The Little Guesthouse of New Beginnings: A gorgeously feel-good and heart-warming romance to escape with

by Donna Ashcroft

  ‘Miss you too,’ Connor ground out after a couple of seconds’ silence. He wasn’t used to Georgie’s easy affection. Even though she’d been in his life for eight years, he still found it difficult to be comfortable with her. Too many years of living with his father, he supposed, of being pushed aside and criticised. It wasn’t easy to change – his father certainly never had. Connor put down the mobile and pulled out one of the chairs around the kitchen table, finishing his beer and putting that down too. He had at least an hour of paperwork to do before he headed for bed. Maybe he’d finish the pizza?

  He wandered into the hallway and then down to the huge sitting room at the end of the house. The room had a long window across the back wall that looked out over the sea – the house was at the top of a steep cliff so you could see for miles. The fire had been lit but the embers had burned to a dark orange. On the sofa Jesse snored, and in front of the fire Jaws did the same – until his ears pricked and the dog hopped up to greet Connor briefly, before sloping off to the warmth again. Connor studied the row of empty beer bottles on his coffee table and shook his head. The boy would have a headache in the morning. No doubt a surly temper too. Still, as long as he turned up at work there wasn’t much Connor could do. He had enough of his own problems to worry about.

  Seven

  Madison sat on her bed and sipped some camomile tea to help wear off the effects of four Pink Flamingos and a conversation that had left her feeling both lonely and left out. Stanley hadn’t stayed long after their last drink, but for a few minutes he’d chatted with Amy about staffing and overheads, reminding Madison there was little to spare from the kitty for uninvited guests. Not that anyone would actually come out and say it.

  Madison stroked the white lace duvet cover that had been her favourite as a child. Her Aunt Sandy had redecorated the bedroom when she’d come to stay after her parents had died. It had taken Madison months to settle, and she’d never shaken the feeling that she’d been thrust upon her aunt and uncle – regardless of the fact that they’d always made her feel so welcome.

  Despite that, even now, Madison remembered seeing her bedroom for the first time, having her own space. A place she could come back to again and again. It had felt both overwhelming and strangely right – she’d never forgotten it. After all these years, when Madison visited The Hideaway, she’d lie on her bed for as long as possible with her eyes closed, smelling the familiar fabric conditioner, stretching out on the comfy mattress she knew so well.

  Madison eased open the top drawer of her bedside cabinet and pulled out an envelope before sliding out a wad of money. Insurance, she called it – enough for a flight anywhere in the world, so she always had the option of leaving. An escape if things got too much, or she’d outstayed her welcome. Madison’s phone pinged suddenly, making her jump.

  Had so much fun tonight. Fab to have you home. A xxx

  * * *

  Me too. M xxx

  Madison tapped the reply before opening up her wardrobe, where the few pieces of clothing she’d brought with her hung. She took a nightshirt off its hanger and a red cardigan tumbled onto the floor of the wardrobe, landing on a purple photo album decorated with hearts.

  Madison picked it up and sat on her bed. Her aunt had given her the album a few months after she’d first moved in. It was filled with pictures of her parents. Aunt Sandy had probably meant for it to comfort Madison as she grieved – instead it had made her realise how little she’d really known them. She opened the album to the first page: a black-and-white photograph of her as a baby. She lay in a cot, dressed in a spotty Babygro while her parents gazed down at her. Madison looked closer, as she had a million times, searching their faces for some clue of emotion – and as she had a million times before, found nothing.

  Madison flicked to another page, then another. The photographs were all formal, usually of her and her parents at embassy parties, unsmiling and smartly dressed. She turned the page over and let it rest as her heart thumped. In this photo, Madison wore a yellow and brown uniform. Her hair was brushed severely from her face and she was frowning. It had been taken when she was seven, on her first day at boarding school.

  Madison still remembered that day like it was yesterday. She’d been living in New York with her parents, looking forward to her best friend Katy Brown’s birthday party, which they’d been planning for months. Madison had chosen her outfit – a green sequinned dress and patent shoes. But a day before the party, she’d arrived home from school to find her bags packed. Five hours later, she’d been on a plane with her mother, heading to a boarding school she’d never heard of.

