The Little Village of Happiness
A gorgeous uplifting romantic comedy to escape with this summer
Holly Martin
Published by Holly Martin in 2019
Copyright © Holly Martin, 2019
Holly Martin has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
eBook ISBN 978-1-9160111-3-7
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events all locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Emma Rogers
Formatted by AB Formatting
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
Chapter 34
Afterword
A note about Andrew
Also by Holly Martin
A letter from Holly
Acknowledgments
One
Willow McKay swerved across the road to avoid a pheasant and checked in the rear-view mirror to see it stumble safely back onto the grassy verge and disappear into the tall bushes that lined the road. What was it with this place? That was the fourth animal that had almost been squished under the wheels of her car. Maybe the animals round here were particularly stupid or they just weren’t used to cars. She had been driving along this little country lane for what seemed like an hour, going up and down hills, and hadn’t passed a single vehicle. The village of Happiness really was in the furthest corner of nowhere.
But that was exactly what she needed.
Six months ago she had proposed to her boyfriend of four years and he’d said yes. The very next day, he’d changed his mind.
In hindsight, she hadn’t really wanted to marry Garry with two Rs, which was how he introduced himself to everyone. She’d just wanted something to change between them. They had stagnated for far too long. She’d kind of thought a marriage proposal would be the make or break of them. And in reality she wouldn’t have cared too much if he’d said no, she just wished he’d done that before she had announced the news on Facebook and told all her friends and family. The texts and Facebook posts reporting the change in her status the next day were more than slightly awkward.
Although she and Garry with two Rs had parted fairly amicably, her friends and the people in her town couldn’t seem to let it go. The looks of pity, the sniggers; she’d had enough.
She needed a fresh start and Happiness was just the place to make it happen. The illustrated poster on the advert had showed glittering seas and the little whitewashed Cornish village tumbling down the hillside. It had looked tranquil and inviting.
Brightly coloured flowers danced and bobbed on the roadside as she passed, the warmth of the sun seeped into the car like a cosy blanket and up ahead she could spot the sea sparkling like a turquoise-sequinned carpet spread out beneath her.
It filled her with hope.
The opportunity to move to Happiness had seemed too good to be true. The privately owned village lay nestled in the grounds of a castle and, in an attempt to fill some of the empty houses, the new owners had offered free accommodation for a year to anyone who could give something back to the village, either by taking over one of the closed shops, fulfilling a role in the community such as a doctor or teacher, or providing some kind of service. And while candlemaking couldn’t exactly be described as something vital like being a doctor, she still felt that she had something to offer. And clearly so did the new owners of the castle, Kitty and Ken, who had practically snapped her hand off, offering her a place in the village within a few hours of her applying. She was excited about the change.
A jaunty little sign on the side of the road declared she had finally reached her destination.
Welcome to Harmony Castle and the Village of Happiness.
She couldn’t help but smile as she swept through the gateposts and drove past the castle. It looked a bit tired in places and one poor turret seemed like it had crumbled away to nothing. It must be very expensive to maintain these kinds of places. She drove round the front of it and came to a row of four houses, though she could see the road wound away down the hill and included several more houses and shops. She had been allocated Sunrise Cottage but she had no idea where to look.
She pulled up on one side of the green and got out.
The four houses here were grey. There was no other word for it. These were not the whitewashed cottages she had seen in the poster. Some of the windows were broken, one house had its shutters hanging off and the flowers in the hanging baskets were dead. Two of the houses actually looked like they were sinking into the ground. The sun dipped behind the clouds, leaving a dullness that made the light in her heart go out. Was this what the whole village was like?
Why hadn’t she visited before she packed up all her worldly goods and left the little town of St Octavia behind for the Cornish coast? Her mum always said she was too impetuous, the kind to rush in and ask questions later. That had been her trouble throughout her life. She made snap decisions and then often regretted them later. She was already second guessing this decision.
Her eyes scanned across the houses; they didn’t even look habitable let alone like anyone lived there. In fact there didn’t seem to be a single other person in sight. Was she literally going to be the only person to live in the village of Happiness?
A roar came from the castle and a man appeared on a quad bike. He was wearing a sky-blue baseball hat, a paint-splattered t-shirt, and faded cargo shorts. His dark curly hair stuck out in different directions from underneath his hat. He bumped down the hill towards her and came to a stop, flashing her a small cautious smile.
