Page 4 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Whereas she, Laura, what did she have? She was thirty-eight, the middle child, newly divorced and until recently working in a dead-end, mind-numbing job she’d hated with a passion but had stuck with just to give her parents a pittance for rent and cover her mobile bill. Perching on the edge of the four-poster bed, she coughed as a plume of dust filled the air. When she thought about it like that, who could really blame her family for not trusting her choices?

‘I do trust you. We all do…’ Richie tailed off, his voice becoming distant before he addressed her again. ‘Look, sis, I’ve got to run, I’ve got a meeting I need to be in, but believe me, I trust you. It’s the other people I don’t trust.’

‘Bye.’ Speaking quietly into the phone, she ended the call. It meant the same thing, didn’t it? He’d just admitted he didn’t trust her ability to see through people. She hadn’t with Harry. She’d married him, believed all the promises he’d made, fallen for the plans he said he had for the two of them, and where had that led? Her having to make the decision to leave him, that’s where.

But then, maybe that was where her family’s concerns stemmed from. After all, they all still had a soft spot for Harry. Of course, they wouldn’t admit it. Not now. They all told her they supported her decision to end the marriage, but whenever his name was brought up or her failed marriage referenced in passing, their unspoken words hung in the air, the confusion as to why she’d walked out.

And it had been Richie, her own brother, who, whilst she’d been on the phone with him in tears at the side of the road after her car had started to smoke because she’d forgotten to refill the leaky water tank, had uttered those words. ‘If you’d still been with Harry…’ She knew it had been a slip of the tongue, something he’d taken back milliseconds after saying them, but it had given her more than a little insight into how her family felt about her situation – her ‘self-imposed’ situation.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she stood up, pocketed her mobile and walked back into the owners’ suite to begin stripping the bedclothes off the bed. The best thing she could do to avoid wallowing in self-pity was to get back to her tasks, to focus on building her perfect future running this place.

She grimaced as she bundled the bedding into her arms, the thick dust covering her white T-shirt. How long had Ms Tauntonsaid the inn had been empty for? She couldn’t remember, but she hadn’t thought it had been long enough for the dust to build up this much.

3

After stuffing the washing machine full, Laura stood and reached for the washing powder, once again thankful that literally everything had been left here for her. It reminded her of one of those old ships she’d learned about in a secondary school History lesson, found bobbing up and down in the ocean, everything seemingly normal except for the small matter that the entire crew had disappeared into thin air. She remembered being told by her favourite teacher, the one who all the kids had looked up to, Mr Hudson, that the people who had boarded the ship had found the tables laid, meals half-eaten and everything in its place. As far as she knew, the crew’s disappearance still remained a mystery to this day.

Setting the half-full box of powder back down, she spun the dial and pressed ‘start’. Of course, there was no mystery with Pennycress; the owner had merely wanted to hang up her or his innkeeper’s apron and retire. Still, however handy it was, Laura had to admit a small part of her found it a little eerie that everything, from personal effects such as ornaments to the more businesslike items such as the pens at the check-in desk, hadbeen left behind for her. Still, it was her gain and perfect for a novice like she was.

Tilting her head, Laura listened. Had she heard something? Yes, there it was again, a weak, intermittent, dainty tune. Was that the doorbell?

Walking out of the utility room and through the large kitchen towards the hallway, she made another mental note, this time to buy some new batteries for the doorbell. She’d need that working properly if she wasn’t going to miss any guests turning up.

As she pulled the heavy door open, Laura quickly glanced down at her grubby jeans and T-shirt. This wasn’t the first impression she’d been planning on giving to the people of the beautiful Cotswold village of Meadowfield, but it would have to do.

‘Hello, I’m so…’ Her words trailed off, her first ever greeting in the village halted. It wasn’t one of her new neighbours standing on the doorstep ready to welcome her, nor was it some potential guest wondering if she were open. No, the person standing there, mouth agape, was neither of those things.

‘Jackson?’

‘Laura?’ She watched as, shaking his head, his dark curls danced above his furrowed forehead.

‘What are you doing here?’ She flared her nostrils. She knew exactly why Jackson Scott was here. Richie. It obviously hadn’t been enough for her brother to ring and quiz her, remind her that he didn’t believe in her. He’d sent his best mate round, too.

‘I…’ Jackson held his hand aloft, a large wicker basket swinging at his hips.

Laura swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, anger rising from the pit of her stomach. She was a fully grown adult! How many times did she have to remind her parents, her siblings, that she was an independent and capable woman? She didn’t needchecking up on, keeping tabs on, just like she hadn’t needed anyone to view Pennycress Inn with her. She could do this! She began to close the door.

Jackson stubbed his foot against the wooden door, preventing her from shutting the world of disbelievers out, and grinned. ‘This isyournew place, then?’

Glaring down at the large brown boot partially inside her hallway, she looked back up at him, trying to control her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was have a go at him and for him to tell Richie that she was stressed and not coping. Relenting, she threw the door wide again, holding it open with her own foot before crossing her arms. ‘Obviously. And you don’t have to do this.’

‘Do what?’

She waved her hand between them both before tucking it around her middle again. ‘This. You and I both know why you’re here. We both know who sent you and why.’

Without missing a beat, Jackson answered, ‘I’m here because I live in the village. Right next door, as it happens.’

Letting her arms fall to her sides, it was Laura’s turn to be left open-mouthed. ‘You live next door?’

‘Yes.’ Twisting on the front step, Jackson indicated the conifers marking the inn’s boundary. ‘Just beyond there.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Would you like to see my driver’s licence?’ Jackson pulled his wallet from his back pocket with his free hand and, with one deft movement, used the same hand to slide his licence out.

‘No!’ Laura pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘But… Richie never said you lived in Meadowfield.’

‘Richie doesn’t do details. He just knows I live in the Cotswolds.’ Jackson shrugged.

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