A summer surprise at the.., p.1
A Summer Surprise at the Little Blue Boathouse,
p.1

A SUMMER SURPRISE AT THE LITTLE BLUE BOATHOUSE
CHRISTIE BARLOW
One More Chapter
a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2023
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Copyright © Christie Barlow 2023
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Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2023
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
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Christie Barlow asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
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Source ISBN: 9780008413194
Ebook Edition © April 2023 ISBN: 9780008413187
Version: 2023-01-31
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
Acknowledgments
Thank you for reading…
About the Author
Also by Christie Barlow
One More Chapter...
About the Publisher
For me.
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Now, a strong independent woman who will never settle for anything or anyone less than I deserve.
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This chapter in my life is now called my turn.
Chapter One
This had been the best idea Bea Fernsby had had in the last eight years.
She wasn’t known for taking chances but here she was following the mountainous roads up into the Scottish Highlands. According to the satnav she would reach her destination in approximately seven miles. It was the beginning of August and her whole world had come crashing down. The man she’d trusted her future to since the age of fifteen had let her down, again. Her memories had been shattered, her engagement was over and the future was scary.
Bea wasn’t a confident driver – the furthest she’d ever driven was to the nearest town – so she tried to concentrate as the roads became more winding. She shuffled her numb bum in the seat and took a quick glance at the spectacular view out of the window: wall-to-wall mountains under the wide cobalt sky, with a few scattered clouds. Her phone rang, causing her to jump, and when she looked at the flashing screen, she saw it was Emmie. She knew her sister would be worried about her so she picked up the call.
‘Where the hell are you?’
‘The Scottish Highlands,’ replied Bea.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. That’s miles away!’
‘I’m not being ridiculous. I actually am in the Scottish Highlands. I just needed to get away for a couple of weeks.’
‘Look, running away isn’t going to help the situation.’
Bea wanted to be anywhere that didn’t remind her of him. She carefully manoeuvred the next twist and turn. ‘I’m not running away. I’m taking time for me.’
‘Yes, he made a mistake, but he’s sorry and wants to put it right.’
Bea sighed heavily. ‘He’s cheated. Again. And this time he had the audacity to blame the death of his father for his lack of self-control. There’s nothing to work out.’ She really didn’t want to talk about this anymore or she’d arrive at the B&B close to tears.
There was a heavy silence.
Bea swallowed and hoped her voice didn’t falter. ‘As hard as it is – because it’s so easy to fall back into the same routine – I know my worth and what I deserve. I’m just thankful we didn’t get married or have children, otherwise this would be a right holy mess.’ All Bea had ever wanted was to settle down with the man of her dreams, have a family and live the fairy tale with the happy-ever-after. But she was beginning to think she wasn’t destined to find the one.
‘And anyway, this might be a good thing for me.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘It will give me time to breathe. I’ve always been good, dependable Bea. Always putting others first – and where has that got me? What exactly am I doing with my life? Unlike you, I don’t even have a decent job that inspires me to get out of bed in the morning.’ Although at times their relationship was strained, and Emmie’s way was always the right way, Bea admired her sister. Not only did she have a family but she was also a highly successful midwife. ‘I need to figure out what exactly my dream is. I want to make a difference in life and all I’ve been doing is standing still. It’s time for that to change.’
‘But you’re going to be by yourself.’
‘I’ll be fine. I’m wearing my big girl’s pants.’ Bea wanted to be by herself. She wanted to take time out where no one knew her or looked at her in that sympathetic way, knowing that she’d been cheated on, and she certainly didn’t want to have to talk about it. ‘Emmie, I need to concentrate. I’m literally driving on a single-lane mountain track and I need to follow the satnav.’
‘Okay, but you call me as soon as you get to… And where exactly are you staying?’
‘A village called Heartcross, and I promise I will.’
As Bea hung up the call, she looked down at her engagement ring and gripped the steering wheel. He was her past and all she could do now was concentrate on the future. She was more than mad at herself for letting him consume her thoughts for even a moment. She needed to think about herself now, not him. She snaked around the coastal path as the satnav led her through a town called Glensheil, which was joined with Heartcross by a bridge. Coming around a corner, Bea got her first glimpse of the River Heart, glistening in the sunlight. Taking a moment, she pulled into a small layby just next to the bridge and, with the engine still running, stepped out of the car and breathed in the fresh Scottish air. She looked down at her finger, pulled off her engagement ring and turned it over in her hand. Damn that man. Bea screamed ‘URGHH’ at the top of her voice, surprising a few passers-by, before hurling the ring into the river. Lowering her arm, she exhaled, smoothed down her top and climbed back into the car.
