As sweet and satisfying as strawberries and cream! This British summertime, get out in the garden with Rebecca Pugh’s sparkling debut novel.

Home is where the heart is…

Jessica McAdams has never belonged anywhere; never truly felt at home. Of course, what did she expect with parents who never made her feel welcome in her own house? Leaving her life in London to return home to the charming country village of Bluebell Hill is harder than she thought. Especially as she never considered she’d be returning under such heart-wrenching circumstances…

Clearing out the stunning and imposing Bluebell House after her parents’ death is difficult for Jessica—they never had the best relationship and now it’s too late. Yet spending time in the house that was never a home, having afternoon tea with dear old friend Esme—and sharing hot, sizzling kisses with delectable gardener Rueben!—opens Jessica’s eyes to the potential of Bluebell House… Could this big old, beautiful manor really be her forever home? Is Bluebell Hill where her heart is, has always been?

Jessica soon dares to dream of her very own home with delicious Rueben by her side. But when the deep, dark secret of Bluebell House is unearthed, Jessica’s world is turned upside down…

Will Jessica ever find where her heart truly lies?

An emotional tale of self-discovery, taking chances and romance! Rebecca’s unique British voice feels like coming home again and again.

Return to Bluebell Hill

Rebecca Pugh

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Rebecca Pugh 2015

Rebecca Pugh 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 © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474035576

Version date: 2018-07-23

REBECCA PUGH grew up in the green county of Shropshire, with a mind full of fairy-tales and happy endings. Enchanted by true love and Disney Princesses, she decided that no matter what life threw her way, she’d continue to see the world through a child’s eyes. Through the pages of countless books, her adoration of reading blossomed, and it didn’t take long for her to fall under the spell of hundreds of authors’ words.

Now, Rebecca’s own story has taken a fairy-tale like turn, and at 22, her dream has come true. With her faithful companions Bonnie the dog, her partner, and her gigantic family by her side, Rebecca is ready to share her stories with readers who enjoy falling in love and losing themselves within beautiful, fictional worlds.

Rebecca Pugh is the author of women’s fiction and romance, her all-time favourite genres. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a good swoon? Return to Bluebell Hill is her debut novel.

There are a ton of people who I need to thank in these acknowledgements.

First of all, my publishers, for giving me that chance. My angel-of-an-editor, for helping me to make the most of that chance. My lovely, lovely blogger and author friends who have shared in my excitement, cheered me on and made me realise that I am so much more than what I ever thought I was. Mum, for being the incredible woman that you are and for making me feel like I’m an incredible woman, too. Shaun, for all of those coffees and all of your love. Bonnie the dog, for keeping me company on the lonely days. My crazy, chaotic family, my wonderful friends, and everyone in-between. Thank you all.

Mum, who has always been the biggest part of my sparkle, this one’s for you.

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

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

Epilogue

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Bye-bye, home.

With her nose squished against the window, Jessica McAdams watched with a heavy heart as the familiar setting of London whooshed by. The busy restaurants, the towering office blocks, the bustling streets … She was going to miss it while she was gone. Her destination wouldn’t hold the same hustle and bustle, the same attraction nor the same excitement… It wouldn’t even come close.

A small sigh escaped her as it all disappeared, the buildings and streets swapped for trees and green fields.

She wondered how she was going to get through the next few weeks. Her job in one of London’s most popular publishing houses Partridge & Co. propelled her out of her much-loved apartment and into the busy streets with a spring to her step each morning. She loved it completely; the thrill, the buzz, and the energy that thrummed through the third floor each time she stepped out of the elevator. She was certain that not many people could say that they loved their job as much as she did and actually mean it. Her stomach turned at the thought of abandoning it.

Her job wasn’t the only thing that she was leaving behind. Her best friend Sarah was another aspect of her life that she didn’t want to leave in London. All of these things made her who she was, but she had to go back. She didn’t have a choice in the matter. It didn’t make her decision any easier to come to terms with though.

Realising that there was no point in wallowing in self-pity, Jessica removed her nose from the window and shifted uncomfortably in the seat. No matter how much she wriggled she couldn’t find a comfortable position. She wasn’t entirely sure whether that was to do with the seat itself or just her own internal, emotional discomfort. The red lever intended for an emergency stop was in her line of sight and for a few heart-racing seconds she considered yanking it down and escaping into the woodland that surrounded the tracks. The urge to do so dissolved into acceptance of her fate when she remembered that someone was waiting for her at the end of the journey. Someone important. Her heart began to hammer again.

She sat alone in the compartment with only her thoughts for company, although the chatter of other passengers could be heard. Snippets of conversation kept winging their way towards her. They were providing background noise if nothing else. Her black, bulky suitcase sat next to her on the seat, reminding her constantly of where she was headed. The clothes had been rammed inside rather than neatly folded earlier that morning. She hadn’t wanted to drag the packing out so she’d instead bundled her clothes into it and zipped it up hastily, preferring to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

The rattle of an oncoming tea trolley approached; wheels squeaking, teacups chinking against each other noisily. Jessica turned her face towards the window and hoped that whoever was behind it would walk straight past her, paying little attention to the lone traveller who was staring at the outside world.

‘Would you like a tea, dear?’ The trolley paused beside the outer seats, leaving Jessica with no option but to acknowledge its presence as well as the woman’s behind it. A wrinkled face appeared with rheumy eyes behind a large pair of spectacles.

She gulped down the sudden threat of tears. The tiniest thing was capable of setting her off just lately, more so the appearance of kind, old ladies. She nodded and accepted the cup of tea gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

Rather than continuing on her way like Jessica had hoped she would, the tea lady remained where she was and cocked her head to the side. She leant forward over the trolley to study Jessica with concern, her eyes wrinkling at the corners. ‘Are you quite all right, petal? You look a little pale, is all. Here.’

A couple of sugar sachets landed in Jessica’s lap making her flinch in surprise. She was as jumpy as a child on a bouncy-castle, her nerve-endings shot to pieces. She needed to get a grip and fast. ‘Oh! Thank you.’ She gathered the sachets and offered the woman a smile that was as friendly and genuine as she could muster.

‘No problem,’ the tea lady replied, pleased with her helpfulness. She placed her hands on her hips. ‘Sugar helps with all sorts of shock and by the looks of you, you could do with plenty.’ With a knowledgeable nod, she turned back to her trolley and rattled off down the aisle.

Alone once more, Jessica’s fingers trembled as she sprinkled each serving of sugar into her tea. Was she shocked? She supposed so. But then, she felt as if she’d always known that the day would come when she’d have to return. Despite living her wonderful London life—arranging and attending glamorous work events, heading off abroad with her best-friend—it was as if the harsh reality of who she was and where she’d come from had always been present, right at the back of her mind. Sure, it had been hidden away, but only until the day that something prompted it to resurface.

She was stirring the sugar into her tea when her ringtone sprung to life. She dug into her coat pocket and studied the screen of her phone. Her heart soared when she saw Sarah’s name flashing. The photo of them that had been taken whilst holidaying in Tenerife was the one that she’d chosen as Sarah’s contact picture. It was her favourite. Two young, carefree women, skin bronzed from two weeks beneath the burning sun, strutting about in bikinis and, quite simply, enjoying life. She remembered how happy she’d felt when the photo had been taken and she couldn’t help but wish that she was back there now with Sarah, rather than sat on the train alone.

She answered the call.

‘Is everything okay?’ Sarah asked as soon as Jessica picked up.

‘Sarah, we spoke about twenty minutes ago when we said goodbye at the station.’ She couldn’t help but to smile at her friend’s concern. ‘But in answer to your question, no, I’m not okay. I wish I’d never agreed to this. Is it too late to change my mind?’

‘Jess, you can’t change your mind now. You’re on the train and you’re on your way. And remember what I said to you in Maggie’s the other day?’

Ah, yes, their weekly catch-ups in Maggie’s were one of her favourite things, as were the cinnamon buns and the coffee. ‘Remind me?’

‘This needs to be done for your own peace of mind if nothing else. If you didn’t go back, you’d only spend the rest of your life regretting it. I know you would. You’re that sort of person. I know it’s scary, I know it’s a big deal, but if you were that scared, you wouldn’t have got on the train. I’m proud of you for taking that step.’

‘Thanks, Sar. That means a lot to me.’ She sipped her tea and winced as it scalded her mouth. ‘Are you going to miss me while I’m gone?’

‘Are you serious? Of course I’m going to miss you! Do you know how much willpower I had to use to not get on that train with you? I would have come with you, you know. I wouldn’t have minded at all.’

‘I know, but as clichéd as it sounds, I think this is something that I need to do on my own. Plus, you’d get bored. There really isn’t that much to see or do down there. You’re much better off staying where you are.’

‘I think you may have a point there.’ Sarah laughed lightly. ‘So, what’s going to happen once you’re there besides the funeral? Is there anything else that you’re going to need to sort out?’

Jessica swallowed at the mention of the ‘f’ word. It still felt surreal, like she’d stumbled into some other parallel universe where everything was disorderly and up in the air. Her life wasn’t like this. Her life was neat and tidy and organised. ‘I’m really not sure. I didn’t ask many questions on the phone. I’m sure Esme mentioned something about the house but I was so shocked when I realised that it was her on the phone, I couldn’t concentrate enough to take anything in. It’ll all become clear once I’m there, I’m sure.’

