Winter Kisses at Roseford Café Read online

  WINTER KISSES AT ROSEFORD CAFÉ

  FAY KEENAN

  For Cory.

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  More from Fay Keenan

  About the Author

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  ‘Mummy, Mummy!’ The shrill, excited voice of Lucy Cameron’s eight-year-old daughter, Megan, rang across the living room as she peered through the window that faced onto Roseford’s usually quiet main street.

  ‘Come on, darling,’ Lucy replied, frantically trying to tie her own hair back in a ponytail, pack Megan’s small school bag with her lunch and her reading book and scribble a shopping list. Megan got so easily distracted; even the sight of the chatty, combative group of sparrows who congregated regularly on the pavement outside the house was enough to put her off finding her shoes.

  ‘But come and see! There’s a massive lorry outside and it’s got Santa painted on it.’

  Lucy hurried to the window. ‘They can’t just stop there!’ she said in exasperation. ‘How’s anyone supposed to get past?’ How am I going to get out of my parking space? she thought. Since the houses in Roseford, the beautiful historic village where Lucy lived, were all listed buildings, very few residents had the luxury of off-road parking. In addition, being able to park outside your own house was becoming more of a rare privilege since the British Heritage Fund had taken over Roseford Hall, a charming seventeenth-century manor house just off the main square.

  Lucy glanced at her watch. If she was going to get Megan to school and then get back in time to open her café, she had to get a shift on. Since Roseford’s primary school had closed two years ago, Megan was at the one in the next village, and it was a good ten-minute drive away.

  ‘Come on, munchkin.’ Lucy assumed her best no-nonsense tone. ‘Get your coat from the hall. Your shoes should be there, too.’

  ‘They’re not, Mummy!’ Megan’s little voice came from the hallway.

  Lucy sighed. Systems were her survival mechanism, and even a minute’s disruption when time was tight could derail things. ‘Check in the cupboard under the stairs,’ she said wearily, wondering, for a moment, if in a tiredness-infused flash of inattention she’d shoved them in there with the vacuum cleaner.

  ‘Found them!’ Megan said. She came scampering back through from the hall, and plonked herself down on the rug by the fireplace to do up the Velcro fastenings on her black patent school shoes. As she stuck one foot out in front of her while she fastened the other one, Lucy noticed there was a hole forming on the sole. Great. Megan went through shoes like no other child in her class. It looked like she’d need a trip to Taunton over the Christmas holidays for a new pair. Hopefully, the shoes would hold out for the last few weeks of the autumn term.

  Just as they were zipping up their coats and heading out of the door, Lucy’s phone pinged with a message. Glancing down at the screen as she pulled the door closed, Lucy saw it was from her friend Serena.

  So… have you seen them yet? Tell me EVERYTHING when you do!

  Lucy, despite her school run stress, smiled. Serena was a huge fan of, as she put it, ‘cheesy happily-ever-after movies’, and had been incandescent with excitement when the story had broken online about Roseford’s new temporary residents. Lucy, despite her own history, and knowing that happily-ever-after wasn’t exactly the way most things in life went, wasn’t averse to a festive movie or three herself, and she and Serena had spent many happy evenings with Megan between them on the sofa watching the latest Hallmark Channel offerings on cold winter nights.

  Lucy looked at the time and picked up the pace. She hated being late and was embarrassed at the thought of Megan having to go into her classroom after everyone else. Striding over to her car, she settled Megan into her car seat and then glanced out at the road. The lorry that Megan had spotted out of the window was still in situ, taking up most of the road.

  Roseford boasted a picturesque village square, but unfortunately, with history came inconvenience. The road was narrow, barely wide enough to fit two modern cars through in places until it opened up into the square. There was no way she was going to be able to get out of her parking space and past the lorry.

  Sighing in irritation, she walked round her car and out into the road, where the lorry had stopped. Heading towards its cab, she saw that the driver was on his phone. Pointedly, seeing him catch sight of her, she glanced at her watch. He gave a quick nod, finished his conversation and then wound down the window.

  ‘Can I help you?’ he asked.

  Lucy gave a quick, encouraging smile. ‘Can you move the lorry, please? I’ve got to get my daughter to school, and I can’t get out of my parking space.’

  ‘Sorry, love,’ the driver responded. ‘I need to get clearance before I can go anywhere. Shouldn’t be long, though.’

  ‘Can’t you just pull forward a few feet?’ Lucy persisted. ‘I really do need to get my daughter to school.’

  The driver looked in front of him, and it was then that Lucy realised that he was just one of a convoy of vans, lorries and other assorted vehicles who were forming a queue, snaking back from the turning to Roseford Hall and right past her house.

  ‘The gates are still locked,’ the driver continued. ‘Sorry, though. Wish I could help.’