  At the time Madison had believed she was being punished for accidently breaking her mother’s favourite vase that morning. Until she learned her parents had known she was leaving for weeks – they just hadn’t told her. She could still remember crying at the airport. ‘Don’t be silly,’ her mother had snapped, without looking up from her magazine. ‘You should be grateful we’ve found somewhere so nice for you to live. It’s an excellent school.’

  ‘D-don’t make me go,’ Madison had begged. Tears had run down her cheeks onto her dress, but her mother hadn’t wiped them away.

  ‘You have to go to school, Madison,’ her mother had said patiently. ‘Embassy life is no place for a child. We really don’t have the time to deal with all the things you need. You’ll fit better into our world when you’re older.’

  Which, roughly translated, meant she was an inconvenience, in the way.

  Madison hadn’t asked if she could stay after that. Instead she’d lived at the school until she turned thirteen, when her parents had decided she was old enough to join them – and her life of travelling and parties had resumed.

  Madison stood and put down the album, shaking away her feelings, before heading quietly down the stairs remembering how it had felt when her aunt and uncle were home. She wished they were now. Wished she could speak to them – but according to Dee they hadn’t taken their phones on holiday because they wanted a complete break. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair. Not now she was leaving.

  The Hideaway was so still tonight. She tiptoed through the dining room and into the kitchen, pausing at the doorway to take in the shiny surfaces and smell of chocolate permeating the air. It all felt so familiar, and yet so out of her reach. If The Hideaway had been heaving with guests, she knew she would have tried to stay, carved out a place for herself within the guesthouse and finally put down roots. But things were quiet and there was no Madison-shaped hole waiting to be filled. Her aunt and uncle were good people, and nothing like Madison’s parents: they were far too kind to tell her she needed to move on. Which meant she’d have to do it herself.

  Madison’s mobile pinged again with an emoji heart from Amy, and she smiled sadly before scrolling through her emails. There was one from a travel company telling her about cheap flights to Mozambique. Another from Seth asking if she had time to visit him in Amsterdam when the Greenpeace boat docked.

  There were a thousand places she could go if she wanted. Madison looked around the kitchen sadly. And a thousand more even if she didn’t. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to stay and become a burden. Tomorrow she’d head into town to take one last look around before researching times for the ferry.

  Eight

  Connor’s head hurt. God knows why – he’d only had one beer but he hadn’t made it to bed until after one, because the paperwork had got the better of him. Then he’d been up at five thirty for his daily run with Jaws: a habit so ingrained into him by his father that he simply couldn’t shake it.

  Connor pulled his truck into a large parking space on the High Street, a few shops along from The Red Velvet Bakery, which opened early and did the best meat pies in the world. One of those with a strong cup of tea, and another for lunch later, would soon put the world to rights. Then he could head for the builder’s yard to pick up the supplies before joining Jesse at The Hideaway – hopefully the boy had made it off the sofa by now and into work with Jaws.
He already knew it was going to be a very long day if they meant to get back on schedule.

  Connor had barely made it out of his truck and onto the pavement before he spotted Madison staring into the colourful window of Merlin’s Travel Agents. The High Street looked empty and Connor took a second to check her out. She was dressed in jeans and a light green coat he didn’t recognise. Her long brown hair was piled up on the top of her head and she looked an endearing combination of unsure and unhappy, which made his heart hammer unhelpfully.

  ‘Planning your escape already?’ Connor grumbled, coming up behind her and catching a whiff of lemongrass from her hair. He was probably being unfair but the conversation with Georgie last night had put him in a bad mood. ‘I thought you’d stay at least a week this time.’

  ‘Oh, it’s you.’ Madison stumbled backwards as she turned, her face going crimson. ‘I… I was just thinking…’ She waved a piece of paper in front of her face and Connor’s heart sank as he recognised it.

