The Cottage at Hope Cove Read online

  The Cottage at Hope Cove

  Hope Cove Book 1

  Hannah Ellis

  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

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Escape to Oakbrook Farm

  Other books by Hannah Ellis

  A note from the author

  Acknowledgments

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 Hannah Ellis

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover design by Aimee Coveney

  To Dave, Mark and Pete

  With love

  Chapter 1

  The first time Elizabeth Beaumont had doubts about her wedding, she was shopping for a bridesmaid’s dress. If she wasn’t getting married, she wouldn’t be enduring the torment of shopping with her sister. They were only shopping for a dress and shoes, for goodness’ sake. How difficult could it be? At the rate they were going they’d need another shopping trip – and she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

  “Do you hate me?” Josie asked, pulling up the legs of her scruffy jeans to look down at the elegant beige heels she wore.

  “Of course I don’t hate you,” Elizabeth said, her fingers clenching into fists. Taking a deep breath, she unclenched her hands. “But it’s my wedding and you’re my bridesmaid. Will you please wear them? They’re only shoes.”

  “Shoes that might maim me,” Josie said. “I’ve told you a million times: I’ve got odd-shaped feet. I can’t wear shoes like this. It’s agony. I’ll end up barefoot and bleeding.”

  Elizabeth squeezed the bridge of her nose. “But you’re a bridesmaid – you can’t wear a pair of scruffy old Converse.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be your bridesmaid then,” Josie muttered, then winced as though she expected the comment to lead to World War Three.

  Actually, Elizabeth agreed. The only reason she hadn’t suggested that herself was because she didn’t want a family argument. For once, she and Josie were on the same wavelength.

  She was about to say something to that effect when her mother looked up from the bridal magazine she was studying. Susan Beaumont had been keeping out of the petty bickering until that point.

  “Of course you’ll be a bridesmaid,” she said, glaring at Josie and clicking her tongue. “You’re sisters.” She paused. “And of course you can’t wear your tatty old trainers.”

  “I know that!” Josie snapped. “I’ll get a new pair.” She looked seriously at Elizabeth. “You can choose whichever Converse you want me to wear. There are some limited edition white ones with just a smattering of glitter—”

  “Oh my God!” Elizabeth screeched, pacing the shop. “I can’t believe you’re serious. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Because I don’t want my feet to bleed?” Josie said. “I don’t understand what your problem is. It’s your wedding day. Surely you’ll have better things to think about than my footwear?”

  Elizabeth dropped onto the couch. “Please wear the shoes. It’s one day. Just wear the shoes!”

  “I don’t even know why I had to come today. My opinion means nothing to you. You should have picked the dress and shoes for me.”

  The dress had been the first issue of the day; that had been difficult enough to find. It hadn’t occurred to Elizabeth that choosing shoes could be even more problematic.

  “That would probably have been better,” she agreed, glaring at her mother, who’d organised the shopping trip for the three of them.

  “Oh, come on, girls,” Susan said. “I thought we’d have a fun morning together.”

  “You’re just having a mid-life crisis anyway,” Josie mumbled.

  Elizabeth sat up straighter. “What did you say?”

  Perching on a stool, Josie massaged her feet, looking sheepish. “You and Phil have been together forever,” she said. “And you decide to get married after all this time? It seems like you’re having a mid-life crisis.” She avoided eye contact with Elizabeth and concentrated on putting her socks and shoes back on.

  “People don’t get married because they’re having a mid-life crisis,” Elizabeth spat. Josie always knew how to get under her skin. By now, she should have learned to ignore her. Unfortunately she hadn’t. “They buy a sports car or have an affair. They don’t get married! Besides, I’m not even middle-aged, so how can I have a mid-life crisis?”

  Josie grinned mischievously. “You’re thirty-four!”

  “Exactly. That’s not middle-aged.”

  “You can’t think you’re still a youth?” Josie asked, amused.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then you’ve got two choices: middle-aged or old. Take your pick!”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly. “Will you please tell her I’m not middle-aged?” she said quietly to her mum.

  Her mum’s silence unnerved her. She turned and glared at her. “I am not middle-aged!” she said, a little louder than she had intended. A passing shop assistant stopped in her tracks. After a moment, she flashed a professional smile and continued on her way.

