The Summer of Secrets

by Tilly Tennant

  The Summer of Secrets

  A feel-good romance novel perfect for holiday reading

  Tilly Tennant

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  The Little Village Bakery

  Tilly’s Email Sign-Up

  Also By Tilly Tennant

  A Letter from Tilly

  A Very Vintage Christmas

  A Cosy Candlelit Christmas

  Rome is Where the Heart is

  A Wedding in Italy

  Christmas at the Little Village Bakery

  Acknowledgements

  To my stepdad, David. Some people are family, and others are just like family.

  Chapter 1

  The usual morning calm of Silver Hill Farm was shattered by the sound of a digger engine roaring across the valley. Harper stopped and leaned on her mop, a frown creasing her forehead.

  ‘He’s keen.’ Harper’s best friend, Pip, shot her a grin. ‘He must be in love.’

  ‘More likely he has another job to get to later,’ Harper replied, slopping the mop in the bucket and wringing it out before sweeping it across the tearoom floor.

  ‘Hey, don’t knock it! You’re lucky to have a builder as a fiancé. Just imagine how much this job would have cost if you’d had to pay someone proper rates. And he’ll have to do a good job or he’ll have the missus to answer to.’

  ‘Hmm…’ Harper propped her mop against the wall and moved over to the window. The rolling hills beyond their hollow glistened with dew, the angle of the morning sun catching each blade of grass and turning the vista into a shimmering swell that made the hills look silver, a phenomenon that had given the farm its name. These were the best and most beautiful mornings. Mornings when Harper couldn’t believe her luck that she had ended up here, in this pocket of heaven, after all she’d been through. Sometimes she had to wonder when she was going to wake up from the dream and find the world grey and hopeless again.

  And then there was Shay. She could see him now through the window, perched on his rented digger, churning up the land adjacent to the cottage where she lived, just beyond the orangery that had now become a tiny but thriving, tearoom. She’d never seen a man look so happy, like a child with a toy, his lips pursed in what Harper knew would be an endearingly tuneless whistle. He glanced her way and she gave him a little wave.

  She couldn’t help but smile. She’d never been the sort of woman who was attracted to macho men, but she couldn’t deny that Shay looked hot as hell wrangling with the digger as he gouged out the foundations for what would be an annexe of holiday lets. All she wanted to do was pull him off that digger then and there and ravish him. He had the sexy brawn, but he had brains too; he was funny, kind and extremely handsome. And they were about to get married. Not only that, but she had the excitement of an expanding business, something that she got to share with her best friend who worked alongside her every day. She had once thought her life was cursed, but now she was certain she was the luckiest woman alive.

  Shay stopped the digger and wiped his brow, surveying what he’d done so far as the engine idled. His gaze travelled to the window again, and Harper’s smile broadened as he gave her a quick grin and mimed drinking a cup of tea.

  ‘He’s finished already?’ Pip raised her eyebrows as Harper made her way to the counter and filled the kettle.

  ‘No.’ Harper laughed. ‘I think he wants his breakfast.’

  ‘I don’t know why he didn’t get his breakfast first and then start to work instead of doing ten minutes and then stopping… I’ll never understand the logic of men.’

  ‘Then it’s a good thing you only date women,’ Harper replied cheerfully.

  ‘They make a lot more sense. There’s no secret code, no man caves. You know where you are with a girl. It’s just a shame there are very few around here who feel the same way.’ She let out a melodramatic sigh. Harper smiled.

  ‘She’s out there somewhere – you just need to be patient.’

  ‘I know, I know… I suppose I feel impatient because you’ve got Shay and you’re all loved up. It makes me envious, you know? And very aware of how long it’s been since I was with anyone.’

  ‘How long since Esther?’ Harper licked a blob of raspberry jam from her finger as she smothered a slice of toast.

  ‘Two years and one month.’

  ‘And how many days?’

  ‘Six. Not that I’m counting or anything.’

  ‘Have you heard from her?’

  ‘Not since I told her to stop phoning.’

  ‘She was offended, I expect.’

  ‘Well, when she decided to take the job in New Zealand we both knew it would be the death sentence for us, and no amount of calling me was going to change that. In the end, cutting all ties is less painful than hearing her voice and knowing how far away she is from me.’

  ‘I keep saying you could have made it work.’

  ‘And I keep saying we couldn’t. The distance is too big and the air fares are too ginormous.’

  ‘So you’re setting your sights firmly on a Dorset girl?’

  ‘No further than Lyme Regis – that’s my limit.’

  Harper gave her friend a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I know you are – you tell me often enough. But it was never your fault and it’s not up to you to make things better – you have your own worries.’

  ‘Not right now I don’t…’ Harper loaded a mound of jammy toast and a cup of tea onto a tray and hauled it from the counter. ‘I can’t believe how well everything is going now after all the shit I’ve put up with in the past. I keep thinking, any minute now, some disaster is going to crash in around me and ruin everything, because that’s how my life usually goes, and this good run is bound to end.’

