been less mercenary about it. A flush of embarrassed heat caught Beth off guard as she remembered the not-so whispered comments about Linda Reynolds’ shameless campaign to catch the eye—and the wallet—of newly-widowed Reg Walters, her now husband.

  Determined not to emulate Linda, Beth had clung fiercely to the idea of true love. She had even thought she’d found it for a while, only to have her heart broken in the most clinical fashion the previous summer. Trying to talk to her mother about it had been an exercise in futility. Linda had no time for broken hearts. Move on, there’s plenty more fish in the sea. She’d even gone so far as to encourage Beth to flirt with her useless lump of a boss for God’s sake. Beth shuddered at the very idea. In the end, she’d resorted to making up a romance with Ravi just to keep Linda off her back.

  Beth clattered the teaspoon hard against Ravi’s coffee cup, scattering her wandering thoughts. Balancing the tea and coffee mugs in hand, she returned to her coveted corner of the office. People had offered her bribes for her spot, but she’d always refused, even if sitting under the air-conditioning tract meant she spent half the summer in a thick cardigan. Her cubicle with a view over the grimy rooftops of London was worth its weight in gold. When her work threatened to overwhelm her, she needed only to swivel on her chair and glance out at the world beyond to remind herself how much she’d achieved. The ant-sized people on the pavement scurried around, travelling through the arteries and veins of the city, pumping lifeblood into the heart of the capital.

  Moving to London had been another sop to Linda. Based on her mother’s opinion, a stranger would believe Lavender Bay, the place where Beth had been born and raised, was akin to hell on earth. A shabby little seaside town where nothing happened. She’d moved there after marrying Beth’s father and being stuck on the edge of the country had chafed her raw, leaving her feeling like the world was passing her by. When her new husband, Reg, had whisked her off to an apartment in Florida, weeks before Beth’s fourteenth birthday, all of Linda’s dreams had come true. She’d never stopped to consider her daughter’s dreams in the process.

  Though she’d never been foolish enough to offer a contradictory opinion, Beth had always loved Lavender Bay. The fresh scent of the sea blowing in through her bedroom window; the sweeter, stickier smells of candy floss and popcorn during high season. Running free on the beach, or exploring the woods and rolling fields which provided a backdrop to their little town. And, of course, there was Eleanor.

  The older woman had taken Beth under her wing and given her a Saturday morning job at the quirky seaside emporium she owned. The emporium had always been a place of wonder to Beth, with new secrets to be discovered on the crowded shelves. Hiding out in there had also given her a haven from Linda’s never-ending parade of boyfriends. Beth suspected she’d been offered the few hours work more to provide Eleanor with some companionship than any real requirement for help.

  When it had looked like Beth would have to quit school because of Linda and Reg’s relocation plans, Eleanor had intervened and offered to take her in. Linda had bitten her hand off, not wanting the third-wheel of an awkward teenage daughter to interrupt her plans. It hadn’t mattered a jot that a single woman nearing seventy might not be the ideal person to raise a shy fourteen-year-old. Thankfully, Eleanor had been young at heart and delighted to have Beth live with her. She’d treated her as the daughter she’d never had, and Beth had soaked up the love she offered like a sponge.

  Under Eleanor’s steady, gentle discipline Beth had finally started to come into her own, Desperate not to disappoint her mum in the way everyone else had seemed to do, Beth worked hard to get first the GCSEs and then A levels she’d needed in order to go to university. With no real career prospects in Lavender Bay, she’d headed for the capital, much to Linda’s delight. Her mother’s influence had been too pervasive and those early lessons in needing a man to complete her had stuck fast. When Charlie had approached her one night in a club, Beth had been primed and ready to fall in love.

  For the first couple of years working at the prestigious project management company of Buckland Sheridan, she’d convinced herself that these were her own dreams she was following, and that her hard work and diligence would pay off. Lately she’d come to the realisation she was being used whilst others reaped the rewards. Demotivated and demoralised, she was well and truly stuck in a cubicle-shaped rut.

  Raising the mug of tea to her lips, Beth watched as the street lights flickered on below, highlighting the lucky workers spilling out of the surrounding office blocks. Some rushing towards the tube station at the end of the road, others moving with equal enthusiasm in the opposite direction towards the pubs and restaurants, rubbing their hands together at the thought of twofers and happy hour. Good luck to them. Those heady nights in crowded bars with Charlie and his friends had never really suited her.

