Kellie Hailes - The Little Unicorn Gift Shop - A heartwarming romance with a bit of sparkle in 2018!

KELLIE HAILES declared at the age of five that she was going write books when she grew up. It took a while for her to get there, with a career as a radio copywriter, freelance copywriter and web writer filling the dream-hole, until now. Kellie lives on an island-that’s-not-really-an-island in New Zealand with her patient husband, funny little human and neurotic cat. When the characters in her head aren’t dictating their story to her, she can be found taking short walks, eating good cheese and jonesing for her next coffee fix.

The Cosy Coffee Shop of Promises

The Big Little Festival

Christmas at the Second Chance Chocolate Shop

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Kellie Hailes 2018

Kellie Hailes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for 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 e-book 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.

E-book Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008301729

Version: 2018-07-13

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Also by Kellie Hailes

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Read on for a Sneak Peek at Cosy Coffee Shop of Promises…

About the Publisher

For ‘The Manor Girls’. Friends, forever.

An ear-piercing trilling ripped Ben from the soundest sleep he’d had in weeks. His hand blindly scrambled round his bedside table, searching for his phone. Who could be calling at this time of night? He’d collapsed into bed just after midnight, so he knew it had to be late. He peeled open one eye. It was nowhere-near-dawn kind of late if the pitch-blackness in his room was anything to go by. Finding the phone, he squinted against the glare of the screen to see who would be so rude as to ring at such an ungodly hour.

His heart, already thumping from the shock of being yanked out of his sleep, ratcheted up to a worrying state.

Poppy.

Apprehension settled heavy in his stomach. If she was calling at this time of night it couldn’t be for any good reason.

He peered at the screen. Not a phone call, a video call. Well, that ruled out her being in prison, at least. He was pretty sure they still only allowed voice calls.

He glanced at the time. Just gone three. Which made it the afternoon, maybe, if she was still in New Zealand. Though knowing Poppy, she could have tired of the place and moved on to South America, where no doubt she’d be in a jungle hugging a tree in protest of it and its foliage-filled friends being cut down.

He swiped across and watched the internet decide whether it was going to connect him to her or not. A creased forehead and impatient stare gave him his answer.

‘Ben? You there? Ben? Can you hear me?’

Ben clicked the sound down and reminded himself to mute his phone before he went to sleep from now on. ‘I hear you, Poppy.’ He stifled a yawn. ‘Where are you? Are you okay? Are you in trouble? Do you need bail money?’

‘Of course I’m okay.’ Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not a teenager, Ben. You don’t have to keep me from getting into trouble anymore. Not that you could’ve if you wanted to. And bail money? Really? I’ve never been in that kind of trouble. God, dramatic much?’

‘Fair enough. Sorry, Pops, but when I get a call in the middle of the night I fear the worst.’ Ben folded his pillow in half and elbowed his way into a half-sitting position.

‘Fine. Whatever. And turn on your light. It’s weird talking to the black hole of Ben.’

‘Sorry. Forgot you couldn’t see me.’ Ben switched the phone to his other hand, then leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Its golden glow illuminated the small space around him.

‘Geez, Ben, what’ve you been doing?’ Poppy’s hand covered her eyes, her fingers splitting apart to peek through at him. ‘Do you even work these days? Or do you spend all your waking hours at the gym?’

‘Huh?’ Ben peered at the square on the phone to see what Poppy was seeing. ‘Oh, God, sorry, Pops.’ He pulled the sheet up to his armpits. ‘There, all decent.’

Poppy’s hand fell down, a wide grin lifting her cheekbones high as strands of her black hair blew in front of her face. ‘Ugh, blimmin’ wind. It’s so cold I’m amazed my lips haven’t frozen together. I’ll be glad to come home to a bit of warmth.’

Ben straightened up in bed. Had he heard what he thought he’d heard? ‘Come home? What are you on about?’

‘Well, I’ve been travelling for over a decade now. It’s time I returned. I mean, look at this place. It’s freezing. My plane ticket’s all booked.’ She switched the phone’s camera around and moved it slowly, showing him a snow-covered mountain range that sloped down to a tumultuous grey-green sea, its waves crashing onto a beach smothered in time-smoothed stones.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Ben observed. ‘And it gets freezing here too, remember?’

The camera switched back to Poppy. ‘Yeah, but here is not home, and it’s time.’

‘And why are you telling me this, Poppy?’ Ben yawned, not bothering to hide his tiredness. He had a busy day at the office ahead of him tying up loose ends, and he had to make sure his finances were in order for when he viewed the shop he hoped to lease in three days’ time. ‘More importantly, can you make it quick? It’s beyond the middle of the night and I’ve got to get some sleep if I’m going to function like a human being tomorrow.’

‘Fine, fine, Mr Busy Pants.’ Poppy grinned. ‘I just need you to do me a favour and pick me up from Heathrow. I’ll send you through the details.’ She flapped a hand in his direction. ‘Now go back to sleep. Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.’ She blew a kiss and wiggled her fingers in goodbye, before signing off, leaving Ben staring at a Poppy-less screen.

Poppy Taylor was coming home.

An email alert popped up on his screen. He opened it and scanned the contents.

Not only was Poppy Taylor coming home, she was having him pick her up on the day he was meeting with his potential landlord. He worked out the time it would take to drive from Heathrow to Muswell Hill. He could do it. Just. Assuming traffic wasn’t awful.