Bella Osborne - Coming Home to Ottercombe Bay - The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year

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Ottercombe Bay was originally published as a four-part serial. This is the complete story in one package.‘Bella Osborne has such a nice touch with description that I was utterly charmed by Ottercombe Bay’ Sue Moorcroft‘Absolutely brilliant. It's funny, heartwarming, entertaining and I couldn't put it down. It's exactly what you need if you want a delightful summer read’ Phillipa AshleyDaisy Wickens has returned to Ottercombe Bay, the picturesque Devon town where her mother died when she was a girl. She plans to leave as soon as her great uncle’s funeral is over, but Great Uncle Reg had other ideas. He’s left Daisy a significant inheritance – an old building in a state of disrepair, which could offer exciting possibilities, but to get it she must stay in Ottercombe Bay for twelve whole months.With the help of a cast of quirky locals, a few gin cocktails and a black pug with plenty of attitude, Daisy might just turn this into something special. But can she ever hope to be happy among the ghosts of her past?Authors and readers love Bella Osborne’s gorgeous novels:‘I really enjoy Bella Osborne’s books’ – Katie Fforde‘A warm and engaging story with relatable characters who will worm their way into your heart. A great read!’ – Talli Roland‘Loved it! Believable characters, a sweetly told, lovely story… a great read’ – Jane Lovering‘Romance, comedy, and mystery abound in this delightful British novel’ – I Read That Book!‘A great read, with some really special moments… so beautiful and romantic’ – Annie’s Book Corner‘A well-written and charming tale.’ – Paris Baker’s Book Nook'Makes me feel like I should be reading it while wearing a tea dress, drinking posh coffee from a china cup and eating Victoria sandwich cake with a dainty little fork. It's charming, adorable, amusing and all those sorts of words' – Escape Into Words

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Before she realised it, Daisy was deep in conversation as the memories flooded back. And for a change they were pleasant ones she was happy to recall. Time seemed to whizz by and Daisy was vaguely aware Aunt Coral was now walking around wearing pyjamas. She checked her watch, causing Tamsyn to look at the kitchen clock.

‘Crikey it’s late,’ said Tamsyn, making Daisy grin at the old-fashioned turn of phrase. ‘Mum and Dad will be wondering where I am.’ Getting to her feet Tamsyn gave Daisy another huge hug. ‘I am pleased you’re home,’ she added, then turned to Aunt Coral and kissed her cheek. ‘Bye. See you tomorrow.’

‘Yes, thanks Tamsyn.’

‘Tomorrow?’ asked Daisy as the sound of the porch door being vigorously shoved announced Tamsyn’s departure.

‘She comes around most days.’

‘Doesn’t she work?’

‘Oh yes, good little worker is Tamsyn, but it’s all a bit erratic at the beach café. They have school kids working there in the summer, pay them next to nothing and only have poor Tamsyn for the lunchtime rush.’

Daisy pondered this. She’d always thought her lack of being able to land a decent job was because of her frequent moves but it seemed even if she’d stayed locally she’d have been no better off. Her thoughts were invaded by a disgruntled-looking Bugsy rushing into the kitchen. He marched up to Daisy and shook himself. Daisy offered him a finger to sniff and he promptly wiped his nose on it.

‘Ew!’ Daisy recoiled, pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her hand. Bugsy looked quite pleased with himself, he even gave a brief wag of his curly tail before he turned around and presented Daisy with his bum.

‘Right, I’m off to bed,’ said Aunt Coral, picking up the dog. ‘It is lovely to have you back even if it’s only for a few days.’

‘Oh yeah, that reminds me. What were you saying about me not being able to leave after the funeral?’

Aunt Coral’s eyebrows danced. ‘Oh yes. You need to stay for the reading of the will. Great Uncle Reg has left you something substantial – that was what the solicitor said. Night, love, see you in the morning.’ And with a fleeting kiss on the top of Daisy’s head she disappeared upstairs.

Chapter Two

Daisy was woken by something scratching at her door. She was coming round, whilst wondering where she was, when the bedroom door sprung open and something burst in. Daisy leapt in fright but quickly realised it was only Bugsy. At virtually the same time the dog seemed to spot who was in the bed. He snorted his disgust and strutted out of the room. It seemed Bugsy’s wake-up calls would be a disadvantage of having a bedroom on the ground floor.

