New Beginnings At Glendale Hall

by Victoria Walters

  New Beginnings at Glendale Hall

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Part Two

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Part Three

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Epilogue

  A Letter From Vicky

  Acknowledgments

  Author Biography

  Books by Victoria Walters

  Copyright

  New Beginnings at Glendale Hall

  Victoria Walters

  To Harry – thank you for inspiring the cake scene!

  Prologue

  Twelve Years Ago

  The buzzer rang out and I jumped up to answer it, telling Beth Williams to come on up. Biting my lip, I glanced around my tiny flat, part of my catering college’s accommodation, hoping we’d be able to navigate the tiny space together. It wouldn’t be easy but how could I have said no to her coming to stay?

  There was a tentative knock at the door, and I pulled it open. ‘Hi, Beth,’ I said, giving her my warmest smile. She looked like a wreck, poor thing. Exhausted and pale, her eyes red and puffy from crying, and just one bag clutched to her chest.

  ‘Thanks so much for this, Emily,’ she said, walking in when I stepped back to let her through. I closed the door behind us, and she let her bag drop to the floor as she took in her new surroundings.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ I said, pulling her into a quick, tight hug. It had been six years since we had last seen each other after I had left our hometown of Glendale, nestled in the Scottish Highlands, and moved with my parents down to London. ‘Have a seat, you must be exhausted. How was your journey down?’ I asked, wondering if that was a stupid question. I had no idea how she had had the strength to walk out of her family home, the grand Glendale Hall, and make the long journey down to Brixton all alone like she had. I thought of the frantic phone call I’d received from my Aunt Sally, housekeeper at Glendale Hall, asking me if I could help. Beth was devastated that her family didn’t want to support her but she was determined to make it on her own, and when my aunt asked if she could stay with me until she could get herself sorted, I had naturally said yes.

  ‘Pretty tiring,’ she admitted. ‘But I made it.’ Her eyes were wide but she looked relieved. It struck me how much more grown up she seemed since we had last met, but I supposed with everything that had happened to her that was only natural. At sixteen, she was four years younger than me but didn’t seem it. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she had gone through.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s so small. I did tell my aunt to warn you. But this pulls out into a bed,’ I said, patting the edge of the sofa where I hovered. ‘So, it’ll be fine. It’s college accommodation and they allow friends to stay over but obviously not long term so we need to be careful.’ I realised I was babbling a little like I always did when nervous. I glanced at her arms folded in her lap, covering her stomach. ‘How about we have some tea and cake?’ I asked, knowing that always made me feel better. ‘I just baked it,’ I added, walking over to the open-plan kitchen.

  She visibly brightened. ‘I never say no to cake. I remember how much you loved to cook, just like Sally.’

  ‘Baking, mostly. I’m going to own my own bakery one day,’ I said, pulling out a cake knife and reaching for the lemon drizzle that filled the flat with a yummy scent. I glanced at Beth. She looked as if she needed a big slice. ‘It’ll be okay, you know,’ I said then, softly, ‘I promise.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she replied. ‘I won’t have to stay for too long.’

  ‘You can stay for as long as you need,’ I replied as I cut two slices for us. ‘Don’t worry, okay? The hard part is over. You’re here.’

  My aunt had said that Beth’s grandmother had been furious with her, that the argument they had had forced Beth to run away. I knew Beth’s family weren’t easy, they expected a lot from Beth, and she had always rebelled against them but even I had been surprised that they had turned against her so fiercely. It felt old-fashioned to me, but then my family weren’t pillars of the community like the Williams family were up in Glendale. All I knew was that I was happy to help Beth as much as I could. Not just for my aunt’s sake, who loved her like family, or for our childhood friendship when I would often go to the hall and play with her while Aunt Sally worked, but because it was the right thing to do. I wanted a family of my own one day so I understood why she had gone against her family’s wishes. I might have even done the same thing although I knew my parents would always be there for me, like they always had been.

  Beth touched her stomach then, where her unborn baby grew; the baby that her family had told her she shouldn’t keep. ‘I’m here,’ she repeated, and finally a slow, small smile spread across her face.

  Part One

  Chapter One

  I stared at the cream and gold embossed invitation with a mixture of disbelief and pride. The day Beth came to stay with me in London all those years ago flashed through my mind. Who would have thought that scared teenage girl would be inviting me to her wedding twelve years later?

  The sun pooled on the kitchen floor as I sipped my coffee, smiling at the words on the card. I was thrilled that Beth was finally marrying her first and only love, Drew – the father of her daughter, Izzy – at her family home in Scotland. The one she had run from when she had come to live with me at sixteen. She really had got her happily ever after.