‘And is Esme meeting you at the station once you arrive?’ Sarah asked.

‘That’s what she said.’

It had been almost two weeks since she’d received the phone call.

She’d been standing in the queue in the canteen at work waiting for a plateful of lasagne, stomach rumbling as she watched the steam rising from the melted cheesy topping. With colleagues stood on both sides and chatter coming from all directions, she’d been surprised that she’d even heard her phone ringing from inside the confines of her bag. But miraculously, she had, and she’d been so surprised to hear Esme’s voice that when the lasagne had been handed back over to her, she’d lost grip of the plate and sent it crashing to the floor, splattering her white jeans and pastel pink heels with a steamy red mess. Colleagues had fussed around her legs and feet, cleaning and picking up pieces of the smashed plate, asking if she was okay. While all this had been going on, she’d stumbled backwards away from the chaos as her world had begun to swim in and out of focus. That phone call had been the one thing that she’d been dreading since she’d begun her life in London. That single phone call was capable of dragging her right the way back to a place that she thought she’d done an excellent job of forgetting existed. In this instance, the phone call had achieved exactly that and deserved a huge round of applause for smashing up her fantastically un-messy life in just a few seconds. But, even though the thought of returning was enough to make Jessica want to flee the country without a single backwards glance, she knew as soon as she’d heard what Esme had had to say that she’d had no choice in the matter. After all, what kind of daughter wouldn’t attend her own parents’ funeral?

‘Jessica?’ Sarah ventured quietly.

‘Yes?’

‘Are you strong enough to deal with this?’

She swallowed and clutched the phone a little tighter. ‘I hope so…’

‘When you’re back home, let’s get this year’s holiday booked. What do you think? It’ll give you something to look forward to. Cocktails, sun, sea and sand?’

‘That sounds perfect,’ Jessica replied, her voice a tiny bit brighter at the thought of being somewhere else, anywhere else. It really didn’t matter where, as long as it was far away from here. A holiday with Sarah would give her something to dream about whilst she crawled through the next couple of weeks. An imaginary place to escape to when reality became too much to handle. ‘While I’m away, you get planning. Find somewhere exotic and full of dark haired, muscly, rugged men who’ll feed us grapes and fan us with those huge palm leaves, and make sure you—’

She paused in her list of holiday requirements as a tall figure appeared in the corner of her eye. She glanced up at the new passenger with a backpack slung over one shoulder. While she’d been chatting away, the train had stopped at another station. She only meant to acknowledge him out of politeness but as their eyes caught, chocolate brown on olive green, she struggled to look away. He nodded towards the two empty seats opposite her. Dark haired, muscly, rugged… It was as if someone had been listening to her list of holiday requirements and magically conjured him up.

He remained standing as people pushed past him impatiently to get further down the carriage. Apparently, he was waiting for her approval before sitting down, which was rather gentlemanly of him, Jessica thought to herself.

‘Dark-haired, muscly, rugged men who will feed us grapes and fan us with huge palm leaves whilst stretched out on sunbeds beneath a tropical sun.’ Sarah’s voice had a dreamlike quality to it as she carried on. ‘Okay. Got it. Just don’t mention that part to Luke. We’ve only been going together for four months. I don’t think he’d appreciate being replaced just yet.’ She giggled girlishly. ‘Listen, Jess. I’m going to have to go. Lunch is almost up and if Pete finds me in here using the work phone again, heads will roll. We have a party of twelve in this afternoon so I need to start folding napkins. Oh, exciting life that I lead! Text me once you arrive and remember, I’m only a phone call away. Love you, Jess.’

‘Love you too, Sar.’ The call came to an end.

‘You can sit there,’ Jessica motioned to the handsome man still waiting for the go-ahead. ‘I mean, if you want to sit there, because no one else is sitting there.’ She waved towards the empty seats and immediately wanted to snatch her flailing, floppy hands back down to her sides. She shoved the phone into her pocket and turned her head sharply to stare back out of the window, feeling embarrassed.

‘Thanks. Everywhere else was taken.’ The deep, gravelly voice made her inch her eyes back towards him. Treacle-soft, sugar-sweet, dark-chocolate-divine.

He dropped into the seat opposite with obvious relief and ran his fingers over the smattering of dark stubble that swept across both sides of his very masculine, very appealing jaw. She’d never thought of a jaw as a physical attribute before. It took her a few trying moments to remove her eyes from his face. Thankfully, he was oblivious to her admiring glances as he fiddled with his phone. She probably looked like she’d never seen a man before. Well, she hadn’t, not one that looked like him, anyway.

‘All right?’ he asked casually once a few minutes of silence had passed. One corner of his delicious mouth lifted upwards. Shiny, conker-brown hair and twinkling, green eyes created the perfect package of man.

‘I’m fine, thanks. You?’ She righted her position, pulled herself up a little straighter. She imagined she looked like a child cowering in the corner of the compartment and something about this man made her want to appear more womanly than she’d ever been before. She discreetly smoothed down her raven black hair and swept her fringe from out of her eyes.

He pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie to reveal toned, tanned forearms and grinned. ‘Great, thanks.’

She was treated to another of his smiles and couldn’t help but return it. There was something about him that captivated her. His confidence perhaps? Whatever it was, she liked it. Rather a lot, actually. She wasn’t used to chatty strangers. Especially handsome chatty strangers, and rarely did they attempt to speak to her. There just weren’t that many around. Well, not that many besides this one who had just happened to cross her path. But anyway, this wasn’t the time for flirting. She had more important things to think about. She offered him another quick smile that she hoped didn’t appear rude and turned to face the window once again.

Not long now, she mused. She placed her forehead against the glass and watched the outside world as it passed by.

‘Off on your holidays?’ the handsome stranger asked.

He must have noticed her suitcase. ‘Something like that.’ She glanced at it, too. It sent her stomach violently lurching into what felt like a washing machine spin-cycle. She looked away, determined to ignore its existence. Stupid thing.

‘Anywhere nice?’ he continued, oblivious to her discomfort.

‘I’m off to Cornwall,’ she replied quickly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. ‘A few days by the sea. I can’t wait.’ An image popped into her mind of herself wearing a pretty sundress and taking a happy stroll through the seaside town. There were seagulls, ice-cream, sand castles and the scent of the sea-salt whistling through the air. It was a shame that her reality looked nothing like that but he didn’t need to know the not-so-pretty version. They were strangers. She could pretend to be anyone doing anything right now, so why bother with the nasty reality of where she was really going and what she was really doing there? Right now, she wanted to be that sundress-wearing, carefree young woman rather than the one carrying the world on her shoulders and struggling beneath the weight of it.

‘Oh, nice. I haven’t been to Cornwall in years,’ he said with a smile. ‘I love it down there, though. The sea, the sand, the little cafes and seaside shops. Excellent choice.’ Another smile crossed the space between them.

‘What about you?’ she asked, while trying to understand just how he could be so damn attractive. He really was out of this world. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m not off for a few days by the sea, sadly. Just off to visit the parents and then back home. I’ve been to see my brother out in the sticks. A nice way to spend my morning, with his kids clambering onto my back and telling me to pretend that I’m a horse. I must have done about fifty circuits of the lounge carpet.’

Jessica giggled at the image of such a hunk of a man allowing his nieces and nephews to ride around on his back. It was amusing to say the least, and quite adorable. ‘That sounds lovely.’

He rolled his eyes playfully, although it was obvious he’d enjoyed himself. You only had to look at the sparkle in his eyes to see that. ‘It would be lovely if my bro wasn’t such a show-off. He’s got a gorgeous home, beautiful wife, fantastic kids. He likes to remind me of what I’m missing out on. But you see, he doesn’t actually realise that while he was gifted with all of that, I was the one gifted with the good looks and the easy charm.’ He winked playfully. ‘So, who’s the real winner here, hey?’

As she laughed once more, she took note of how much she was enjoying his company. He was so open and friendly and she was glad that she hadn’t mentioned her real destination and the reasons behind it. If she’d attempted to chat to a stranger back in London, they no doubt would have walked off and thrown a worried look over their shoulder before hot-stepping it to the other side of the road with 999 on speed-dial. He was refreshing. And oh, what she wouldn’t give to be able to visit a brother or sister, or any family members for that matter. For just a second, her body flooded with envy. She didn’t have anyone to go and visit. Not really. ‘You’re lucky,’ she commented quietly, staring down into her lap and hoping that he hadn’t heard her.

The remainder of the journey slipped by. Jessica found herself dozing off, her forehead wobbling against the glass as she slipped in and out of sleep. She jolted upwards and glanced about herself more than once, panicking that she’d arrived, but each time she did so, she was relieved to find that the train was still juddering along through the small villages that lined the way. Every second that passed was a second closer to her life before London and it was terrifying to say the least.

