A Taste of Home Page 18

  ‘That’s really kind, Bec,’ I told her. ‘But we couldn’t afford to pay you.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you to. That’s not why I asked.’

  ‘I’m not sure Grandad would be happy about you working for nothing,’ I frowned. ‘And I wouldn’t be either. Strawberry picking is hard work and if there’s no reward at the end of it…’

  ‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,’ she cut in, eagerly loading her fork with straw. ‘Perhaps you could pay me in food. That Italian feast you cooked up the other weekend was to die for. I’d pay good money for that and I bet you’ve got plenty of recipes to turn all this fruit into fine fare, haven’t you?’

  I thought of Nonna’s much-anticipated cherry and almond tart, along with all the other dishes I had at my disposal thanks to her culinary education, and my mouth watered.

  ‘That I have,’ I confirmed, and another big idea landed.

  The time flew by and it wasn’t long before we’d got a system going and the rows were almost complete. We were both ridiculously hot, but with regular breaks and plenty of drinks and chat, we pressed on determined to get finished before Grandad and Eliot arrived.

  Not only did working with my new friend make the task more bearable, her presence also stopped me worrying about how Grandad was getting on. I thought he’d made great progress, and so did he, but we weren’t the professionals so our opinions didn’t count for much.

  ‘That must be them,’ said Bec, when we were just half a row short of finishing and heard a car on the drive. ‘I’ll keep going and you go and see how they got on. I know it’s been on your mind.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘but I’m pretty sure that’s not them. It didn’t sound like the Banana-mobile horn to me.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a point,’ Bec frowned. ‘It didn’t, did it?’

  I was just about to walk up the row and retrieve my abandoned shirt when a man appeared around the corner, making me jump.

  ‘Well now,’ he called. ‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?’

  ‘Anthony,’ I breathed, crossing my arms. ‘Crikey, you made me jump.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I knocked at the house first, but when there was no answer, I gave a blast on the car horn and ventured down. I hope that was okay?’

  I walked towards him and sensing my discomfiture, he picked up my shirt and handed it to me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, shaking it out.

  It was a nightmare to pull on, thanks to the layers of sunscreen and sweat and I could feel my temperature rising even higher as I struggled to force my arms into the sleeves.

  ‘And what about me?’ asked Bec, as she finished the final couple of metres of strawing up and tucked her damp curls behind her ears for what must have been the hundredth time. ‘Am I a sight for sore eyes, too?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Anthony seriously said. ‘You’re both a vision of the modern rural idyll.’

  ‘That’s all right then,’ she smiled.

  ‘So,’ I said, giving up on the slippery shirt buttons. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure? Is this a social call or are you here to scrump my strawberries?’

  Bec let out an inelegant snort and I felt my face flush. Anthony raised his eyebrows and I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.

  ‘It is a social call,’ he grinned, ‘but I could go for a strawberry, if that’s what’s on offer.’

  ‘Why don’t you pair go to the house,’ suggested Bec, digging me in the back, ‘and I’ll pick some and bring them around in a minute.’

  Anthony and I wandered off towards the yard.

  ‘I see you’ve got hens,’ he said, when the run came into sight.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘They’re new additions. They’ve only just arrived, but they seem to be settling in okay.’

  ‘A bit like you then,’ he said.

  I ducked inside the run, lifted the lid on the nest box and found two beautiful eggs.

  ‘Oh, well done, girls,’ I said, picking the eggs up. ‘That’s a very good start.’

  I wondered which of the trio was yet to perform. I would have put good money on it being the quiet one, who was hiding behind her larger coop mates.

  ‘Hold these would you?’ I asked, handing the eggs to Anthony so I could secure the door again.

  When I took them back, I saw he had a dollop of hen poo on his hand.

  ‘Oh god, sorry,’ I said, ‘you’d better come into the kitchen and wash your hands. It’ll set like concrete before you know it.’

