href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter 23
Where are the ‘Little Cornish Isles’?
The Isles of Scilly are one of my favourite places in the world – not that I’ve travelled that much of the world, but I’ve been lucky enough to visit a few locations renowned for their stunning coastlines, including Grenada, St Lucia, Sardinia, Corsica and Southern Australia. There are some beautiful beaches in all of these places, but I think the white sands and jewel-like seas of St Mary’s, St Martin’s, St Agnes, Tresco and Bryher are equally, if not more breathtaking than any of those exotic hotspots.
From the moment I first glimpsed Scilly from a tiny Skybus aircraft in September 2014, I was smitten. From the air, the isles look like a necklace of emerald gems fringed by sparkling sands, set in a turquoise, jade and sapphire lagoon. (Just remember that we’re in the chilly Atlantic, thirty miles west of Cornwall and that it can rain and the fog can roll in. Take your wellies, walking boots and umbrella as well as your bikini!)
Within half an hour of setting foot on the ‘Main Island’, St Mary’s, I knew that one day I had to set a novel there. However, if you go looking for Gull Island, St Piran’s, St Saviour’s, Petroc or any of the people, pubs or businesses featured in this series, I’m afraid you won’t find them. They’re all products of my imagination. While I’ve set some of the scenes on St Mary’s, almost all of the organisations mentioned in the series are completely fictional and I’ve had to change aspects of the ‘real’ Scilly to suit my stories.
On saying that, I hope you will find stunning landscapes, welcoming pubs and cafés, pretty flower farms and warm, hardworking communities very like the ones you’ll read about in these books. I’ll leave it to you, the reader, to decide where Scilly ends and the Little Cornish Isles begin.
Phillipa x
August Bank Holiday Monday
St Mary’s Airport, Isles of Scilly
Oh no, surely that wasn’t her?
Jess Godrevy’s heart sank as she spotted the girl standing guard over a wheelie suitcase in the arrivals hall at St Mary’s airport terminal. She was all of five feet tall and looked as if she’d blow away in the first Atlantic gust. Was this really Dr Gabriella Carter? Her head-and-shoulders photo had given no indication of how tiny she was – more like a sixth-former than a twenty-seven-year-old with a PhD. Just wait until Will saw her …
Jess smiled to herself as Gabriella pulled her case even closer, though no one was likely to run off with it on Scilly and they certainly wouldn’t get away with the crime if they did. Jess had already nodded or exchanged hellos with most of the staff and locals in the terminal, all of whom she knew by sight. None of them was a criminal mastermind, although some people would say Hugo Scorrier came closest. His unruly black Labrador, Basil, was sniffing around people’s luggage while Hugo was deep in conversation with a good-looking, dark-haired man who Jess didn’t recognise. Judging by the stranger’s sharp suit and laptop bag, he and Hugo were probably discussing some big business deal relating to Hugo’s luxury resort on Petroc.
Jess
