Tracy Corbett - Starlight on the Palace Pier - The very best kind of romance for the Christmas season in 2018

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Tracy Corbett 2018

Cover design © dmeacham design 2018

Cover illustrations © Shutterstock

Tracy Corbett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © October 2018 ISBN: 9780008299477

Version: 2018-08-29

For my Mum & Dad,

who have just celebrated their 60 thWedding Anniversary!

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page STARLIGHT ON THE PALACE PIER TRACY CORBETT

Copyright Published by AVON A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018 Copyright © Tracy Corbett 2018 Cover design © dmeacham design 2018 Cover illustrations © Shutterstock Tracy Corbett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © October 2018 ISBN: 9780008299477 Version: 2018-08-29

Dedication For my Mum & Dad, who have just celebrated their 60 th Wedding Anniversary!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Thursday 7th September

Becca Roberts got off the bus outside the grand Queens Hotel and made her way along the promenade towards Ruby’s Guest House, the place she called home. The sea breeze increased as the English Channel came into view, choppy and grey, chucking waves of foam over the harbour wall. Wispy clouds obscured the sun, but that didn’t detract from the spectacular view. No matter where she’d lived, or travelled to since moving away to attend dance college, Brighton always appealed, whatever the weather.

She stopped to rub her knee. Waking up with a raging hangover had killed any desire to do her strengthening exercises today. Her physio wouldn’t be happy. He also wouldn’t approve of her hobbling down the road weighed down by a lumpy rucksack and dragging a heavy suitcase, but needs must.

And anyway, she was used to pain. Injury was an occupational hazard for a dancer. At some point, everything in your body would hurt. But this latest injury wasn’t a niggle that could be cured by massage, painkillers and ice. And that was something she was still struggling to get her head around.

The sight of her mum’s bright yellow front door cheered her a little. Ruby’s Guest House was a three-storey Georgian townhouse situated in the Artists’ Quarter, bang smack between the old burnt-out West Pier and the replacement Palace Pier. The ‘Vacancies’ sign creaked in the breeze as she approached. God, she’d missed this place.

Despite ringing the bell twice and knocking, no one answered. She tried the door, unsurprised to find it open. Her mum had been known to leave a key in it overnight.

‘Anyone home?’ she called out, carrying her suitcase over the threshold. ‘Mum?’

Still no answer. She spotted a Post-it Note stuck to the mirror hanging in the hallway.

In the kitchen prepping lunch. You’re in the Seventies Suite! Come and find me when you’re settled. Mum. x

Becca smiled. The Seventies Suite was her favourite. She dragged her suitcase upstairs and down the landing. As she opened the bedroom door, she was hit by bright swirls of orange patterning on the wall and a lime-green duvet cover with a multitude of cushions strewn about the bed. A lava lamp sat on top of a chunky bedside cabinet, next to a yellow plastic clock. The room glowed, helped by the orange curtains and huge sash window.

She couldn’t help laughing as she kicked off her shoes and jumped onto the queen-sized divan. She’d spent many a night lying on this bed during her teenage years, gossiping with her cousin about boys… Well, one boy.

Themed rooms had been her dad’s idea. He’d spent six years designing and constructing the different spaces, researching and sourcing suitable décor and putting his carpentry skills to use before dropping dead of a heart attack aged forty-six. It had seemed so cruel that after all his hard work, he hadn’t lived long enough to complete the project and enjoy it.

Shaking away the sadness, she rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom, enjoying the feel of the deep-pile rug beneath her feet. Like the bedroom, the en suite was styled to reflect the Seventies, including a pampas bath suite and psychedelic tiling. She noticed a large crack in the shower screen and made a mental note to tell her mum. Ruby’s Guest House was normally in tip-top condition, something her dad had always insisted on.

After a quick shower, in the hope it might ease her hangover, she slung on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting crop top and headed for the stairs.

All the bedroom doors were closed, except for the one leading to the sewing room. She stuck her head around the door, eager to admire her mum’s latest work-in-progress. But instead of the usual collection of haberdashery neatly displayed on the shelving, she was greeted with mayhem and clutter. Rolls of material lay on the floor, two partially dressed mannequins were shoved against the wall and various boxes of ribbons and accessories obscured the floor. The place was a mess.