  Had he been dressed like Grandad, or even Jake, he would have no doubt wiped his hand on his trousers and thought nothing more about it, but Anthony wasn’t the type to go around in clothes smeared with chicken poop. His outfit probably cost more than I’d ever earned in a month.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee or something?’ I offered once he’d washed his hands and was looking happier again.

  ‘No,’ he said, handing me back the towel. ‘I better get back to work.’

  ‘Not a very long social call then.’

  ‘Afraid not,’ he said.

  ‘I still don’t know what it is that you do,’ I commented. ‘It seemed to take me an age just to find out your name.’

  ‘That’s sort of why I’m here.’

  ‘To tell me it’s not Anthony Judd, after all?’

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘To speed up us getting to know each other.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘And how do you propose to do that?’

  ‘By taking you out to dinner Saturday night.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said again.

  ‘Not in Wynbridge,’ he added. ‘We’ll have to go a bit further afield, if we want to eat somewhere special.’

  I didn’t think I had the right clothes to wear to eat somewhere special, but I did wonder if dining out with Anthony, no strings attached of course, might be just the sort of distraction I had been angling for when thinking about Eliot earlier. If Eliot somehow accidentally on purpose discovered that I had been out with someone else, then that would definitely help keep his feelings for me in check, wouldn’t it? And in turn, mine for him, too.

  ‘So,’ said Anthony, when I didn’t answer. ‘Is it a date?’

  He really wasn’t my type, but that wasn’t the point. His timely offer of a dinner date could serve a very useful purpose. I hoped that wasn’t too sly of me to think it. For all I knew, he might have been harbouring very different intentions. I would have to make sure I kept things properly platonic between us from the off.

  ‘I’ll even tell you what I do for a living and what my favourite colour is, if you like?’ he temptingly added.

  ‘What about, whether you’re a cat or a dog person?’ I quizzed.

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Whether you believe in ghosts?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘If you could change one thing about yourself, what it would be?’

  ‘All that and a whole lot more,’ he promised. ‘So, what do you say?’

  ‘In that case, how can I possibly resist?’ I grinned. ‘I’d love to have dinner with you.’

  We sealed the deal by exchanging mobile numbers and then tucked into the strawberries Bec had picked and taken an age to come back with.

  ‘I’d really better go,’ he said, once he’d helped polish off the lot.

  At least with Bec finally present there was no opportunity for an awkward goodbye kiss.

  ‘What kept you?’ I asked her as we waved him off.

  ‘I wanted to give you a bit of time,’ she replied, waggling her eyebrows.

  ‘Very tactful.’

  ‘He looked as though he was going to pass out when you sauntered up the row in that top and those low-slung shorts,’ she giggled.

  ‘I did not saunter,’ I gasped. ‘And these aren’t low-slung,’ I added, hoisting them up, ‘they’re just a bit too big, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, whatever,’ she said. ‘He definitely liked what he saw.’

  Given that she’d hinted that her own brother had designs
on me the other night, she didn’t seem all that bothered about me getting on with Anthony, which was a relief. However, if she was right about Anthony’s reaction to seeing me half-dressed, then I was going to have to be mindful of any misleading flirting.

  I’d showered and changed by the time Eliot and Grandad got back and so had Bec. She’d borrowed an oversized T-shirt and pair of shorts and I was relieved to find that my muscles felt nowhere near as stiff as they had the day before.

  Not only had Bec done more than her share of the work, I must have also been more relaxed while I did mine. Working with her had been a total tonic and I was grateful for her company.

  ‘So,’ I said to Grandad. ‘How did you get on?’

  ‘Absolutely fine,’ he proudly said. ‘They were thrilled with the progress I’ve made, weren’t they Eliot?’

  ‘They were,’ his friend confirmed, that gorgeous smile that I was trying not to think about firmly in place. ‘The consultant said you looked like a new man, didn’t he?’

