The Little Clock House on the Green: A heartwarming cosy romance perfect for summer

A wistful expression crossed her cousin’s face, causing Kate to regret her words. Juliet was definitely the get-married-first-and-then-have-babies type, so talking about her being a mum when she wasn’t even dating wasn’t very helpful. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek because sometimes it felt like she wasn’t very good at being kind – Bea had always been the kind one. After she’d died Kate had often consciously mirrored Bea’s personality so that she could feel kind in letting her mum get away with ignoring her. But now that time had passed she knew she’d simply been taking the easy way out. Four years of focusing solely on getting herself through the days had made her too inward-facing. She was going to have to work on that.

‘How about,’ Juliet said, ‘before attempting the Super Mum thing, both of us concentrate on attempting the “highly successful, running our own businesses” thing, yes?’

‘Yes,’ Kate answered, unable to stop the thought of how much Bea would have excelled at combining career with being a mum. Sudden grief rose up to take a healthy chunk out of her.

Juliet glanced at the clock. ‘If you leave now you’ll be perfectly on time.’

‘Good. That’s good,’ she said, struggling past the sorrow. ‘Especially as I’m visiting a retired clock-maker.’

‘Exactly. You look lovely, by the way.’

Kate twirled a little. ‘It feels weird wearing clothes that come past my knees, but I feel gorgeous in it, so thank you.’ She hadn’t realised how much she’d got used to casual beach attire or the comfy pashmina and cashmere t-shirt coupled with stretchy leggings that she’d learned worked best on long plane journeys.

‘You can totally do this,’ Juliet told her with a warm smile.

‘Uh-huh. Totes,’ Kate whispered.

‘Now say it like you mean it.’

‘I can totally do this,’ she said, putting everything into it so as to take some of the nerves out of Juliet’s eyes too. ‘I’m not coming back without my offer being accepted.’

‘Atta girl.’

Kate picked up the presentation that she and Juliet had worked on all night. It contained a proper business plan for opening and running a day spa along with her projections for how she would grow the business over the first two years.

Her brain still hurt from all the statistics she’d amassed, but now she had a plan she knew could work. It had amazed her to discover how little she’d been put off when examining the pitfalls. If anything, it had reinforced how much she wanted to do this.

And that was all down to Juliet and her own dream and her insights with the postcards.

‘I’m going now, then.’

‘I rang Mum this morning and told her to take all my clients for the day, so I’ll be right here waiting for you when you finish.’

‘Okay,’ she said, picking up the basket and walking towards the front door.

‘Break a leg.’

‘Distinct possibility in these shoes,’ Kate murmured and with a wave she headed down the lane towards the cut-through.

As she entered the woods she shivered and hugged the basket to her as if the delicate scent of the tea roses and the artificial sweetness from the cake could warm her as well as comfort her. She picked up her pace, wishing she’d thought to add a cardy or a cape. A giggle escaped. A cape? Really? Must be the woods and the wicker basket that had her going all Little Red Riding Hood.

Right on cue a bird burst into song.

Had to be an omen, right?

She chose to think of it as a good one.

Birdsong, baskets and business plans.

She had this.

Besides, she’d always got on really well with Old Man Isaac. Wily, wise and interesting, she liked to think of him as a person who everyone always found time for because he always made time for them. She knew he’d pay her the service of listening attentively to her today, so she wanted to repay him by presenting her idea well.

Emerging from the cut-through she crossed the green to walk up to the entrance of Rosehip Cottage. One quick flick of her hair over her shoulder, one last yogic breathing exercise that was supposed to help calm the nerves jangling around in her stomach but unfortunately only served to remind her how tight the dress was on her, and she was giving the letterbox a rat-a-tat-tat.

It felt like an eternity before he answered the door and she tried to reassure herself that was only because when you were waiting to secure your future, every moment felt like an hour.

Finally the door opened and there he was. A short, balding man with thick-rimmed glasses, a cream shirt, fawn-coloured trousers, a walking stick, and, her favourite part, a whimsical dickie-bow.

For some reason she found a lump forming in her throat.

Her thoughts scrambled as the lump grew larger. She couldn’t afford to fall apart before she’d even laid out her offer. It had to be that it was so familiar. So comforting. So much had changed about Whispers Wood and so this small thing staying the same was like another good omen. An omen that said it was okay to mix the old with the new.

Old dreams. New future.

She breathed as deeply as the dress would allow and determined to swallow past the lump in her throat.

‘Kate Somersby. Well look at you, standing at my door, looking pretty as a picture.’

Kate smiled. ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to see me today, Mr–’ Holy Face-Palm, her welcoming grin was chased off her face by utter consternation. She’d only known him all her life and yet, what on earth was his last name? Frantically she ran through names in her head. Isaac… Isaac Bell? Isaac Newton? Isaac… Asimov?

‘Oh, I think you can get away with calling me, Isaac, dear,’ he said, saving her bacon and making her feel like maybe she could do this after all.

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