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The car broke down at eight forty-two. Mia was sure of that, because she checked the clock and thought that she really should be cutting her wedding cake right about now.

To be completely fair, the car didn’t actually break down. It was more that it ran out of petrol. In truth, it was surprising that it had made it this long. Though she had taken two breaks in order to weep profusely and loudly in the safety of her car.

She had no idea where she was. She’d driven and just kept driving. And when the motorway had become too much, lorries honking and rush hour traffic building up, she’d taken the nearest exit and just… driven some more.

Until now she was here, wherever here was, surrounded by fields and greenery and a slowly setting sun.

She sat for a few minutes, listening to the ticking of the engine cooling down, taking deep, clean breaths, and not thinking of anything other than the next minute, then the next, then the next. She could, she supposed, sleep in the car.

She took a look back. It was tiny. She couldn’t even stretch out her legs. And the car wasn’t going to be going anywhere, anytime soon. She hadn’t run out of petrol because she’d forgotten to fill up. She’d run out because she had no money to fill up. She had no money, no purse, no phone, no nothing. Just… herself. And her car keys. And a wedding dress.

Finally, after five minutes of sitting and wondering, she came to a decision. She opened the door, got out, yanked her wedding dress after her, locked up the car, and began to walk.

It was all downhill. Downhill until she saw a sign that said Little Chipping. And she just kept walking, on and on until she came to the first building that she’d seen, and then she walked straight up to the door, because what else was she going to do?

Mia looked around for a doorbell or a knocker or something like that, and when she didn’t find one, she pushed at the door and it opened quite easily. It was only when she stepped inside and saw the reception desk that she realized that this must be some kind of hotel.

“Be just a minute,”

said a voice.

Mia walked up to the desk and waited, because that was what you did at hotels.

“Right we are,”

said the same voice. Then a woman appeared around the corner.

She was older than Mia. Around sixty, perhaps. She had gray hair that was twirled into a bun, with tendrils escaping, twinkling blue eyes, and the sort of outfit that made Mia wonder if the woman was color blind.

“Ah,”

she said, stopping when she saw Mia.

“Ah,” said Mia.

The woman came closer, edging behind the reception desk. She peered at Mia. “Are you alright, love?”

Mia took a deep breath, then shook her head. “No. No, I’m not.”

It felt so good to say the words, so light somehow, to tell the truth and not just be polite.

“Oh dear.”

The woman looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m Rachel.”

“Mia,” said Mia.

“Are you… with somebody?”

asked Rachel, glancing toward the door.

“No,”

Mia said quite firmly. “I’m… alone.”

The word sounded nice and round in her mouth.

“Ah,”

said the woman again. She reached over and pulled a couple of tissues out of a box.

“Oh, I don’t need those,”

Mia began, but then, to her surprise, she was crying. She took the tissues and tried to staunch her tears.

“Better out than in, I’ve always thought,”

said Rachel. “There’s nothing better than a good cry. And, to be frank, you do look like you could use one.”

“I’ve done nothing but cry most of the afternoon,”

Mia said, choking through her sobs.

Rachel cocked her head to one side. “Do you want to talk about it?”

she asked, after a moment’s consideration.

“No,”

Mia said vehemently. “I don’t.”

“Fair enough.”

Rachel tapped her fingers on the desk. Her nails were practically short and well-kept. “We’d best get you to a room, I think,”

she said finally.

“But I can’t,”

Mia said, suddenly looking up in horror. “I haven’t got a penny. No money, no cards, not even my phone.”

Rachel laughed. “Wedding dresses don’t have pockets.”

“They don’t,”

Mia agreed. She’d stopped crying now.

“What about I get you upstairs to a room and then I bring you some nice soup and a roll, and then you can have a sleep and think about things? You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

Mia, who hadn’t slept the night before, yawned at the thought of this. “Um, why?”

she asked, as Rachel picked up a key and came around the desk.

“Why what?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Rachel looked back at her, then shrugged. “Because you look like you could use some help,” she said.

She wrapped an arm around Mia’s waist and escorted her toward the stairs, and Mia found that she needed the support.

On the first floor, Rachel unlocked a door, and Mia found herself in a pretty little room with a wooden bed and a small window, and an armchair that looked like she could read all day in it. She sagged down onto the bed in relief.

