Snow is Falling, page 1
SNOW IS FALLING
SARAH BENNETT
For Charlie, I hope you enjoy your cameo x
CONTENTS
Character List
Prologue
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
Epilogue
More from Sarah Bennett
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Sarah Bennett
About Boldwood Books
CHARACTER LIST
The Travers Family
Montague ‘Monty’ Travers Patriarch of the Travers family and current Baron. More interested in travelling the world in his old camper van than accepting his responsibilities.
Alice Travers The matriarch of the Travers family. Married to Monty.
Ziggy Travers Twin brother of Zap. Manager of the Juniper Meadows estate. Current heir to the Barony by a matter of minutes. Recently reunited with his first love, Daisy Riley.
Zap Travers Married to Rowena. Father of Rhys. Twin brother of Ziggy and second in line to the Barony. Brew master at the Juniper Meadows distillery. Good with hugs.
Stevie Travers Mother to Hope and Ben. Sister to Ziggy, Zap and Dylan. Manages the hotel side of the Juniper Meadows Hotel and Spa.
Dylan Travers Youngest of the Travers siblings. Hero of Snow is Falling.
Rowena Travers Mother of Rhys, married to Zap. Runs the spa side of the Juniper Meadows Hotel and Spa and also an accomplished artist. Fond of a kaftan.
Rhys Travers Son of Zap and Rowena, cousin to Hope and Ben. Runs the farm at Juniper Meadows. Third in line to the Barony. Hero of Come Rain or Shine.
Hope Travers Daughter of Stevie, sister of Ben. Manages many of the day-to-day tasks on the Juniper Meadows estate. Girlfriend of Cameron Ferguson and heroine of Where We Belong.
Ben Lawson Stevie’s eldest child, Hope’s brother. Former accountant and now aspiring potter. Lives with Amelia Riley in a small cottage on the Juniper Meadows estate. Hero of In From the Cold.
Theo Travers Dylan’s sixteen-year-old son.
Avery Travers Dylan’s fourteen-year-old daughter.
Cameron Ferguson Archaeology lecturer at the local university. Boyfriend of Hope Travers and hero of Where We Belong.
Amelia Riley Local resident and aspiring artist. Hope’s best friend. Lives with Ben Lawson in a little cottage on the Juniper Meadows estate. Heroine of In From the Cold.
Daisy Riley Amelia’s mother. Separated from her husband, Keith, and living with Ziggy Travers.
Tasha Clarke Runs the camping and glamping business at Juniper Meadows. Girlfriend of Rhys Travers and heroine of Come Rain or Shine.
Hercule Brussels Griffon terrier, owned by Zap Travers. Top dog of the Travers pack.
Samson Working sheepdog owned by Rhys Travers. A very good boy.
Delilah Miniature dachshund belonging to Rhys Travers. A pampered princess.
Sooty Black Labrador puppy owned by Hope Travers. A sweet, but not always very-good boy.
Sweep Black Labrador puppy owned by Hope Travers. Also a sweet, but not always very-good boy.
Pepper A dalmatian puppy. Owned by Ben Travers.
The Bingham Family
Sadie Bingham Recently taken early retirement so she can go travelling with her husband. Heroine of Snow is Falling.
Pete Bingham Sadie’s husband. Ready to retire and go biking down Route 66.
Jake Bingham Sadie and Pete’s son. Married to Rachel, father to Robbie and Zac.
Katie Jenkins Sadie and Pete’s daughter. Married to Liam, mother to Isla.
Rachel Bingham Married to Jake, mother to Robbie and Zac.
Liam Jenkins Married to Katie, father to Isla.
Robbie Bingham Jake and Rachel’s elder son.
Zac Bingham Jake and Rachel’s younger son.
Isla Jenkins Rachel and Liam’s daughter.
Margaret Dunlop Sadie’s mother.
Celia Walsh Margaret’s sister.
Other Characters
Jennifer (Jen) Dylan’s ex-wife, mother of Theo and Avery. Engaged to Eric.
Eric Jen’s fiancé.
Frank Jen’s father.
Nancy Jen’s mother.
Oscar, Harry and Gemma All work for Pete Bingham.
Charlie, Anna and Jane Three friends on a pre-Christmas break at Juniper Meadows.
Tara and Jon Staying at Juniper Meadows and visiting family nearby.
Marcus A lonely widower staying at Juniper Meadows.
Barry A competitive game player and guest at Juniper Meadows.
Lydia Caster-Hardwicke Friend of the Travers family, runs events for high-profile clients.
Justin Porter at Juniper Meadows hotel.
Penny and Sandra Run the café at Juniper Meadows.
Carrie-Ann Runs a silversmith’s workshop at The Old Stable Yard.
Denny and Jos Farm workers at Juniper Meadows.
Graham Estate maintenance manager at Juniper Meadows.
Iain Landlord of The Stourton Arms.
Joe and Martha Run the local village shop.