***

It was late afternoon when the train began to slow down, preparing to stop at the next station. Jessica’s mouth went dry as she realised that this was her stop. A handful of passengers began to retrieve their bags from the overhead containers and prepared to depart, excitable chatter and farewells filling up the train. She was even more horrified when her handsome companion stood up. Apparently, this was his stop, too.

‘This is my stop,’ he announced cheerfully. A sliver of toned stomach was revealed to her as he stretched his arms above his head and emitted a yawn, his grey t-shirt riding up. She had to admit, it had been a long journey. ‘Still a while to go until Cornwall,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘I hope you have a nice time while you’re there. Say hello to the seagulls for me.’ His eyes lingered on hers for a second or two longer until he offered a devastating smile, showing off every single white, shiny tooth in his mouth, and held up a hand to say goodbye. Jessica watched him disappear. If she hadn’t been so panicked, she probably would have said goodbye too, but as it was, she watched him leave without another word.

This was it. She was here.

She stepped down onto the platform with a slow exhale. On the outside, she imagined she looked calm and collected but on the inside, a storm was raging.

She searched the sea of faces to ensure that her handsome companion had definitely left the vicinity, otherwise there’d be questions regarding a trip to Cornwall coming her way. Just her luck it had turned out that he’d been getting off at the same stop as her.

She lingered beside a vending machine and waited. The train left the station a few minutes later and it was then that she realised there was no going back. London was too far away for her turn back around and leave now, even though she had the overwhelming urge to do exactly that. She clutched the suitcase handle for support and allowed her eyes to rest on the hazy blue sky that stretched out in the distance. It didn’t take long for the busyness of the platform to settle down. It was eerily quiet once it did but that was nothing new for this place. It had always been the same. Peaceful, lazy, and a world away from the setting she’d left behind.

She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and told herself that she could do this.

Chapter Two

‘Jessica? Is that you?’

She spun round on the grey concrete. Her eyes fell upon Esme. It was amazing how just the mere sight of someone had the power to soothe and calm you.

All pretences fell as she walked towards the woman she hadn’t seen for almost ten years. She’d been building herself up for this moment. She’d wanted to appear strong and capable. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, after all. She was a grown woman and she could deal with things perfectly well on her own. Or so she’d thought.

Seeing Esme with the same old patchwork shawl draped elegantly across her narrow shoulders, her warm and welcoming face, her tiny hands clasped together just below her stomach. It was too much, too familiar. Jessica was desperate to feel the stability of her love, the only real, true love that she’d ever experienced. She bundled herself into Esme’s waiting arms and breathed her in.

‘It’s really me,’ Jessica laughed, inhaling the scent of lavender. ‘And is it really you?’ She stepped back to take a good look at her. She couldn’t believe that Esme was standing in front of her. ‘You haven’t changed at all, have you? You still look exactly the same as when I left.’ The same greying hair, although thinner now, was pulled back into a cosy bun. A few wispy pieces fell down around her apple-round cheeks, framing her face prettily.

Esme laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, dear. I’m almost a decade older than I was the last time you saw me.’ Her eyes travelled greedily around Jessica’s face. ‘But look at you! So beautiful, so grown-up.’

Jessica blushed at the words before turning her attention towards the red-brick entrance of the station. On the other side lay a world she hadn’t stepped foot in for a very long time. ‘Would you like to lead the way? It feels a bit strange… You know, being back.’

Esme nodded and linked their arms together. ‘My pleasure, dear.’

The station was positioned at the top of one of the many hills that surrounded the outer edges of the area. A solitary road led away from the station which eventually joined forces with a winding, twisty lane that would lead them into the heart of the village. The oaks that grew in the area were ancient and creaked like old wood with or without the wind’s help.

The two women left the station and were hit by a blast of late spring sunshine. Squinting, Jessica could see the viewing point up ahead.

‘I can’t believe that old bench is still there,’ she commented as they drew near to it.

Esme laughed. ‘Shall we take a look?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but instead hurried towards the viewing point that looked over the village, and allowed her wrinkled hands to rest on the splintered handrail which had, like the bench, lived way past its sell-by date. ‘Won’t you come and take a look?’ she asked over her shoulder.

‘I think I’m okay, actually, Esme. Why don’t we—’

‘One little look won’t hurt. Just come and see how beautiful it is.’

Jessica saw the pleading look in Esme’s eyes and gave in. ‘Fine, just one look. I’ve seen it plenty of times before, so I’m not sure what you think is going to—’ Her nonsensical rambling came to halt once her hands touched the wood and she looked down at the vision below them.

‘Welcome back to Bluebell Hill,’ Esme whispered.

Bluebell Hill, the place she’d lived since birth and then left as soon as she’d been able to, reminded her of something out of a storybook, a place where fairy-tales could originate from. She could see the buildings in the village square, the top of the church, the thick patches of woodland, the school and the vivid green fields that stretched out for miles. Scattered around the edges of the village, the more expensive homes sat proudly, impressive chunks of brick against the blue sky. Her eyes caught on Bluebell House and she stared at it, trying to decipher how seeing it made her feel. Scared? Vulnerable? Angry? Like a child again? She swallowed.

She leant forward and angled her head to look down at the hill they were situated on. The traditional bluebells of the village worked their magic and transformed the hill from a dusky green to an enchanting blue. They ran down the hill like a river and surrounded the bases of the oak trees. The ground was temporarily covered with a blanket of blue.

‘You’re right. It’s beautiful.’ Jessica turned to Esme and smiled. ‘It doesn’t change anything, though.’ And that saddened her greatly. If only it did. ‘It’s still Bluebell Hill. It’s still the place I escaped and for very good reasons.’

Esme’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Come on. I’ve got a beef stew slow-cooking back at the cottage. I know it’s one of your favourites.’

They set off down the dusty, sun-burnt lane.

***

‘Perhaps you should fill me in on what you’ve been up to since you’ve been away?’ Esme suggested as they strolled. ‘So much time has passed since you left. What happened once you arrived in London?’

‘Once I arrived, I found a cheap apartment,’ Jessica began. ‘The money you gave me really helped me. Did I ever say thank you for that?’ Esme smiled, nodding for her to continue. ‘It was only a small place, not exactly sparkling clean, but it was perfect for me. I met one of the girls who lived upstairs and she helped me out with finding a job. She put a good word in at the café she worked at and I got straight in. Sarah. She’s an angel. I really don’t know what I would have done without her.’ She smiled at the memory of working alongside Sarah for those first few months. They’d had such a great time together, their friendship blossoming into the incredibly strong bond that they shared now, all these years later.

‘How lovely of her to help you out. She sounds marvellous. Do you still see her now?’ Esme angled her head towards her.

‘She’s my closest friend.’ Jessica laughed lightly. ‘We do everything together. I went from the café to a bookshop around the corner which then led to my colleagues pushing me towards applying at Partridge & Co. which I thought was a ridiculous idea at the start but once I was sat back at home it became a bit of an obsession for me. In the end I took a chance and they invited me along for an interview. I was beside myself with excitement,’ she continued, unable to stop the grin from appearing on her face as she thought back to the day when she’d received the phone call. ‘Just a day after the interview I was called and offered the job.’

Esme stopped walking and turned to face Jessica. ‘I’m very proud of you, Jessica. You do know that, don’t you?’

Caught off guard by the unforeseen moment of tenderness, Jessica swallowed and tried to keep it all together. ‘Thank you, Esme. I’m proud of me, too. And of course I know that you’re proud of me. You’ve always been proud of me, haven’t you? Even the tiniest things, like getting myself dressed in the mornings or brushing my teeth.’ She smiled at Esme, basking in the glow of affection. ‘It took a while for me to work my way up through the company but now I’m a marketing manager. It’s so much fun and gives me such a buzz. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I must admit, I was a bit worried about being away from it whilst being here. I feel a bit lost.’

‘I’m sure they can manage without you, and just think how pleased they’ll be to see you once you’re back.’ Esme adjusted her shawl and allowed it to hang lower across her arms. The sun’s heat was surprisingly warm.

‘I miss Sarah already. But I can chat to her whenever I need to. She’s reminded me a million times that she’s only ever a text or a phone-call away which makes me feel so much better. I really don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s amazing.’

‘You should have invited her along. I would have loved to have met the woman who helped you out. She sounds fantastic. You can never have too many good friends.’

‘No, I don’t think she would have enjoyed it.’ Jessica shook her head and blinked up at the sun. ‘She’s got her own things going on at the moment. New relationship, work… Plus, I felt I needed to come here alone. It might have been awkward for her, with the funeral and everything.’

Silence descended as they both thought about what lay ahead during Jessica’s time in Bluebell Hill. It was going to be a difficult time for both of them, not just Jessica. Esme had worked for the McAdams family for a long time.

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. The funeral would have darkened the visit, so it’s probably best that she stayed at home.’ Esme nodded firmly.

When they’d been following the lane for what felt like forever, Jessica finally saw the first signs of civilisation in Bluebell Hill. She glanced behind herself at the way they’d come, the bluebells looking resplendent cascading down the hill.

‘Nearly there!’ Esme announced cheerfully. ‘I can’t wait for you to see the cottage. The flowers are almost in full bloom and the garden looks splendid. And having you here with me? It’s going to be just like the old days.’ Esme stopped abruptly when she saw the expression that flickered across Jessica’s face. ‘Well, not exactly like the old days of course… Things are different now…’ She trailed off awkwardly.