  ‘He did,’ said Grandad. ‘And I feel like one too. And,’ he added, ‘we’ve just picked up this new-fangled contraption, by way of celebration.’

  The contraption in question was a laptop.

  ‘I’ll come and set it up at the weekend,’ said Eliot. ‘If that’s all right?’

  ‘Saturday night?’ Grandad suggested.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Eliot.

  It was perfect too, because Eliot would find out about my dinner date. But what on earth was I going to wear?

  I was already planning to pick and take the ripened strawberries to the Cherry Tree Café the next day, so I could have a look in town then. I didn’t think a little retail therapy would go amiss and I’d maybe wear Mum’s bangles for luck. She was always a savvy shopper. And I could ask if I could check my emails in the library too. I was certain I would have a reply from Marco waiting for me. I only hoped it was an understanding one.

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, there were enough ripe strawberries to fill two trays and I carefully lifted them into the back of the Land Rover with a more surging sense of pride than I’d ever experienced before. Sure, I’d helped pick and transport tonnes of fruit over the years, but none of it had been grown on my own family farm.

  This was going to be a very special delivery indeed, and with that knowledge making my chest swell and the comfort of some of Mum’s many bangles familiarly jangling on my wrists, I turned on my phone and took another couple of photos to record the moment for posterity.

  ‘More pictures,’ chuckled Grandad as he came to look at what I was up to. ‘I’ll have to make sure I’m always looking my best at this rate, in case you get me in the corner of any of your snaps.’

  ‘I can do better than that!’ I told him.

  I switched the camera to selfie mode and took a few shots with us both in the frame. Then I took a couple of him on his own, holding one of the packed punnets of strawberries.

  ‘How’s that?’ I asked, showing him the results.

  ‘Really lovely,’ he nodded. ‘That’s a very clever phone you’ve got there, Fliss.’

  I passed it to him and he looked more closely at the images.

  ‘Do you know,’ he said, his tone a little emotional, ‘you look just like your grandmother.’

  ‘Do I?’

  I took the phone back again and looked at myself with fresh eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You do. I’ve got some albums in the house somewhere. I’ll have to find them when we get back and then you’ll be able to see the resemblance for yourself.’

  ‘I’d really like that,’ I told him, before I realised what he’d said. ‘Are you coming to town with me, then?’

  He did look a bit spruced up. He’d changed out of his work gear and into the obligatory ‘farmer goes to town’ outfit. In my experience, it was mostly reserved for market days and meetings at the bank.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an appointment with my solicitor and the bank manager, so we’d better get a move on. The solicitor in particular is a stickler for punctuality.’

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Fair enough. I’ll just get my bag and lock up and then we’ll find a way to get you in and out of the Land Rover that Eliot would approve of.’

  ‘I rather liked your apple crate idea.’

  I rather liked it too because by the time I’d finished in the house, Grandad had fetched one and, having checked the strength of it by standing on it myself, he then easily stepped up and into his beloved Land Rover. I put the crate in the back with the fruit, so he could get out again, and we were off.

  ‘I knew that would work,’ he said, with a satisfied look and I can’t deny I felt rather chuffed.

  I parked in the space closest to Miller, Moffat and Matthews, the only solicitors in Wynbridge, and arranged to meet Grandad in the same spot a couple of hours later. He would have finished at the bank by then too. I had offered to attend that appointment with him, but he said he was keeping me up his sleeve for future appointments. Whatever that meant.

  ‘If I’m finished before you,’ he told me, ‘I’ll go and have a coffee in the pub, so don’t worry about rushing.’

  ‘All right,’ I said, looking over at The Mermaid with its many floral baskets and tubs. ‘I haven’t been in there yet, so I might be late on purpose just so I have to come and find you.’

  Grandad laughed and I crossed the road to the Cherry Tree, carefully carrying the treasured trays of fruit. Jemma spotted me through the window and quickly opened the door.

  ‘Well,’ she said, her eyes lighting up, ‘this is a surprise.’

