Praise for Phillipa Ashley

  ‘This summer’s essential read’

  —Milly Johnson

  ‘This book is like a warm summer breeze’

  —Kate Rhodes

  ‘Delightful’

  —Veronica Henry

  ‘Filled with warm and likeable characters. Great fun!’

  —Jill Mansell

  ‘Gloriously uplifting and unashamedly warm-hearted’

  —Faith Hogan

  ‘Full of genuine warmth and quirky characters’

  —Woman’s Own

  ‘A lovely, summery read full of secrets and hope’

  —Jo Thomas

  Also by Phillipa Ashley

  Decent Exposure

  Wish You Were Here

  Just Say Yes

  It Should Have Been Me

  Fever Cure

  Return to Cornish Bay

  The Little Deli by the Lake

  Summer at the Cornish Café

  Christmas at the Cornish Café

  Confetti at the Cornish Café

  Christmas on the Little Cornish Isles

  Spring on the Little Cornish Isles

  Escape to the Little Cornish Isles

  A Perfect Cornish Summer

  A Perfect Cornish Christmas

  A Perfect Cornish Escape

  A Surprise Christmas Wedding

  An Endless Cornish Summer

  A Special Cornish Christmas

  A Golden Cornish Summer

  The Christmas Holiday

  A Secret Cornish Summer

  Four Weddings and a Christmas

  Second Chance Summer

  Escape for Christmas

  One Cornish Summer with You

  All We Want for Christmas

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2026 by Phillipa Ashley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Amazon Original Stories, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Amazon Original Stories are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  eISBN: 9781662539169

  Cover design by Will Speed

  Cover illustration by Gustaf Hjalmars

  With thanks to editors Maisie Lawrence and Victoria Oundjian and my agent Broo Doherty

  Contents

  Chapter One: Jenna – Land’s End, Cornwall 874 miles apart

  Chapter Two: Cameron

  Chapter Three: Jenna

  Chapter Four: Cameron

  Chapter Five: Jenna

  Chapter Six: Cameron

  Chapter Seven: Jenna

  Chapter Eight: Cameron

  Chapter Nine: Jenna

  Chapter Ten: Cameron 1,014 miles to go

  Chapter Eleven: Jenna 513 miles to go

  Chapter Twelve: Cameron 98 miles to go

  Chapter Thirteen: Jenna 15 miles to go

  Chapter Fourteen: Jenna and Cam

  Preview: A Wedding Under the Cornish Sky

  Chapter One: Five years ago

  About the Author

  Follow the Author on Amazon

  Chapter One

  Jenna

  Land’s End, Cornwall

  874 miles apart

  Sorry. Hold on. Wee issue with the camera again.’

  ‘Oh, no. The Cam cam again? Who’d have thought it! Can you call Tech?’

  ‘Ha ha. Of course I can call Tech. I have a whole Google-HQ-sized department of techies waiting for me to call because I can’t get the video to work.’

  Jenna tried not to laugh. She’d been video-calling Cameron Munro several times a week for ages. They both worked for the not-for-profit organisation End-to-End, helping walkers and cyclists undertake the longest route in the United Kingdom – from the very top of Scotland to England’s south-westerly tip – to raise money for charity.

  Jenna was based in the Land’s End head office at the ‘toe’ of Cornwall, while Cameron lived in the village of John O’Groats, in the far northern tip of Scotland. Helping people to make this challenging journey and raise awareness for the good causes and charities they supported made Jenna happier than almost anything.

  Approximately twenty per cent of their calls began with Cam’s voice emerging from her laptop screen, usually frustrated, sometimes resigned – but always sexy. Not that she would ever dream of telling him, or anyone else, that she found his Highlands accent sexy. It would be highly inappropriate in the circumstances, even if every syllable conjured up images of rugged moorland, granite rocks covered in velvety lichen and soft rain falling as an autumn day drew to a close.

  ‘Sh—’ Cameron bit back the expletive and Jenna could hear furious tapping from the laptop. ‘Aha! All righty. Here I am. Sorry for the scruffy appearance. I literally just got back from a run.’