By the time Rachel came back with soup, Mia was fast asleep.

Rachel pulled a blanket up over her, covering the wedding dress, and wondering just what her new guest had been through.

***

Luna knew full well that her grandmother read the newspaper from cover to cover every morning in the breakfast room. So she felt safe enough prowling around the upstairs of the house and letting herself into what had been her grandfather’s room.

She’d never known the man. He’d died long before she was born. But he did have something that she needed right now. Opening up the large wooden wardrobe, she selected the smallest pair of trousers she could find, as well as a set of braces and a large, flowing cream shirt. Once she’d rolled up the trouser legs and clipped the braces on over her shirt with its sleeves rolled up, she looked quite presentable.

Presentable enough to go into town and ask for work.

After an uncomfortable dinner, during which her grandmother asked her precisely nothing about where she’d been for the last seven years, Luna had retired to an early night and a lot of time to think.

She’d come to the conclusion that a job was the only possible solution to her current circumstances. Perhaps getting one would be enough to convince her grandmother that she was responsible. And if not, well, she needed money to buy an onward ticket, so she needed work anyway.

She crept down the stairs and let herself out of the house into a bright, sunny morning. Sunny enough that she was whistling as she walked down the road toward the small high street. She loved traveling, but a tiny part of her had missed this, missed the sharp brightness of an English summer morning, the familiar smells, the comfortableness of it all.

It was still early, and when she got to the high street, the only places open were the bakery and a florist. The bakery she’d known all her life. The florist was new, and that was why she chose it.

“Hello?”

she said as she went in, peering around stands of flowers.

“Just a sec,”

said a voice.

Luna inhaled the scent of flowers, the damp humidity of the air wet on her skin.

“Luna. Luna Truman. As I live and breathe.”

She turned around to see a plump, red-haired woman who looked oddly familiar. It took a second to place her. “Jan? Is that you?”

Jan put her hands on her ample hips and snorted. “Seven years and you don’t remember the poor soul who had to suffer through an entire school year of maths class with you?”

Luna grinned. “I still can’t do long division.”

“Mr. Hughes was lying,”

Jan said. “I run an entire damn business now and I’ve never had to long divide anything. Mind you, the adding and subtracting comes in handy.”

Luna laughed. “This place is all yours?”

“All mine,”

said Jan. “And aren’t you gasping for a cup of tea? Come on back and I’ll get you one and you can tell me where you disappeared off to. Come on.”

LUNA CHORTLED INTO her cup, and Jan laughed like a drain.

“It is good to see you,”

Jan said, wiping her eyes. “I’d forgotten how much fun we had together. And you’ve had such an adventure. What on earth dragged you back here?”

Luna puffed out a breath. “Money,”

she said. “If I’m being honest. But I’ll be out again before you know it. Don’t you worry.”

“Yeah, well, maybe send a postcard or two this time.”

“I promise,”

Luna said. “And now I’m supposing all the rest of the shops will be open, so I’d better be getting on with things.”

“Getting on with what?”

Jan said, getting up to rinse the teapot.

“Looking for work,”

said Luna. “I’ve not got many qualifications, but I’m willing and eager.”

Jan turned to her. “Well, why didn’t you say?”

“Say what?”

“That you need a job. I’ve been looking for an assistant for the last two months and I can’t get anyone who’ll deal with the early hours. You need to be up at the crack of dawn to deal with deliveries and the like.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind an early morning.”

“There you go then,”

said Jan. “Come on here and be my assistant.”

“I can’t commit for the long-term,”

said Luna carefully, not wanting to let her friend down.

“I’m not asking you for the long-term. Things dry up again after the summer and all the weddings and the like. I just need someone for right now. What do you say? Are you in?”

A slow smile spread across Luna’s face. See? Trust in the world. Believe in people. Things always work out in the end. “I’m in,”

she said. “Put me to work.”

Jan nodded to a couple of styrofoam boxes that were piled by the door. “First thing you can do is take those up to the hotel.”

“Right you are,”

said Luna, rolling her sleeves up another turn.

She was whistling cheerfully again as she strode out into the sun, the boxes of flowers in her arms.