‘It’s okay,’ Jessica decided as they passed a few homes on either side of the lane. ‘We’re not going to be able to avoid it forever. Anyway, we’ve talked about me. What about you? What have you been doing since I’ve been gone?’

Esme waved to an elderly woman who was watering flowers in her front garden. ‘Well, I’ve just been pottering about, really. Nothing much has changed for me.’

‘And are you still enjoying living in Bluebell Hill?’

Esme stopped abruptly. ‘I am, more so now because you’re here. Do you know Jessica, not a single day went by where I didn’t think of you, or wonder how you were, or how life was treating you. I’d always hoped that you’d return to Bluebell Hill sooner, but I also knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t. I knew how desperate you were to get away, so why on earth would you come back?’

Jessica nodded slowly, unsure of how to reply. She knew that nothing would excuse the way she’d ran off and ignored Esme’s existence once she’d settled in London. The only answer she had was that she’d been so desperate to get away from it all and the strength of that desperation had led to forcing away the memory of Bluebell Hill, including the people who lived there. She felt guilty that Esme had held such hope that she’d return to visit, and that she’d never phoned or sent a letter, just to let her know that she’d been okay. She guessed she’d just got carried away with it all, and who could blame her for taking her new and exciting life with both hands and living it to the full?

***

Esme beamed with pride as she looked upon her home. She paused in front of it and beckoned Jessica forward to share in her delight. Although the exterior of Esme’s cottage was a bit crumbly, the celebration of colour surrounding it was enough to make any passer-by stop and stare and completely overlook the cottage itself.

Ruby reds, luscious pinks, dandelion yellows and sun-kissed oranges, it was layer upon layer of rainbow-like chaos and it took Jessica’s breath away as she stood still and admired it with an open mouth, seriously impressed.

‘It’s probably in need of a tidy-up,’ Esme commented as they drew near and Jessica was able to see the ivy crawling over the roof and the stone exterior of the cottage. It was a fairy-tale home through and through. Esme pushed open the wooden gate which emitted a small squeak and ducked beneath the wooden trellis, ivy twisting in and out of the framework prettily, tiny bursts of vivid colour poking through the greenery.

‘No, I think it looks lovely as it is. It’s so beautiful.’

Esme smiled. ‘I’m so glad you like it, dear. It’s my favourite thing to look at. No doubt it’ll grow even wilder once summer is here. I can’t wait to see it. Anyway, come inside and let’s have a cup of tea. I need to check on that stew, don’t want to overcook it, especially as it’s your “Welcome home!” meal.’

Esme breezed into the cottage, humming a merry tune as she disappeared. Left alone, Jessica felt the old familiar feeling of being at home coming over her. Esme and her cottage were capable of that. They always had been. She closed her eyes momentarily and allowed the moment to wash over her, revelling in the sense of calm. Before following Esme inside, she freed her phone from her pocket and tapped out a quick text to Sarah.

‘Here now. It feels okay, not as bad I thought, although still a bit scary. Hope you’re okay. Will keep you updated. J x’

Her phone beeped almost instantly and she smiled as she opened the message and read it, imagining the words being read aloud in Sarah’s voice.

‘Missing you already. You can do this, I promise. Just think of those rugged men fanning us with giant palm leaves on a tropical beach. If that doesn’t help, then I’m here whenever you need me. S x’

Phone back in pocket, she made her way up the cobble-stones and into the cottage.

***

Over a bowl of steaming beef stew later that evening, Jessica curled up in one of the two armchairs that sat beside the crackling fireplace in her pyjamas and listened to Esme as she talked about her friend Jane who had recently fallen ill. It was clear that Esme was very fond of Jane. She hadn’t stopped talking about her since they’d sat down. Jessica guessed that Esme was trying to fill the space between them with chatter, avoiding the tricky subjects.

‘I’ve been popping in and out, making Jane baskets full of food to eat while she recuperates,’ Esme continued. ‘She’s a very close friend of mine and such a lovely old dear, but she’s so lonely. Her husband, Rupert, passed away a couple of years ago, and since then, she’s been steadily going downhill.’ Esme frowned. ‘I think me visiting her is probably the only thing that she has to look forward to. Oh, but we do have a good old natter when we’re together and I enjoy the company myself. I’m just grateful to have a friend.’ Esme dipped a slice of bread into her stew and stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace as she ate, lost in her thoughts and memories.

‘She’s lucky to have you, and you her,’ Jessica commented as she finished off her own bowl of stew. It was one of the truest things she had ever said. Since she could remember, Esme had always been one of the kindest, most genuine women she’d ever met. She had a heart of a gold, arms that were made for carrying children to bed when they’d long since fallen asleep and a face that could make you spill all of your secrets. She was trustworthy and honest, too. Some of the best traits a person could have.

‘Did you still speak to my parents once I left?’ Jessica blurted out once the silence had stretched on for too long. She’d been dying to ask the question. She had to know, and they needed to address the subject.

‘I did.’ Esme nodded slowly. ‘Only very rarely, though. I popped up to Bluebell House every now and again but a lot of the time they were out at work. Sometimes I’d stroll up there and look at the house, remembering my days spent there. Thinking of you. Probably would have looked like a crazy woman if anyone had ever seen me standing there like that but I have an old, sentimental heart and it likes to return to the past sometimes.’

‘That night, once I’d left for London, what happened afterwards?’ Jessica sat up a little straighter and moved closer towards Esme. She was eager to hear the answer to her question. She’d always wondered about it, whenever she’d allowed herself to think about all that had happened back then. She placed her bowl onto the floor beside the armchair. ‘What did they say to you when they realised I wasn’t there? Did they want to know where I had gone? Did they seem bothered? I mean, I’d been expecting them to come and drag me right back but... I heard nothing, Esme. I gave up in the end. On hoping to hear from them, I mean. I felt stupid. I suppose I’d hoped for some attention from them for once in my life, but it was pointless for me to want that, wasn’t it? What did they say to you, Esme? Anything?’ She could hear the desperation in her voice. She didn’t like the sound of it but she couldn’t help it.

Esme clasped her hands together in her lap as if preparing herself for the conversation. ‘When I returned from the station on the night you left, Bluebell House was empty, as it so often was. They were both still working at the hospital so I waited until gone midnight for them to return. When they eventually did, I told them that I needed to have a word in the kitchen. I explained that you’d left, and then passed on the letter that you’d written. They read it together and afterwards, they asked if I had a number to reach you on. I told them that I did, but I’d been told by you that you didn’t want to hear from them. That you were starting fresh, somewhere new. They were beside themselves with worry but I managed to reassure them that you’d find your way and you’d be okay. You had a good head on your shoulders and you didn’t want to be cooped up in Bluebell Hill forever. You wanted to see the rest of the world and begin your own adventure. I told them how you felt, but left the letter to explain everything else. They did care, Jessica. I promise you, they did. They cried that night, kept saying that they’d done it all wrong, that they’d have done it all different if they’d have had the chance. But you’d already gone.’

Jessica nodded. ‘I forgot I’d said that, about not wanting them to contact me.’ She felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest as she wondered whether they would have got in touch if she’d allowed them to. But they’d listened to her and obeyed her orders to not contact her. Perhaps they’d seen that and taken it as their chance to finally do something right when it came to their daughter. ‘It was so messy wasn’t it?’ she murmured quietly, remembering the hurt and pain, the emotions that had turned her against her parents towards the end. ‘I was so angry, so frustrated with them.’ Her hands clenched at the memory of it. She was older now, and wiser, she hoped. Still, her childhood would never be looked upon with fond memories and that would always be a bitter pill to swallow. Most people remembered summer holidays and BBQs, but she remembered wishing it was her parents who had collected her when the school day had finished rather than Esme.

‘I tried to phone the number that you left a few days later, Jessica,’ Esme said quietly. ‘I was worrying about you but when I dialled the number it cut off and said that it was no longer in service.’ Esme’s eyes glittered with tears as she turned to her. ‘You changed your number, didn’t you?’

Jessica swallowed as it all began to come back to her. It was as if she’d unconsciously locked all of those memories away into a box and only now were they beginning to resurface. ‘I did,’ she whispered. How could she have forgotten that? She’d snapped her sim card into two and chucked it away. She’d seen it as the first step to cutting herself off completely from her previous life. ‘I’m sorry, Esme. I truly am.’ She lowered her eyes. How could she have done that to Esme? She’d treated the woman awfully. She knew that no matter how much she tried to dress the hurtful truth up with her explanations and excuses, she’d still hurt Esme more than she’d known. She realised that now.

Neither of them spoke or moved until Esme’s hand reached across the small gap between the two armchairs and clasped Jessica’s. She gave it a tight, comforting squeeze. She’d always looked upon her as a daughter rather than a child who she’d been hired to look after. ‘You’re here now, Jessica. Perhaps a few years late but you’re here, and that’s all that matters, my dear. That’s all that has ever mattered to me.’