Feeling better, she began to drive over the bridge then bumped along a gravel track and noticed the sign saying, ‘Welcome to Heartcross’. She was so glad she’d stumbled across this village on social media. ‘Heartcross village is a tranquil place off the beaten track, surrounded by majestic mountains, heather-wreathed glens and beautiful waterfalls – a place untouched by time,’ she’d read.
She decided that the internet had described this place perfectly as she took in the magnificent view and slowed the car, coming to a stop at the bottom of Love Heart Lane, which Bea couldn’t help thinking was an ironic name, given she’d just well and truly had her heart broken.
The whitewashed terrace houses a little further up the narrow lane looked utterly gorgeous with their potted plants guarding the duck-egg-blue front doors with tumbling blooms full of colour. There was a sign for ‘Bonnie’s Teashop’ and Bea smiled at the comical-looking alpacas grazing in a field alongside. To cap it all, a majestic mountain stood tall at the top of the lane, backed by the beautiful blue sky. This was just what Bea needed – a change of scenery to change her life. She checked the piece of paper that was lying on the passenger seat, on which she’d scrawled the address for ‘Julia’s B&B’, and saw that, according to the satnav, it was only a few hundred yards off the main high street. With the hope of a shower and food in the next hour, Bea couldn’t wait to check in and start exploring the village. She began to drive on, still staring up at the mountain, when she heard the screech of tyres followed by the long beep of a horn.
Bea slammed her foot on the brake, her eyes darting over her shoulder. Time slowed and her seatbelt tightened as she watched a Union Jack-roofed Mini mount the kerb and plunge into the hedgerow. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her chest tighten. Her body trembled as she put the car into neutral, pulled on her handbrake and switched off the engine. Unclipping her seatbelt, she pushed open the car door.
‘Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,’ she shouted, tripping
over her own feet as she hurried towards the Mini. The driver’s side door opened and a woman stepped out of the car.
‘I’m really sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?’
‘Yes, though a little surprised,’ replied the woman.
Bea was taken in by her appearance. Her hands were wrapped in fingerless gloves, her wrists laced with bangles and her bony fingers stacked with silver rings. Draped around her shoulders was a black shawl and from her tiny waist hung a black skirt with gold crescent moons. Bea knew she was staring, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the woman standing in front of her.
‘I might be a psychic but I didn’t see this coming.’ She gave a little chuckle, much to Bea’s relief. The last thing she wanted was to anger anyone on her arrival.
‘But are you okay?’ Bea asked again. ‘How’s the car? Do we need to swap details? I’m Bea.’
‘Martha Gray,’ replied Martha, who was looking at the Mini. ‘I think we’re okay as there seems to be no damage.’
‘Thank God,’ replied Bea, still trying to calm her beating heart. ‘I’ve only just arrived in the village. What a way to make an entrance.’ Her voice wavered and she felt like she was about to burst into tears.
Martha’s face softened. ‘It’s okay, these things happen. As long as you’re fine too?’
‘This was meant to be the first day of the rest of my life, and now look.’
Martha narrowed her eyes. ‘Heartache or running away from trouble?’ Martha clearly wasn’t afraid to say what she thought. ‘In my experience – there’s been a lot of that – and at your age, it’s usually one of the two.’
‘I’m not in trouble, except maybe with you.’
‘So, it’s a man then.’ Martha reached inside her bra and pulled out a card, which she handed to Bea.
Bea looked down at the card, which read: ‘Mystic Martha the fortune teller’.
Martha pointed towards a sign wafting in the light breeze, which said “Foxglove Farm”. ‘You’ll find me up there, the vintage caravan. Five pounds to have your fortune told.’ Martha checked her watch. ‘I have somewhere I need to be. Where are you heading?’
‘Julia’s B&B.’
Martha pointed. ‘It’s just down that lane. Don’t give that man any more headspace. He was never good enough for you. Chalk and cheese. Any man who has had a fungal nail infection since the age of sixteen can’t look after himself, never mind a beautiful soul like yourself. Punching above his weight, I’d say.’ Martha tipped her a wink.
Bea’s mouth dropped open. ‘How would you even know that?’
