I plan to write this first story, following the plot of season one of the TV show—again, with some changes—and I would also like to write a second story that follows the second season.

And yes, that means this story will end similarly to how season one ended. HOWEVER, I am also considering writing an alternate ending, OR I might write a second story that is a continuation/a sort of "what if you know who hadn't been killed off".

We shall see where things take me. But rest assured, I want a HEA for our dear Charlotte as much as the rest of you.

And now, my lovely readers... enjoy!

It was a beautiful spring afternoon in the small village of Willingden. A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers and possibility, filling Charlotte with hope, despite current circumstances.

She had escaped out the back door of her family's home, which was situated on a small acreage of farmland. Outside, the air was calming and staving off her tears. Inside, she had started to feel suffocated by all the sympathies.

If she heard another I'm sorry for your loss or he was such a good man, she was going to lose it.

Hearing the familiar creak of the back door opening, she turned to see who it was. Hopefully not another person seeking her out to give their condolences.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Charlotte sighed in relief at her younger sister's welcome face. Alison offered her a sad, yet understanding smile as she came to sit next to her in one of the other chairs situated around their family's small fire pit.

Beyond where they sat, closer to the barn, the chickens were strutting noisily about in their coop and the goats were frolicking in their pen. They both sat quietly for a moment, breathing in the air and looking out over the farm.

"I just needed a minute," Charlotte finally spoke, all too aware of how somber she sounded, which was unusual compared to her usually cheery and upbeat manner. But her sadness was to be expected. She was much closer to their father than Alison was.

They were all a tight-knit bunch—Charlotte, Alison, their father, Robert, and their mother, Anne. But Alison had always been more of a mama's girl, whereas Charlotte had been her father's pride and joy, through and through. He taught her almost everything she knew, aside from what she learned on her own when she'd gone off to study at Cambridge.

She'd only been home about two weeks after finishing up her postgraduate studies when her father had died suddenly in an accident on the farm. She hadn't been home to visit from university since January and was devastated that she hadn't had more time with him before he died.

"Mum sent me to find you," Alison said. "There's a man inside who was an old friend of dad's apparently, and he said he'd like to meet you."

"I'm not sure I can handle any more teary-eyed sympathies." Charlotte sighed. Between the funeral earlier and now the wake at their house, she'd had just about enough.

She wasn't normally so unwelcoming of emotions, hers and others. Usually, she was the one with her head screwed on straight—like her dad. She had a fire in her, to be sure, and could get quite worked up on occasion over things she was passionate about. But overall, she was the sensible and dependable one.

In this specific situation, however, she was finding it challenging to keep her composure. To be expected, but still. It was a new feeling for her. She'd never really lost anyone she had been that close to before.

"I know." Allison reached out and squeezed her hand. "Almost everyone is gone now, though. They were all saying their goodbyes when I came to find you. But mum invited this man and his wife to stay for some tea. He's been telling us stories about his years at university with dad."

Charlotte smiled, thinking of her dad as a younger man, enjoying his years at Cambridge just as she had. "Alright," she sighed. She could do this—for dad. He'd want her to treasure memories of him and move on with her life, not wallow in a pit of despair.

"Charlotte," their mother said as she and Allison walked into the sitting room. "This is Tom Parker and his wife, Mary. Tom was an old friend of your father's from Cambridge."

"It's nice to meet you, Charlotte." Tom stood and reached out to shake her hand, as did his wife, Mary. "Robert and I kept in touch for a couple of years after our time studying together at Cambridge, and he used to talk about you all the time. I was quite sad that we eventually lost touch. And so very sorry to hear about his passing. But I am glad to get to meet you in person finally."

Charlotte shook their hands and gave a small smile in response but felt tears bubbling up again. She was afraid her voice might break if she spoke just then. She and Allison sat on the sofa next to their mother, and Tom and Mary mimicked their action, sitting back down in the chairs across from them.

There was a fresh pot of tea on the coffee table between them, and Charlotte poured herself a cup, seeing that everyone else already had one. And hoping that the tea might help calm her overwhelming emotions.