Debbie Holiday rep at HappyHols.
Jim and Grace Carol singers.
Murder-Mystery night players
Inspector Turtle Hot-shot young crime solver.
Sergeant Dove Luke-warm older crime solver.
Millicent ‘Millie the minx’ Former showgirl and girlfriend of the Duke.
The Duke of Nortington Very recently deceased.
Dickie, Lord Monckton Heir to the Duke.
PROLOGUE
SPRING
‘Thank you for holding. Your call is important to us. We are experiencing higher than usual call volumes at the moment.’
‘Aren’t you always?’ Sadie Bingham cast a baleful look at her phone resting on the desk beside her laptop. A fresh breeze carried the scent of early honeysuckle through the open window and she closed her eyes and let the sweet scent calm her irritation. It was one of those warm spring days that made you throw open all the windows to blow away the cobwebs.
The recorded message continued. ‘To avoid the wait, did you know you can search for availability and make a booking online by visiting our website, w-w-w-dot-happyhols-dot-com? If you already have a booking, you will be able to access the most up-to-date information by logging into your account.’
‘I can’t bloody log in to my account though,’ Sadie told her phone through gritted teeth as the message ended and was replaced by an instrumental version of Kylie’s ‘I Should Be So Lucky’ that was so tinny it sounded as if it were coming from the depths of a metal dustbin. ‘I should be so lucky if you ever answer the pho-o-o-o-one,’ Sadie sang along to the tune as she tried logging into her husband Pete’s account for the umpteenth time that morning.
Password not recognised
With a groan, Sadie sent an imploring glance at her phone. How much longer, for goodness’ sake? She had so much she wanted to get sorted out today, not least tackling the ironing pile on the bed so she could start setting aside the things she wanted to pack for their holiday. She could message Pete and ask him if he’d changed the password but he was up to his eyes at work. After nearly twenty-five years at the same company they still seemed as determined to squeeze out every last hour from him. It was one of the many reasons he’d finally made the decision to take early retirement in the run-up to his sixtieth birthday. At fifty-five, Sadie wasn’t sure she was quite as ready to give up work, but Pete had wanted to kick the next phase of their lives off with a bang. If she got fed up there was no reason she couldn’t look for a part-time job in the future.
She just wished he’d left the organisation to her, especially when Sadie managed all of their other home admin. Everything was usually set up in her name, but this trip was Pete’s dream and he’d done all the research so it had made sense for him to sort out the initial booking. Cruising down Route 66 on a massive touring motorbike wasn’t Sadie’s first choice when it came to modes of transport, but he had his heart set on it and there’d be plenty of time over the coming years for the luxury cruises and country house hotel breaks that were more her style. Pete had worked hard to give them a lovely life so Sadie was determined to embrace the adventure. She figured the motorbike trip was like the BMW convertible he’d bought last year – an attempt to ward off the creeping feeling of age. Her own efforts might be less flashy and ostentatious but, as he’d pointed out, if you added up the years of expensive hair appointments and spa treatments then they probably came out about even. Sadie just wished the car seats were a little less low slung so she didn’t feel like an ungainly lump as she hauled herself up out of them. Plus she looked less like Grace Kelly and more like Hilda Ogden when she used a headscarf to protect her hair from the wind .
The recorded message started again and Sadie let out a little scream. She was going to be stuck in this loop forever.
‘Hello, Happy Hols! Debbie speaking, how may I help you? Hello?’
Sadie snatched her phone up, hoping desperately that the woman on the other end hadn’t heard her. ‘I’m here! Sorry, I… umm, I have a booking with you, well, my husband has a booking with you, and I’m trying to print off the itinerary and tickets but I can’t seem to log in.’
‘Let me see if I can help you. Do you have a booking reference?’
Sadie consulted her notebook. ‘Yes, it’s BL7448097A, in the name of Bingham.’
There was silence apart from the faint sound of a keyboard clicking and then Debbie spoke again. ‘And are you one of the passengers travelling on the booking?’
‘Yes. As I said, the booking was originally set up by my husband but he’s really busy at work so I’m just trying to get things organised.’
‘I’ll need to check what details are on the booking. Can you give me your full name, please?’
‘Oh, yes, sorry.’ Sadie rolled her eyes. She hated the way she apologised all the time. It was a habit she’d been trying to break for a while, but she fell back into it whenever she got flustered. ‘It’s Sadie Elizabeth Bingham. Do you need my date of birth as well?’
The keyboard click-clacked and then Debbie cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry, but your name doesn’t match either of the ones on the booking so I can’t continue with your enquiry.’
Not on the booking? ‘I think there must be some mistake – perhaps you’re looking at the wrong one. The lead passenger should be Peter Albert Bingham and I’m Sadie S-A-D-I-E. The reference is BL7448—’
‘—097A,’ Debbie finished the reference before Sadie could. ‘As I said, I’m afraid I don’t have your details on the booking so I’m unable to discuss it further.’
