Escape to Happy Ever After: An uplifting feel-good romance Read online

  Escape to Happy Ever After

  S J Crabb

  Contents

  Also by S J Crabb

  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

  Epilogue

  Epilogue 2

  The Last Word

  More Books

  Keep in touch

  ♥

  Copyrighted Material

  Copyright © S J Crabb 2021

  S J Crabb has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  NB: This book uses UK spelling & grammar

  Also by S J Crabb

  ♥

  The Diary of Madison Brown

  My Perfect Life at Cornish Cottage

  My Christmas Boyfriend

  Jetsetters

  More from Life

  A Special Kind of Advent

  Fooling in love

  Will You

  Holly Island

  Aunt Daisy’s Letter

  The Wedding at the Castle of Dreams

  My Christmas Romance

  Escape to Happy Ever After

  sjcrabb.com

  Escape to Happy Ever After

  Escape to Happy Ever After where all your happy endings are guaranteed.

  When Susie Mahoney was gifted a break to Happy Ever After, she couldn’t pack her bags quickly enough because she had to do something to break the run of bad luck she was experiencing.

  She was fast approaching the age where all her friends had settled down and found their ‘one’ and she was running out of options.

  Happy Ever After, as it turns out, is a sweet little bed & breakfast on the Dorset coast and as soon as she sets eyes on the little cottage nestling in a valley before a sparkling sea, she falls in love.

  Surely this is the perfect place to set her life back on track and consider her options. Long walks in the fresh air to concentrate her mind. Hearty meals to raise her energy levels and cosy evenings in the local pub beside a flickering fire curled up with a good book. Perfect.

  However, what she didn’t realise was the invitation was for two and her ‘plus one’ was already unpacked and making himself at home. There is also a fossil club convention in town meaning every room on the Jurassic coast is occupied and she has to spend the next week with a stranger.

  Freddie Carlton receives an invitation to escape to Happy Ever After and was particularly interested in the ‘happy ending’ it promised. Having had a disastrous run of bad luck with women he was prepared to try anything.

  He wasn’t prepared to discover that his ‘one’ had already been chosen for him and was seriously annoying. A woman who arrived with more baggage than an Airbus and was in no mood to share.

  Will Happy Ever After work its magic and give them both the happy ending they deserve, or will fate continue to throw obstacles in their path and turn their bad start into a very complicated ending?

  Chapter 1

  I can’t believe I’m actually going to a place called Happy Ever After. It’s so strange – mad, even. Then again, I could use a little crazy in my life right now. Life has certainly been dealing me a few low blows lately, and I need to break this run of bad luck.

  The scenery distracts me from my usual depression and I feel it shift a little inside me as I stare out of the windscreen at a place where magic happens.

  Dorset, England. Rolling hills undulating against a backdrop of a clear blue sparkling sea. The sun’s rays catch on the surface and become dancing diamonds, sparkling their fairy dust into the eyes of the beholder. Lambs frolic in the lush green fields and raise a smile that hasn’t been there for some time. I’ve decided the best thing of all about Dorset is that it’s just me and nature. No crowds, no cars and no noise. Perfect.

  My little mini eats up the miles as I drive towards the mini break that was a gift from my best friend Polly. She is like a sister to me and has endured many long conversations where I have poured my heart out and cried on her shoulder at the endless mistakes I keep on making in life.

  It always involves a man - men actually, and I am finally coming to the conclusion that men are not for me. Not that I prefer women, well, I do as friends, but… Men! If God were a woman, Eve would have been tempted by Adam. That’s me, easily tempted. The trouble is, I was tempted by the devil and I’ve just managed to drag myself out of Hell and am now dealing with the burns.

  Sighing, I crank up the music and nod my head along to ‘I Will Survive’ and raise a smile. I don’t need a man to define me, I’m strong, powerful, a goddess that walks on earth and slays men in my path. I am superwoman.

  The music is so loud I don’t notice the change in engine noise and so it’s a complete shock when my car decides to do a voluntary emergency stop and I almost meet the windscreen head on.

  The music dies along with my last nerve, and I thump the wheel in frustration. Bother, bother, bother, extreme bother with a Christmas hat on. What a time to break down.

  Sighing, I rummage in the glove box for my emergency pack, meticulously researched and printed out on a spreadsheet with the various numbers I need to save me from certain panic.

  Thankfully, it’s there in its plastic wallet as it was designed to be, and I breathe and count to ten slowly before I deal with this crisis as I know I can.

