Contents

  About the Author

  Praise for Nicola May

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Epilogue

  Rainbows End in Ferry Lane Market Extract

  About the Author

  Nicola May writes ‘chick lit with a kick’ and is the internationally bestselling author of twelve romantic comedies. All have appeared in the Kindle bestseller charts. The Corner Shop in Cockleberry Bay became the best-selling Kindle book in the UK across all genres in January 2019 and March 2020 respectively. It was also the second best-selling eBook of 2019 in the UK. Nicola’s books have also been sold in many languages.

  Praise for Nicola May

  ‘Joyful escapism … A warm, wonderful and witty treat!’

  Milly Johnson

  ‘Spirited, adventurous and full of heart!’

  Heidi Swain

  ‘Full of heart, hope, friendship, family and laughter, and a plot with a mystery gagging to be solved … I absolutely adored it’

  Kim Nash

  ‘Full of sparkle and wit’

  Woman’s Own

  ‘Emotional, heartwarming and great fun!’

  Julie Houston

  ‘A page-turning story full of love, family, and humour’

  Katie Ginger

  ‘I now want to go and live in Ferry Lane Market! This book held me captive’

  Sue Moorcroft

  ‘Warm and wonderful. I fell in love with Ferry Lane Market and didn’t want to leave’

  Alex Brown

  ‘Brings the sights, sounds and characters of Cornwall to life … Sweeter than a 99 ice cream’

  Mandy Baggot

  STARRY SKIES IN FERRY LANE MARKET

  Nicola May

  www.hodder.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Hodder & Stoughton

  An Hachette UK company

  Copyright © May Books Ltd 2021

  The right of Nicola May to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  eBook ISBN 978 1 529 34649 7

  Paperback ISBN 978 1 529 34648 0

  Hodder & Stoughton Ltd

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.hodder.co.uk

  For Georgia, Trinny, Jake & Amy

  ‘If you do not love too much, you do not love enough.’

  Blaise Pascal

  PROLOGUE

  ‘I’ve told you before, Mum,’ Star Bligh said irritably. ‘I don’t want you doing this if you’re stoned.’

  Ignoring her daughter, the woman with braided grey hair carried on laying out the well-worn Tarot cards.

  ‘I can see a man,’ Estelle Bligh said slowly. ‘In fact, I can see two.’ Her long, slim fingers began to circle the crystal ball in front of her.

  ‘Huh. Isn’t that just your wishful thinking?’ Reverting to her sulky five-year-old self, Star began to twirl a strand of her long blonde hair around her finger.

  ‘Shhh,’ her mother hissed, then went on. ‘Choose wisely, for one of them may break your heart …’ a dramatic pause ensued ‘… and the other may shake it to the core.’ Her Cornish accent trailed off in an ominous whisper.

  ‘I don’t suppose you saw Skye in your crystal ball, did you?’ Star asked. ‘I mean, that was the reason for my coming up here this early – thinking that my wayward daughter might have sought solace here with her even more wayward grandmother.’

  Estelle tutted. ‘She’s a big girl now, Steren. You really do need to let her go.’

  ‘Let her go? She’s only seventeen, Mum.’

  ‘And at that age, you were a single mother with a one-year-old, already out working all hours at Sibley’s.’

  Star looked up at the metal clock in the shape of a black cat that was hanging on the wall. ‘Noo, is that the time?’ She shimmied sideways out of the bench seat in her mother’s kitchen and went to fetch her coat and hat. ‘I need to get back to the market,’ she said, and shivered. ‘It’s bloody freezing in here. How do you stand it?’

  ‘Oh, to me it brings back lovely memories of all three of us cuddling up under a blanket when our Skye was a baby.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Those happy days when we had no money to mention, and you still convinced me that having a baby when I was in my last year at school was the right thing to do.’ Star couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  ‘That’s not fair.’ Estelle looked pained. ‘Do you regret it now?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Star snapped. ‘I just don’t want to see Skye following in my footsteps. She needs to have a life before she even thinks of starting a family.’

  ‘You’re a great mother to her, love. A much better mum than I ever was to you.’ Estelle gave a sigh.

  Star looked up at the ceiling to suppress her tears. ‘Anyway, don’t you want to be moving to a proper house, now that you’re getting older?’

  ‘And leave this perfect little commune – are you mad? As for the temperature, I’ve got proper electric heater things now. Haven’t sussed out how to work the timers on them, that’s all.’

  Star looked out across the amazing clifftop view to see the horizon cutting the early October sky and steel-grey sea perfectly in two. Seabirds on the wing, ready to dive down and catch their fishy breakfast, squawked in anticipation. There was no denying that the Hartmouth Head residential static home park was set in an incredible location. And despite having been subject to ‘trailer trash’ taunts from some of the kids in her schooldays, Star thought that being brought up in such a close-knit community, and against such a stunning backdrop, had had its advantages.

