Page 6 of New Beginnings on Railway Lane

Thankfully, she was able to find a taxi and make the last ten miles of her long journey in relative comfort. Katy was a bit concerned that perhaps the driver didn’t know where he was going as they kept heading down narrow country lanes. But finally they passed a small sign announcing that they had arrived in Cranfield.

Her relief was short-lived, however. She had heard of country retreats, but this was ridiculous. It was a tiny village full of absolutely nothing but about fifty sandy-coloured brick houses with the occasional thatched roof. It was all very pretty, but there were no shops, no markings on the road and on either side were long rows of fences with fields beyond. The countryside, she thought with a grimace.

Despite the beauty of the autumnal colours along the hedgerows, it was her least favourite place. She had grown up in urban cities. The countryside was messy and filled with all manner of scary things. She shuddered at the thought of being out there amongst so much nature.

Katy’s heart sank further as the taxi pulled up in front of the large building at the end of the lane which had a faded British Rail sign for Cranfield Station on the wall outside.

She peered through the windscreen in dismay. It was the same pretty coloured brick as the rest of the village, but, apart from that, there was no denying that the whole station had an air of shabbiness about it. The window frames and doors were cracked and peeling. There were broken poster boxes just about hanging on to the wall at alarming angles. The wooden bench outside looked as if it would collapse if a small puff of wind blew over it. It was dismal and Katy felt the same way as she got out of the taxi.

It most definitely was not a bijou hotel. Or if it was, it was a very run-down one without many happy guests, she thought.

For a second, she hesitated about whether just to get back into the taxi and leave. But then she decided that she would just treat the whole thing as a practice interview. After all, she prided herself on her professionalism.

She shivered a little in the cool wind whipping up Railway Lane as she stepped up to the front door of the station. She gave a sharp rap on the door and waited. Then she knocked and waited some more before glancing at her watch. She was five minutes early, but surely someone was here?

‘You won’t get any answer there,’ said a voice nearby.

She spun around to find an elderly gentleman standing at the end of the building. He was around eighty years old and tall, with a lot of grey fluffy hair and eyebrows. But most significant of all was the filthy blue overalls he was wearing. She guessed he was some kind of handyman.

Katy took a small step backwards as he headed towards her, glancing down nervously at her expensive black suit and crisp white shirt underneath.

‘I see,’ she replied. ‘Do you happen to know where Mr Connolly is?’

‘He’s standing right in front of you,’ the man told her with a chuckle.

‘Oh!’ Katy took a second to mask her shock before reluctantly holding out her hand. ‘Mr Connolly, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Katy Smith.’

‘Pleasure’s all mine, love,’ he said, taking her hand in his filthy one and giving it a hearty shake. ‘And please, call me Eddie.’

The elderly gentleman certainly didn’t look like the owner of a sought-after hotel, she thought, glancing in dismay at her oil-smeared hand.

Eddie broke into a beaming smile. ‘Well then, Katy Smith. What can I do for you?’

‘I’m here for the job interview,’ she replied, by now wondering whether she was still dreaming.

‘A job interview?’ said Eddie, looking astonished. ‘I don’t know anything about a job interview!'

Shocked, Katy brought out her phone and looked at the email. ‘It says here that I’m to meet a Mr Connolly at 2 p.m. at this address.’

Had the whole day been some kind of ghastly mistake? she wondered, with a soft groan.

‘That would be me, Grandad.’

They both spun around, whereupon Katy saw a man in his early thirties walking along the side of the building towards them. Her first thought was that he was as tall as his grandad.

Her second thought was that he was good-looking and, thankfully, not wearing a filthy overall covered in grease and who knew what. He had dark hair and was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

Her last thought was that he looked to be extremely grumpy and the target of his bad mood appeared to be her.

‘I’m Ryan Connolly. Welcome to Cranfield Station,’ he told her, before they exchanged a firm handshake. He immediately looked down at his hand, which was now greasy, and added, ‘I can see you’ve already met my grandad! Let’s get this charade over with, shall we?’

Charade? Katy gave a start at the word. What on earth had she got herself into?

As they continued to look at each other with disbelief, Katy decided that the whole day was obviously going to be a complete disaster and promised herself that she would never drink any alcohol ever again.

4

Ryan tried not to stare in shock at the woman in front of him.