  Locating the details for the road side rescue service, I reach for my phone and dial the number feeling a little smug that I’m so organised. What’s a break down after all when you are superwoman?

  Call failed.

  I try again and then again and then again before I realise with a sinking feeling - there’s no signal.

  A nearby lamb calls for its mother and I know it’s laughing at me. Why wasn’t I born a lamb? Life would be so much simpler, and I wouldn’t have to deal with LIFE!

  Deciding to exit the vehicle as protocol usually dictates, I stare at mini moo in frustration. Why? Why now? You’ve always been so reliable, so solid. Why now when I’m miles from anywhere with only a lamb for company?

  The thought of locating the problem myself doesn’t even occur to me. I’m not a mechanic, why would I know? I can’t even google my way out of this because apparently those undulating hills serve to keep the rest of the world
out and there’s no signal!

  The fact I’m blocking the road is also a bit of a problem. I say road, more like a track, and I stare around me nervously in case a car decides to finish the job and put mini moo out of her misery.

  Feeling frustrated, I wonder if I can walk to a neighbouring farmhouse where a friendly farmer’s wife will welcome me in and pour me a mug of tea from her ever boiling pot on the Aga and cut me a slice of homemade apple cake. Yes, that’s a good idea. She will have a land line and happily offer to help me and I can wait in her farmhouse kitchen and warm my toes in front of her fire in the rocking chair. Yes, that’s going to happen, I just know it.

  However, all around me are just fields, lambs and a now oppressive silence.

  Taking a deep breath, I climb back into my car and try to turn the ignition. It just makes that whirring sound that tells me it’s not happy and isn’t going anywhere. The phone signal doesn’t even have one bar and I feel like crying. What now?

  It’s taken me several hours to get this far, and Happy Ever After must be only ten minutes away.

  It will be dark soon, and what if no one comes? Maybe a murderer will the first one on the scene and they will find my car and I’ll be missing presumed dead. I expect that’s going to happen because it’s just my luck.

  Resting my head against the steering wheel, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. Why me, why is it always me? Why can’t I go anywhere, or do anything without something bad happening?

  Suddenly, I hear a sound – of life and look up with hope flaring in my heart. I’m being rescued. This is it; someone will save me and he will be a billionaire on his way to his mansion. He will stop and fall in love with me on the spot, and all my troubles will vanish like smoke on a windy day. He will be tall, dark and handsome and look a little like Tom Cruise in his glory days although much taller. Actually, scrub that, he will be Chris Hemsworth dressed as Thor wielding his sword.

  So, it’s with a little disappointment that I see a tractor heading towards me and my heart sinks even more as he sounds some kind of horn thing and waves at me to move aside. Once again, I exit the car and stand waving apologetically, mouthing, “Help me.”

  The man inside looks irritable and rolls his eyes and squeals to a halt and jumps down from his monster vehicle. As he saunters towards me, yet again my heart sinks when I see he is no Chris Hemsworth, or Liam come to mention it. He is angry!

  “You can’t park there.”

  “I’m not parked, I’ve broken down.”

  “You can’t break down here either.”

  “Tell that to my car.”

  “Listen lady, I have a herd of cows heading this way and your car had better not be in their way.”

  Looking over my shoulder in horror, I picture them stampeding mini moo and it’s not a pleasant image.

  “Can you help me?” My voice sounds rather high and damsel in distressy and he blows out – hard.

  “I’m not the emergency services love.”

  “But you’re all I’ve got until I can get a phone signal to call them.”

  “What’s the matter with it then?”

  “I don’t know, she just stopped.”

  “She?”

  He raises a sarcastic eye, yes, there is such a thing and blows out again, I would say exhale but this man doesn’t do anything by halves and I’m guessing he doesn’t meet many people because his art of conversation is seriously off.

  “Yes, mini moo is a she and she has let me down badly.”

  “Mini what?”

  “Moo, like in the cows that are heading our way as we speak. Please help me, you’re my only hope.”

  I think he whispers something like, “Bloody grockle,” and I wonder if this a Dorsetonian swear word. I really must look it up when I reach the land of google but for now, I am completely at his mercy.

  Remembering my manners, I say formally, “I’m pleased to meet you, I’m Susie Mahoney and I…”

  He kicks the tyre and I say in outrage, “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

  “Checking for a flat.”