  ‘Can’t your new boyfriend do it?’ she asked now, grateful for Skye’s regular updates on her grandmother’s unpredictable love life.

  ‘Sort the heaters, you mean?’ Estelle raised her eyebrows meaningfully, then laughed. ‘Harley’s about as useful on the DIY front as a chocolate teapot.’

  ‘Maybe if you dated someone who wasn’t just out of college …’

  ‘For your information, he’s thirty-two.’

  ‘Oh, just the thirty-year age gap this time, then.’

  ‘You’re just jealous. When’s the last time you had any fun, eh, my girl?’ Opening the door to her static home, painted a dark green that reflected her pagan love of nature, Estelle picked up and lit the half-smoked joint that was resting in an ashtray on the steps of the decking area. Then, after taking a large drag on the fragrant tobacco, she said, ‘I named you Steren because it means Star. Now that your daughter is grown and can stand on her own two feet, don’t you think it’s time for you to start shining?’

  Chapter 1

  ‘Try this.’ Big Frank Brady placed a small sugar-dusted pie in front of the woman who was sitting on a high stool across the cafe counter from him.

  The clattering of cutlery as a couple finished off a huge fried breakfast and the shrieking of a toddler having a tantrum in the corner were only slightly drowned out by Audrey Hepburn singing ‘Moon River’.

  ‘She’s
singing your song, Kara Moon,’ Frank teased the pretty redhead. Then the towering, dark-haired Irishman, who had owned and run Frank’s Café on the Hartmouth Estuary seafront for the past eleven years, went over and twiddled with his beloved jukebox in the corner.

  ‘So,’ he said, coming back to the counter, ‘what do you think of the mince pie? I’m testing it out ready for the Christmas trade.’

  Licking her lips, Kara took a big bite into the succulent-looking pastry. She began chewing, then shuddered and made an ugly face. ‘Ew! That taste, it’s so bitter.’ She reached for the water bottle in her bag and washed down the alien-tasting filling fast. ‘What the hell have you put in there?’

  ‘Thought I would try an age-old, revered mince pie recipe. You are my guinea pig.’

  ‘It’s only just October,’ Kara objected in her faint Cornish accent.

  ‘You know me – I like to be ahead of the game. I found it in a drawer at my old mammy’s place after she died, God bless her, and then came across it by chance yesterday in the back kitchen. It had mice teeth-marks all around the edge.’

  ‘What – the mince pie or the recipe sheet?’ Frank laughed his deep throaty laugh as Kara continued, with a huge grin. ‘Or maybe you just put a dead mouse in it?’

  ‘No, just a slosh of Guinness, as well as the usual brandy.’ He took a bite himself, then gagged. ‘Jesus! Me old dear must have been on the black stuff herself when she made these, so she must.’ They both laughed. ‘My Monique already said to just get some of the home-made mincemeat from Alicia in The Sweet Spot. I think she’s right; it’ll be a lot easier.’

  ‘Your Monique is always right,’ Kara said, ‘and sensible too. I’d follow her advice if you want to keep any of your customers.’ She swallowed a bit more water before exclaiming, ‘Shit! I need to get going. I’ve been waiting on an extra delivery of gypsophila and it should be arriving soon.’

  ‘How’s it going up there at the market now that you’re Miss Passion Flowers herself?’

  ‘Really good, thanks,’ Kara said happily. ‘I’m so lucky to be working at something I love, and now that the business belongs to me, I cannot tell you how good it is not being ordered around by Lydia Twist. Old Twisty Knickers was a horrible boss.’

  ‘Living the dream, young Kara. And you deserve it, you really do.’

  Kara glanced through the cafe window and saw the Happy Hart car ferry heading across from Crowsbridge to the Hartmouth quay.

  ‘Talking of things I love, I’d better take Dad and my Billy a coffee whilst they load on the cars,’ she said. ‘It’s cold work on that crossing this time of year.’

  Frank placed four takeaway cups in front of her in a holder. ‘So, that’s you, your dad, your fella and Skye sorted. I think I’ve got the milk and sugars right.’

  ‘Brilliant, thanks.’ Kara paid and made her way to the door. Frank ran around the counter to hold it open for her.

  ‘Feck it!’ the big man said suddenly.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘There’s me going on about them mince pies and forgetting I needed to talk to you about something important.’

  ‘That’s OK. Let me quickly message Skye and ask her to open the shop up a bit earlier. She can take the order in then.’

  While Kara did that, Frank served two new customers with coffee, then came to sit down opposite her in one of the American diner-style booths. Checking her phone, Kara was relieved to see a thumbs-up emoji from her apprentice.