  ‘Isn’t there someone you could call?’ Lucy’s patience was starting to wear even thinner. ‘I really do need to get out.’

  ‘I’ve just been on the phone,’ the driver said, his own tone exasperated. ‘They’re trying to locate the groundskeeper to get the gates open. I’m afraid I can’t really do any more than that, love. I’ve been on the road since four o’clock this morning, so I’m just as keen to get moving as you are.’

  Trying not to bristle at the unasked-for ‘endearment’, Lucy forced another smile. ‘Fair enough.’ She turned away, and as she did so, the deep rumble of the engines of the lorries in front sent a smell of diesel through the air.

  ‘Looks like the gates are open,’ the driver called to Lucy’s retreating back. She raised a hand in acknowledgement, and then glanced at her watch. She had five minutes before the school gates closed and she’d have to send Megan in through the school’s reception. Knowing that it would probably take just as long for the convoy to move off the main road, she gave a sigh of resignation, opened her car door and got in.

  ‘Are we going now, Mummy?’ Megan asked.

&nbs
p; ‘Any minute now, sweetheart,’ Lucy replied, clenching her hands on the steering wheel. She’d never been that good at responding to circumstances beyond her control, and knowing that there was nothing else she could do but wait was little comfort.

  Why did this bloody film crew have to descend on Roseford anyway? Until a couple of years ago, no one had heard of the place. There’d been a few big UK drama productions that had ‘borrowed’ the High Street for exterior shots over the years, but nothing like this. Those crews had been so small that they’d stayed in rooms above the local pub, the Treloar Arms, and, despite the inevitable set dressing and inconvenience, they’d tried their best not to disrupt the lives of the residents of the village.

  This production, though, was something else entirely. It was guaranteed to turn everyone’s lives upside down. And having her life turned upside down was absolutely the last thing Lucy needed, having only just started to feel as though she was back in control.

  Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, brought back out of her brooding, when she saw the lorry start to move. She slapped on her indicator and pulled out between that and the next truck behind it, and began the slow crawl round the bend and up the High Street towards the main road, and Megan’s school in the next village. If this first morning was anything to go by, having even more strangers in Roseford was going to be a real challenge.

  2

  ‘So? Have you seen him yet?’

  Serena’s voice cut into Lucy’s thoughts as she tried to focus on the mid-morning orders that were rapidly filling the tables in Roseford Café. Although Roseford Hall was closed to the public from November to January, plenty of people still liked to come to the village and wander around the historic square, and this, more often than not, was good news for the café. Lucy had bought the café and the adjoining house, with a little help from her mother, three years ago when Megan had started school. There was also a regular trickle of customers who came for the winter writers’ and artists’ retreats at Halstead House, at the other end of Roseford. Halstead House had opened its doors the year after Roseford Hall and so far had been busy all year, according to Stella Simpson, who co-ran the retreats with her partner, Chris Charlton. So, even though the winter months could be leaner than the summer, Lucy still made enough to keep the café afloat. The local book club took a table every month on a Saturday afternoon, and she had a good group of village regulars who liked to come in and exchange news and gossip over a slice of cake and a latte.

  ‘Who?’ Lucy asked, double-checking the trays of sandwiches, warming vegetable soup and drinks she’d put together. The café specialised in light meals, hearty soups and mouth-watering cakes, making it the perfect stopgap when you were exploring Roseford and its history. If people wanted a bigger lunch, they could always go to the local pub, the Treloar Arms, a few doors down. It also meant that she could do a lot of preparation in advance, which cut down on her stress considerably.

  ‘Oh, don’t be dense,’ Serena replied. ‘Him. The teen idol. The bloke from High School Dreams that you had the most thumping crush on all through your GCSEs and A Levels. The swoonsome guy who probably made you a little more susceptible to you-know-who than you should have been!’

  ‘No.’ Lucy flipped her order pad shut briskly. ‘I haven’t. Why? Should I have done?’

  ‘What? You mean you don’t know?’ Serena’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Look, I know your life mostly revolves around getting Megan to school and cutting the perfect sandwich triangles these days, but even you, with your determination to stay off social media, must know that Finn Sanderson is the lead in this cheesy Christmas movie they’re shooting at Roseford Hall.’

  Lucy’s heart gave a huge thump and she nearly dropped the tray she’d picked up. ‘What?’

  Serena laughed and assumed a mock-American accent. ‘I kid you not. Finn Sanderson, erstwhile teen idol and washed-up singing sensation, is looking to revitalise his career by starring in FilmFlix’s new romantic movie, A Countess for Christmas, shooting in the picturesque English village of Roseford this winter.’

