Phaedra Patrick

Wishes Under The Willow Tree


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      ‘A feel-good story with oodles of charm that had me rooting for Arthur all the way.’

       The Daily Mail

      ‘Charming by name, charming by nature, this book is a balm for the soul and the heart.’

       The Sun

      ‘A gorgeous journey told through charms.’

       Heat

      ‘Eccentric, charming and wise, this will illuminate your heart.’

       Nina George, author of The Little Paris Bookshop

      ‘A charming, unforgettable story.’

       Harper’s Bazaar

      ‘With many poignant as well as laugh-out-loud moments, in the vein of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, this is a lovely feel-good read.’ Compass

      ‘As charming and witty as the title suggests.’

       My Weekly

      ‘We love this sweet story about self-discovery.’

       Take A Break

      PHAEDRA PATRICK studied art and marketing and has worked as a stained-glass artist, film-festival organiser and communications manager. She is a prize-winning short story writer and her debut novel was translated in twenty languages worldwide. She lives in Saddleworth with her husband and son, where she writes full-time.

      Wishes Under the Willow Tree is her second novel. For more information, please visit www.phaedra-patrick.com and you can also follow Phaedra on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

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      For Mark and Oliver

      Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Dedication

       8. Zircon

       9. Aquamarine

       10. Lapis Lazuli

       11. Blue Jack

       12. Carnelian

       13. Blue Lace Agate

       14. Jade

       15. Fire Opal

       16. Kunzite

       17. Azurite

       18. Red Aventurine

       19. Tourmaline Quartz

       20. Bloodstone

       21. Tiger’s Eye

       22. Sunstone

       23. Garnet

       24. Poppy Jasper

       25. Citrine

       26. Blue Topaz

       27. Onyx

       28. Amethyst

       29. Smoky Quartz

       30. Diamond

       31. Black Obsidian

       32. Emerald

       33. Sugilite

       34. Jet

       35. Golden Beryl

       36. Alexandrite

       37. Rose Quartz

       Author’s Notes

       Reading group questions

       Acknowledgements

       Copyright

       hope, desire, fidelity

      As Benedict Stone huffed his way to work, the sweet smell of the cherry scones in Bake My Day made him forget for a moment that his wife, Estelle, had packed her purple suitcase and moved out of their home.

      His mouth watered and he stopped, sniffed and needed something weighty in his stomach, to help sugar-coat his sorrows. He curled his fingers into his palms and tried to resist, but it was like an ultra-strong magnet pulled him inside the baker’s shop.

      A fella like you needs more than just a slice of toast, a sausage roll, bought by a schoolboy, said. You need something sweet too, a chocolate cookie, on display in the glass counter, chipped in.

      Benedict tried his best to ignore them, but the lure of a succulent bacon sandwich and an oozy jam doughnut was too strong. He bought both and devoured them before he reached the front door of his shop, Stone Jewellery, just a few metres away.

      When he unlocked the door, his stomach dropped as he glanced at the 25% Off Sale sticker he’d taped into his window three months ago.

      He switched on the light and took off his jacket. Grey aluminium and glass cabinets lined the walls of the two-man deep and two-and-a-half-man wide space. The walls were all painted dolphin grey, and the floor was grey too. Benedict thought that the colour scheme was calm and elegant though his assistant, Cecil, claimed it needed more va-va-voom.

      A black door behind the counter led through to Benedict’s workshop. The small, square room housing his workbench was his sanctuary. When he shut himself away in there, he could block out the outside world and almost convince himself that all was still fine with his wife.

      He went inside and straightened up a file on his bench. He liked his tweezers, pliers, snips and soldering iron laid out in lines like a surgeon’s instruments. If Cecil