  I glanced at the ring-free finger on my left hand and tried to not let a prickle of jealously seep into my skin. It really wasn’t my style, especially as I knew how much Beth deserved this. But my boyfriend Greg had always told me he didn’t believe in marriage and even after three years together, I still harboured a secret hope that he might one day change his mind about that.

>   ‘Any left in the pot for me?’ Greg called as he strode into the kitchen wearing his uniform. That uniform had made me swoon when we had first met. I had been at the bakery where I still worked when a new member of staff had set the kitchen alight and Greg had been the first fireman on the scene. It was pretty much love at first sight for me. All the clichés had been present and correct – he was tall, broad and strapping, with dark hair and a dimple in his cheek when he grinned. After he had put the fire out, he strode over to me, full of confidence, and handed me a piece of paper with his phone number on. The epitome of charming, you just couldn’t help but warm to Greg when you met him. Even now, when we were far away from those first heady, love-struck weeks, he could still make me melt if he tried.

  The problem was, he just didn’t bother trying as much any more.

  Perhaps that’s what happened to every couple who lived together but it was starting to worry me.

  ‘Plenty,’ I replied, watching him go to pour himself a large cup of coffee. He was working day shifts this week so we actually got to see one another in the morning. ‘I can’t believe the wedding is only a couple of weeks away now,’ I said, sliding the invitation across the kitchen table towards him. He leaned against the counter to sip his coffee, giving it a cursory glance. ‘It’s come around so quickly,’ I added, as he didn’t seem to be studying it at all closely.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get the time off now,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘I thought you had it all booked?’ I asked, surprised. Beth had given us months’ notice of their intended date, and he was well aware of how important it was for me to be there. Not only as the long-time family friend I was, but because Beth had asked me to be one of her bridesmaids (even though I said I was too old to be called that) and had also asked me to bake their wedding cake.

  ‘I did, but the chief says I’m needed at work now. There’s not much I can do, babe.’ He gulped down the rest of his coffee. ‘But you’ll have so much to do there, it’s not like we’d have any fun.’

  ‘It’s a wedding, of course we would!’ I cried, annoyed that something which meant so much to me could mean so little to him.

  He strode over to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. ‘I’m sorry, babe, but you know what the chief is like,’ he said, walking out as briskly as he had entered. ‘See you later!’ he called back, whistling as he left our house, not seeming to have noticed that I hadn’t replied.

  I sighed, the sound echoing in the empty room. I couldn’t believe he was only telling me now that he wouldn’t be coming, just a couple of weeks before we were meant to be up in Scotland. Not only had I been really looking forward to the wedding, I had also been hoping it would be an opportunity for us to reconnect. That it would have been romantic to be there together, snuggled up at Glendale Hall, watching two people in love make their vows.

  But now it looked like I’d be going up there alone.

  Looking at the clock on the wall, I jumped up. There was no time to wallow in self-pity, I had to get to work myself. I pulled my long, blonde hair up into a ponytail, grabbed my jacket and bag and locked up our house. It was a small but pretty property in Clapham. I loved it – not only because I still couldn’t quite believe we owned our own home in the city, but because it was cosy and homely, and only a twenty-minute walk to work.

  June was already starting to warm up the city nicely and once midday came around, I knew I wouldn’t need my jacket any longer. I enjoyed my walk to work; it took me through a park that made you forget you were in London, reminding me of the countryside I had grown up surrounded by. Thanks to the sunshine and blue sky, I had cheered up considerably by the time I opened the door to the bakery.

  I had worked at Molly’s Bakery for five years. Molly, the owner, was a lovely lady – she had run the bakery for forty years and I loved her like a second mother. The problem with that was it had so far proved impossible for me to think about leaving her. The prospect of opening my own bakery one day still hung dangling like a carrot for a future Emily to grab hold of, but present Emily just couldn’t quite grasp it. I didn’t have the money yet either. So, it had been easy to keep putting off thinking about it.

  The delicious smell of freshly baked bread filled my nostrils as I headed for the back. The place always smelled wonderful and had a slightly old-fashioned feel to it, somewhat out of place with the trendier shops and eateries nearby, but even more beloved by the locals because of that fact. Molly would never gentrify her bakery. And woe betide anyone who even dared to mention the word.

  ‘Emily, darling,’ Molly said, beaming as I went to hang up my jacket and put on an apron. She was a petite, pretty woman with white hair that was always carefully pinned back. ‘You must try one of these!’ She thrust a pastry at me. ‘Now, tell me what you think and be honest…’

  I took it with a grin. This was the reason I was what you’d call ‘curvy’. No one could be skinny with Molly around. That is, apart from our new girl Steph, who was built like a rake and made me feel like I should try to cut down the amount of cake I ate. It was just so hard to resist everything, though. I took a bite of the pastry and let out a moan. ‘That’s so good, Molly!’