  “You also never had an engagement party,” Josie said. “You didn’t even announce your engagement. It’s hard to take it seriously.”

  “Announce my engagement?” Elizabeth said. “Nobody does that any more. You really expected me to put an advert in the newspaper?”

  Josie stared in disbelief. “I meant on Facebook! Of course not in a newspaper!”

  “Why should I put it on Facebook? I never go on Facebook. I wouldn’t even know how to announce something on there.”

  “Give me your phone,” Josie said, standing in front of her.

  “No!”

  “Oh, come on. At least let me change your relationship status. It’s like poor Phil doesn’t exist if anyone looks at your page.”

  “Fine,” Elizabeth said after a pause. She handed her phone over. “But can you please choose some shoes so I can go home.”

  Josie ignored her and tapped on the phone. It made Elizabeth nervous.

  “Give me that back,” Elizabeth finally said.

  “Congratulations on your engagement!” Josie said sarcastically as she tossed the phone into Elizabeth’s lap.

  Susan sighed heavily. “Why do you have to bicker all the time? All I wanted was a relaxed mor
ning with my girls.”

  “Well, it’s been lovely,” Josie said, rolling her eyes as she dragged her fingers through her light brown hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. “But would anyone care if I left now?”

  “What about the shoes?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I don’t care,” Josie said. “Buy the awful things. Or don’t. Whatever. It’s, like, a year until the wedding anyway.”

  “Nine months, actually,” Elizabeth said as Josie turned to leave.

  “How are you going to get home?” Susan called after her.

  Josie waved over her shoulder. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “It would be good if you two could make more effort to get along,” Susan said once she and Elizabeth were alone.

  “We get along fine,” Elizabeth said, moving slowly through the shop. “When you don’t force us to spend time together.”

  “If I didn’t get you together, I’m not sure you’d ever speak to each other.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, she’s not shy about calling me when she wants something. You know I ended up giving her friend an internship at the magazine just so Josie would stop calling me about it?” Elizabeth was the managing editor at MyStyle magazine. It was a high-powered position, overseeing all aspects of the publication. Josie’s friend, Emily, had been looking for some work experience. Elizabeth was sure she’d regret it, but she’d caved in just to put an end to Josie’s persistent phone calls.

  “I heard,” Susan said, pulling her sunglasses from the top of her head as they stepped into the sunny Oxford street. “She should call you when she wants something. She’s your sister.”

  “But that’s the only time she calls me.”

  “You do realise it’s you who doesn’t have time for her, not the other way around?”

  Elizabeth ignored the comment and focused on finding a coffee shop. She was in desperate need of caffeine.

  “You work too much,” Susan went on. “It’s not healthy. You need balance in your life. You should make more time for friends and family.”

  “Mum!” Elizabeth snapped. “I thought you wanted a fun morning? Stop nagging.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Anyway, I’m going on holiday next week. A complete break from work.”

  “Oh yes, your trip to Devon. When do you leave?”

  “Friday.”

  “Good. It’s about time you took a break.”

  Elizabeth nodded. It had been ages since she’d taken any time off work, and the cottage she’d booked in Devon looked stunning. It was right on the coast in a little village near Salcombe. A bit of sun, sea and sand would surely do her and Phil the world of good. So would actually spending some time together. That would be a welcome change. Their demanding jobs meant that quality time together was limited, and in recent weeks work had been particularly hectic.

  Yes, some time with Phil and a change of scene was exactly what she needed. She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 2

  When she got home Phil was in the kitchen, hunched over his laptop. He muttered a hello, but didn’t look up. When she kissed his cheek, he made a vague attempt to drag his attention away from his work but only managed a tilt of his head in her direction. His focus never left the computer screen.

  “How was shopping?” he asked as she slipped into the chair opposite him.

  “About as good as a shopping trip with my sister could be.”

  He acknowledged her with a vague grunt. Elizabeth pushed gently at the lid of the laptop until it began to close. Phil reached over to stop her. They exchanged a smirk and he kept his eyes on her as she went on.

  “Josie had the cheek to call me middle-aged.”

  “How dare she?” he said, his lips twitching in amusement. “You have to admire her bravery. I’d never dare say such a thing!”

  “So you think I’m middle-aged too?”

  “We’re not exactly spring chickens any more,” he said.

  “Speak for yourself!”

