1

‘Get down, Trixie.’ Nicola Fields swooshed her tortoiseshell cat from the work surface and smiled as she wound her body around her legs. ‘You don’t even realise you shouldn’t be jumping up there, do you?’

The cat purred as she looked up at her owner.

‘Umm, or else you do and you’re just aware you’ve got me wrapped around your little toe and that you can get away with anything.’

Trixie lifted her paw, placing it on Nicola’s foot.

Laughing, Nicola flicked the kettle on before reaching for the cat treats – a small packet of tuna-flavoured biscuits she kept in the cupboard beneath the sink. ‘Okay, okay. Here, have one of these.’

With Trixie content, Nicola picked up a slice of her toast, sinking her teeth into the warm, buttery goodness as she glanced at the kitchen clock: 7.30. She had fifteen minutes until she needed to leave for Pennycress Inn for work.

She opened her email app on her mobile and began scrolling through the spam emails offering her fifty per cent off an aviation magazine subscription or the chance to win something equally useful to her. Laura, the owner of Pennycress Inn and her boss, had promised to send her the contact information for a local cake baker so Nicola could book her for her mum’s birthday.

Bingo! There it was.

Just as she was about to open Laura’s email, the one below caught her eye. The formality of the subject line standing out like a sore thumb from the spammy competitions and offers she really should get round to blocking.

She took another bite of her toast as she tapped her screen to open it. Oh no. Letting the toast fall from her mouth, she didn’t even notice it drop to the kitchen floor, typically butter-side down, as she read the email – a reminder of the impending new pizza oven she’d pre-ordered for Nathan’s birthday.

The familiar feeling of dread, sorrow and relief churned in her stomach. The feeling she’d been living with and suppressing daily for the last five months since she’d walked in on her then-partner, Nathan, wining and dining their work colleague, Kerry, in their home. Her and Nathan’s home.

Her eyes were automatically drawn to the kitchen table, pushed up against the far end of the small galley kitchen. She sighed. What did she expect to see? The two cheating scumbags still sitting, laughing at the table, hands held between the candlesticks and the small vase of flowers between their plates?

He’d never done any of that for her. His idea of preparing a meal for them had involved a quick trip to McDonald’s to pick up a Big Mac and a side of fries. That’s what had stung the most, the intimacy she’d witnessed between the two of them. He was supposed to be in her corner. He was supposed tohaveher back, notgo behindher back.

And for two years too! He’d led a double life, living with her and then seeing Kerry on the side for two whole years.

She forced herself to look away from the table and instead watched Trixie as she licked the butter from the kitchen floor. How had she not noticed? The fact neither Nathan nor Kerry had spent much time in the office should surely have been a sign. Plus, Kerry had accompanied him on all his work trips, but because Kerry was his secretary, Nicola hadn’t batted an eyelid. She’d been too trusting, too naïve, too stupid.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she supposed to do with a damn pizza oven now? He probably wouldn’t have used it, anyway. He’d been banging on about it for months, ever since he’d seen it on one of those Sunday morning kitchen shows, but whether he’d have actually used it… Well, that was a different story.

Nicola watched as Trixie jumped back on the work surface, heading straight towards the food recycling caddy, and smiled. ‘You’re right, Trixie. We don’t need him, and we certainly don’t need that stupid thing. I’ll cancel it.’

Trixie meowed as she pawed the lid of the caddy.

‘Are you still hungry?’ Nicola glanced again at the clock on the wall. She’d be late if she didn’t get a wriggle on now. ‘Right, I’ve got just about enough time to get you some biscuits before I need to run.’

And running she’d be doing. Jill was bringing the village community hub to the inn for their monthly meeting and Nicola had a list as long as her arm to get done before preparing for their welcome.

* * *

Pushing the door to the inn closed behind her, Nicola watched as the sun caught the stained-glass window, causing a rainbow of light to appear on the recently polished oak floorboards in the hallway. Growing up, her mum, who had previously run Pennycress Inn, had always told her seeing a rainbow from the stained-glass was a sign of good luck for the day ahead. Nicola grimaced. She wasn’t quite sure that email reminding her about all she’d lost with Nathan had been good luck, but maybe her luck for the day would change now.

‘Nic, is that you?’ Laura’s voice called from the kitchen to the right.

‘Morning! Yes, it’s me. Sorry I’m late.’ Walking across to the reception desk, Nicola stashed her handbag beneath the counter before turning to the computer.

‘No worries. I don’t even have a clue what the time is, but could you come here and give me a quick hand, please?’

‘Sure. Coming.’ Leaving the computer, Nicola followed the sound of Laura’s voice through to the kitchen and the utility room beyond before coming to a stop in the doorway. Trying to stifle a laugh, she took in the sight before her. The washing machine door was open, half its contents spewed out into a laundry basket sitting in front of it, and Laura was perched on top of the machine, her legs pulled up uncomfortably beneath her. ‘What on earth…?’

‘I’m like ninety-nine-point nine per cent sure I saw a mouse,’ Laura squealed, her face contorted into an expression of horror. ‘I can’t have a mouse in the inn! What if our guests see it? Plus, it’ll be a health and safety nightmare! We’ll have to stop serving breakfast…’

Stepping forward, a smile tugged at the corners of Nicola’s lips. ‘It’s a good job you’ve not got a cat. I was woken up only the other day to a poor field mouse scampering around the living room.’

‘A field mouse?’ Laura shifted a little on top of the washing machine, careful not to let her legs dangle too close to the floor.