Page 16 of Spring Dreams at the Cornish Bakery

‘Okay, I’ve got to go and rescue Gary from the nightmare of bedtime, but ring me if you want to talk. Anytime. Day or night. And don’t make a final decision until you’ve exhausted all over avenues.’

‘Thanks, night.’ Lynsey lowered her mobile to the threadbare carpet on the step next to her. She was surprised that hadn’t been ripped up already, but maybe the previous owners had been planning to keep it in place until the rest of the works had been done. Pulling her mobile from her ear, she tapped it against the leg of her jeans. Nina had surprised her. She’d been so worried about telling her sister about admitting her mistake in buying this cottage. She’d been worried about letting her down, about admitting everyone but herself had been right.

But Nina hadn’t judged. She hadn’t scolded. She had supported. Her sister wanted her to succeed. Her sister wanted this new life for her just as much as Lynsey wanted it.

But Nina hadn’t judged. She hadn’t scolded. She had supported. Her sister wanted her to succeed. Her sister wanted this new life for her just as much as Lynsey wanted it.

Leaning back, the step behind her digging into the small of her back, she took a deep breath in before standing up. Yes, she couldn’t take Nina’s money – she wouldn’t, but just having Lynsey’s support meant the world to her. It meant she could move back home without feeling quite so much like a disappointment.

She turned and climbed the stairs, a little weary in case the previous owner had done something to them too. But Zac had gone upstairs, hadn’t he? So they must be safe enough. A professional builder wouldn’t have risked climbing them if he’d thought anything was overly wrong with them.

When she reached the landing, the first thing she noticed wasn’t the plaster lying in piles – yes piles, not strewn across the floor as downstairs – but the light of the moon shining through the small window at the front of the landing. She walked past the two open bedroom doors and the bathroom and paused in front of the window. The light was up here and looking outside,she would see views of fields illuminated by the magic of the moonlight.

The landing window looked out onto the back of the cottage, with the main bedroom situated at the front of the cottage and the small boxroom and bathroom on either side of the landing. Leaning her elbows on the dusty windowsill, she smiled her first proper smile since she’d stepped inside. This was what she’d been after. The peace and tranquillity that view offered. Even in the moonlight, she could see the glimmer of ocean beyond the fields standing between her and the seaside. The cottage had been built just outside Penworth Bay, on the opposite side of the village to the bakery, but from here she could see the beam of the lighthouse. It was stunning.

A warm feeling stirred inside her, igniting a determination she hadn’t felt in a very long time, not since years before she’d even met Ross. It ignited a determination she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager, before her passion for life had been sucked out of her by work, failed relationships, and the drudgery of everyday living.

It was in that very moment, with the light from the lighthouse and the glow of the moon highlighting the waves of the ocean, that she decided that she needed to change her luck. She needed to do all she could to be able to stay on in Penworth Bay and if that meant getting the renovations on the cottage done bit by bit, heck, room by room, then that’s what she’d do.

The only choices she had was either to give up and sell her chance of a lifetime or to stay and fight, to try, and that’s what she’d do. It might not work. It might not be feasible, financially or otherwise, but if she gave it her best shot and then was forced to sell up, at least she’d known she had tried. Plus, the more work she got done, the better the state of the cottage was in when she sold, the higher the price tag and the more money she’d be able to pocket to find somewhere else to live. But one thingshe was certain of was that she didn’t want to return home. She wanted her fresh start, and she was ready to take it.

Chapter Fifteen

Placing her hands on her hips, Lynsey looked around the living room. She’d made the decision to focus her efforts, and the little money she had left, on the downstairs. She could sleep on the sofa, when she actually got one, until she’d found herself a job and managed to save enough to get the upstairs in a liveable state.

After rummaging through the one remaining kitchen cupboard, she’d found a roll of bin bags and after spending the night gathering as much of the lumps and pieces of broken plaster as she could without a vacuum cleaner, she’d filled seven of the bags, and that was just from the living room.

She grinned. It looked a lot better. Even with just the plaster contained and off the floor, the difference was amazing and she could appreciate the space. She used the toe of her trainer to wipe the floorboards, revealing a beautiful dark oak. With a little work, she was sure she could shine them up beautifully.

She’d also uncovered more tools than she’d first spotted, which had seemingly been left and forgotten. Two sledgehammers with safety goggles and helmets, a hammer, even an electric screwdriver with numerous drill heads. Whoever had sold the cottage must have left in a hurry, or at least given up on the dream of renovating.

Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she glanced towards the window. Her phone had run out of battery a few hours ago, but judging by the fact the sun was still in the process of rising, she figured she had a couple of hours until the bakery would open for the morning. Yes, she’d miss the morning’sbaking, but as Elsie had assured her as a volunteer she wasn’t expected to help with that, but she’d be back by opening.

Enough time to make a start on something else. Walking across to the small pile of abandoned tools, she picked up a sledgehammer and tested it for weight. She could handle that. Leaning it back against the wall, she reached for the plastic goggles and wiped them across her dusty jumper before slipping them on. Next, she balanced one of the oversized hard hats on her head before picking up the sledgehammer again.

Making her way towards the back of the living room and through the door into the small pokey dining room, she widened her stance and practiced swinging the sledgehammer.

It couldn’t hurt to knock through to the kitchen now, could it? If she did it herself, then it would save money. Lifting the heavy sledgehammer up again, she stepped forward. This was it. There would be no going back once she’d started. The door to the kitchen had already been taken off and currently leaned up against the back wall, so maybe the previous owner had had the same idea as her.

Shifting her weight forward, she huffed as she pulled the sledgehammer forward, almost toppling as its weight yanked her forward. And there it was, the loud crunch of metal meeting brick, of bricking cracking. Lowering the sledgehammer to her side, she whooped and pumped her free hand in the air. She could do this! She actually could!

A loud cough sounded from the doorway, and she turned. Zac hunter stood leaning against the doorframe, clipboard in hand as usual. The only difference in his appearance were two shadows beneath his eyes. Dropping the sledgehammer in surprise, Lynsey jumped as it pounded against the floorboard inches from her foot.

‘Careful.’ His gravelly voice broke through the impending silence.

Looking down at the sledgehammer, she moved it carefully and slumped her shoulders as she noticed the newly formed dent in the oak floorboards. ‘Do you always have to sneak up on me?’

He tilted his head to the side and grimaced. ‘I thought the cottage would be empty at this time of the morning.’

She frowned. ‘So you thought you’d... what? Break in?’

‘And what do you propose I might steal?’ He glanced around the room. ‘That battered old door?’

‘I don’t know, but builders don’t usually break into their prospective customer’s homes, do they?’ he had a point though. Whatever the reason he was here for, it wasn’t to steal some good door or a handful of plaster dust.

‘Not any builders I know.’

‘Then I come back to my first question. What are you doing letting yourself into my cottage?’ All she wanted was a straight answer.

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