  ‘It’s about my brother’s boy, Conor,’ Big Frank revealed. ‘To cut a long story short, he needs somewhere to stay for a little while and I wondered if he could rent your flat – the one above the flower shop, I mean. It is still empty, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is he in trouble?’ Kara asked instinctively, knowing full well what a colourful family Frank heralded from. In fact, Monique moving him down to the south-west of England had probably saved the big Irishman from a life of crime. Selling hooky booze in the guise of a ‘blackcurrant cordial’ or ‘special iced tea’ was his only vice these days.

  Not even flinching at her comment, Frank replied, ‘He’s not now.’ Then he put his huge hand on top of Kara’s pale freckly one and added, ‘And you know I would never put you in a difficult position. He’s a good lad, I promise you.’

  Kara trusted Frank like family. ‘The flat is empty, yes. I use it more as a stockroom and hadn’t even thought about renting it out, to be honest. But why’s he not staying at yours?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s a youngster, like you – he’d be bored stiff living way up on the moor with me and Monique. Let me know how much you want, and I’ll pay you three months upfront. Cash, of course.’

  Kara thought about it. ‘It’s not very plush and I’ve only got a sofa up there at the moment, so we’ll need to get a bed … and it needs a good clean throughout.’

  Frank patted her arm. ‘Just tell me what you need, little lady, and I’ll get it sorted.’

  ‘OK, if you’re sure. Any idea when he wants it from?’

  ‘Yesterday.’ Frank grinned his lopsided grin. ‘You know us Brady boys, we don’t mess around.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, let me get you some fresh coffees. These will be cold.’

  Kara took a sip of hers. ‘They’re still OK. Don’t worry.’

  ‘Grand, grand. Right, I’ve got to get everything ready for my end-of-summer-season party on the quay.’

  ‘Will there be fireworks again?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘You’re so good, doing that every year.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the Pearly Gates though, as I do have an ulterior motive. True, it’s a thank you to the locals for coming here throughout the summer, but it’s also a PR ploy to remind everyone that I’m still here all winter long.’

  ‘That’s allowed and we’d all come anyway. Right, I really must go.’

  ‘I’ll catch up with you later re the logistics of the flat. And thanks a million, Kara.’

  As Star drove to the end of Ferry Lane, she noticed Kara about to hotfoot it up the hill towards the market. Tooting loudly right behind her, she stopped and beckoned her friend over to her Smart car. ‘Get in,’ she called. ‘I’ll take you.’

  ‘You scared the life out of me,’ Kara told her, climbing in carefully so as not to spill the coffees she was holding. ‘What are you up to, tearing around this early, anyway?’

  ‘Skye didn’t come home last night. I know she’s officially a grown-up now, Kar, but I wish she’d had the decency to let me know where she was. I didn’t sleep a bloody wink.’

  ‘Oh, love. Well, she’s at the shop now. She’s just messaged me. Is this the first time she’s done this – stayed out all night, I mean?’

  ‘Yes, but—fuck!’ Star braked suddenly as a stray melon toppled from a box that Charlie Dillon was carrying and hurtled their way. It was only thanks to her quick reflexes that it avoided being crushed under her wheel.

  Kara jolted forwards, causing hot coffee to spill out of the cups she was clutching and onto her jeans. ‘Bloody hell, mate. Be careful!’

  ‘Don’t you be having a go at me too.’ Star suppressed a sob as she pulled up outside the florist’s.

  Oblivious to all this, Charlie Dillon bent to retrieve the runaway fruit and stuck it up his jumper, along with another one. ‘Don’t get many of these to the pound,’ he said in a falsetto voice, mincing around, and then catching sight of an old lady looking, he quickly put them back in the box.

  ‘Oh, Star, I’m so not having a go. I’ve got to do an early hotel drop, so how about we meet for lunch at Tasty Pasties, and you can tell me what’s really the matter. Say twelve thirty, all right?’

  ‘You know me so well.’ Star smiled weakly.

  ‘What is it they say? Sister from another mister, or something like that.’ Kara put one of the coffees in the car’s drinks holder and got out. ‘Get that in you,’ she said. ‘I’ve already had a sip and there’s sugar in it, but it’s wet and warm.’ Then waving goodbye, she turned and made her way through the glass-fronted door to her personal domain: the beautiful and sweet-smelling florist’s called Passion Flowers.

  Chapter 2

  Star yawned as she made her way inside STAR Crystals & Jewellery, the market unit she had rented and run in Ferry Lane Market for the past six years. Gagging at the sweetened coffee, she then cranked up the heating. She hated the winter, mainly because it reminded her of those freezing days living in the static home with her mother and a young baby. The memories of all three of them cuddling up together under a blanket were not quite as romantic as the version her mother had fondly recalled. Probably because Estelle Bligh had been warmed through with brandy or cannabis at the time, Star thought grimly. The experience had done one thing: made her determined that, as soon as she could afford a place of her own, she and her beloved only child Skye would never be cold again.