  ‘I thought I was the pessimist.’

  ‘It’s not pessimism; it’s realism. I haven’t spent thirty-three years on this planet without realising that when life looks like a bed of roses, there’s always a bastard thorn or two waiting in amongst them.’

  ‘Or the risk of someone dumping a load of shit on you.’ Pip gestured to the mop bucket. ‘Want me to get rid of that water?’

  ‘If you don’t mind. I’ll take this out to Shay and then we can crack on with opening up. I still don’t think we’ll get much in the way of custom today with a huge great digger rumbling about the place, but we should make the effort.’

  ‘You’ve got to break some eggs to make an omelette,’ Pip said as she picked up the bucket.

  ‘Yes, but if the eggs could be broken a bit more quietly, that would be very helpful.’

  Pip grinned as Harper left the tearoom with her tray.

  * * *

  When she got outside with his breakfast, Shay was striding round to the entrance to meet her.

  ‘Have I ever told you how much I love you?’ he said, reaching for a slice of toast and stu
ffing it into his mouth.

  ‘Yes, but strangely it’s only when I have food for you.’

  ‘No, no, you’ve got that all wrong. Obviously, the food is a bonus…’ He leaned in to kiss her, his lips smudged with jam. Harper pulled back and wrinkled her nose.

  ‘That’s disgusting!’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, grinning, ‘but you love that film where that couple squirt cream and chocolate all over each other and eat it off. What’s the difference?’

  ‘You made us watch that film and there’s a huge difference!’

  ‘Go on,’ he said, swallowing and reaching for another slice of toast from the pile, ‘secretly you’re finding it sexy.’

  Harper gave a long sigh, but a grin twitched at the corners of her mouth. ‘At least if you stuff your face from a tray I don’t have another table to clean.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, cramming the last piece in and removing the mug of tea. ‘See, I’m an absolute pleasure to look after!’

  ‘Look after? You’re not six!’ Harper called after him as he turned with a broad grin and headed back to his digger. There was no reply, apart from a lazy chuckle that echoed across the gardens in the frosted dawn air. She watched him climb back into the machine and start it up with a smile. He could be so infuriating and yet his supremely self-assured charm always got her smiling in the end. And there was no doubting he’d been good for her after her last, devastating relationship.

  She shook herself. She didn’t want to think about that man ever again, though sometimes he crept into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried. He’d been controlling and cruel and had almost sent her into a spiral of self-doubt that she would never escape. Life was good here in Silver Hill and thoughts of him would only ruin her new found contentment.

  As she strolled back to the tearoom with her empty tray, she looked up to see a minibus pulling up outside. With a vague frown she looked at her watch. Opening time wasn’t for another hour and they were nowhere near ready. On the other hand, business was business – especially a whole minibus full of business.

  The driver door opened and Mrs Seacock, the octogenarian church warden from the village, wobbled out. Harper smiled. She should have recognised the van because Mrs Seacock often raced about in it, despite almost needing a stepladder to get into the driving seat. Harper was just about to greet her when the old lady went around to the side of the van and slid the door open to reveal about twenty passengers who began to tumble out. Harper clamped her mouth shut again and quickened her stride.

  ‘Oh, Harper…’ Mrs Seacock called, tottering towards her. ‘Could we possibly borrow your tearoom for our monthly meeting?’

  ‘You’re meeting this early?’

  ‘We always meet this early,’ Mrs Seacock said, looking as confused by the idea of a meeting at a normal time of day as Harper did about one at the crack of dawn. ‘Most of our board members have a job to get to afterwards.’

  ‘Oh. But we’re not quite ready to open yet.’

  ‘We’d be no bother. Perhaps just a pot of tea?’

  ‘Well…’ Harper began. ‘I mean yes, but what about the church offices?’

  ‘Electricity’s out so we can’t put the kettle on. I could do with your Shay having a look at it. There’s that ghastly coffee shop in the village but I won’t give my money to an out-of-town chain when I can give it to someone local.’

  ‘Oh. Then I suppose we can at least get the tea and coffee running for you. Come on in…’

  Mrs Seacock beckoned towards her party, many of whom looked as old – if not older – than her. The noise of their chatter and laughter filled the gardens as Harper saw them through into the tearoom, but she suddenly became aware that she couldn’t hear Shay’s digger any more. She looked round to see him jogging over.

  ‘What’s all that lot?’ he asked in a low voice.

  ‘Mrs Seacock and the church board. They want to have their meeting here.’

  ‘Now?’ he asked, looking at his watch.

  ‘Yes, apparently they have jobs to get to afterwards.’

  ‘Jobs.’ Shay snorted. ‘Most of them have one foot in a coffin!’

