Page 70 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

Lucy and George were being kind, she could see that. But she thought that she had a fair point. It was time for her to grow up a bit, to stop being eternally optimistic about everything. To stop dreaming so big.

Maybe if she were a little more realistic, Ash would come back and realize that they could build a relationship together, a proper grown-up one.

Or maybe Ash would realize that this was never going to work out. That the silly little baker next door wasn’t the woman she wanted to be with.

Pen couldn’t help but blink back a few tears as she made her way down onto the sand. She hadn’t expected her life to end up quite as empty as it currently felt. She was surrounded by people who loved her, yet she felt alone. The only person who could make her feel better was Ash, and Ash now had no ties at all to the place that Pen loved so much.

The place she’d thought they could be happy in.

Chapter Thirty

Ash puffed out her cheeks. “So, there’s nothing that you need me to sign or… anything?”

Snythe looked at her over his glasses. “Nothing, Ms. Wells. Your role in this little play is over, I’m afraid.” He sat back. “Once again, you have my deepest apologies. There really was no way we could have known.”

“I suppose not,” Ash said. By right she should be angry at having her life disrupted in this way, upended, something offered and then snatched away. She couldn’t quite bring herself to be more than mildly irritated though. She’d found Pen, and that had to count for something.

“We honestly did try everything, and you were by far the closest match that we found. I mean, there were enough small coincidences to tie you to the deceased that you really did seem like the best possible choice at the time.”

“What happens now then?” Ash asked.

Snythe sighed. “Well, we’ve found the woman. She’s in Australia and we’re arranging a power of attorney for her so she can deal with the inheritance from abroad. That’s really all I can tell you.”

“Right,” Ash said. She didn’t really know why she’d come, except that she’d wanted some kind of closure perhaps. Snythe had been polite, walking her through things, but he was right, she had no business here anymore. “Thank you then, I suppose.”

“Sometimes,” Snythe said, “I’m extremely happy that I don’t practice in a more litigious country, the United States, for example.” He gave her a toothy grin. “I don’t imagine you’ll be attempting to sue me.”

“Wasn’t thinking of it,” said Ash. She took pity on him, this really wasn’t his fault. She thought that in his shoes she’d probably have made the same kinds of decisions. After all, how was he supposed to know that the niece Mary bequeathed the shop to wasn’t actually a biological niece at all? “I won’t be making any kind of complaint either, so don’t fret.”

His grin widened. “In that case, I am in your debt. Should you need legal help in the future I hope that you’ll call on me.”

“I hope I won’t need to,” Ash said, getting up. “But thank you anyway.”

She walked out of the smart office and started her walk home. Her fingers itched to pick up the phone and call Pen, but she behaved herself. Pen had a business to run, she couldn’t be phoning all the time.

Honestly, she’d thought this would be easier. She’d thought that the distance would mean little. They had phones, WhatsApp, Facetime, plenty of ways to stay in touch. In fact, she messaged Pen far more often now than she had in Tetherington.

It just wasn’t the same though.

As much as Pen had annoyed her at the beginning with her constant visits and gifts of cake, she missed it now, she realized. She missed having her pop in during the day. And now that she was on the subject, she sort of missed having George around to make her cups of tea. And stroking Fabio’s belly. And, she thought, as she entered her flat building, she’d literally neverseen her postman in London. Presuming she had one and it wasn’t just a host of different people.

It was still the right decision though, she told herself. It really was. She liked Pen a lot. More than she’d ever liked anyone ever before. But living together so soon in such a small space was not the way to proceed.

If she’d have kept the shop, on the other hand, well, that would have been different. If the place had been hers and they could have kept working at things, she could have made a home there.

She sighed as she walked up the stairs, the lift was still broken. For such a long time, London had been enough. Her life had been enough. Work and walks and concerts. She’d managed to fill the hours quite nicely. Now she wondered how she’d ever done it.

It just seemed like there was too much time in the day.

And, as odd as it seemed, she missed talking to people.

She went into her empty flat and closed the door behind her to echoing silence and suddenly just couldn’t deal with it anymore.

Flinging open a cupboard in the kitchen she searched through the contents until she found a box of biscuits she’d bought the Christmas before. They’d been two for the price of one and she’d never opened the second box. Grabbing it, she went straight back out of the door and into the corridor.

Clutching the biscuit box in one hand, she knocked with the other.

“Yes?” Amanda said, opening the door. “Oh. It’s you.” She looked surprised.

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