‘You, my dear, have had a lucky escape and one day your ship will come in – and believe me, you won’t be making him wear socks in bed.’ Martha gave a small chortle. ‘And how long are you staying in Heartcross?’
‘Two weeks.’
Martha stared at Bea as though in deep concentration. When she spoke, her voice was low, causing the hairs on the back of Bea’s neck to stand up. ‘That’s what you think.’
Bea gave a nervous laugh. She’d never really believed in psychics but there was something mesmerising about Martha. Her gaze didn’t leave the older woman as she turned on her heels and climbed back into her car, leaving Bea spellbound by their first meeting. She stuffed the card she had been clutching into the back pocket of her jeans and watched the Mini slowly reverse out of the hedge. Martha nodded in acknowledgement as she drove past.
Bea was thankful that after her lack of concentration no one was hurt and there was no damage to either car. Despite the bad start to her arrival, the weather was glorious and Heartcross felt a good place to be. She wondered exactly what Martha meant by saying, ‘That’s what you think.’ Bea knew she couldn’t stay longer than two weeks – she had a job back home, and at some point would need to move her stuff out of the rented flat she shared with her ex. She didn’t relish the thought of that.
But in the meantime, despite everything, she was determined to enjoy her time in Heartcross and couldn’t wait to explore.
Chapter Two
Arriving at the B&B, Bea parked the car and grabbed her suitcase from the boot. She knew from the website that the elegant three-storey country-style house dated back to the mid-1800s. She was thankful she’d rung ahead to secure a room, as a ‘No Vacancies’ sign hung on the gate.
Inside, a woman behind the reception desk gave her a welcoming smile. ‘Good afternoon, I’m Julia, do you have a room booked?’
‘I do, Bea Fernsby,’ replied Bea. ‘And you must be the owner of this lovely property.’
‘Did the name give it away? “Julia’s B&B”,’ she replied, still smiling, whilst tapping on the computer in front of her. ‘And thank you, I do agree it’s lovely but I’m a tiny bit biased. That’s an accent from not around these parts.’
‘Staffordshire.’
‘Are you here for a holiday?’ asked Julia, opening up the key cupboard at the back of the reception area.
‘I think so,’ said Bea, thinking about Martha’s words then noticing the look of confusion on Julia’s face. ‘Mending a broken heart,’ she shared. ‘Assessing my life and wondering what the heck is next for me.’
‘We’ve all been there and you’ve certainly come to the right place. Heartcross is the best place to mend a broken heart.’
‘I’m hoping so, but I nearly didn’t make a good first impression.’
‘Why?’ asked Julia.
‘I’ve just had a tiny incident. I ran Mystic Martha off the road, but she’s okay.’
Julia’s eyes widened then she chuckled. ‘Well, she should have seen that coming!’
The door to the B&B swung open and Bea was greeted by a younger woman whose facial features resembled Martha’s. Unlike her, though, this woman was dressed in khaki overalls and wellies and there was a faint whiff of cow dung around her.
‘What’s my granny been up to now?’
‘This is Isla, grand-daughter to one psychic and dating guru,’ said Julia by way of introduction.
‘I’m Bea, arrived ten minutes ago, broken-hearted, and may just need a dating guru.’
‘Don’t go asking my granny, otherwise Tinderella you will become and you will go to the ball with every right swipe and your love life would be more of a mess than it is now.’
‘I’m not sure that is even possible.’ Bea grinned.
‘But as much as my grandmother is as mad as a box of frogs, her psychic powers are off the scale. Honestly, she knows what is happening in your life before you do!’
Julia laughed. ‘I can vouch for that. There are no secrets in Heartcross.’
‘Martha might be worth a visit. I need to find out what direction I’m heading.’
‘Third van on the right up at Foxglove Farm.’ Isla thrust her hand forward. ‘Isla, wife to Drew, mother to two, and owner of Foxglove Farm.’ She shook Bea’s hand. ‘And Martha is the reason I’m here.’
‘Tell me more,’ encouraged Julia, folding her arms on the counter and leaning forward, giving Isla her full attention.
‘Grandmother Martha is soon to be eighty years old.’
‘NO way!’ chorused Julia and Bea, causing Isla to laugh.
‘Yes way!’
‘I would never have said she was eighty, more mid-sixties,’ exclaimed Bea, genuinely surprised. ‘It must be the mountain air.’
‘More like Botox in three areas,’ replied Isla. ‘I kid you not.’