‘Hi, I’m Andrew Harrington, I’m the estate manager here.’
She tried to recover herself from the shock of the state of the village. ‘I’m—’
‘Willow McKay, yes we’ve been expecting you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived, I would have stopped you from seeing that shambles behind you.’
‘How would you have stopped me from seeing it, by blindfolding me?’
‘It crossed my mind,’ he grinned.
He had a nice smile. Although Garry with two Rs had a nice smile and look where that had landed her.
‘Come on, hop on, I’ll take you down to your cottage,
’ Andrew said.
‘What about all my stuff?’
‘I’ll give you a hand with all that after, I’m sure you’re dying to see your new home. I promise, it’s nothing like this.’
Willow eyed the back of the quad bike dubiously and then climbed on.
‘You might want to hold onto something, it gets a bit bumpy in parts,’ Andrew said. ‘Wouldn’t want to lose you on the way.’
There was nowhere to hold onto except Andrew himself and from the smile on his face, he knew that.
‘I normally insist on dinner before wrapping my arms around a man.’
‘Well if you insist, I’ll let you take me out for dinner later,’ Andrew said.
She smiled. ‘Any weird spellings to your name that I should know about?’
‘Only the silent K in the middle,’ Andrew said.
She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. Maybe life in the village of Happiness wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Two
They bumped down the little cobbled road, passing shops and houses that appeared not to have been lived in or used for years. A couple of the shops looked like they might be open during working hours but at the moment all the doors were closed and the lights were off.
‘How many people live here?’ Willow asked.
‘Forty-seven in the village, well forty-eight now you’ve arrived. That doesn’t include the housekeeper up at the castle or Kitty and Ken.’
‘What are they like?’
‘Lovely, really wonderful people. You’ll like them,’ Andrew said, loyally.
She would have to pop in and introduce herself properly.
‘And how many houses are in the village?’
‘Including the four where you parked your car, one hundred and twelve. Seventy-five of them are empty.’
That was a bit depressing.
‘How many of the shops are in use?’
‘Four at the moment, five when you open up yours.’
That really was a sad state of affairs. It wasn’t the thriving village that she’d expected.
‘That’s the only pub in the village,’ Andrew pointed at a tall stone building with a battered old sign swinging gently outside: The Welcome Home.
They took a right at a little fork off the main road and travelled down a tiny track lined with overhanging trees. There were a few more houses down here.
‘That’s my house,’ Andrew pointed to a pale blue little cottage, hidden under a mountain of thatch. It was tidy and well maintained and the garden was blooming with flowers. ‘Feel free to pop in at any time and if you have any problems, you know where to call.’
They passed a few other houses and then the trees fell away and Willow was treated to a glorious view of the sea. Andrew pulled to a stop outside a bright yellow house.
‘This is Sunrise Cottage,’ Andrew gestured grandly.
Although it was very small, it at least looked like it wasn’t going to fall down any time soon, which Willow supposed was a bonus, and it had an amazing view. Her view from the front of the house she had shared with Garry had a view of the houses on the opposite side of the street and a graveyard from the back. It hadn’t exactly been inspiring.
She climbed off the bike and Andrew rushed forward to open the little gate, which almost fell off in his hand as he did.
‘I’ll fix that,’ Andrew muttered, as he tried to shove it back onto its hinges and failed.
The lawn had been recently mowed and there were a few flowers trying to bloom in the overgrown borders; there was potential here. And the newly painted bench, angled to take in the view, was a lovely touch.
‘The door is open,’ Andrew said.
Willow pushed it, feeling the tackiness of freshly painted wood. So tacky in fact, her hand actually stuck to the wood. She peeled it off, leaving a lovely handmark on the front door.
‘Ah sorry, I thought that would be dry by now. Don’t worry, I’ll paint over the handprint.’
She walked in and was faced with a tiny lounge with a bright red two-seater sofa, a tiny coffee table and an old cube-shaped TV in one corner. There was also a little log burner. She could see the kitchen through an archway. There was a slightly tatty feel to the place, but it had obviously been cleaned and patched up and painted recently. Someone, probably Andrew, had tried to make it feel like a home. There was even a vase of freshly picked flowers above the fireplace.
She looked at him and he was watching her hopefully.