  Phil was approaching forty, and definitely had a whiff of middle age about him. But Elizabeth was only thirty-four and had never considered herself middle-aged. Surely it hadn’t crept up on her without her noticing? It was a depressing thought.

  “I don’t know why you let her get to you,” he said.

  “She also thinks we’re only getting married because I’m having a mid-life crisis.”

  Phil looked amused. “She really does know how to push your buttons.” His gaze drifted back to the computer and Elizabeth tried another tactic: she walked over and sat on his lap.

  “But what a ridiculous thing to say.”

  “And yet you’re still thinking about it?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “She thinks it’s weird that we’ve been together so long and are only just getting married.”

  “It’s what people do, isn’t it?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “How very romantic of you!”

  “You know what I mean,” he said, as she got up and walked over to the fridge. “It’s what people who are in love do…”

  “I guess so.” She poured a glass of orange juice. “I’ll leave you to your first love, shall I?” she said, nodding at the laptop. “Feels like I interrupted something.”

  “Sorry.” He took her hand, pulling her back as she began to walk away. “Dennis broke his leg. He had an operation yesterday to have pins put in it. He’s out of action for a while so I need to pick up the slack. It means next week will be hectic, so I thought I’d get on with some stuff.”

  Dennis was Phil’s boss at Taylor & West, a financial services consultancy firm. With him out of the picture, she knew Phil would have to take over. “That’s not good.”

  “Nope.”

  “It won’t be a problem for the holiday, will it?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ll have to keep in touch with the office while we’re away, but it should be fine.”

  “Good. I really need a break.”

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “You expect me to believe you won’t do any work while we’re away?”

  A smile spread slowly over her face. “I might check my emails once or twice…”

  “And the rest!”

  “It’s the change of scenery I’m excited about.”

  “We’re only going down the road. Remind me again why we’re going to Devon and not somewhere exotic?”

  “Because I have fond memories of Devon and it’s years since I’ve been there.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m only teasing. I can’t wait.” He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. She took that as her cue to leave.

  She headed upstairs to the study and got her own laptop out. It was a safe bet that she wouldn’t get much attention from Phil for the rest of the weekend. Not that she minded too much – she also had work to get on with. As always. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until Monday, but she wasn’t the sort of person to put things off. If something needed doing, she got on and did it. The trouble was, that meant she rarely had a break.

  Another week, then she could switch off. It would definitely be good for her and Phil to have some time together. Maybe they’d even rekindle some passion. There hadn’t been much of that in their relationship recently. But surely that was normal after ten years together?

  For a moment, Josie’s words niggled at her again. Ten years together and then they’d decided to get married. Elizabeth wasn’t even sure why they’d decided to do it now. There’d been no big romantic proposal. They’d been at a work do, and a couple of Phil’s colleagues had joked about him making an honest woman of her. In the taxi home, merry from too much wine, he’d vaguely suggested that maybe they should get married. Maybe they should? That had been the extent of his proposal.

  She’d agreed that maybe they should – and things had snowballed from there.

  Chapter 3

  As expected, the weekend passed in an uneventful blur. Phil barely looked up from his laptop and they moved around the house hardly registeri
ng each other, except for short conversations about meals. It was Monday morning before Elizabeth knew it.

  The train into London from Oxford was always awful, but Monday mornings seemed to be the worst, and the summer months were horrific: all those sweaty bodies in a confined space. Occasionally, she’d drive, but it was a stressful journey, so she didn’t do it often. The train was a marginally better option.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror when she stepped into the lift in the MyStyle offices. As always, her rich brown hair was held neatly in place at the back of her head with a clip. She pushed a stray strand off her face and ran her fingers under her eyes, checking her mascara hadn’t smudged. Quickly, she applied another coat of ruby blush lipstick and pressed her lips together just before the doors opened.

  The room was a hive of activity. Elizabeth felt the energy as she exited the lift. Even so early, phones were ringing and fingers tapped on keyboards. Elizabeth had always enjoyed the buzz of the place, and greeted people cheerfully as she walked through the main hub.

  When she reached her office, she found her boss waiting for her. Karen was an intimidating woman, and today her features were set in a look that said she meant business. As editor-in-chief, she ran the show, and did so fiercely. She was a fair and reasonable boss but not the sort of person that anyone wanted to cross.