Chapter Three

On the morning of her parents’ funeral, Jessica dressed slowly. She could hear Esme pottering about in the kitchen below but didn’t feel ready to go downstairs and face the day ahead. She wasn’t quite sure what was expected of her, of how to react or whether she was supposed to cry or remain passive-faced. It was such a weird situation and she felt so emotionally abnormal.

She tugged her hair up into a ponytail and stared at herself in the mirror above the chest of drawers.

The churning, twisting feeling that had appeared after the very first phone call with Esme returned to her as she studied her reflection warily. The strange thing was, her reflection looked calm and untroubled. Her lips didn’t quiver, her eyes weren’t wet with tears and she didn’t have shadows beneath them that would hint at the restless nights. Instead, she looked normal, and completely unaffected by the news of her parents’ death. For the millionth time, she questioned whether she was emotionless. She’d thought about it a lot lately, about how it didn’t seem normal for her to be reacting in this way. Most people would have been racked with guilt, sore-eyed from the crying and frail from grief taking over the need for food. There was definitely a thump of sadness when she thought clearly about them and that they were no longer present but then, she’d never felt like they’d been present when they’d been alive anyway, so what was the difference now? She was sure, too, that the sadness only made itself known because of the fact that now there really would be no second chances, no opportunities to make things right. It was the same sort of feeling a person would get when trying to fall asleep after having a bad argument with someone that they cared about, that niggling feeling that burrowed away because you knew that you wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until things were sorted out and back to normal. But things had never been normal, so really, this situation had no other state to return to.

Her childhood had been spent under the watchful, adoring eye of Esme who had been employed by her parents as Jessica’s nanny. Miriam and Arthur McAdams had worked non-stop, leaving Jessica in the care of Esme day in, day out. They had important, busy jobs, on-call 24/7, called upon to deal with emergencies. She’d rarely set eyes on them, even when, at the age of five, she’d sat at the top of the staircase and waited for them to walk through the door. She’d refused to go to bed when prompted by Esme. In the end, unable to keep her eyes open a second longer, she’d fallen asleep with her forehead against the wooden banister. Esme had had to scoop her up and tuck her into her bed.

‘Jessica? Are you awake, dear?’ A gentle knock sounded at the door. Jessica stepped rapidly away from the mirror as Esme’s voice filtered into her consciousness.

‘Yes, I’m just getting dressed,’ she called back, trying to keep her voice level, blinking around the room, trying to remember what exactly she’d been doing before becoming fixated by her reflection in the mirror. ‘I’ll be down in just a sec.’ She took one last look at herself and stared hard at the face that looked back at her. After her self-evaluation, she turned away sharply. Stuffing her things into her bag, she left the room and headed downstairs.

***

They left Esme’s cottage in silence and made tracks towards Bluebell Hill church. It was only a short walk to their destination but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. They passed the village square and the school which Jessica had attended when she’d been little. The sound of children laughing and squealing filtered through the green fence. They walked by the post-office and a handful of people who Esme acknowledged with a polite smile or a quick ‘Hello’ until eventually, they arrived at the wrought-iron gates of the church.

Headstones of the deceased were visible around the side of the building, and a cluster of suitably-attired people surrounded the open doors chatting quietly amongst themselves. It was enough to make Jessica’s legs wobble.

She paused before stepping onto the cream stone path which led up to the church doors. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to take that step over the threshold. She knew that once she did, the circumstances surrounding her parents would suddenly become real, harsh and unable to hide away from. She’d been ignoring the reality steadfastly since hearing of it but today, that would change. For good. And there wasn’t a single thing that she could do about it. She gulped as she blinked at the church, imagining the two coffins inside, the vicar, the people, the tears and the emotions. Was she strong enough to do this? She went to reach for her phone to call Sarah. She needed some of her best friend’s support now more than ever.

‘Jessica? Do you want to take a few minutes first?’ Esme’s small hand squeezed her arm gently.

She nodded, grateful for Esme’s never-ending support. ‘Yes. Yes, please. Can we? I just need a little extra time, that’s all. Just a few minutes.’ She was rambling as Esme led her away from the entrance, working herself up into even more of state. How was this real? Why was it happening? Was it to teach her a lesson for running away and not coming back to Bluebell Hill when they’d still been alive? But what would have become of her if she’d stayed? A million thoughts went around and around in her mind as she stared, unseeing, ahead of herself.

‘Jessica, listen to me.’ Esme turned Jessica to face her and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘You will get through this, okay? I’ll be right beside you every step of the way. I promise. We’ll do this together. If you want to cry, you cry. I know you’re confused about how to feel, but don’t be. Whatever emotion comes to you when we’re in there, just let it out. Don’t try to fight it, don’t question it. Just let it happen.’

Jessica took a few deep, calming breaths and nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She looked into Esme’s eyes and knew she’d make it through anything if she had Esme beside her. ‘What time do we need to be in there?’

‘Eleven.’ Esme checked the time on her watch. ‘We still have a few minutes so we’ll stay here until you feel calm enough, okay? No rushing into this. You take your time. That’s all you can do.’

‘Okay.’

They remained there for a couple of minutes until Esme’s head lifted. ‘Oh, Rueben’s here.’

‘Who’s here?’ Jessica glanced up from the ground and saw Esme moving off towards someone. She turned slightly to see who it was. Her mouth dropped open in surprise when she spotted the familiar face.

Their paths had crossed again, although not in the best circumstances, she had to admit. She watched him taking long strides up the path towards the church, dressed in a sharp black suit, bright white shirt and black tie beneath the tailored jacket. His hands were tucked neatly away in his trouser pockets. Jessica turned quickly, annoyed that this was the place where they were to meet again. She could hear chatter coming from behind her and realised that she probably looked ridiculous standing there with her back turned to them. She turned around and attempted a weak smile their way.

‘Rueben, come and meet Jessica,’ Esme said, dragging one of his suited arms in her direction. ‘This is Jessica, Mr and Mrs McAdams’ daughter.’ She pushed Rueben forward, a little forcefully, Jessica noticed. They came face to face.

It appeared that Rueben hadn’t yet realised who she was and was smiling easily at Esme’s insistence until he was directly in front of her and the easy smile slipped from his face, leaving in its place a confused frown. ‘Mr and Mrs McAdam’s daughter?’ he asked. His green eyes darted about her face quickly as if trying to make sense of it all. ‘Jessica McAdams?’ And then, just like that, Jessica saw the exact moment of realisation. His features all seemed to shift at the same time. He glanced towards the church, back at her, and then pulled an apologetic face. Anyone with half a brain would have been able to put two and two together.

Jessica shoved a hand towards him to give herself a reason to break eye contact. Perhaps she could pretend that the whole Cornwall thing hadn’t happened? ‘Yes, Jessica McAdams.’

He glanced at her waiting hand but returned his gaze to her face curiously. Finally, he took her hand with his own. It was huge compared to hers. Warm, too. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Jessica. I’m Rueben. Rueben Greer.’ They shook in a very business-like way before he turned his attention back to Esme. Jessica looked down at her hand, the warmth of his palm still present on her skin.

‘We’d better get inside. The service will be starting soon.’ He cast a wary glance at Jessica. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. It must be a really difficult time for you.’

She wasn’t sure if she deserved his sympathies but she smiled gratefully at him anyway. ‘Thank you.’

They continued to watch each other curiously until Esme linked her arm with Jessica’s. ‘Are you ready, dear?’

They crunched up the stony path towards the church. Jessica ignored her surroundings, the headstones, the sorrowful faces as they reached the church doors, people sniffing into handkerchiefs as they headed inside. She searched for Esme’s hand as they found a suitable place to be seated in the church. As the service began, she clutched tighter the small hand in hers and allowed herself to cry, just like Esme had said.

It was the strangest thing to feel like an imposter at her own parents’ funeral but tears still fell. They fell for the days she’d spent as a child wishing that her parents loved her. They were tears for the hopes of a sad little girl, who even the love and care of Esme couldn’t make better. They were tears for the loneliness, despite Esme being at her side almost every single day. Tears for dinners eaten with Esme rather than her parents, days in the garden with Esme, tears for the nights she’d spent forcing herself to stay awake to see her parents, tears for mornings when she had attempted to wake up earlier than usual to catch them on their way out, only to find that they’d already left for yet another day at the hospital. Tears for birthdays when it had been Esme telling her to make a wish as she blew out her birthday candles, instead of her mother and father. She wasn’t crying because of Esme’s constant presence in her childhood, but for the lack of her parents’. It was such a shame that you couldn’t turn back time.

The service seemed to slip by in just moments and before she was aware of it, people were filing out of the church, dabbing at their eyes with hankies and snivelling sadly for the loss of two such hard-working, respectable people.

***

The three of them left the church and blinked in the early afternoon sunshine as they walked. For the first time since she’d arrived in Bluebell Hill, Jessica noticed the pearly white clouds in the sky. They felt ridiculously appropriate for what the morning had held for her.

‘A beautiful service,’ Rueben commented politely as they walked down the path towards the village square. A group of people were following behind them, back to their daily lives after a bleak morning spent in the church.

Esme agreed. ‘It was, wasn’t it? A beautiful send-off. Don’t you agree, Jessica?’