  ‘Ferry times? I thought you’d have them memorised by now.’ He felt angry. Stupid really. He’d known she was bound to leave eventually – he just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. And it rankled. The Hideaway was in trouble, Madison seemed keen to help out, but the next day she was looking for routes off the island. In some ways she reminded him of Georgie, which after their recent chat really didn’t help.

  ‘I… I don’t know, this one’s out of date and I checked online, but the information’s unclear. I wanted to talk to someone.’ She looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting up the High Street, across the rows of shops spanning each side.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with me.’ Connor held up his hands. Maybe he’d have two pies for breakfast to make up for his crappy mood. ‘But what happened to new beginnings, making a fresh start? Or have you decided to just skip this one and head for the next?’

  ‘I’m just in the way.’ Madison shook her head. ‘You don’t know how that feels.’

  Didn’t he? ‘I’ve a fair idea,’ Connor muttered, thinking about how it had been living with his father. ‘And how are you in the way? Dee was delighted to see you, so was Amy – and your aunt and uncle feel the same way. Everyone’s busy – it’s not like they’ve had time to throw you a party, but that doesn’t mean they don’t care.’ His voice was probably sharper than he’d intended, but what did she expect?

  ‘I don’t need a party, Connor,’ Madison snapped before blushing. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep very well and you’ve caught me in a bad mood. The four Pink Flamingos I drank last night were probably a bad idea. But before you judge me you need to understand I want to stay. I just… can’t.’

  ‘Why not? You’ve a roof over your head, and people who want you around, which is a lot more than most. What’s complicated about that?’

  ‘You make it sound so easy.’ Madison sighed, running a tanned hand across her forehead.

  ‘Probably because it is. Look.’ Connor closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. ‘It’s none of my business. I need breakfast, and some of us have work to do.’ He waved a finger at the timetable in her hand. ‘Good luck with the trip to wherever you’re going and have a nice life.’ With that he turned and marched down the High Street, passing the post office, Happy Paws Pet Shop, Sunflower Supermarket and the Little Card Shop before he heard Madison shout.

  ‘Wait!’

  Connor heard Madison behind him and stopped when he reached the glass entrance of The Red Velvet Bakery, turning just as she reached him.

  ‘You’re being unfair,’ she said, frowning at him. ‘Jumping to conclusions. You’ve made a decision about me – the wrong one. You’ve no idea what I’m like.’

  Connor just stopped himself from snapping back at her. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right,’ he admitted instead, running a hand through his hair, watching Madison’s eyes flicker as they followed his reflex reaction. ‘I didn’t sleep well either and I haven’t eaten. I apologise.’ The words came out hollow, but in truth he was disappointed. In himself, in Madison. God knows why: she wasn’t his business. But somehow, between yesterday and today he’d realised he liked her being around. She brought light and laughter, not to mention a large dollop of irritation, into what had begun to feel like a very boring life. Maybe he understood Dee’s words more than he thought?

  ‘And I accept. In truth, I’m hungry too. So maybe we should both eat before talking again?’ Madison suggested, still looking unhappy.

  Connor nodded and opened the door to the bakery, inhaling the mouth-watering fragrances of sugary treats and savoury pies. Madison walked in, bumping straight into a young woman with short brown hair that Connor recognised as the owner of Magic Charm Jewellers. ‘Claire Spring, how’s the shop?’ Madison asked, hugging her while somehow avoiding the cup of coffee Claire had in her hand.

  ‘Great thanks, Madison. I didn’t know you were home?’ Claire said warmly. ‘We must get together, I’ve barely seen you since school.’

  ‘You remember Connor?’ Madison stepped back to draw him into the conversation.

  ‘Of course.’ Claire nodded. ‘How serendipitous. I need some painting done in the shop and I’ve been looking for someone. I have to admit, I hadn’t thought of you. Do you have a card?’

  ‘Sure.’ Surprised, Connor pulled one from his pocket.

  ‘I’ll give you a call about the work – and let’s get a date in, Madison,’ Claire said before heading out of the door.