  ‘Apple and cinnamon. Just so warming, isn’t it? Shall I add them to the menu?’

  ‘Definitely!’ I polished the rest of it off. ‘And make sure you give me the recipe.’

  ‘Naturally, my dear. Now, I need to tackle the dreaded books. Will you be okay out the front on your own until Steph gets here?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ I replied. Steph was there to help with the morning and lunch time rush. Once that was over, Molly and I could start baking out the back while keeping an ear out for any late customers until everything had been sold for the day. Molly usually shut up by four p.m. as she had to be up so early to bake bread in the morning. I still didn’t know where she got her energy from.

  I opened up the doors and all thoughts of Beth’s wedding and Greg’s disappointing absence from it faded away as I dealt with people desperate for one of Molly’s treats on the way to work. Steph arrived half an hour later and we were rushed off our feet until lunch time.

  ‘I’m exhausted!’ Steph cried when at last the queue had gone. She looked at the counter. ‘There’s barely anything left.’

  ‘Everyone was walking to work today as it’s such a nice morning and had to stop off on the way,’ I guessed. I leant against the counter. ‘We’ve made a killing, though.’

  Steph pulled out her phone. ‘I have, like, fifty WhatsApp messages!’ she cried, scrolling through. Any spare moment she got, she was glued to her iPhone. She was studying at a local uni and working at the bakery to help fund her studies. I sometimes envied her being at the start of her journey. I glanced over at her as she smiled, her cheeks flushing a little.

  ‘New fella on the scene?’ I asked, cringing at myself for using the word ‘fella’. Sometimes she made me feel twenty years older than her, and not ten.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said, quickly, putting her phone back into her apron pocket. ‘Just arranging to meet some friends later. We’re going to a club.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said, thinking that I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d set foot in a club. Greg and I had a great social life when we first got together but then all our friends started getting married and having babies, so not only had nights out been traded for coffee mornings and soft play areas, it had become more and more painful to spend much time with them. ‘I’m going to check on Molly,’ I said to Steph, needing to stop comparing myself to someone whose life was so different to mine. Different, I reminded myself, not necessarily better.

  ‘It was manic out there!’ I told Molly as I walked into the back, sitting down on one of the office chairs, relieved to be off my feet for a bit.

  ‘That’s good. Look what I spotted at the wholesaler… I thought you could use it for your friend’s wedding cake, maybe?’ Molly showed me the white and silver pack of iced roses.

  ‘Oh, thanks. I’m
still debating on what colour scheme to do. But they are lovely.’

  ‘What about the sponge? Have you decided on that yet?’

  I groaned. ‘I don’t know why I’m being so indecisive about it. It doesn’t help that Beth isn’t around to taste anything. She just wants to leave it all up to me but I’m scared it won’t be right.’

  ‘Well, of course you want it to be perfect but she trusts you so don’t worry too much.’

  ‘I just want to make sure it’s extra special.’ I tried not to think the reason I was so desperate to make Beth’s wedding cake perfect was because I was worried I’d never have one of my own.

  Molly gave me a sympathetic look. ‘It will be special because you will make it with love. Are you getting excited for your trip back to Scotland? Greg must be eager to finally see where you grew up?’

  I had been so excited to show him the village of Glendale, nestled in the Scottish Highlands, after trying to persuade him to come up there with me for as long as we’d been together but there had never been a ‘good’ time, and now I was worried there never would be. I couldn’t stop the cloud from falling over my face. ‘Well, Greg now says that he can’t have the time off work so it looks like I’ll be going alone.’ I looked away, afraid that the pity on Molly’s face would make me cry.

  ‘That’s a shame, love.’ She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. ‘How are things now between the two of you?’

  I sighed. Molly knew all about our problems; she was the first person I turned to for advice after my own mother. ‘Not great, which was why I had been so excited to go away with him. But that’s not happening now. I know it’s not his fault but I am disappointed, you know?’

  ‘Of course you are!’

  ‘Anyway, why don’t I get a batch of cupcakes started? We can put them in the window to tempt the kids on the way home from school.’ I got up and headed for the kitchen area, knowing that I needed to do something or I would definitely start crying on her shoulder. It wasn’t just the fact that Greg wouldn’t be coming away with me that had upset me so much, it was the fact that he didn’t seem to care less about it. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it was just one more sign that things were going from bad to worse with us. Signs I’d been trying desperately to hide from for months but which were becoming impossible to ignore.