Summer at Lavender Bay: A fabulously feel-good summer romance perfect for taking on holiday!. Sarah Bennett
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took another step back while Beth finished serving the pair who left with cheery waves. Her eyes roamed over the cluttered shelves of the emporium. Beth already stocked jewellery and other small artworks from local craftspeople, perhaps she might find room for a few bits and pieces…
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Eliza glanced up to find Beth giving her a Cheshire cat grin.
‘Maybe…’ Eliza bit her lip. ‘But I wouldn’t want to impose.’
‘Oh, rubbish.’ Beth waved away her comment. ‘I’m a hard-headed businesswoman these days and you know it. I’m only interested in stock that will sell, and from the covetous looks that woman was giving your outfit, I reckon I’d be on to a winner.’
‘It would be worth a try,’ Eliza mused. ‘And in addition to selling them here I can set up online. It’s pretty straightforward, and I’ve still got my Etsy store.’ She’d put her account on hiatus, but a couple of clicks and she’d be back up and running.
And it didn’t have to be just clothes. She could run up some pretty cushions and other soft furnishings. Or make some soaps and scented candles. People loved to buy homemade things, and she could even rent a pitch at car boot sales or craft fairs. It would be a lot of work, but it would be her work. And if she could add a local twist to some of her products, something to tie them in to Lavender Bay…of course! When the idea came to her, it was so obvious she could’ve smacked herself for not thinking of it sooner. ‘I need to pay the Gilberts a visit. What do you think about a range of beauty products and scented candles using lavender from their farm?’
Beth sipped her tea, eyes sparkling with excitement over the rim of her mug. ‘I think you’ve got yourself the makings of a fantastic business. You’ll need a hook, though. A brand that reflects who you are and the fact everything is homemade, not mass-produced.’
‘I’m not very good at marketing,’ Eliza confessed. It had been what had held her back before. She’d never been great at pushing herself forward into the limelight.
‘I didn’t have a clue when I took over this place, but it’s a lot easier than I expected it to be.’ Beth reached for her phone. ‘That Instagram account Libby persuaded me to open with Banana Monkey was a stroke of genius. He’s got so many followers, it’s ridiculous!’
Eliza’s eyes strayed to the giant wooden banana standing pride of place just inside the door. The monkey perched on the top was modelling a pair of fluorescent pink sunglasses and a floppy sunhat. Eleanor, the original owner of the emporium, had purchased the monstrosity and he’d been a firm fixture ever since. ‘I love the photos you post on that account.’
Beth grinned. ‘Exactly! I linked it to Facebook and Twitter so everything I post gets shared there automatically. I’ve even had a few customers pose with him and got them to hashtag the emporium.’
‘I’d need something of my own, though…’ Eliza rested her elbows on the counter as she thought about it. ‘If I can get the Gilberts on board then I can make lavender the central theme.’
‘Yes!’ Beth scrolled through her phone. ‘Look, there’s lots of popular lavender hashtags already. What about Made in Lavender Bay?’
‘Hmm.’ It had possibilities, but Eliza wanted something more personal, something to reflect the care and attention she took over the things she made. ‘How about With Love from Lavender Bay?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Or is that too cheesy?’
‘Oh, I love that! And I don’t think it’s cheesy, I think it’s adorable. You could make a little logo, like a heart made from stalks of lavender twisted together.’
Eliza couldn’t help but giggle, the excitement building inside her was too much to contain. If she made the logo simple enough, she could stitch it onto the clothes as well. ‘I’ve got to go and write all this down!’ She’d made it halfway around the counter before she spun back to peck a kiss to Beth’s cheek. ‘You’re amazing. Thank you.’
Feeling positive for the first time in months Eliza practically skipped through the front door of The Siren. A familiar sandy-curled head appeared from behind the bar, followed by a set of broad shoulders as her brother rose to his full height. ‘Hey, where’ve you been hiding?’
The smile on her face threatened to split her cheeks. ‘Not hiding, plotting my new venture with your gorgeous girlfriend.’
A dreamy look crossed Sam’s face. ‘She is gorgeous, isn’t she?’
Eliza rolled her eyes at the goofy expression, though secretly she was delighted to see her big brother so clearly smitten. He’d always been a bit of a rolling stone when it came to previous girlfriends, but Sam had fallen hook, line and sinker this time. ‘I’m guessing she’s about the same as when you left her this morning.’ She’d only meant to tease him, but wondered if she’d missed the mark when a frown crossed his brow.
‘Is everything all right with us? You don’t mind about me and Beth being together, do you?’
Hurrying around to the other side of the bar, Eliza threw her arms around his waist to give him a hug. ‘Of course, I don’t mind. It was a bit weird to begin with, but you guys are so good for each other—anyone can see that.’
Sam squeezed her back. ‘I’m really happy, Eliza.’
She loosened her arms to look up at him. ‘Good.’ A lump formed in her throat out of nowhere. She seemed to teeter on the edge of tears at the slightest thing, and it was getting on her nerves. Leaving Martin had been the right thing to do, and she still had no regrets over it, but that didn’t stop her mourning for what might have been or feeling guilty over her own part in the failure of their marriage. If it had been unremittingly awful—if he’d cheated on her or treated her badly—then things might have been easier. Instead it had been a slow, steady decline, as the bonds of love frayed away until nothing remained but a few strings of familiarity and a legal tie rather than any meaningful remnant of those vows they’d said to each other.
‘Ah, Eliza, don’t look so sad, I can’t stand it.’ Sam tugged a lock of her hair. ‘Besides, crying makes you look ugly.’ He danced back out of reach with an evil grin on his face.
Outrage at his teasing chased away her sadness, exactly as he’d intended, no doubt. ‘At least I’m only ugly when I cry, mister, which is more than can be said for you.’
‘Ouch.’ Sam staggered back clutching at his chest, then grinned at her. ‘So come on then, tell me all about this new venture of yours.’
As she helped him set up the bar for the day, Eliza explained about the customer admiring her clothes and how that had snowballed into plans for her own creative empire. ‘I’ll have to supplement it with working here at first because I’ll need every penny I can lay my hands on to invest in materials and equipment.’ Some of her excitement ebbed away. ‘Mum and Dad won’t be thrilled about it, I think they have their heart set on me taking over this place now you’ve got your restaurant and everything.’
Sam paused in the act of wiping down the bar and fixed green eyes the exact same shade as her own on her. ‘And they’ll get over it the same way they did when I told them about Subterranean. All they really want is for us to be happy and successful. Speaking of which…’ He pulled a thick white envelope out of his back pocket and placed it on the bar between them.
‘What’s this?’ Flipping it over, she spotted the name of the local council on the post mark, and excitement bubbled inside. ‘Is this what I think it is?’ A trained chef, her brother wanted to convert the pub’s old skittle alley down in the cellar into a high-class restaurant. The plans had been drawn up and submitted for planning permission, and Sam had been on tenterhooks ever since.
Sam scrubbed the back of his neck. ‘Yep.’ The look on his face was an agonised combination of hope and worry. ‘What if they said no?’
Coming home to help run the pub after their father fell ill had meant a lot of sacrifices for Sam. The