- Author: Polly Babbington
Book online «Winter at Pretty Beach Polly Babbington (best novels to read txt) 📖». Author Polly Babbington
Hi, I’m Polly Babbington and I love to write.
I live with my husband and family in a beautiful old Edwardian house by the sea, with white French windows, a huge old tree out the back and a Summer House right down the end of the garden where I spend long days spinning stories and drinking tea.
I began writing years ago working for various online publications, my work published worldwide and started writing and publishing books not long after, juggling the stories in my head with bringing up babies.
These days I potter around the house writing, taking care of my family, and plotting my next feel-good romance stories, ready to launch them out into the world to my lovely readers.
I also love flowers, taking photos, cooking, walking in the woods, sitting on the beach, pottering with things in the house and love nothing better after a day of writing than an evening gardening with a drink.
You’ll find me on my days off lazing in the hammock under the fruit tree, or cosy on the sofa next to the fire, with a cup of tea and a new book.
We live in a sweet little village complete with a gorgeous old cricket pitch, village green with a few lovely old pubs.
Follow Polly on Instagram and Facebook @PollyBabbingtonwrites
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© Copyright 2020 Polly Babbington
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Sallie Broadchurch opened up the French doors of the Boat House, stepped out into the icy air, and looked out across Pretty Beach. Sparkling frost topped the edges of the jetty, glinted from the masts of the boats and shimmered off the roof of the boathouse cottage next door.
‘Ben, come here! I think it’s coming, just like we wanted,’ she called out from the deck.
‘What’s coming?’ Ben called back from the hallway as he tidied up his work bag and put his pilot’s hat back on the hook.
‘Come and look out here.’ Sallie stood on the tiny little deck in the cold air and looked out over the rooftops of Pretty Beach, her eyes taking in the thick, heavy, grey-white clouds and the silvery rays of light poking through the gaps in the clouds.
‘It’s on the way, I can feel it. Snow, Ben, snow. I can’t wait. I love it!’ She clasped her hands together and leant onto the railing looking out to the sea and the lighthouse beyond.
‘The longer I’m with you the crazier you get,’ Ben said, shaking his head and blowing warm air onto his hands and heading back in.
‘Well, I’m no spring chicken, and the older I’m getting the crazier I am, so you’ve lots of fun ahead of you! You knew that when you begged me to meet you at the top of the aisle,’ Sallie said, winking then laughed and stood there taking in huge lungfuls of the crisp, cold, air.
‘I’m so excited, the first snowfall is magical - brrr it’s freezing though.’ She rubbed her hands up and down on her arms and came inside, closing the doors and putting the throw she’d pulled around her shoulders back on the sofa. Ben was examining his phone - he had quite the obsession with weather maps, something to do with being a pilot she assumed.
‘You’re actually correct Sals. This storm’s really coming in thick and fast. Maybe you really can feel snow.’ He looked concerned. ‘We haven’t had a big storm here for a long time, the last one caused loads of damage - the school closed, the road in was blocked by fallen cables and all the flights were cancelled. I had to dig a path out to the laneway just to go out and get bread.’
She looked back at him as he stood there studying his phone and expanding it so he could further see the map. Sallie didn’t like that side of snow - she preferred to focus on the fluffy, pretty, sparkly bit, where she wrapped up in big scarves, boots and mittens, made soup and baked bread and sausage rolls.
‘I’d better go down and check on the planes, make sure everything is secure. I hope the marquee survives - if it’s a heavy snowfall the weight on the top of that could be a problem.’
Trust Ben to be all pragmatic and business-like. Here she was fantasising about snow on the beach, the little boats bobbing around topped in white, hot chocolate and marshmallows by the fire and which cosy jumper she would wrap up in, and Ben was thinking about the actual real-life consequences of it all.
He was right though; they would need to walk over and check on the Orangery - but first she was going to pop some of her cheesy sausage rolls into the oven, make herself a nice cup of tea and sit down and plan what online yoga class she was going to take that night. A yin yoga class, rugged up indoors with candles by the fire and a snowstorm outside with a view out over a snowy Pretty Beach. What a combination - snow, wine, yoga and the beach.
Sallie sat with her marshmallow-topped hot chocolate at one of the little tables in Maisy’s cafe, jingled the play keys on the top of