"Charlotte just received her master's degree from Cambridge herself. Robert was very proud that she followed in his footsteps," her mother stated, pride shining through on her face and in her voice as well. She offered Charlotte a teary-eyed smile and gave her hand a loving and reassuring squeeze just as Alison had outside.

"Oh, that's great" Mary declared over her cup of tea. "Congratulations."

Charlotte smiled. "Thank you."

"And did you study urban planning and development as well?" Tom asked.

"I did not," Charlotte answered, thankful that she had reigned in her emotions enough to hold a conversation. "I studied English literature, but dad loved to pull me into his study and teach me all sorts of things growing up. He had several architecture and urban planning texts that he shared with me. I think he had hoped that I would follow exactly in his footsteps. And I did have a fondness for those subjects, but literature is my true passion."

There was a time when Charlotte had considered studying architectural design, or perhaps sustainable urban planning. She did relish the idea of leaving her mark on the world in that way. And she knew it would have made her dad very proud to have followed through where he had not.

Not that he had failed, but he had given up that dream to take over his family's farm and start a family of his own. And Charlotte thought that perhaps he could relive his dream vicariously through her. But in the end, she always came back to literature. The writers and philosophers of the ancient Greek civilization were some of her favorites.

"Your father loved literature as well, and he was happy you followed your own path." Her mother turned and smiled warmly at her.

"Yes, yes. Nothing wrong with that. Literature is an admirable subject. I'm sure you have a sharp mind and a good heart and wit because of it," Tom praised. "But I must ask, are you still fond of architecture and planning?"

Mary sighed, rolling her eyes. "I know where this is going." She gave Tom a knowing look, but the smirk on her face told Charlotte that Mary was more amused than annoyed.

"Can I not be proud of what I am working on, Mary?" Tom questioned, his hand going to his chest in a show of dramatics.

"Of course, you can." Mary shook her head, chuckling.

Charlotte quirked her brow at them, a small smile playing at her mouth. She was curious what they were on about.

Mary smiled in apology over her tea. "You must excuse my husband. He is ever the enthusiast, and his latest project has him over-excited."

Tom reached down and pulled what looked like a portfolio out of the satchel sitting at his feet. "Sanditon is, or very soon will be, the finest seaside resort on the whole of the south coast. Even finer than Brighton."

"I would love to see it," Charlotte admitted honestly. Her father had made some sketches of ideas of his own once upon a time, and she had loved to look at them and imagine the possibilities with him.

"And so you shall," Tom replied, pulling papers out of the portfolio.

Charlotte quickly grabbed the teapot and moved it aside just as he started laying the papers down. Some were hand-drawn sketches, and others were more professional-looking digital designs and blueprints.

He started pointing to things. "The Sanditon Hotel here, shops, pubs, restaurants and cafés, a cinema, new houses, townhomes, flats, some larger villas—and over here are the cliffs with the most remarkable view of the sea. And this is the beach, where we hope to eventually have a very grand and luxurious beachfront hotel and resort with a wide range of amenities."

"You're really building all this?" Charlotte asked, amazed.

Tom nodded his head. "I am. Well, the cause of it being built. I'm a real estate developer and urban planner with some experience in architectural design as well. Parker Development is my company." He pulled out a business card and handed it to Charlotte.

She took it and smirked, recognizing a sales pitch when she saw one. "Thank you. It sounds amazing."

Tom responded with a wide and very proud grin. "It is truly amazing. We are having our first event to kick off the summer season and draw more attention to the area next month, in June. A grand gala to be held at The Sanditon Hotel ballroom and event centre. I insist you come visit."

"Well," Charlotte's mother spoke up, "I know we all could use a holiday, but with Robert gone now, I have to stay. There's so much to do here on the farm, and Allison needs to return to finish up the last month of her junior year at the University of Kent."

"And what about you, Charlotte?" Tom asked.

Charlotte hesitated, unsure. "I am technically free. I finished up my graduate studies a little early, but"—she paused, turning to look at her mother questioningly—"I should probably stay to help out with the farm." Getting away sounded perfect, but she would feel terrible leaving mum so soon after her dad's death.