Was that a slight hesitation in the way she’d said ‘your’? Sadie shivered as if a ghost of premonition had trailed its fingers down her spine. ‘But you have Pete’s name on there?’
The warmth in Debbie’s tone had chilled to something almost robotic. ‘If you think there’s a problem with this booking, may I suggest you get the person who gave you that reference to contact us? Under our data protection rules I’m afraid I can only speak to them. Is there anything else I can assist you with?’
Sadie shook her head, before catching herself. ‘No, no, that’s fine. I’ll speak to Pete when he gets home. I’m sorry to have bothered you.’
‘Thank you for calling Happy Hols, goodbye!’
The phone went dead. Sadie stared down at the reference number Pete had given her. She’d had to badger him for even that much, her requests for more information batted away with irritated comments that he had everything in hand and for Sadie to stop fussing.
Stop fussing.
His use of that phrase had stopped her in her tracks. She’d put it down to the stress of trying to get everything at work tied up before he retired, making an excuse for what had to be a slip of the tongue because she hadn’t been able to believe he’d say those words to her otherwise. Not when he knew full well they were part of the arsenal her mother wielded against her.
Margaret Dunlop was a bully; there was no way of sugar-coating it. She had picked and poked and undermined her husband until he’d withdrawn from the battlefield of their marriage, retreating behind a beautiful brick wall of art and literature. With her main opponent refusing to engage, Margaret had switched her attention to Sadie. Too young to understand the ugly dynamics of her childhood, Sadie had taken those bitter snipes and criticisms very much to heart. It had taken Sadie a long time to work out that it didn’t matter what or how she did something, in her mother’s eyes she would always be in the wrong. Pete had been the one who’d helped her realise the truth, encouraging her to break away from her parents. But Sadie had loved her dad as much as she had feared her mum. Even understanding his failure to protect her, Sadie had wanted his quiet presence in her life until he’d passed away a few years ago. Losing him might have softened some people, but it had seemed only to embitter Margaret further. Pete had told Sadie to cut her loose and even their children had urged her to distance herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The trip to America would be a welcome escape from the self-imposed obligation of hosting her mother for lunch every other Sunday. Not that she’d told her they were going away yet.
The thought of how Margaret would react to the news was enough to drive Sadie into action. She couldn’t do anything about the strange call to Happy Hols until Pete got home, but there were plenty of other things she could be getting on with, starting with that ironing pile in the spare room.
Sadie set herself up in the lounge, placing the ironing board in front of the TV and scrolling through the planner to find the next episode of the boxset she’d been watching. It was the third series and she’d given up waiting to watch it with Pete. He was always too tired these days to want to do much more than watch whatever was on Sky Sports Main Event. Honestly, the sooner he retired, the better.
She was halfway through the first episode, the same shirt she’d started with still a wrinkled sleeve short of being finished, when her mobile phone beeped. With a pang of guilt, Sadie paused the TV and picked up her phone. It was a message from Pete:
Usual bloody panic before tomorrow’s board meeting so it’s going to be a late one. Don’t wait on me for dinner. P.
Sadie blew out a frustrated breath as she tossed her phone onto the sofa. She made it halfway back towards the ironing board before she changed her mind and returned to retrieve her phone. She called Pete’s number, surprised when it went straight to voicemail. Even when he was busy he usually picked up long enough to say hello.
She waited for the beep, then spoke. ‘Hi, only me. I haven’t thought about dinner yet so just wondered if you meant I should make something for myself or if you want me to put a plate in the oven for whatever time you get back.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to mention the odd call with Happy Hols, but she decided against it. He didn’t need the distraction. ‘Anyway, give me a call or text when you get this and don’t work too hard. They’ll have to learn to manage without you soon enough!’
She regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, but it was too late to take them back. Pete was under enough pressure without her adding to it by nagging him for being dedicated to the last. Maybe she should make something special for dinner. There was some red wine left over from Sunday lunch – she could make a nice beef bourguignon. It would be easy for Pete to heat up and he’d need something substantial after a long day. Yes, she’d do that, once she’d finished the ironing, of course.
By quarter to five, the ironing was all done and the house was filled with the rich scent of the casserole but there was still no word from Pete. She’d had a shower and changed into a not-quite-pyjamas combo of yoga pants and an old T-shirt. Heading into the kitchen, Sadie lifted the heavy cast-iron Le Creuset pot out of the oven using a tea towel to protect her hands, and gave the bourguignon a stir as she thought about what to serve with it. There were roast potatoes in the freezer. She could do enough for two in the air fryer, but Pete was on a no-carbs kick and had even skipped them with his roast dinner on Sunday. That meant rice was also off the menu. She pulled open the cupboard next to the oven and surveyed the contents before closing it with a huff. If it were up to her, she’d have the potatoes and a couple of slices of bread to mop up the gravy and do a couple of extra miles on the exercise bike as penance. Rather than fretting about it, why didn’t she just ask him?