  “Oh, that’s alright then, I mean, having eyes isn’t enough around here is it? I mean, a good old kick will really tell you what your eyes can’t.”

  He shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair, and I notice a tattoo of a lamb on his bicep. Come to think of it, this man’s arms are a walking farmyard because he has every farm animal going tattooed on his arm, with names too.

  I stare at him with interest as he grumbles, “I’ll get my brother to drag it out with his landrover.”

  “Drag it! Can’t you just call the AA man? I mean, they do have actual ways of making cars roadworthy again and I’m sure dragging it will do more harm than good.”

  “Don’t have time, the cows.”

  He turns away and grabs some kind of walkie talkie thing from his tractor and speaks into it with words I don’t recognise. Grockle, airhead and townie are littered with expletives and carry towards my ears on the bleat of a lamb’s cry.

  He returns and says gruffly, “He’s on his way.”

  He turns to leave and I say slightly hysterically, “Where are you going?”

  “Got work to do.”

  He heaves his body back into the tractor and the engine noise drowns out my plea to stay with me. I watch in disbelief as he reverses his tractor back up the road, and then I see him enter the lamb’s field. As he passes me on the other side of the hedge, he shouts, “I’ll head off the cows.”

  He goes before I can answer, leaving me stranded once again with just the promise of a landrover and his brother to rescue me. Hoping against hope his brother is some kind of hot body building, billionaire farmer, I sit down and wait for the love god to arrive.

  Chapter 2

  It’s doubtful there are any billionaires in Dorset, or Hemsworths, although there appears to be plenty of Thors, minus the good looks and personality. The brother of the previous ungallant knight arrives, looking even more irritated as he wordlessly hooks up mini moo to the tow bar and says roughly, “Get in, you’ll have to steer.”

  “What?”

  He rolls his eyes and growls, “I’ll tow you, just keep the car level with mine, handbrake off, can you manage that?”

  “Of course, I can drive, you know.”

  He doesn’t even reply and just turns and jumps into probably the oldest landrover in existence and the noise of the engine mocks me because how on earth is that death trap still functioning, while my mini moo is broken - much like its owner?

  Somehow, I manage to keep my car level and allow myself to be pulled down the track behind the angry man.

  It takes about ten minutes before he pulls off the road, then heads up another track that leads into a courtyard where there are several industrial barns filled with decaying farm machinery and bales of hay.

  I watch as he exits his car that should be illegal and heads across. “Where are you heading?”

  “Happy ever after.”

  A faint smile ghosts his lips and he nods, seemingly unfazed by my reply.

  “I’ll give you a ride, you can arrange to collect your car from there.”

  “Wait, you want me to leave mini moo here?”

  “Mini what?”

  He starts to laugh and I say defensively, “My car, we’ve been through a lot together and she deserves some respect.”

  Shaking his head, he says roughly, “Grab any valuables, it’s not far, Kevin will sort your car out.”

  “Who’s Kevin?”

  “Owns the place you’re going. A bit strange, but nice enough.”

  Goodness, if he thinks Kevin’s strange, he must be certifiable because the ‘shame they’re not the Hemsworth brothers’ are the strangest men I think I’ve ever met.

  Grabbing my handbag and keeping a tight grip on my phone, I surreptitiously snap a photo of his number plate and send it to Polly. You can’t be too careful and if this man is a murderer, at least my forward thinking will bring him to justice.


  As I open the door of the rusty old landrover, I gag a little. It smells like a farmyard in here and looks as if the pigs live in here at night. The seat is missing most of the padding that oozes out of the ripped fabric and makes me shiver inside. The mud on the mats is old and caked on and there’s a slight pungent odour that makes me long for the days of face masks once again.

  There doesn’t even appear to be any comforts in this contraption, calling it a car would be against the trade descriptions act and so I perch on the edge of the seat and note with a sinking feeling that there’s not even a seatbelt.

  It’s not even legal and I could very much end my life on this journey and if that happens, I am so haunting the hell out of this man and his brother.

  We set off and bone-shaker isn’t even close. I think I hit the roof several times as any suspension this car/death trap ever had, is long gone. The window appears to be stuck on open and there’s a cool breeze coming from the air vent along with the toxic smell of burning diesel.

  Thor number 2 doesn’t even try to make conversation and neither do I because I couldn’t hear him if he shouted with a megaphone. My ears are ringing, my nerves are jangling, and I’m a physical and emotional wreck as we pull into the driveway of a place called Happy Ever After.