Making Wishes at Bay View

Jessica Redland

Description

Never give up on a wish for a happy ever after...

Callie Derbyshire has it all: her dream job as a carer at Bay View, finally she has found the love of her life. Everything is perfect.

Well, almost.

Ex-partners are insistent on stirring up trouble, and Callie’s favourite resident, Ruby, hasn’t been her usual self.

But after discovering the truth about Ruby’s lost love, Callie is determined to give Ruby’s romantic story the happy ending it deserves. After all, it’s never too late to let love in again. Or is it?

A heartwarming and uplifting novel of finding love and friendship in the least expected places from top 10 bestselling author, Jessica Redland.This book was previously published as two novellas - Raving About Rhys and Callie's Christmas Wish.

What readers are saying about Making Wishes at Bay View:

'I really enjoyed this book and the characters and most of all I am happy that it will be a series.'

'This book did not disappoint in the slightest'

'It is written really beautifully.'

'Absolutely adored the charming storyline'

'This book exceeded my expectations'

'From start to finish, I was hooked.'

' It is totally heart-warming'

'What a sweet, charming, and enjoyable read about finding love and discovering who you are yourself'

Sujets

• Sea Stories
• Mashups
• Siblings
• Women
• Coming of Age
• Contemporary history
• SpongeBob SquarePants
• Romantic Comedy
• Sibling
• Woman
• The Women
• Contemporary
• Sagas
• Family Life
• Romance
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 14 janvier 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838891961
• Langue: English

Extrait

MAKING WISHES AT BAY VIEW
WELCOME TO WHITSBOROUGH BAY BOOK 1


JESSICA REDLAND
To Beatrice – nurse, midwife, councillor, mayor,
mother, grandmother and inspiration. May you rest in peace xx
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

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Epilogue


More From Jessica Redland

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Jessica Redland

Love Notes

About Boldwood Books
1

I blame it on my dad. If he hadn’t died when I was only six, I don’t think I’d have been so obsessed with older men. Don’t get me wrong, Nick did a brilliant job at being the man in my life. I don’t know what Mum and I would have done without him. But ceasing to be the brother and becoming the dad instead is a big ask for anyone, especially when they’re only ten themselves when it happens.
Let me be really clear for a moment. I wasn’t looking for an older man to be a replacement father or anything weird like that. It’s just that I was drawn to them more than to anyone close to my age. There was a confidence about them. Maturity. Experience. They were attentive. They knew what they wanted. In some cases they knew what was best for me too and I kind of liked not having to make decisions for myself. Sometimes. So, on reflection, perhaps they were filling some sort of dad-shaped void in my life.
The thing is, my relationships always seemed to go wrong. Very wrong. I swore every time that I wasn’t going to get involved with an older man again. Then the next one would come along and I’d be right back to square one, thinking that this time would be different.
What’s that phrase? You have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince? Believe me, I’ve kissed more than my fair share of frogs. And toads. And snakes. But I’d finally got there. I’d found my prince and he answered to the name of Tony Sinclair. Forty-five. Divorced. No kids. Still had his own hair. Still had the body and sex drive of a man in his twenties. Perfect. Or it would have been if he wasn’t constantly on the road with his job and I didn’t work shifts. Time together was rare and precious.
‘Are you still courting that sugar daddy of yours?’ Ruby asked as she watched me lay out the tables for afternoon bingo.
I smiled at my favourite resident. I knew I shouldn’t have favourites, but Ruby had led such a fascinating life and I loved hearing all about it. She’d run away to join the circus at age fourteen, then toured the world as an exotic dancer in her late teens and early twenties. Seriously. I’d seen the photographic evidence. She’d been a looker back then and still was. She’d gathered a few wrinkles in her eighty-four years, but her grey eyes still sparkled with mischief, her thick white hair was always elegantly pinned up, and she dressed immaculately in calf-length satin and lace dresses, crocheted floaty cardigans, and pearls. She reminded me of a flapper from the twenties.
‘Tony? Yes, Ruby, we’re still courting.’
‘No more accusations of being clingy?’
I shook my head. ‘All dealt with and forgotten a couple of months ago.’ We’d split up in April after I’d gone overboard on texting and phoning him around my twenty-fifth birthday. He was working away on my actual birthday, which I completely accepted, and this had been my way of feeling close to him. He wasn’t impressed, his boss wasn’t impressed, and I wasn’t impressed at being called ‘childish and clingy’. So I childishly dumped him. I regretted it immediately and pleaded for another chance. He made me stew a bit before forgiving me but everything was back on track a fortnight later. Lesson learned.
Ruby took a seat at her regular table overlooking the gardens and straightened her lilac frock. ‘How long is it now, Callie?’
I started distributing the bingo cards. ‘Coming up eleven months. Bit of a record for me. It usually goes tits-up within three.’ I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. ‘Please don’t tell anyone I said rude words. Especially Denise.’
Denise Kimble, aka the She-Devil, was the Day Manager of Bay View Care Home and not my biggest fan. I’d been hauled into her office only the week before and lectured on the ‘inappropriateness’ of shouting out, ‘Who’s farted?’ during film night. It didn’t matter to her that the residents had found it hilarious or that it had prompted Jack Laine to do the decent thing and leave the room to evacuate his bowels instead of steadily overcoming the residents’ lounge with noxious gases. Apparently, ‘The elderly frequently suffer from flatulence issues and staff should know better than to draw attention to it using vulgar language’. That was me told.
Ruby picked up the bingo card I’d given her, frowned and swapped it with one from across the table. ‘No lucky seven on it,’ she announced when she saw me watching. ‘Nearly eleven months, you say? Congratulations. Let’s hope he’s a keeper.’
I grinned. ‘Oh, he is, Ruby. He definitely is.’
‘I like sugar daddies. Did I tell you about my first one? I was sixteen and he was the fifty-eight-year-old lion tamer at the circus. There was nothing that man couldn’t do with a whip…’