  ‘If you frowned less, you’d probably find that happened more,’ Madison said to Connor, walking across the shiny tiled floor towards the glass counter where all kinds of pastries were displayed. The smells were incredible and Connor’s stomach grumbled as he scanned the meat pies and sausage rolls, huge slices of pizza as well as doughnuts, croissants and large cream cakes.

  ‘Do you have any salads, please?’ Madison asked the woman in the white hat and apron with a pair of silver tongs ready to serve. Connor recognised the woman – he came here most days – but despite that he couldn’t remember her name. She’d told him once in a flirtatious tone, but he’d been in a hurry and hadn’t wanted to prolong the conversation.

  ‘We have carrot cake.’ The woman flashed a slight smile.

  ‘It looks lovely too.’ Madison grinned back, her face transforming. ‘I’m Madison Skylar, I don’t think we’ve met. Do you make all this food yourself? It looks fantastic.’ Madison offered a hand over the counter and to Connor’s surprise the woman took it.

  ‘I’m Gillian Rogers, I moved to the island a year ago. Not all of the food, but a fair amount. We do sandwiches at lunchtimes, but we’ve never had salad on the menu. There’s just not much call for it here.’

  ‘Fair enough. Salad’s probably not the best thing to have for breakfast anyway.’ Madison chuckled to herself and Gillian grinned. Madison was doing it again, Connor thought, working her magic like she always did. Getting people to like her with just a few words. How did she do it? It was a gift he honestly hadn’t managed to understand, let alone cultivate. Not that he’d spent much time trying. ‘Have you got anything vegetarian?’ Madison asked, biting her top lip as she looked at the display. Connor’s stomach grumbled again and he hoped she’d get on with it, but in the interests of a peaceful relationship decided not to complain.

  ‘A cheese pasty, unless you fancy something sweet?’ Gillian replied. ‘My sister’s a veggie and I promise those pasties are completely meat-free.’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ Madison said. ‘Do you happen to have any bananas or camomile tea?’

  Gillian smiled again. She had piercing blue eyes and was quite pretty when you looked closely. Connor just hadn’t noticed before. ‘I’ve some fruit out back and camomile teabags. We don’t sell them, but I drink it in the afternoons. I’ll get you a cup and sort out that pasty and banana.’ Gillian’s eyes darted to Connor. ‘Do you want your usual nuked heart attack complete with builder’s tea?’

  ‘Um… yes,’ Connor replied, taken aback by her teasing tone.

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nbsp; ‘He means please,’ Madison added with a swift smile. ‘He always does, it’s just with Connor the manners are silent.’

  ‘I’ll find us a seat.’ Connor shook his head and went to sit at one of the white wooden tables at the window. He looked out onto the High Street. It was still early but a few people had begun to mill about. On the other side of the road, the postman collected mail from a gleaming red postbox and a woman he vaguely recognised cleaned the windows outside the laundrette. Connor massaged his fingers over his temples as Madison took the seat opposite.

  ‘Headache?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll be fine after eating.’

  ‘If we get a quiet moment sometime we could do some yoga. There’s nothing like a bit of stretching to take the tension out of your body. The dragon pose would suit you.’ Gillian brought their food and drinks and placed them on the table before disappearing to serve another customer. Connor sipped his tea, wondering if Madison was joking.

  ‘I thought you were leaving?’

  ‘Oh.’ Madison looked surprised and then unhappy. ‘I’d forgotten.’ She put the timetable underneath her plate. ‘So, no dragon pose for you – you should be grateful.’ She picked up the knife and fork Gillian had brought and cut a slice of the pasty before taking a bite. ‘That’s amazing.’ Madison closed her eyes as she chewed. She seemed so entranced by the flavours Connor couldn’t help but watch before looking down at his meat pie – he’d already eaten half of it and had barely noticed.

  ‘So tell me again why you’re leaving?’ Connor took another bite of his pasty and this time he took a moment to savour it. It tasted salty, beefy and very, very good.

  Madison’s forehead creased. ‘I went out with Amy last night and she was talking about The Hideaway. It’s not doing so well. You must know that?’