The Merry Maidens

Dismayed at losing the village pub, Lily’s chance encounter was to be a fresh new start for them all

to greet a sweet little shih tzu who’d dashed out of the gorse. A moment later, a tall man in a check shirt and jeans, jogged after the dog.

“Molly!” he called. “Oh dear, is she being a nuisance?”

“Not at all. She’s very sweet.” Lily crouched down and Molly licked her hand. Biscuit rolled over at the shih tzu’s paws.

“Biscuit is smitten with your dog,” Lily observed.

“She isn’t my dog.”

Lily met his eye. He was strikingly handsome but his expression remained as stony as the Maidens. “Are you looking after her for a friend?”

“Not exactly. She was my great aunt’s dog.” He sighed. “My late aunt.”

“I’m sorry. When did she pass away?” “A couple of months ago. We were close when I was a boy but in recent years, with. Judging by his accent, he wasn’t from Cornwall. “What is this place?” he asked. “I’ve not been here before.”

“The boffins say it’s a Neolithic stone circle, although some people prefer the more romantic legend.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Oh?” “They say the nineteen maidens were local girls who were turned into stone as punishment for dancing on the Sabbath.”

“Dancing on a Sunday.” His dark brown eyes twinkled. “How sinful!”

The brief smile lit up his face like a shaft of sunlight from a cloudy sky. So, he did have a sense of humour.

“I’m Lily, by the way,” she said.

“I’m Toby. Thank you for the poo bags.” “You’re welcome.”

There was a pause. “I’ll be at my aunt’s place for a while. Maybe I’ll see you in the pub sometime?”

Lily’s pleasure at hearing he was staying locally was dampened. “Probably not. I’m afraid it’s closing down tonight.”

“Oh, I see… That’s a shame. Perhaps

I’ll see you out and about with Biscuit?”

They parted. The pub served its last pint and the tearful landlady moved to Bodmin. The doors were locked, the windows shuttered and the beer garden was bereft of laughter and music. Every time Lily passed by, she thought of the silent building and could bear it no more.

She had to do something, even if it was doomed to failure.

With Lulu and Gloria’s help, she swung into action. They did online research, met with the bank, held meetings, spoke with the council and roped in voluntary groups. Lily whipped up publicity for a campaign to buy the freehold of the pub and run it as a community hub.

Yet no For Sale sign appeared, nor could she find any clue to the owner or their plans. Toby proved just as elusive so Lily presumed he and Molly had returned to wherever.

It was now late May. Lily was in shorts and a T-shirt, as she took Biscuit to the stones one evening. Excited yips greeted her when she emerged from the gorse. Toby was standing in the middle of the

“No, but it changed mine.” He hesitated. “I offered to buy her out,” he said. “I persuaded her she’d be waiting years to realise her part of the estate and that the strong community feeling meant the council would be very reluctant to let her convert it to apartments.” He grinned. “So I’ll be the owner of the Maidens and I’m happy to lease it to the village.”

Lily gasped. “That’s very generous!” “Selfish, actually. Molly hates being cooped up in my tiny London flat, and frankly, so do I. Its sale will fund the pub and I can move my business down here.” He grinned again. “I’m an architect. I plan on doing up Naomi’s cottage and – if you want – I can help with your conversion plans for the Merry Maidens.”

Lily was overcome. “I don’t know how to thank you. What do you want in return?”

He laughed. “Nothing. Other than to get to know you better – all of you. I’m not superstitious but that photo was like a final sign telling me to make a change. I haven’t been happy in London for a very long while. Getting to know Molly, the cottage and new faces here…” His warm smile made Lily soar. “Let’s just say, it’s made me eager to pursue exciting new opportunities.”

Aweek later, the Maidens rang with laughter again. Lily, Gloria, Lulu, the Zumba class and half the village were crammed into the room. Cobwebs hung from the light fittings and the panes were grimy but Lily realised it didn’t matter. It wasn’t the bricks and mortar that made a building the heart the community, it was the people: from those who’d lived there all their lives to the newest incomer.

Toby stood behind the bar. The pumps weren’t working so they’d had to buy in the beer but he lifted his pint high. “To the Merry Maidens!” he declared.

Everyone raised their glasses. “The Merry Maidens!”

Toby looked straight at Lily. “And a new start for all of us.”

She returned his gaze and her heart danced, knowing that it wasn’t only the pub that would have a fresh lease of life this summer.

Phillipa Ashley’s new romantic and uplifting novel, A Perfect Cornish Escape, Avon, £7.99, publishes in all formats on June 11.

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