  ‘I know you weren’t expecting any yet,’ I said, following her inside and handing over the trays, ‘but this lot were keen to ripen and I felt sure you’d be able to rustle something up.’

  It was a monumental moment and when I explained to her just how significant it was for me on a personal level, she looked quite moved. It was all I could do to stop myself from welling up too, but I managed it. Just.

  ‘In that case,’ she said, putting the trays down and giving me a hug, ‘I’ll definitely make the most of them.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Do you know,’ she mused, ‘I’m going to keep it simple to kick the season off. I’m going to advertise that we’ve got fresh local strawberries, naming the farm of course, and I’m going to serve them with meringue pieces and vanilla cream. Give it an hour of chalking that on the board and I’ll be inundated.’

  I didn’t doubt it. My mouth was watering and I’d already eaten my fill that morning as I was picking.

  ‘Do you want me to pay you for them now?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘We don’t want anything for these as you didn’t ask for them. Consider this lot a sort of try before you buy.’

  She looked at the trays filled with the perfect, plump fruit and shook her head.

  ‘No way,’ she said. ‘I’ll do you a deal. Are you in town for a bit?’

  ‘A little while, yes.’

  ‘In that case, come back later and I’ll give you something sweet for the weekend in lieu of cash.’

  ‘All right,’ I agreed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No,’ she said with emphasis. ‘Thank you.’

  I took a couple more snaps on my phone, this time with Jemma posing instead of Grandad, and was just about to leave when a thought occurred.

  ‘You don’t happen to know anywhere in Wynbridge where I might find a dress I could wear to go out in the evenings, do you?’

  ‘What’s the occasion?’ she keenly asked.

  ‘Nothing specific,’ I fibbed, because I didn’t have time to go into details.

  However, I was surprised and a little disappointed that Bec hadn’t shared news of my imminent dinner date. If she hadn’t mentioned it to Jemma, she probably hadn’t talked about it at home either. I would definitely have to make sure Grandad was on the case when Eliot came to set up his laptop.

  ‘But I haven’t got anything smart here and you never
know,’ I further said to Jemma.

  ‘It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’d give Bella’s Boutique a try,’ she suggested. ‘She has all sorts of lovely stuff.’

  Armed with detailed directions, I left Jemma preparing her first Fenview Farm fruit delivery and went in search of Bella’s. It was tucked away in a little courtyard, along with a bookshop, music shop, jewellers and a tiny antique store. Had Jemma not told me exactly where to look, I never would have found it. I wondered if the shops ever did any business and didn’t really hold out much hope for finding what I wanted.

  If only Eliot had talked Grandad into getting the farm web connected sooner, I could have ordered online for next day delivery. I glanced around the courtyard again. Perhaps I would have been better off going straight to the library and asking if I could log on to a computer again. I could quickly check my emails and peruse the clothing sites there.

  ‘Good morning,’ said a woman, stepping out of the boutique just as I was about to turn away.

  She was in her fifties and smartly dressed in a layered linen outfit with cropped grey hair and colourful statement jewellery.

  ‘I’ll just finish putting these out,’ she said, arranging some pretty planted containers and a tiny metal table and two chairs, ‘and I’ll be right with you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, stepping around her and inside because it would have been more awkward to walk away.

  The shop was far larger than I expected and packed to the gunnels. As well as outfits arranged along the rails in rainbow colour formation, there were myriad accessories, shoes and scarves. It was very lovely, but I still didn’t think there would be anything for me.

  ‘So,’ said the woman, as she stepped back in and closed the door. ‘Welcome to Bella’s Boutique. I’m Bella and this is Princess.’

  Princess was a pure West Highland White Terrier, with a pair of bright eyes and a cute button nose. She looked like a well-groomed teddy bear and had impeccable manners.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Bella and Princess,’ I said, feeling warmed by their welcome but increasingly scruffy in my work gear.

  ‘What a fabulous collection of bangles,’ gasped Bella.