* * *
‘Tony!’ I ran across the car park at the end of my shift, grinning. He drew me into a tender kiss.
‘Get a room, you two!’ yelled Maria, my best friend and colleague, as she walked past.
I waved to her and giggled. ‘She’s only jealous. Where are you taking me tonight?’
‘I thought we could have a night in. I’ve got some wine and I can order a takeaway.’ He stepped back and frowned. ‘What’s up, angel?’
‘Nothing,’ I said in a tone that clearly meant ‘something’.
‘Callie…?’
‘Well, it’s just that you promised we’d go out somewhere nice for once.’
Tony took my hands. ‘It’s Monday. Who goes out on a Monday night?’
‘But you said…’
‘I’m tired too. I’ve driven miles today.’
Tony’s job took him all over the country looking at care homes to add to his company’s portfolio and finding suitable sites for new ones. It was how we met. He’d visited Bay View last summer but one of the residents keeled over with a heart attack shortly after he arrived and I was the only staff member available to give Tony the tour while the She-Devil dealt with the emergency. ‘No flirting, Carolyn,’ she’d hissed. ‘He’s a professional and I expect you to try and behave like one in front of him.’ And I did. It’s not my fault that I have a naturally friendly, bubbly personality that older men seem drawn towards. Thank God it had been Maria who discovered us in the laundry room together and not the She-Devil or I’d have been sacked on the spot.
I looked into Tony’s hazel eyes and had to concede that he did look shattered. ‘Okay. A night in it is. I bought some new underwear, but if you’re really that exhausted…’
His eyes lit up and he kissed me again. ‘Not that exhausted,’ he murmured. ‘Come on. Let’s get you home.’



* * *
Tony wrapped his strong arms around me an hour or so later. I backed up against his chest as he kissed the top of my head. ‘I didn’t get to show you my new underwear,’ I whispered.
‘Next time. Besides, I prefer this look.’ He lifted the duvet up and whistled appreciatively. ‘Yep, I definitely prefer the natural look.’
‘Stop it! You’re embarrassing me.’
‘There’s nobody here except the two of us. Unless Sir Teddington has suddenly come to life and turned into a voyeur.’ He indicated my childhood teddy sat on the bedside cabinet. ‘Because, if he has, we can put on a better show for him than we’ve just done. Really give him his money’s worth.’ He began circling his hands over my breasts. My body arched at his teasing touch.
‘Tony! It’s half nine. I’ve only had a sandwich all day. Shouldn’t we get something to eat?’
‘The only thing I’m hungry for is you.’ He lightly ran his right hand down the curve of my stomach.
‘I mean it. I’m starving.’
‘Food can wait. It’s not like you’re wasting away, is it?’
I stiffened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I was a size sixteen and proud of my curves. A physical job and a love of swimming kept me toned but this wasn’t the first time Tony had made a comment suggesting I was fat rather than curvaceous. Feeling irritated, I flicked his arms off me and wriggled out of the bed.
‘What’s up?’ The surprised look on his face suggested he really hadn’t a clue.
‘I need the loo.’ I grabbed my robe off the wardrobe door and scuttled through the living area towards the tiny bathroom.
Chewing on my thumbnail as I sat on the toilet, I replayed the conversation. He hadn’t actually called me fat and it was the sort of comment I’d normally have brushed aside as a joke, so why had it got to me just now? Was my irritation less to do with the comment and more to do with another broken promise around going out? Not that I was complaining about how we’d spent the evening – he certainly knew what he was doing – but surely after eleven months we should be developing more as a couple? I was no expert, having never made it past three months before – but wouldn’t a normal couple have developed common interests during that time that weren’t just confined to the bedroom? Or the sofa. Or the shower.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. My thick shoulder-length dark hair was sticking up in all directions. I grabbed a brush and tried to tame it,