Jessica glanced at both of them. She felt slightly dizzy and not at all with it. ‘Yes, it was beautiful.’ And it had been. She wondered now, as they walked back through the village square, who the people were who had brought those flowers? She could have stepped forward to have a read of the cards, say a few words herself, but hadn’t felt able to. She didn’t feel like she had a right to do that. They may have been her parents but their relationship had been non-existent. It couldn’t suddenly change because they had passed away.

‘Do you fancy joining us for lunch, Rueben?’ Esme asked once they were nearing the cottage. The air was warm and the birds were singing happily. Jessica wished she could join in with them. She wished she had something to sing about. Instead, she angled her face towards the sun and allowed the rays to dance across her skin, to somehow help her in her hour of need. The clouds had only been fleeting and now, as she looked up, the sky was once again cloud free. A smooth blue was spread out above her like an ocean.

Rueben agreed to lunch after much persuasion from Esme. The old woman hurried back to the cottage and left Jessica and Rueben trailing behind. ‘Don’t rush, Jessica,’ she called.

Rueben laughed lightly at Esme’s retreating figure before growing quiet. They walked in silence, both of them unsure of what to say to the other. Firstly, they’d just attended her parents’ funeral which of course made conversation awkward and secondly, in Rueben’s mind, she was not supposed to be in Bluebell Hill but in Cornwall. She wished she hadn’t lied to him on the train. It would have been so much easier for her now if she had just told him the truth from the beginning. There was always the chance that their paths wouldn’t have crossed but things hadn’t quite worked out that way. Things very rarely worked out the way you wanted them to, she grumbled to herself.

‘So, Cornwall, huh?’ Rueben asked eventually. ‘Did you change your mind? Decide to stop off in Bluebell Hill instead?’ His voice was playful and he was obviously attempting to lighten the tone. She was grateful but it didn’t make anything better or easier.

She stared straight ahead as she tried to think of an appropriate reply. How awkward was this? ‘It’s a messy situation,’ she said in the end, hoping he wouldn’t try to pry any further into it. ‘In this instance, a lie was prettier than the truth. I wished I’d been going to Cornwall.’ She couldn’t have just blurted out that she was going back for her parents’ funeral when they’d met on the train. It would have stilted their conversation and destroyed the tone that she’d enjoyed sharing with him as they’d chatted during the journey. She’d enjoyed talking to him without the mention of a funeral and she’d chosen to keep it that way. No one could blame her, could they? Who knew what to say when someone mentioned a funeral? She certainly didn’t so she couldn’t have expected Rueben to continue with conversation after such a dark confession.

Rueben nodded, as if he understood. ‘I see. I guess Cornwall did seem more attractive given the circumstances.’ He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but return it. He had such a nice smile. ‘I had no idea they had a daughter. Your parents, I mean.’ He raised a single eyebrow in her direction. ‘I hope that didn’t sound rude.’

‘Not rude at all and like I said, messy situation.’ She shrugged it off but the weight of the situation didn’t shift from off her shoulders. ‘How did you know them?’ She turned to him, interested to know more.

‘I worked for them, actually,’ Rueben replied. ‘I tended the gardens at Bluebell House. That’s my thing, you see. Gardening. I love it. Especially Bluebell House’s gardens.’ He nodded towards something, and Jessica turned, surprised to spy the roof of Bluebell House just visible in the distance behind the overgrown hedges. ‘I was sad to hear of their death.’ He cleared his throat as if turning away from that particular road of conversation. ‘My parents and I moved to Bluebell Hill years ago. I love it here, just as much as my folks, I think. Which is odd because most twenty-something men prefer the wild life. You know, clubbing and pubbing it. Don’t they?’ He grinned at her. ‘The woods, the peace and quiet. It’s much more appealing to me than getting drunk.’ He looked at her. ‘What about you?’

She was surprised. Most men adored that type of lifestyle. How refreshing to meet a man with a different mind-set. Glancing up, she saw that Esme’s cottage was coming into view and just in time. She could avoid answering his question. She picked up the pace as they continued towards it, acutely aware of Rueben waiting patiently for her reply. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to speak about herself. The only people who really knew about her past were Sarah and Esme. Esme had lived it right beside her. Two people was more than enough to share secrets with. Rueben had no need to know about her past in Bluebell Hill but she was thankful for his company.

‘There’s not much to say about me,’ she offered eventually. ‘I live in London, I work for a publishing company as a marketing manager. I’m just back in Bluebell Hill for a little while to sort a few things out following the death of my parents. I won’t be here long. A fleeting visit really.’

‘I’m presuming you lived with your parents before you went to London? When you were little? Or...’ He trailed off, obviously hoping she’d fill in the gaps.

‘Or,’ she replied quickly, preferring that option to the one where she’d have to explain herself. ‘It’s complicated and you’d probably get confused with all of the crazy details. Plus, after this morning, I don’t feel like talking about it. I’m sure you understand.’ She was beginning to grow hot and bothered as she felt the weight of his curious stare but she refused to make eye contact so instead, stared straight ahead.

‘Okay. That’s fine.’ He held his hands up in defence, smiling easily behind them. ‘It’s none of my business, I know. But hey, you’re lucky you have Esme. She’s great, isn’t she?’ Rueben looked towards the cottage fondly and Jessica studied the side of his face as he did so. It looked like he had a soft spot for Esme, too. It warmed her heart to know that she wasn’t the only one who was fond of the woman.

She smiled and nodded in agreement as she reached the cottage and hurried up the path, eager to get inside and away from any further questions that Rueben might have. She was constantly aware of his presence behind her though. She couldn’t quite decide whether she liked it or not. Only time would tell. She pushed open the cottage door and left it open for Rueben.

***

During a lunch of salad in the cottage garden, bowls scattered across the iron table providing a selection of tasty food from new potatoes to crunchy carrot sticks, Jessica learnt that Rueben was a handyman and helpful gardener in Bluebell Hill. Esme complimented his skills and told Jessica of how the women in the village called him round not only to trim their hedges but to admire him up a set of ladders, too. Rueben shrugged it all off modestly, throwing a couple of handsome, amused grins Jessica’s way, to which she couldn’t help but giggle in return. Whenever Rueben smiled his green eyes lit up, appearing more vibrant somehow. It was hard not to look at his strong neck muscles when he threw his head back to laugh. Everything about the man was pleasing to look at, Jessica realised. Absolutely everything.

She found out that Rueben’s father owned a farm shop a couple of miles away from the village, selling eggs, hefty sacks of potatoes, carrots and radishes that he’d grown himself at his allotments. Rueben’s mother was an avid cook and no longer worked but spent her days in the kitchen of their small home that sat prettily on the outskirts of Bluebell Hill. ‘She’s happiest at home in the kitchen,’ Rueben had explained, smiling fondly as he spoke about her. ‘And she cooks the best food in the world, take it from me. I sometimes miss living at home just because of that fact. Thankfully, I don’t live too far away, just the next town over, so I still stop off there sometimes if I’m feeling peckish.’ He grinned cheekily, completely at ease with himself and with the company that he was sharing.

As he told them childhood tales, Jessica became captivated by him, slowly forgetting about the emotional upheaval of the morning. His enthusiasm for gardening and Bluebell Hill itself, as well as going on morning runs and visiting his nieces and nephews, had Jessica sitting up a little straighter in her chair, laughing and smiling and willing him to carry on. His smile was infectious and she was eager to hear more about Rueben and his quiet life. Wanting to know more.

Eventually, once their plates were empty, conversation turned towards Bluebell House. When Rueben began to direct questions at Jessica in regards to it, she could feel herself retreating, not wanting to reveal too much, beginning to clam up like an oyster shell. She couldn’t help it. It was automatic. Any mention of her childhood home or her parents, and she felt her throat tightening, snatching away the ability to speak. She’d been having such a good time, too.

‘I guess Bluebell House has been left to you, Jessica?’ Rueben asked as the day began to wind down. The sky was softening as evening began to creep in. ‘It’s such a beautiful place. I’m still taking care of the gardens despite no one being there. I don’t like the thought of it all going to tatters. A garden like that deserves only the best love and care.’

‘You sound very fond it,’ Jessica commented as a look of pride passed over his handsome features.

‘Oh, I am,’ Rueben enthused. ‘Your parents were the first people to take me on when I decided to offer my gardening services in the village. They entrusted their gardens to my care and I couldn’t thank them enough. Thankfully, they were impressed with my work and told me I had a permanent place there if I wanted it. Once the village folk were aware that I was working there, they wanted my services too. Mind you, I didn’t see much of your parents after that first visit. I was only seventeen. I’d never known two people to be out of their home as much as they were. It was always empty inside, which I thought was a real shame. If it had been my home, I would have been there every day.’ He laughed. ‘I had a spare set of keys to let myself in case I ever needed anything but I rarely saw them besides the odd passing glimpse.’

Jessica knew that feeling only too well. Her parents had been the two most absent people she had ever known. ‘Yes, they were very busy, my parents,’ she said, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. She cleared her throat quickly. ‘Still, I’m glad you love it so much and that you’re still taking care of the gardens. It’s nice to know someone cares about the place despite the owners no longer being around.’ She studied the table.