  ‘Aren’t Christmas movies usually all filmed in the summer?’ Lucy said, looking for reasons as to why what Serena was saying couldn’t possibly be true. ‘I mean, they’re all snow machines and cosy sweaters when it’s twenty-five degrees outside, aren’t they?’

  ‘Well, ordinarily, yes,’ admitted Serena. ‘But for whatever reason, and don’t ask me why, this one’s shooting now, for release next year.’ She shrugged. ‘But anyway, Finn Sanderson’s coming here, to our very own Roseford. How cool is that?’

  ‘It would be cool if I was still a teenager,’ Lucy said. ‘But since the cast are very unlikely to have anything to do with us plebs in the village, what difference does it make?’

  Despite her nonchalant tone, Lucy’s heart rate still hadn’t returned to normal. ‘He’s probably being put up at some five-star hotel miles from here anyway. Getting brought in by a stretch limo thirty feet long. We won’t see him.’

  ‘Well, we won’t with an attitude like that!’ Serena said. She regarded her friend shrewdly. ‘You can’t say you’re not a tiny bit excited? It’s the first big film role he’s had since High School Dreams ended. And…’ She trailed off tantalisingly.

  ‘And what?’ Lucy picked up the tray again.

  ‘It’s the first time Finn Sanderson and Montana de Santo have acted onscreen together since the show ended! Imagine! They’ve got a romantic Christmas movie to rekindle all of that chemistry that we both swooned over when we were younger. FinnTana in the flesh! Now tell me you’re not interested.’

  Lucy laughed at the reminder of the smashed name for the romantic pairing of Finn Sanderson and Montana de Santo that was the shorthand way to refer to them at the height of their fame. ‘All right, all right. If I admit I’m a little bit, er, intrigued, will you let me get on and serve Mr and Mrs Robertson their elevenses?’ She walked past Serena and out into the main area of the café.

  ‘You’re not getting off that easily,’ Serena called after her. ‘I bet you’ll have binoculars trained on the Hall every chance you get. After all, from your back garden you can virtually see in through the front door!’

  ‘I’ll leave that to you,’ Lucy replied. ‘Text me later if you want to come over this evening for a glass of wine in front of Bridgerton.’

  ‘Sounds good, unless I get a better offer,’ Serena replied. ‘But I doubt Charlie’s got any plans to take me anywhere more exotic than the pub.’

  ‘Same old Charlie, then.’ Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know why you put up with it.’

  ‘It’s not like there are many other marketable options,’ Serena replied. ‘Although, now the film crew’s moved in, perhaps I’ll find myself a gorgeous movie star to warm my nights, and my bed!’

  ‘I’m quite happy with a hot water bottle warming my bed,’ Lucy laughed. ‘But you go for it. I can live vicariously through you.’

  Serena sighed. ‘One day, you’re going to realise that there’s more to life than serving scones to tourists and avoiding the school run mothers. I hope I’m still alive to see it!’

  ‘I’m quite happy with things the way they are, thank you,’ Lucy said primly, carefully placing a pot of tea and a couple of the aforementioned scones on a plate on the next tray. But as Serena sauntered out of the café and back to her temporary office at her mum’s house a couple of roads away, Lucy couldn’t help the frisson of excitement that shot through her at the thought of Finn Sanderson being in the same village as her. Surely, even though she was a respectable, mature, sensible grown-up, she was allowed a little moment to relive her schoolgirl fantasies? Maybe even a few more moments to scroll through Twitter to relive the best ‘FinnTana’ moments from yesteryear? Then, shushing those thoughts, she busied herself with the next orders. After all, a real heart-throb Hollywood star was hardly likely to drop his standards far enough to visit a quiet little café like this, even if he was filming a hundred yards away, was he?

  3


  The lunchtime rush was just revving up when Lucy glanced up from cleaning the table by the window that looked out onto the main street to see a harassed-looking woman walking in through the front door of the café. She had an earpiece dangling on a wire on her shoulder, and was talking animatedly into a mobile, chattering in a language that Lucy vaguely understood to be English, but littered with a whole manner of technical terms that seemed like they belonged in another world.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Get the dolly set up on the tracks and then make sure it’s in position ready to do the first cover shots of the house after lunch.’

  She approached the counter, and Lucy hurried to see what it was she wanted.

  ‘Hi,’ she said brightly as the woman glanced at her. ‘What can I get you?’

  The woman gestured impatiently to the phone, and Lucy, slightly put out, waited for her to finish her conversation. She scanned the café for any customers who needed her immediate attention, but they all seemed perfectly content.

  Eventually, after a minute or two, the woman ended her call.

  ‘So, there’s been a bit of a cock-up at Roseford Hall,’ she said, without preamble. ‘I’ve got a skeleton crew with more due later this afternoon, not to mention the talent, and nothing to feed them. Can you help?’