Also by Jenny Kane Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange Winter Fires at Mill Grange SPRING BLOSSOMS AT MILL GRANGE Jenny Kane AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS www.ariafiction.com First published in the United Kingdom in 2021 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd Copyright © Jenny Kane, 2021 The moral right of Jenny Kane to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. E ISBN 9781838938130 PB ISBN 9781800246058 Cover design © Cherie Chapman Aria c/o Head of Zeus First Floor East 5–8 Hardwick Street London EC1R 4RG www.ariafiction.com To secret benches and hidden doorways. Contents Welcome page Copyright Dedication Prologue 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 Chapter Thirty-three Chapter Thirty-four Chapter Thirty-five Chapter Thirty-six Chapter Thirty-seven Chapter Thirty-eight Chapter Thirty-nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-one Chapter Forty-two Chapter Forty-three Chapter Forty-four Chapter Forty-five Chapter Forty-six Chapter Forty-seven Chapter Forty-eight Chapter Forty-nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-one Chapter Fifty-two Chapter Fifty-three Chapter Fifty-four Chapter Fifty-five Chapter Fifty-six Chapter Fifty-seven Chapter Fifty-eight Chapter Fifty-nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-one Epilogue Acknowledgements About the Author Become an Aria Addict Prologue Monday March 9th Helen cradled the stone in her palm. The size of a cookie, grey in colour, it was jagged on one side and smooth on the other. Once upon a time it had been part of the bedrock; a tiny fragment of the geology that had formed the basis of the village of Upwich and its surrounds. Now, however, it felt like the most precious possession she’d ever owned. She hadn’t had the heart to tell Dylan that it wasn’t an exciting find from the Roman fortlet they were excavating in Mill Grange’s garden. The five-year-old had been so thrilled to be able to help his dad, Tom, when they’d peeled the tarpaulin off the archaeological site after a frosty winter, that when he’d picked up the stone and run to her, his face wide with pleasure, she’d held it with a reverence normally reserved for the crown jewels. The boy’s eyes had got wider and wider as she’d told him about the land beneath Exmoor, how it had formed, and how the stone he’d found was part of that. Helen had been conscious of Tom’s eyes on her as his son had sat on her knee and listened with rapt attention to every word she said. Laying the stone back on her desk, tucked neatly in the corner of the store room, Helen sighed. She had come to Mill Grange to take a break from the pressures of her management job. She had not come to fall in love – especially not with Tom – a man with a horrendous track record with woman – and a son. One Monday March 16th ‘Do you honestly think I’ll need eighteen pairs of knickers? It’s the Cotswolds, not the Kalahari.’ Thea scooped the entire contents of her underwear drawer onto the bed as Shaun flung open a suitcase. ‘No, I think you’ll need thirty pairs or more, but as you only have eighteen, then pack them.’ ‘Seriously?’ Thea eyed some of her older undies with suspicion. The greying fabric had been consigned to the back of the drawer to be used in emergencies only, although now she thought about it, she wasn’t sure what that emergency might be. An archaeological excavation in the middle of nowhere, perhaps? ‘You know what it’s like on a dig. Laundry facilities only happen to other people. A flushing toilet can be a luxury sometimes.’ ‘Won’t the local village have a launderette?’ ‘It’s the Cotswolds, Thea. The people who can afford to live there don’t need launderettes.’ Shaun winked. ‘I tend to wring out my smalls in the nearest public toilet sink or a bucket of cold water.’ Thea laughed. ‘I used to do that when I was a student on excavation.’ Stuffing every pair of socks she owned into the suitcase, she added, ‘Age has softened me!’ ‘You’ve got used to manor house living, that’s what it is.’ As Shaun threw a pile of t-shirts onto the bed, he caught a glimpse of anxiety crossing Thea’s face. ‘I was only joking. It’s not like student times. We get a catering truck, posh tents and Portaloos. The only thing we don’t have is regular access to a washing machine.’ Holding a thick jumper to her chest, Thea pulled a face. ‘I’m not worried about knickers or having our own bathroom or anything like that. It’s just… what if the show’s new producer hates me? Phil gave me the job as co-host of Landscape Treasures because of the work I did for you in Cornwall, but the new guy… is it a guy?’ ‘It is. A bloke called Julian Blackwood. I’ve not worked with him before, but I’ve heard he’s good.’ ‘Well, what if this Julian takes one look at me and decides to trade me in for a younger model? I’m thirty-three for goodness sake, that’s ancient in female telly present land.’ ‘Then he’d be a fool. Anyway, that attitude, thank goodness, is gradually dying off. And if he was a “pretty young thing” bloke, rather than a “pretty thirty-something with experience and talent” type of chap, then he’d lose your skills and my respect. Which, as I’m the show’s presenter, would be pretty stupid.’ ‘That’s the other thing.’ ‘What is?’ Shaun threw a mountain of socks into the case, many of which, Thea was convinced she’d never seen before. ‘I don’t want the guest-presenter role just because I’m your partner. Some of the archaeologists are bound to think that’s why I got it. If Phil only gave me the job because—’ Raising a hand to