‘Do you know what you’ll do with it? Bluebell House, I mean?’ Rueben couldn’t seem to meet her eyes as he asked the question and, for the first time, Jessica thought she saw sadness in his own. He really did love that house, she realised, watching his face carefully.

She chewed her lip and looked at Esme for some sort of support, but then finally, she shrugged. ‘I have no idea,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I mean, what am I supposed to do with it? It’s huge, way too big for me. And it’s never really felt like home.’ She allowed that confession to hang in the silent air for a few moments, wanting to take it back as soon as the words had left her mouth.

‘You don’t need to decide right now, dear,’ Esme said briskly, rising from her seat and gathering the empty glasses. ‘You have more than enough time to reach a sensible decision. Anyway, let’s get this lot inside.’

Rueben stood immediately and went to grab some of the empty bowls but Esme shooed him away. ‘And that would be my cue to leave.’ He planted a gentle kiss on Esme’s cheek as he thanked her for the lunch and then turned to Jessica. ‘It’s been lovely to meet you,’ he said, smiling warmly. ‘I hope we meet again soon. I’m sure we will.’ He held eye contact with her for a second longer before turning away and leaving through a gate at the side of the cottage.

‘Such a lovely boy, isn’t he?’ Esme cooed after his departure.

Jessica smiled as she followed Esme inside. She took the plates and cups from the woman’s arms and deposited them in the kitchen sink. He is rather lovely, she thought to herself as Esme closed the back door and joined her to get started on the washing up. Rather lovely indeed.

Chapter Four

The following morning, during breakfast in the cosy kitchen, Esme addressed the subject of Bluebell House.

‘You understand that Bluebell House is now your responsibility, Jessica? It’s entirely up to you what you do with it. You can either, keep it for yourself and move in. You could rent it out. Or, you can pack it up, empty the rooms, and sell it on. I’m not going to force you in any direction because whichever you eventually decide to do, it’ll be a big decision to make. We also need to organise an estate agent for if you do decide to sell. Everything else has already been dealt with. There are no outstanding debts, nothing that needs to be addressed. The future of Bluebell House is within your hands.’

Jessica swallowed down a mouthful of warm porridge and surveyed Esme across the chunky wooden table between them. That was quite a lot to take in. She’d acquired Bluebell House. She took a moment to process her thoughts. ‘At the moment I’m leaning more towards the idea of selling it. Bluebell House doesn’t really appeal to me at all, Esme. I know it sounds awful, seeing as it was my parents’ home, and mine years ago, but I just can’t see any reason at all to keep it. I much prefer the idea of passing it on to someone else, someone who would actually want to live there.’

Esme nodded. ‘Like I said, it’s entirely up to you. If selling Bluebell House is what you want to do then that’s what you have to do, dear. I completely understand why you’d want that. It’s your decision to make. No one else can make it for you and I wouldn’t want anyone else to make it for you, either.’

Jessica nodded as she spooned another mound of porridge into her mouth. She didn’t feel capable of making decisions anymore. It was like she’d lost all control of her ability to make up her mind when normally she was brilliant at it. It seemed that when it came to matters of the heart she was still just a little girl.

‘We could always take a walk up there today and see what’s what?’ Esme offered as she rose from the table. ‘If you choose to sell then it’s probably best that you start packing it up as soon as you can. I know you have your job waiting for you back in London, as well as your friends, and there’s an awful lot of stuff in Bluebell House. It may take a while to fully empty it and get everything packed up.’

The thought of going back to Bluebell House filled Jessica with an unpleasantness in her stomach that curled its way around her gut and squeezed tightly. She knew that it was something that she had to do and Esme was right. She did need to get back to London. She wanted to get back. The quicker things in Bluebell Hill were dealt with, the better. ‘Yes,’ she said eventually. She nodded her head as Esme’s words sank in. ‘I think we should go and take a look at it. It’s been a while since I last stepped foot in there and I’d like to make a decision sooner rather than later. There really isn’t any point in dragging it out.’

‘Excellent. Well, I’m ready whenever you are, dear.’

***

After a quick shower and with her damp hair twisted atop her head in a messy bun, Jessica was walking up the lane towards Bluebell House with good old Esme by her side.

She was greeted by the sight of the white tiled roof of her former home first, with its impressive double chimney. As she and Esme drew closer, the entirety of Bluebell House appeared in front of them. Jessica paused on the edges of the gravel driveway, feeling slightly awe-struck by the sight of it so close.

‘Okay?’ Esme asked as she peered at Jessica’s face. The worry was clear to see. ‘Don’t be scared. I’m here so you won’t be alone.’

Jessica took a deep breath and nodded at Esme as they walked towards the house. It looked resplendent, basking in the soft sunshine that Bluebell Hill seemed to be graced with every day. Summer was fast approaching and despite it still being early morning, the heat was already thickening the air around them.

The wraparound porch of Bluebell House conjured images of big American family homes, full of laughing, happy children and adoring parents. These images in Jessica’s imagination only emphasised how lacking her own childhood had been in both aspects. Stepping into Bluebell House again was going to be hard but it was something that she needed to do.

They took the steps that led up to the porch. Jessica looked up to the top of the house and blinked. It was huge. She felt miniscule standing directly in front of it. She eyed the stained-glass window that was set charmingly within the dark wood of the front door. It was an image of the hill full of bluebells. The greens and the blues vivid and striking. She continued to stare at it, becoming lost in the beautiful creation.

‘Jessica?’ Esme whispered, nudging her slightly. ‘Dear, is everything—’

‘I’m fine,’ she choked out quickly. She took the key from Esme’s outstretched fingers and winced as the cold brass of it touched her skin. She turned back towards the door, slipped the key into the lock and, with a click, the door unlocked and she was able to push it open and step inside Bluebell House.

‘Gosh, this takes me back a bit,’ Esme murmured as she followed Jessica into the pristine hall.

The polished, cherry hardwood flooring shone, with not a scuff or a single mark to be seen. The hall stretched right the way to the back of the house. It was all very grand and shiny, so much so that you’d think no one had ever lived there.

Esme lingered beside the staircase, allowing Jessica space and time to glance around herself and to take it all in. It felt so strange to be back there after so much time had passed. Even stranger to know that it was now in her care. This huge, ridiculously expensive house was her responsibility. She gulped. What on earth was she supposed to do with it?

‘Right. Shall we take a look around and get an idea of what we’re dealing with?’ Her voice was business-like, brisk and straight to the point. Although it sounded alien to her own ears and probably to Esme’s too, she preferred it that way, rather than drenched with the emotion that she was feeling inside. She wouldn’t be bowled over by the memories that Bluebell House was infused with. She wouldn’t let them take her down. She was bigger now, stronger, and she had a job to do.

‘Let’s go.’ Esme nodded her head towards the lounge and they disappeared beneath the wide wooden archway into the first room on their to-do list.

***

After walking the entirety of Bluebell House, scanning each of the rooms with intense scrutiny, the two women decided that it was time for a break. Jessica made them both a coffee and they carried the steaming cups out onto the back porch. They took a seat and sipped quietly. It was so peaceful. There was no noisy traffic, no throngs of people rushing down the pavements while on their lunch breaks or to get to work. Jessica breathed in the fresh air, the scent of a late spring day surrounding her.

‘It’s going to be a lot of work,’ she said eventually to Esme. She looked down into her coffee cup and felt her stomach roll at the sheer amount of effort that she now knew lay ahead.

‘It is,’ Esme agreed, ‘but you can’t let the idea of something being hard work put you off.’ Esme shrugged as if it were simple. ‘Besides, you have me to help you, and young Rueben over there.’ She nodded towards the far end of the garden.

Jessica followed the direction of Esme’s nod with surprise and, sure enough, there was Rueben, stepping out of a medium-sized, wooden shed, his conker-brown hair messy. He looked delicious, even more so when she realised he was topless, bare chest on show for all to see. It was obviously very physical work, whatever it was that he had been up to in the shed.

‘Afternoon, ladies!’ he called, using the t-shirt that was draped over his shoulder to swipe at the sweat glistening on his forehead. Rueben began to make his way towards them. Ripped jeans hung low on his hips. His torso looked slick and toned, the sun dappling his muscles magnificently.

Jessica couldn’t deny that the sight of him lifted her heart somewhat. She also couldn’t deny that seeing him topless had kicked her heart rate up a notch. As he continued to make progress across the grass towards them, she couldn’t stop herself from eyeing his body with keen interest. She noted the way his jeans clung to his thighs, the way his arms looked so capable and strong. Rueben’s eyes caught hers and he held eye contact until he flopped down into the only remaining garden chair opposite her.

‘Rueben,’ Esme sang cheerfully, ‘how lovely to see you. Have you been working on the garden today?’ She leant forward to receive a kiss on the cheek.

‘I have. I’ve been here since just gone seven this morning.’ He stretched his arms above his head and Jessica sneaked a peek at his chest, gloriously defined and damp. God, he looked divine. She felt her cheeks reddening slightly so hid her face behind the coffee cup, attempting to take a sip only to find that it was empty. She closed her eyes and forced herself to get a grip.