It was Monday morning, the day of the funeral. She had tried to talk to Aunt Coral about the will yesterday but she didn’t know anything more than she’d already shared except to say Daisy’s father, Ray, hadn’t been left anything because Reg had helped him out financially in the past and Ray had agreed he’d already had his fair share of any inheritance. This in itself had been a revelation to Daisy, but looking back her father had rarely had a stable job while she’d been growing up so the money they had lived on must have come from somewhere. Reg had always been generous to a fault, one of the many things she’d loved and admired about him.

She wondered what Great Uncle Reg had left her in his will. She thought back to the last time she’d seen him, it had been almost three years ago, shortly after she dropped out of university for the second time and she felt a twinge of guilt. He had seemed full of life despite his advancing years. She recalled his mane of grey hair and wayward beard that always seemed at odds with his otherwise smart appearance, which invariably included a cravat. He’d said something to her then about securing her future but she hadn’t paid much attention – she now wished she had, the suspense was killing her.

A light tap on the door pulled her from her thoughts. ‘Good morning. I’m glad you’re awake. Tamsyn will be here shortly and we’ve got a truckful of sandwiches to make for the wake,’ said Aunt Coral. ‘Or “pallbearers party” as Reg liked to call it,’ she added with a chuckle before she disappeared into the kitchen.

The truckful of sandwiches was no joke, because shortly after Daisy was up to her elbows in a buttery production line whilst Tamsyn did her best to update her on who she may know at the funeral.

‘You remember Max, don’t you?’ she asked.

Daisy jutted out her lip and slapped a piece of ham on the buttered bread Aunt Coral had just handed her. ‘Not sure.’ But even as she said it a picture of a cider-fuelled teenage snogging fest loomed ugly in her mind. Whilst she had left Ottercombe Bay at seven years old she had returned each year for a two-week holiday, giving her a snapshot of the life she’d been pulled away from.

‘You doooo,’ said Tamsyn. ‘Max Davey, he never tucked his shirt in.’

‘Sounds like every boy at primary school to me.’

‘Jason Fenton, remember him?’

Daisy paused with a slice of ham held aloft. ‘Skinny kid, played with trains at break time?’

‘Yes. That’s him. He’s a policeman now,’ said Tamsyn, with a firm bob of her head.

‘Wow, well done Jason. Why would Jason and this Max be coming to my great uncle’s funeral?’

Tamsyn opened her mouth but Aunt Coral was already on the case. ‘They’re both lifeboat crew and your great uncle supported the lifeboat his whole life. He was Lifeboat Operations Manager for many years,’ said Aunt Coral proudly. ‘Max and Jason both used to meet him for a coffee once in a while to hear his stories.’ She paused briefly mid-spread with her buttered knife aloft. ‘There’s lots of people in this town who are going to miss him.’

Daisy patted her arm, Aunt Coral gave her a wan smile and returned to spreading.

Daisy shed a few tears during the service but overall the funeral was surprisingly cheerful, which reflected Reg’s personality. A few people told their favourite stories of Reg – one of them involving a donkey and a top hat, which had them all belly laughing – so as everyone filed out of church most of them were smiling, which was exactly what Reg would have wanted.

Daisy studied the floral tributes and wondered who all these people were who knew her great uncle but who she’d never heard of, especially some calling themselves Bunny and Toots.

‘Hi … again,’ said a deep voice behind her. Daisy turned to see a ruggedly handsome young man. ‘I’m sorry Reg died, he was a sound bloke. You okay, Daisy?’

‘Hi …’ She paused where his name should go as a cavalcade of memories bombarded her.

He twitched his head. ‘Don’t remember me? For one thing, I stopped you riding your bike through the carnival procession on Saturday. Prevented a potential massacre, I reckon,’ he said, his local accent soft and barely noticeable.

‘Ah, yes,’ said Daisy feeling more than a little embarrassed at her behaviour that night. ‘Sorry about that.’ He didn’t look half as aggressive now, with his hair groomed and wearing a smart shirt and tie although he kept running his finger around his collar giving the impression he wasn’t very comfortable in the outfit. ‘You’re Max. You were the boy who always had his shirt untucked at school.’ She was keen to avoid reminding him about their teenage antics.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘Yep, that’d be me, all right.’

‘And you were friends with my great uncle?’ It still seemed an odd pairing to Daisy.

‘Yeah, me and Reg used to catch up from time to time. I’ll remember him fondly.’

The look in Max’s eye intrigued her. ‘What will you remember most about him?’

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