  ‘Literally?’ Jenna raised her eyebrows.

  Cameron blinked at her from the screen, shoving a damp lock of toffee-brown hair off his face. ‘Yes. Obviously I’ve had a shower first, otherwise it would have been weird. I was all sweaty.’

  All sweaty. Hmm. Jenna rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know why you bothered. Teams hasn’t created a multisensory video call function yet, as far as I know.’

  ‘Thank God.’

  He peered into the camera, treating her to a close-up of the light sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

  ‘Um. Jenna.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You have – um – some cream on the end of your nose.’

  ‘What?’ Jenna grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed hastily at the tip of her nose. ‘Sorry. Very unprofessional of me. The boss bought us all 99 ice cream cones to celebrate the Big Teddy Bear Hike to support the hospice in Cardiff. They raised over fifty grand and were delighted with the feature we got on breakfast telly.’

  ‘I saw it. Great result and lucky you. No one bought me anything to celebrate and besides, I’ve no boss and it’s not ice cream weather. It’s lashing down outside and blowing a hoolie. It’s more like December than late May.’

  ‘Oh. It’s quite breezy here, but it always is. Being Land’s End, of course,’ Jenna added. ‘I’ll send you a virtual ice cream up to Scotland anyway.’

  ‘A virtual hot chocolate might be a better idea. With a dram in it.’

  Jenna laughed. Cam gave his trademark lopsided, half-ironic smile. They chatted a little more about the weather, how the bluebells were almost finished in Cornwall while Scottish primroses had just begun to show their yellow faces on the wild moorland around John O’Groats.

  Then they moved on to the purpose of the call: updates on the current End-to-End challenges they were coordinating. The iconic route was officially 874 miles by motorway, but many people taking on the challenge followed the scenic route, which increased the distance to well over a thousand miles.

  Some ran, some walked. On foot, it took two to three months along rugged trails and country roads, though a keen runner had once done it in under ten days.

  Others chose to bike, usually spending two to three bum-numbing weeks in the saddle. A few took to unicycles, tricycles, penny farthings – one man had even pogo-sticked the whole route. It was their choice whether to do the Jogle – from John O’Groats to Cornwall – or the Lejog – starting at Land’s End and ending up in John O’Groats, with its scattering of gift shops, cafés and apparently a beautiful Victorian hotel clustered around a tiny harbour. Not that Jenna would know.

  As well as helping to coordinate the journeys, Cam did his best to greet every end-to-ender, cheering them on, taking photos and trying to get as much press and online coverage as he could.

  Unlike Jenna, who worked at the much larger Land’s End attraction, which drew in thousands of tourists every day in the summer, Cam worked freelance for the End-to-End organisation. He’d told Jenna over their many calls that he lived in a cottage along the coast, half a mile from the tourist attractions yet within a ten-minute walk of the village, where his parents and his sister, Hannah, and nephew, Lachlan, were based.

  He’d left his tech job in Edinburgh to head back home to John O’Groats and work for End-to-End. Since Jenna’s boss had met Cam at a tourism conference and suggested they work together, Jenna’s job had got a lot easier. He just seemed to get that they needed to be quick to respond, that the job would be busy . . . and, well, it wasn’t a straightforward nine to five.

  Cam, like Jenna, was always ready to go the extra mile.

  He sipped from his Powerade bottle and they discussed the various challenges happening in the following weeks.

  Jenna slurped the dregs of her iced coffee, drawing a smile from him. ‘Sorry, what a noise,’ she said, embarrassed.

  Cam laughed. ‘I’ve heard much worse,’ he said. ‘I must go. I’ve to see off a boy band – ex-boy band, as they’re all over fifty now – who are hiking across the country for the Birmingham cats’ charity. They’re all going to be dressed as cats. Which figures.’

  Jenna wrinkled her nose. ‘Ouch, imagine all that fur dripping wet.’