‘What about you two? What brings you up here?’ His dazzling green eyes turned to Jessica. He linked his hands and placed them behind his head, leaning back in the chair. His long body stretched out and he accidentally touched her shoe with his own. Jessica moved her foot away and cleared her throat.

‘We’ve been having a look around Bluebell House,’ Esme informed him as she took a sip of her drink, oblivious to the game of footsy beneath the table ‘Seeing what’s what. You know.’

He nodded, his eyes slipping back to Jessica. ‘And what do you think?’

She’d been in a strange trance ever since he’d sat down and was finding it hard to form a reply to his question. She watched him lick his lips as he stared at her. Those lips… ‘Jess?’ he prompted.

‘Oh. Oh right, sorry. I think this heat’s getting to me.’ She flapped at her face, like that would do any good. She’d bet that any woman would do the same with a man like him sat opposite, though. She couldn’t be the only one. ‘It’s like it hasn’t changed a bit since I’ve been gone,’ she said. ‘Everything still looks exactly the same. It’s actually quite scary when I think about it. It’s as if time stopped while I was away, as ridiculous as that sounds.’

Esme nodded. ‘Are you any closer to making a decision, Jessica? About what you want to do with the house? Now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?’

Rueben watched her closely. Esme cocked her head to the side as she waited, too. Jessica swallowed, feeling the pressure as she was watched by them both.

She couldn’t imagine herself living permanently in Bluebell House or in Bluebell Hill itself. She’d miss her job too much. She’d miss Sarah, too. She’d built up her life in London and was utterly in love with it, every single aspect of it. She couldn’t just drop all of that because of Bluebell House, no matter how pretty and charming it was. She’d been desperate to escape when she’d been eighteen and wasn’t ashamed to admit that she had loved every second of being away from Bluebell Hill and the house where she’d grown up. Why on earth would she give it all up just to return ten years down the line? It was peaceful and Bluebell Hill was a gorgeous place to live, she couldn’t deny that. It just wasn’t for her. Bluebell House held too many bad memories, memories of her former self; a desperate, angry, bitter person. The rooms held so much more for her than their furniture. There were feelings, emotions, things she couldn’t forget, that hung in the darkest corners of the house like ghosts. No. London was where she was supposed to be. London was where her life was now. London was her home. Not Bluebell House or Bluebell Hill. She hadn’t worked hard to build herself a new life for it only to come tumbling down. There was no way she would do that, not even if someone paid her. She’d only stepped back inside that very day, taken a look around the empty, joyless rooms, and that was all that she’d needed to make her decision. As soon as she’d opened the front door and stepped over the threshold, every memory, every feeling from her past had come flooding back. Her mind had been made up before she’d even realised it. Her decision was that she didn’t want Bluebell House, nor any of the shadows that lay within it. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted it to be somebody else’s responsibility. She wanted the sheer weight of it completely off her shoulders. Bluebell House had never been her home. She’d known it all along. Yes, she’d spent the formative years of her life there but even then, she’d felt detached, like a stranger in her own home, which was exactly how she felt now almost ten years down the line. Some things would never change.

‘I don’t believe Bluebell House was ever mine to keep, Esme,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘I think it’s best that I pass it onto a new family. That’s my decision. I’m going to sell Bluebell House.’

Esme placed her coffee cup down. She was smiling but Jessica could see that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘We’d better get in touch with an estate agent then, dear. Get Bluebell House put on the market as soon as possible, ready for potential viewers and buyers. The sooner we get the ball rolling, the better for everyone involved.’

And Jessica couldn’t have agreed more.

Chapter Five

The next morning, Jessica was once again back at Bluebell House, only this time with her suitcase trailing behind her. Esme had suggested spending the next couple of weeks at Bluebell House. ‘At least that way you won’t have to keep coming backwards and forwards between here and there.’

Although the idea of staying in Bluebell House unsettled her, Jessica couldn’t deny that Esme had a point. She yawned as she and Esme crunched across the gravel. ‘Thinking of all the work that lies ahead makes me want to crawl back to bed,’ she groaned as she looked up at it looming before them. ‘Can I do that?’

Esme chuckled but shook her head. ‘Sadly not, Jessica. The quicker we get started with the packing, the faster it will be finished. The early bird catches the worm, dear!’

She winced at Esme’s cheeriness. It was way too early in the morning for such a happy, loud voice, but she couldn’t deny that Esme’s presence helped her in more ways than one. Truth be told, Esme was exactly what she needed. Someone to motivate and push her. Especially as she’d contacted an estate agent the night before. She’d been put through to a chirpy woman called Deb who was excited to see the house ‘as soon as possible’.

‘Can we at least have a coffee before we begin?’ She tugged the suitcase up the porch steps, unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. Parking the suitcase beside the staircase, she headed straight for the kitchen and shrieked when she smacked into Rueben’s chest.

‘My GOD!’ she cried, slapping a hand to her mouth. Esme barrelled into the back of her and squeaked in surprise.

‘Rueben, what are you doing here?’ Jessica asked once she felt able to talk and had regained her breath. Once she had gotten over her initial shock and the zap of desire of being so close to him had diminished, she glanced behind Rueben. ‘What’s all this?’ She took a few steps further into the kitchen, eyeing the white plastic bags of food spread out across the countertops. ‘You went shopping?’

Rueben grinned as he shrugged in reply. ‘Well, you couldn’t stay here with no food, could you?’ He turned back to the open fridge door and placed a lettuce inside, followed by a pack of tomatoes and a stick of cucumber. ‘You would have starved to death. You have no transport either so it was the least I could do. And before you thank me, trust me, it was my pleasure.’

Jessica stared at his back then looked at Esme, who was also grinning at him.

‘Oh, Rueben. You are wonderful!’ Esme exclaimed, watching him with delight and performing a little dance on the spot. ‘Isn’t he wonderful, Jessica?’

He closed the fridge door and his eyes sought out Jessica. ‘I thought, too, that perhaps I could treat you to some of my cooking tonight? You know, once you’re finished with the house side of things. I know you’ll probably be exhausted seeing as there’s so much to do, but if you fancy it, then I don’t mind cooking for you at all. I’m actually not that bad, seeing as I learnt from the best.’ He winked playfully then rummaged around inside one of the bags.

‘That would be great,’ Jessica replied, feeling a tingle of pleasure oozing down her spine. ‘I’d love that, actually. Esme, what do you think? Are you up for a taste of Rueben’s home-cooking?’

‘Oh, no! Don’t worry about me dears, I’ll be seeing Jane tonight.’ Esme boiled the kettle and began gathering mugs for the coffee. ‘Besides, two young things like you don’t need me as a third wheel. I’ll only cramp your style.’ She let out a tinkle of a laugh as she grabbed the milk from the fridge.

Jessica frowned, not at all okay with Esme’s reply. She’d found the prospect of dinner with both of them pleasing but just herself and Rueben? She wasn’t so sure about that. She sneaked a glance at him, wondering what exactly his intentions were or if he had any at all. His eyes were on her as he leant up against the counters, arms folded across his broad chest, studying her intently. ‘But, Esme…’ She floundered, running a hand through her hair and trying to come up with some sort of excuse as to why she needed Esme there. There was definitely something between her and Rueben. She could feel it whenever they were around each other. A strange sort of chemistry that was completely new and exciting. She looked at him again only to find him watching her as he accepted the cup of coffee from Esme’s hand and blew on it, steam curling up from the rich brew.

‘There you go, Jessica dear. A nice, hot cup of coffee.’ Esme passed it over and sipped her own. ‘We’ll drink these and then get started, shall we?’ She smiled broadly, and glanced between the two of them, oblivious to the nerves that were racing around Jessica’s body, running through her veins like adrenaline. There it was again. The chemistry. Just looking at the man did funny things to her insides. His mouth was so appealing but it was ridiculous because never before had she found a mouth so distracting and pleasing to look at. She wondered what he was capable of with those lips, and those big, strong hands… Probably thoughts best kept for when she was alone, rather than in the kitchen with two people, one of those people being the man in question.

‘Oh, Rueben, I forgot to say, did you manage to bring those boxes over from your father’s farm shop?’ The sound of Esme’s voice broke the spell and, finally, Rueben’s eyes turned away from Jessica. She felt able to let out the breath she’d been holding now that his attention had shifted to Esme. Her shoulders dropped from being almost up near her ears as she’d returned his stare across the kitchen, intense and powerful. There was something about those eyes of his. Something that held her interest more than anything had before.

‘Yep, boxes are in the van. I’ll put the rest of this away and then start bringing them in. There’s loads. More than enough, hopefully.’

‘Excellent. We’re going to be needing plenty. And you, Rueben Greer, are a knight in shining armour.’

Esme’s off-hand comment fluttered around in Jessica’s mind like a trapped bird. Knight in shining armour? The thought definitely appealed but this wasn’t a fairy-tale. Although, she supposed she played the part of damsel in distress pretty well and the same could be said for Rueben playing the role of a hero. He’d definitely saved the day by getting the food in, and the rugged good looks didn’t go amiss.

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