  ‘Shay!’ Harper squeaked. ‘You can’t say that! Some of them could be working. I saw Desmond from the supermarket, so I know he does.’

  ‘When it suits him, yeah.’

  ‘Well I couldn’t very well say no anyway. And she wants you to take a look at the electrics at the church hall.’

  He rubbed a hand over the fine stubble of his chin. ‘I’m not a qualified sparky.’

  ‘No but you could look, couldn’t you?’

  They both looked round as Mrs Seacock came out from the tearoom and broke into a broad smile at the sight of Shay.

  ‘Just the man I need,’ she said. ‘We’re having the most awful problems at the church hall…’

  Shay glanced briefly at Harper before nodding. ‘I’ll come over and price a job up for you tomorrow if you like.’

  Mrs Seacock’s face fell. ‘There isn’t much money to spare, you know… not with the roof fund almost empty.’

  ‘An electrician from out of town would charge you more than I will so don’t worry about that,’ he said in his silkiest voice. Mrs Seacock’s frown transformed into a smile again.

  ‘Marvellous,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much.’

  With that she turned to go back inside and Harper frowned at Shay. ‘You’re actually going to charge her? I bet you’ll only have to change a fuse or something.’

  ‘I’ve got to earn a living.’

  ‘But it’s the church! You know how they struggle for funds.’

  ‘They say they do. If they sold a bit of that lead from their roof they’d be rolling in it.’

  Harper’s frown deepened.

  ‘OK,’ he said with a grin. ‘I won’t rip the old girl off, but I am charging. And…’ he continued as he walked into the tearoom, ‘I suggest you charge for all this tea you’re about to serve up too.’

  ‘They said they might only want a pot or two,’ Harper called after him. But then she heard that chuckle again, ringing through the morning air as she followed him into the tearoom.

  * * *

  Inside, Pip scowled as she dragged Harper over to a quiet corner.

  ‘What’s all this?’ she hissed.

  ‘They wanted to have their meeting here. I know it’s a pain but I couldn’t very well say no, could I?’

  ‘Did you tell them they could have breakfast too? Nothing’s set up yet!’

  ‘Well, no, but they could have a couple of teas, couldn’t they? Maybe a teacake or two?’

  ‘Try fifteen full English, three omelettes and two pancake stacks!’

  Harper’s mouth fell open. ‘They’ve ordered all that? But Mrs Seacock said…’

  ‘And I swear that old bloke with the pork-pie hat just pinched my arse as I walked past!’

  Harper bit back a grin and Pip’s scowl deepened.

  ‘It’s not funny!’

  ‘It is a bit when you think about it,’ Harper said. ‘If only he knew the half of it…’

  Pip’s scowl broke. ‘I should go and tell him his missus has got more of a chance with me than he has – that would wipe the smug look off his face. And these are supposed to be church folk.’

  ‘I suppose even church folk get a bit frisky from time to time.’

  ‘He’s about two hundred! It would probably kill him!’

  Harper giggled. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise quite how this was going to turn out. What did you say about the breakfasts?’

  ‘I thought you’d agreed to it all so I couldn’t very well say anything, could I?’

  ‘Right then,’ Harper replied briskly. ‘I suppose we’d better get cracking. You go and warm the grill while I fetch the stuff from the fridges.’

  Shay ambled over, hands in his pockets. ‘I’ve sorted out a time to go and look at the electrics,’ he said to Harper as Pip went off to the kitchens. ‘I’ve had a call to go and price up an extension
in Chichester as well.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I need to go out and quote on it. Could be a big job.’

  ‘But I thought you were working here today?’

  ‘I can’t very well turn it down, can I?’

  ‘But do you have to go now?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a fair drive.’

  ‘But what about helping me for the next hour at least?’

  He glanced around the tearoom as the church council began dragging Harper’s tables and chairs around to make a huge circle. She let out a sigh.

  ‘You were daft enough to let them in,’ he said.

  ‘So that’s it? You’re leaving me to it?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her. ‘You know what you’re always saying to me about getting tougher and more assertive…’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ she warned, but he just laughed.

  ‘This is lesson number one,’ he said, ‘and you’ve failed it in spectacular fashion.’

  Harper folded her arms. ‘I thought we were supposed to be a team.’

  ‘We are. But this church posse is all yours…’

  ‘I’ll get you back for this!’ she called as he walked out into the glorious morning, and again that chuckle was the only reply she got.

  * * *

  Mrs Seacock and her ‘church posse’ had actually been very sweet and helped to move all the tables back to their proper places once they’d finished their breakfast meeting. Harper had overheard one or two members talking about making their monthly meeting at the tearoom a regular event, but as she looked at the carnage of leftover breakfasts and dirty dishes she sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen. Especially as, in the end (and as Shay had predicted), she hadn’t the heart to present them with a bill.