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* * *

Elara yawned and tied her robe more tightly before stepping out onto the battered, creaking, wraparound wooden porch. She leaned against the door frame and petted the old wood a couple of times, and grinned when she felt the vibration returned in the wood. ‘So, I think it’s about time we gave you a new coat of paint… make you look a bit more like your old self again. What do you think? I’ll try and make you look pretty again, if you could try not to do anything to cost me any more money. It’d be really helpful if you could try not to burst any more pipes or give me any other surprises. Especially the expensive ones. Unless you have some buried treasure you’d like to share?’

Elara fancied that the following creaks were almost a little like laughter. Not that it would be happening here – but it was a nice idea, anyway. Enjoying the few minutes of peace before renovation chaos began, she headed down the creaky wooden steps.

And nearly brained herself as her foot caught and she went flying.

‘Ow.’ She opened her eyes and yelped as she came face to face with a bright, cheesy, painted grin. She jumped backwards as far as she could while being prostrate over the splintered old decking. When she realised what had made her jump, she laughed: a brightly painted, cheerfully grinning gnome, complete with a jaunty bow tie – a bit at odds with his more traditional pointed hat and fishing rod. She picked him up for a better look and pushed herself back to her feet. Another grinning gnome – presumably a friend of the sharp-dressing fisherman – was on its side by her feet. Clearly the reason behind her trip. Shaking her head, she picked it up and placed them both carefully on the edge of the deck, where they would be less likely to be trip hazards. She looked at them suspiciously. ‘Where, exactly, did you come from?’

Neither of the gnomes looked like they were going to answer her, so she headed towards the barn to get her painting gear – but not before giving the gnomes one last, suspicious look.

She chatted to herself – and the old spirits of the inn that may or may not have been there – as she painted, quickly covering the dry old wood. If anything, the wood seemed to suck the pigment up and help her to spread it more quickly.

A few minutes later, Elara froze, surprised by the familiar sensation that was tickling at the edge of her consciousness. She hadn’t expected that. She didn’t realise how long she’d stood there until a cold splodge of paint dripped off the brush and splatted against her nose.

‘Eww.’ She did her best to wipe off the creamy yellow paint that definitely looked better on the window than splattered across her face. But when she turned around to look for the source of the weird flutter, it had gone again.

‘Was that you?’ She rested her hand on a spot of unpainted wood, but it stayed as silent as dried old wood was expected to. She shook her head. Perhaps she’d imagined it. That would make much more sense than the almost certainly impossible alternative.

But the painted gnome watching her from the top step, grinning from under its top hat? That was a little harder to ignore.

By the time the sparrows arrived in their droves half an hour later, Elara was a lot more sure of what was going on, and immediately recognised the strange yet familiar tickle at the edge of her mind. This time she paid attention, closing her eyes and letting herself drop into the feeling. It was soft and warm, yet still not fully tangible – somewhere between stepping into a shaft of sunlight and wrapping yourself in a favourite comfy blanket.

When she opened her eyes, she was certain. ‘OK, so Hudsbury is that type of place. I have to admit, I didn’t expect to find it here… but it does go a way to explaining a few things. Like the gnomes. Cute, but I’d appreciate it if they weren’t left under my feet in future please. So, I’m assuming this welcoming committee has something to ask? You might as well come down and explain.’

She listened for a while, nodding, then pulled out her phone to start making notes.

‘In how long? That short? That’s going to be tight…’ She hesitated when she felt a spark ripple throughout the inn and through her feet. ‘Really? So you are an enchanted inn after all… I had been starting to suspect. And you think we can pull this off?’ She waited for the answer before nodding. ‘Then yes, I’m in. I guess we both are.’

* * *

The next day she stepped out onto her deck, carefully stepping over the ever-multiplying gnomes – this time complete with hats, flowers and arranged in a circle – and took another sip of coffee. The sun had already painted the sky in beautiful shades of pastel pink and gold, and all the work she – and her new helpers – had done on the inn had started transforming it. Even the spiderwebs looked prettier than usual. She peered at one more closely and smiled – hearts and flowers had been spun in delicate gossamer, dotted with sparkling dewdrops. This place really was magical.

The decking creaked cheerfully, and Elara felt the inn subtly shift and settle around her – happy to be getting updated. The old building was warm and welcoming, and excited to be playing a part in bringing two people together.

Elara knew she still had a mountain of work to do, but every hour already put in was clear to see and it was at least looking more charmingly rustic than the falling down ramshackle place she’d bought.

The blossoms would be past their best by the important day, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that, and at least the deck wasn’t likely to collapse under anyone now.

She watched, still yawning as the first car pulled up, and waved to the occupants. It was going to be a busy few days – but she was looking forward to it.

* * *

Across the village, Lily-Ann paused, dibber in one hand and nasturtium seeds in the other, when Ivy dropped a friendly tendril over her shoulders. She listened for a few moments.

‘Really? And neither of them know? It’s all a secret? Oh, what fun. Of course I’d be glad to help. And I’ll let the others know. This is going to take a lot of planning, but I’m definitely up for it. How exciting!’

* * *

For the first few seconds after Jamie woke up, everything was fine. In that hazy morning warmth, Amrita was cuddled against him, and the scent of her hair was in his nose.

Then he opened his eyes properly and cold reality hit.

He forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom, only to be confronted with his own misery in the mirror: dark, puffy circles ringed his eyes and he was past the point of needing a shave – but it all seemed like too much effort and he didn’t really care. What was the point, anyway?

He did the bathroom basics quickly, threw on some clothes that didn’t look or smell too gross, and headed for the kitchen. He peered into the fridge and cupboards in turn, but nothing jumped out or inspired him to want to eat, and he knew forcing the issue just left him feeling like he was gagging on sawdust and cardboard. And he was running late for work again. Not that he’d been much use in the last week. The days were dragging to the point where every minute felt like an hour and nothing seemed to work right – with his designs being more smudges and scribbles than anything actually useful.

Black, bitter coffee matched his mood, as did the miserable grey drizzle outside the kitchen window. Typical.