"You should go," Allison urged. "I can live vicariously through you. And I can help mum on the farm after I finish up at Kent, if she needs it."

"I agree," her mother assented. "You should go. I've got staff here to help. You know that. You deserve a break after all your time and hard work getting your master's at Cambridge."

"We would be thrilled to have you," Mary chimed in.

"Yes, we would," Tom added. "You can stay with us for the summer. I'm sure Mary would love the help with all the event planning."

"Tom!" Mary chided, shaking her head. "She would come as our guest. Not to do work for us."

Tom put up his hands in apology. "Of course. Of course. I got ahead of myself. Come. Stay. Relax. Enjoy the sea air and go sunbathing. We've had some very fine beach huts built."

"I'll think about it. Can I think about it?"

A holiday would be very welcome after the past six years at Cambridge for her undergraduate and postgraduate studies. But she was still grieving, and even with her mum's consent, she felt bad about going off to the beach for the summer while her mother was left to run the farm on her own. She knew there was staff, but there would still be some extra work to do with her dad gone.

"Yes. There's plenty of time. No rush," Tom answered. "You need time to grieve and be with family, of course. My mobile number is on the card I gave you. Just give us a call to let us know what you decide."

"Speaking of mobiles," Mary said, looking at her phone. "I've just got a text from Julia, our nanny. Apparently, the kids are being quite troublesome today, and she's wondering how soon we'll be back."

Tom sighed as he started packing up the papers. "Well, we should get going then. I am so glad I got to meet you, Charlotte. And you as well, Alison, Anne. Robert was truly a wonderful person. He will be missed, I am sure."

"Thank you," Alison and their mother said at the same time as the three of them stood, as did Tom and Mary, to show them out.

Her mother continued, "It was so great hearing all of your stories about Robert. You'll have to retell them to Charlotte when she comes to visit."

"If," Charlotte corrected. "If I visit."

"Right," her mother responded with a knowing look. "If."

Allison chuckled and shook her head at the two of them.

Was it already a foregone conclusion that she would agree to go? And why were they all pushing this and fine with it except her? It's too soon—too sudden after her dad's passing.

She did want to go. Her sole focus for the past few years had been her studies, and she was desperately ready to start getting out and living her life. She hadn't had much of a social or romantic life while at Cambridge.

But their dad had just died. Suddenly and unexpectedly. She needed time.

"Well," Mary started, "thank you again for allowing us to stay for tea. You have a warm and welcoming home. And the farm is very charming. I am sorry that we met under such circumstances. You have my sympathies."

"Thank you," Charlotte, Alison, and their mother all said simultaneously.

"And please do let us know if you'd like to come to Sanditon, Charlotte. It really is no bother. We love entertaining guests," Mary added.

"I will." Charlotte opened the door for them and waved as they stepped out. "Bye."

"Goodbye," Tom and Mary said in unison, waving in return as they walked to their car.

"Well, girls," their mother sighed, as Charlotte shut the door. "I think I've spent my energy trying to hold myself together for the last little bit. If you need me, I'll be crying in the bath with a glass of wine."

Charlotte and Alison both chuckled softly with tears starting to pool in their eyes as their mother pulled them both in for a hug and kissed them each on their cheeks. They watched her silently as she went up the stairs.

"That sounds like a good idea," Alison said. "Sans the bath. Wine and cuddling on the sofa? Maybe an old film?"

"Monty Python and the Holy Grail?" Charlotte responded, suggesting one of their dad's favorite comedies.

Alison nodded. "Perfect."

Thoughts?

... it has been years since I've written fanfiction, so please be gentle with me ;)

I also am tragically American, haha. So if you notice anything glaringly obvious, like a word, phrase, etc. that is used in the U.S. but not in the UK, please feel free to let me know so I can make corrections going forward.

I tried to take my time making sure I used British language and customs, but it's possible some things could slip past me.

Updates may happen weekly or every two weeks... we shall see. I work professionally as a content writer and I have my own personal writing I am working on, so I'm not sure how I'll balance it all. But I promise I'll try to make regular updates.

Thank you for reading! :)