  Cam looked thoughtful. ‘I know – I have warned them, but people do the challenge in their own way. That’s what appeals, I guess. They’re always on some kind of quest, trying to find meaning in chaos.’

  ‘Or comfort or solace or a way to say thank you,’ Jenna replied, recalling the mum who had unicycled the route to raise money for the air ambulance who had saved her son’s life after a motorbike crash. People did the route for a thousand different reasons in a thousand different ways. ‘I don’t think I could ever do it.’

  ‘I bet you could if you really wanted to.’

  ‘I don’t think so . . . I’m not cut out for that kind of masochism.’ She hesitated. ‘But some people are and actually, I’ve saved my biggest news until last.’ She paused for breath. ‘I’ve just been contacted for a special event that could attract a lot of great coverage. My boss is really excited about it and it’s going to give us plenty of opportunities for fantastic PR. It’s for a brilliant cause too . . .’

  His eyes lit up. ‘Oh? I’m intrigued. What is it?’

  ‘It’s called the Kilt Challenge. It’s happening in six weeks’ time – and in fact it’s starting at your end. The ex-Scottish football team captain Sholto Mackenzie is going to cycle the route in a kilt!’

  ‘The Sholto Mackenzie?’ Cam gasped. ‘Oh wow. He’s an icon up here. Over a hundred caps for Scotland, that match-winning goal against England . . . when did you hear about this?’

  ‘Only this afternoon. It’s for a charity called HeartBeat that raises money for research into sudden heart failure in young people.’

  Cam blew out a breath. ‘A fantastic cause and a great challenge. A retired Scottish soccer player, riding in a kilt and arriving in Land’s End? That’s a gold-plated PR hook, especially north of the border. Everyone for miles around will be out to see him set off. Can you email me the details asap?’

  ‘Of course. The charity’s going to send more info through. It’s all been a bit last-minute. Sholto’s been training and thinking about it, but he wanted to do it before he starts his TV commitments during the football season. I’ll send all the info the moment I get it, and we can discuss after the weekend?’

  ‘Yeah. The sooner the better. We need to get our skates on with the media.’

  ‘Absolutely. I know we can do it. You’re brilliant at getting the word out, Cam.’

  ‘You too.’ Cam laughed. ‘Hmm. Sholto has certainly got some balls.’

  ‘In every way.’ Jenna laughed too and her stomach flipped. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the excitement of being involved in a challenge that was so close to her own heart, even if Cam didn’t fully realise why.

  ‘I can hear something in the background . . .’ Cam said. ‘Sounds like a party . . .’

  Jenna turned. She could hear laughter and shrieks of excitement outside her office. When she turned back, the sun had changed its angle, making it harder to see Cam on the screen.

  ‘Wow, it’s past five.’ She narrowed her eyes to try to see him better. ‘Better let you go and— do whatever you do.’

  ‘It’s not sunset here until after ten and it never really gets properly dark at this time of year. I’ll probably head out with my camera. Lachlan – my nephew – has spotted a pod of orcas and I’d love to get pics. What about you?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s Friday, but a quiet night in.’

  ‘What, no Leffe in the First & Last?’ Cam asked with a cheeky eyebrow raise, knowing that Jenna enjoyed the Belgian beer.

  ‘Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow,’ Jenna said. ‘No Westmalle while you’re photographing orcas?’

  ‘I might take a bottle, though I’ll have Lachlan with me. He’s seven, so a bit too young to have developed a taste for beer.’

  ‘Actually, I might go for a walk on the beach later too, and watch the sunset. Should be a stunner tonight.’ She shaded her eyes with her hands against the sun and sighed in pleasure. ‘I love these long late-May evenings . . .’

  ‘Me too.’ Despite Cam’s smile, he sounded wistful, as he occasionally did. Jenna didn’t know much about his private life, except that they both loved Jane Austen and Belgian craft beer but hated jazz and sushi. They enjoyed watching storms, walking in the rain and observing wildlife, which was just as well considering the wild landscapes surrounding them. Most of all, they shared a genuine passion for helping dedicated end-to-enders achieve their goal in the toughest of circumstances.