‘It’s lovely,’ Willow said, truthfully.
‘I’m glad you like it. Now the shower has just been grouted so I’m afraid you can’t use it until tomorrow night to be on the safe side, but you’re welcome to pop up and use mine if you want one before then.’
‘You’re inviting me to use your shower, that’s very forward,’ Willow teased.
He smirked. ‘It’s not like I’m offering to scrub your back for you. I’ll be downstairs, with my eyes closed for good measure.’
Willow giggled at the thought of him sitting on his sofa with his eyes firmly closed just in case.
‘Well that’s very kind of you.’
He shrugged. ‘Now, I wouldn’t recommend bringing your car down here, the lane is too rocky for that and probably too narrow. So if you give me your keys, I’ll hook the trailer up to the back of the quad bike, load your stuff into that and bring it down here myself. Why don’t you go out for a walk, get to know the place, and by the time you get back, all your stuff will be here. I’ll park your car in the car park behind the castle and leave your keys here too.’
‘Wow, that is good service. Let me give you a hand loading the trailer, there’s quite a lot of stuff.’
‘There’s no need. As many of the elderly folk say, I’m a big strong lad, I can cope with a few bags. Please, go and explore, meet the locals.’
‘OK, if you’re sure.’ Willow couldn’t deny that she wanted to see her new home.
‘You can go back to the village the way we just came. Or if you follow the coastal path to the left along the cliff path, you’ll come to some steps that will take you down to the beach. You can go left at the top of the steps and the path will take you to the bottom of the main high street. Keep following that and you’ll come to the pub again. The village is kind of laid out in a big triangle so it’s not too hard to find your way around.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, handing him her car keys.
He smiled and ducked back out the door. He really was rather huge. She watched him walk down the path, shaking his head at the gate as he passed through it, and then he climbed on the quad bike and roared away, giving her a wave as he disappeared up the lane.
She stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. She hadn’t seen a key but she supposed Andrew must have that. As there was nothing of hers in the house and she was really in the back end of nowhere, she wasn’t too bothered. She walked out of the gate and took the coastal path that wound its way past the cottage and along the cliff tops.
The view from up here was utterly spectacular, the sea a gorgeous turquoise green glittering with gold-crested waves. She could see the cliff tops and meadows that hugged the coast stretching out for miles ahead of her and, other than the rooftops of the houses from the village of Happiness, she couldn’t spot a single sign of life as far as the eye could see.
The idea of solitude appealed to her but the isolation of Happiness meant it was just a bit too quiet. At least in St Octavia, she would pass people on the streets she had never seen before, she could walk into a shop without everyone knowing her name. She got the sense that here, in the village of Happiness, if she so much as sneezed the whole village would know about it.
Her phone rang in her pocket and she smiled when she saw it was her best friend Ruby. She answered it.
‘Hey Rubes, how’s it going?’ Willow said as she walked along the little cliff path.
‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?’ Ruby laughed.
‘Well I’ve arrived in the vi
llage of Happiness.’
‘And is it happy? Are there little lambs gambolling everywhere, children dancing round the maypole, flowers blooming from every surface?’
‘Not quite,’ Willow said. ‘It looks pretty dead, some of the houses don’t even look habitable.’
‘Ah Willow. You know that famous expression?’
‘Only fools rush in?’
‘No, you’re not a fool, you’re an optimist. Which is a lovely thing to be. I was going to say, “Look before you leap.” Maybe you should have checked this place out before you decided to move there.’
Willow sighed; she knew Ruby was right. She was definitely a fool.
‘It’s only for a year,’ Willow said, trying to defend her decision. ‘I have to start paying rent to the owners of the village after a year. I’m not staying if I hate it, but at least I can save some money while I’m here so I can buy or rent somewhere if I come back. But I think I need this. I don’t think it was just mine and Garry’s relationship that had stagnated, I had too. I want adventure and change and, while I’ve only met one living person so far and the village looks half in ruin, maybe Happiness is the place to find it. I’ve always wanted to live near the sea and now my house is right on the edge of the cliff. The view is startling.’
‘Always the optimist,’ Ruby said, fondly. ‘You know you didn’t need to run away just because of what happened with Garry.’
The Little Village of Happiness: A gorgeous uplifting romantic comedy to escape with this summer Page 1