Page 33 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Laura shook her head slowly and spoke quietly as the realisation sank in. ‘They were right.’

‘Who was? About what?’

‘My parents, Richie, Jenny…’ she nodded fiercely towards the front door, ‘the villagers. I’m not cut out for this, and I was pathetic for even thinking I could be.’

‘Laura, youarecut out for this. You’d be perfect at running an inn. You’re just the sort of owner that Pennycress needs.’

‘Uh-uh. I’m not. It’s embarrassing really. That I thought I could. I told my old work colleagues my plans before I left; my friends…’ She wiped her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. ‘They’ll all know what a failure I am when I return and beg for my old job back.’

‘You won’t…’

‘And my family… well, everyone knows what they think of me already, and this will just be the confirmation they need. They knew I couldn’t cope. They’ve been trying to talk me out of it ever since I began talking about buying an inn to run. I’ve failed.’ She was on a roll now, all of her emotions pouring out of her. She remembered their reaction the first time she told them her plans. She’d been mulling the idea over in her mind for some time, gathering information before bringing it up in conversation during one of her mum’s roast dinners.

She shook her head at the memory. Her mum had actually been speechless for a whole three minutes – her mum! And then it had been her dad who had uttered the first words – ‘Are you sure, Laura? Are you certain you want to take on that amount of responsibility?’ He hadn’t needed to say anything else, that one question had spoken volumes to her: they didn’t think she was capable. And they were right.

‘Your family love you and support you. They always have. And you certainly are not a failure.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ She stabbed her finger at him. ‘They’ve never believed in me. I’ve always been the one who had to rely on people, first my parents, then Harry, then my parents again. And now you.’

‘You’re not relying on me. I happen to live next door. It’s just fate.’

‘No.’ She began pulling little pieces of wallpaper from her T-shirt. ‘They know me better than I know myself.’

With his shoulders sinking, Jackson looked across at her again. ‘Nobody knows you better than you know yourself.’

Covering her face with her hands, she closed her eyes as she felt the big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘They do.’

‘No, they don’t.’ Dropping the rag he held in his hand, Jackson muttered ‘drat’ under his breath before fixing his eyes on her. ‘Look at me, Laura. Look at me.’

She slowly drew her hands back to her lap and met his gaze, their eyes locking. She didn’t care that she looked a mess; she didn’t care that her face was puffy and red. This was it. She couldn’t go on pretending anymore that she had everything together because in that moment that illusion was so far from the truth, she’d laugh if she didn’t feel so empty.

‘You’ve got this. Pennycress Inn is a stunning building that just needs some love and attention. All the things you can give it.’

She shook her head. She didn’t know why he was even pretending any longer. She’d accepted it.

Taking his hands away from the pipe, he turned to walk over to her before getting an earful of water and hurriedly turning his attention back to the wall. ‘Damn.’

‘Sorry,’ Laura mumbled. Now look at what she’d done, she’d dragged him into this sorry mess and he’d given up his evening to help her, to get what in return? Ruined clothes and her crying at him, that’s what.

‘Ha, don’t you apologise for that!’ Jackson began to chuckle.

‘I really don’t see what’s funny about this situation.’ Laura sniffed. ‘My life is falling apart around me. I mean, my property is literally falling apart around me. How is that funny?’

‘It’s not. It’s not funny. It’s just…’ His expression becoming serious again, he shook his head. ‘I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, the way the world sees you.’

‘Like an awkwardly made Halloween costume of a snowman having encountered a massacre with a wallpaper decorator?’ She looked down at herself.

‘Don’t forget the pool party.’ Jackson chuckled again.

‘Oh yes, the pool party.’ Pulling the sodden fabric of her T-shirt from her belly, she wrung it in her hands, watching the water dribbling to her lap, and slowly her tears turned to laughter as her shoulders shook and she surveyed the room, which up until a few hours earlier had been beautiful and upmarket and now looked like somewhere that had been abandoned for years and the local wildlife had made it their home.

‘There, done.’ Jackson stepped back cautiously, eyeing the pipe until he was sure the danger of being covered with water again had indeed been averted. Walking across to where she still sat curled up on the floor by the reception desk, Jackson lowered himself to the floor next to her.

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. Nothing a little plumbers’ putty won’t fix.’ He grinned as he ran his hands down his top, leaving a trail of grime on the once clean navy wool of his jumper. At least she could offer to wash it now the washing machine had been fixed.

‘I wasn’t thanking you for fixing the pipe, but thank you for that, too. I was thanking you for making me laugh.’

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