  ‘Talking of May, have you realised what today is?’

  Confusion was followed by a flutter of panic in Jenna’s stomach. ‘Um. Er – oh God, it’s not your birthday, is it? Argh. Sorry. I forgot.’

  He chuckled. ‘How could you forget when you don’t know when it is? No, today is actually the anniversary of our first Teams meeting.’

  ‘The first anniversary? You mean we’ve been doing this for a whole year? Wow. I hadn’t realised, I’ve been so busy organising.’ The time really had flown by, which just showed how much she’d enjoyed their chats.

  ‘Jenna. I’ve been meaning to say something. That we should – maybe – we should meet.’

  ‘Meet? That would be good. Long way though, from John O’Groats. Are you going to be in the area? If you’re coming down then drop in to the office?’

  ‘The office? I – well, yes, of course.’

  ‘Let me know though, so I make sure I’m on shift.’

  ‘Yes. I – er – will and – I was wondering whether if I was in the area, I could maybe take you out to dinner. I mean, to a pub or whatever. As a thank you for all the hard work you do.’

  ‘Dinner? The pub? Sure,’ Jenna responded distractedly – the noise outside was growing louder. ‘I know all the guys here would love to meet you. It’s bizarre we’ve worked together for so long, but not actually met. I mean, I feel I’ve known you for years and I’m sure you’d love to see “Mile Zero Towers” – not that it is a tower, more a whitewashed building, but the views are amazing, though probably not quite as good as yours, but pretty spectacular.’

  ‘I’m sure the view is great.’ Cam fiddled with his pen. ‘And I’d love to meet your colleagues, but I was kind of hoping, if it’s not too weird, and only if you do want to . . .’

  A boy appeared next to him on the screen, a huge camera slung round his small neck. ‘Uncle Cam! Quick, the orcas are back in the Firth. Right outside the house. Come quick! I’ve got your camera.’

  ‘Lachlan, hold on. I’d love to but I’m in a meeting – for work.’

  Jenna stifled her laughter.

  ‘Oh, you must be Jenna. Uncle Cam’s always going on about you. My mum says it’s “Jenna this and Jenna that”.’

  ‘Lachlan, mate, can I finish my meeting?’ Cam sounded desperate and Jenna pressed her lips together. ‘I’ll be out in five minutes and we can get the drone up.’

  ‘Yes! Sorry, Jenna!’

  The freckled face, a mini version of Cam, filled the screen and then was gone.

  Jenna laughed, then assumed a mock-serious expression. ‘You were saying, Cam.’

  ‘Yes, I was, but maybe I—’

  ‘Surprise!!!’

  ‘Oh, oh my God!’

  Jenna’s head jerked forward in shock, almost making contact with the screen. Someone had clapped her on the back and chaos erupted in her small office.

  There were shrieks of delight, party poppers popped, streamers rocketed over the laptop and silly string exploded on to her hair, the keyboard and across Cam’s shocked face on screen.

  ‘What the – what’s this?’

  Someone twirled her chair around. Her colleagues were packed into the office, grinning and laughing.

  ‘Congratulations!’ they shouted.

  ‘Er. Thank you . . .’

  Her best friend, Kerry, suddenly caught sight of Cam behind her and clapped her hands to her mouth. ‘Shit. You’re on a call, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Still shaky with shock, she swivelled back. ‘Sorry, Cam. Bit of a surprise here.’

  ‘Oh, hello, Cam!’ Kerry called with a wave. ‘If it’s only Cam, he won’t mind. He’s practically one of the gang, aren’t you? He can celebrate with us. I know he’ll want to congratulate Jenna.’

  ‘I – er—’ Cam’s eyes were like a rabbit in the headlights. ‘I um – would love to congratulate Jenna. Is it your birthday – a special birthday? Twenty-five? Thirty?’

  ‘Thirty?’ Jenna said, feeling awkward. ‘No, that was last year. No . . .’

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8