  Checking the calendar, Beth bit back a sigh. She was overdue a weekend visit to the bay, not that Eleanor would ever scold or complain about how much time it had been since she’d last seen her. She’d tuck Beth onto the sofa with a cup of tea and listen avidly to all the goings on in her life. Not that there’d been much of anything to report other than work lately. Unless she counted the disastrous Christmas visit to see her mum and Reg in Florida, and Beth had spent the entire month of January trying to forget it.

  Even surrounded by Charlie’s upper-class pals she’d never felt more like a fish out of water than she had during that week of perma-tanned brunches and barbecues. She would much rather have gone back to Lavender Bay and Eleanor’s loving warmth, but Linda had organised a huge party to celebrate her 10th wedding anniversary to Reg, and insisted she needed Beth by her side. Having people believe she had the perfect family had always mattered more to Linda than making it a reality.

  With a silent promise to call Eleanor for a long chat on Sunday, Beth drained her tea and turned back to her work. The dreaded contents of the file Darren had dumped on her had to be better than thinking about than the surprise date her mum had set her up with on New Year’s Eve. She glanced across the partition between their desks. Ravi might be gay, but at least he had all his own teeth and didn’t dye his hair an alarming shade Beth had only been able to describe to a hysterical Eliza and Libby as ‘marmalade’.

  Ravi caught her eye and smiled. ‘Hey, Beth?’ He pointed to the phone tucked against his ear. ‘Callum wants to know if you’re busy on Sunday. We’re having a few friends around for a bite to eat. Nothing fancy.’ They exchanged a grin. Nothing fancy in Callum’s terms would be four courses followed by a selection of desserts.

  ‘Sounds great. Can I let you guys know tomorrow?’ It wasn’t like she had anything else planned, but going on Darren’s past record whatever was hiding in the file he’d dumped on her would likely mean she’d be working most of the weekend.

  Ravi nodded and conveyed her reply into the handset. He rolled his eyes at something Callum said in reply and Beth propped her hands on her hips. ‘If he’s telling you about this great guy he knows who
’d be just perfect for me then I’m not coming. Not even for a double helping of dessert.’ The only person more disastrous at matchmaking than her mother was Callum.

  Her friend laughed. ‘You’re busted!’ he said into the phone then tilted it away from his mouth to say to Beth in a teasing, sing-song voice, ‘He’s a very fine man with good prospects. All his own teeth!’ She closed her eyes, regretting confessing all about the New Year’s date to Ravi on their first day back after the Christmas break. He’d never let her live it down.

  She shook her head. ‘Aren’t they all? I’ll message you tomorrow.’ Which was as good as accepting the invitation. There was always a good mix at their parties and the atmosphere relaxed. Leaving Ravi to finish off his conversation, she turned her attention to the dreaded file.

  Three hours and several coins added to the swear jar on her desk later, she decided she had enough information together to be able to complete the required draft report and presentation at home. Darren had left the office on the dot of five, laughing with his usual pack of cronies as they made their way towards the lifts. He’d not even bothered to check in with her on his way out, assuming she would do whatever was necessary to ensure their department was ready for the client meeting on Tuesday. The project had been passed to him by one of the directors a fortnight previously, but either through incompetence or arrogance he’d chosen to do absolutely nothing with it.

  Stuffing the file, a stack of printouts, and her phone into the backpack she used in lieu of a handbag, Beth swapped her heels for the comfy trainers under her desk and disconnected her laptop from the desk terminal. Coat on and scarf tucked around the lower half of her face, she waved goodnight to Sandie, the cleaner, and trudged out of the office.

  The worst of the commuting crowd had thinned so at least she had a seat on the train as it hurtled through the dank Victorian tunnels of the Underground. The heating had been turned up full blast against the February chill but, like most of the hardened travellers around her, Beth ignored the sweat pooling at the base of her spine and kept her eyes glued on the screen of her phone. Music filled her ears from the buds she’d tucked in the moment she’d stepped on board, drowning out the scritch-scritch of a dozen other people doing exactly the same thing.