A Taste of Home Read online

  Looking beyond the piles of newspapers, dirty laundry in the basket and unwashed dishes crowding the sink, I could see there were the foundations of what had once been a lovely room. Whether it was no longer fulfilling its potential because my grandfather couldn’t manage to keep on top of it, or because he didn’t care whether it looked lovely or not, I had no idea, but it wouldn’t take much to get it back to its former glory.

  I ran my fingers along the edge of the battered pine table which stood in the middle of the floor and wondered if this was where Mum had sat and eaten when she was growing up. Had she been responsible for any of the dents and scuffs which marked the wood? Had she sat and lamented the loss of her mother here, like I had so recently mourned for her around the Rossi table?

  ‘Vicky!’

  My hand flew to my chest and my heart thrummed. If that was how my grandfather usually sounded, then I could appreciate some of the reason why Mum had distanced herself from him. He sounded terrifying.

  ‘Vicky!’ he belligerently bellowed again. ‘Where are you? I need you!’

  The gruff demand hadn’t come from upstairs, but from somewhere on the ground floor. There was no longed-for timely arrival of a car on the drive and I knew I was going to have to make my presence known, but what was I going to say?

  Bill Brown sounded extremely agitated and the sudden appearance of a complete stranger, when he was already in such a vulnerable state, was hardly going to endear me to him or form an instant bond, was it?

  ‘Right, I’ll do it myself!’ he yelled.

  That sounded serious. What if he was trying to get off his chair, or out of his bed and took a tumble? That wouldn’t help embed a recently replaced hip. I took another deep breath and quickly headed towards the room I could hear him calling from.

  There was no time to process my emotions as I laid eyes on my grandfather for the very first time because he was, just as I had feared, trying to get himself out of the bed which had been shoehorned into what looked like the dining room. I dithered for a fraction of a second, then rushed forward to stop him toppling over.

  ‘About bloody time,’ he muttered, leaning his full weight against me.

  He was heavier than I expected and it took all of my strength to support him and stop my knees from buckling.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ he wheezed when he realised, I wasn’t Vicky. ‘What are you doing in my house?’

  It was exactly what I had feared. He was going to have a coronary and it was all my fault.

  ‘I’m Vicky’s helper,’ I told him, in what I hoped was a placatory tone as I eased him carefully back on to the bed.

  ‘I don’t want you,’ he said, looking over my shoulder to the door. ‘I want Vicky.’

  I wanted Vicky too.

  ‘She’ll be back in a minute,’ I told him, ‘and the doctor will be here too.’

  I was feeling well out of my depth and more than a little afraid.

  ‘I don’t want that quack,’ he shouted. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

  I begged to differ, but was in no position to say as much. With him leant back against his pillows, I could see his face properly. His glasses were a little skew-whiff and I automatically reached out to straighten them, but he batted my hand away and did it himself. His hair was white, and his face, hands and forearms were deeply tanned. It wasn’t the sort of tan you got from a holiday, rather one that you developed as a result of a lifetime working outdoors. He looked older than his years, but then having recently undergone surgery and with a water infection brewing, that was little wonder.

  ‘Who are you?’ he wheezily demanded.

  ‘I’m Felicity,’ I said, my name escaping before I had the sense to check myself.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Felicity,’ I said again, though this time more quietly.

  His frown disappeared and his eyes were filled with wonder and then, to my horror, they were awash with tears.

  ‘I’ve been calling for you,’ he said, his lip trembling.

  Oh god, now he thought I was his wife.

  ‘No!’ he suddenly yelled, making me jump back. His expression transformed into one of pure fury as he realised I wasn’t the Felicity he wanted. ‘You’re not my wife! You’re not my Felicity. What are you doing here? Get out!’

  I took another step away, my mouth opening and closing like a trapdoor, but no more words fell out. Which was probably just as well, because I’d already said too much. I should never have come here. As soon as the doctor arrived, I would head back to town and get the bus to Peterborough and then book a flight back to Puglia.

  This whole debacle was a disaster, I’d made a huge mistake and so had Mum in thinking that I’d fit in here. It was foolish of her and me to think it was necessary for me to come. A lot had happened in the time since she’d left and neither of us had had the sense to realise that.

  ‘Get out!’ he shouted again, making me flinch.

  ‘Now then Bill,’ said a calm voice behind me. ‘What’s all the fuss? I can hear you out on the road.’

  I spun round.

  ‘She’s not my wife,’ he said again. ‘She’s not my Felicity.’

  ‘I’m Doctor Clarke,’ said the woman who had slipped in unheard, thanks to the furore. ‘I’m here so see Mr Brown. Who are you?’

  ‘She’s not my wife!’ my grandfather persisted, his words accompanied by an accusatory finger. ‘She’s not my wife.’

  ‘Would you mind waiting outside please?’

  I couldn’t get back to the kitchen and outside fast enough.

  My hands were shaking as I reached for my rucksack. I couldn’t believe I’d made such a mess of everything. I hadn’t been so naive as to think my turning up would go without a hitch, but I hadn’t for a single second thought it would all go so spectacularly wrong either. Twice I’d stupidly blurted out my name, and in the process, ruined everything. Right on cue, Mum’s letter, safe and snug with Nonna’s recipe, rustled against the fabric of my shirt. Should I leave it, I wondered?

  My fingers hovered over the pocket for the briefest moment and then retracted. No, I’d keep it with me and disappear again without a trace. With any luck, my grandfather’s delirium would stop him from remembering the ugly little scene that had just played out once he’d recovered. Assuming he did. And with even more luck, the doctor wouldn’t mention me, Vicky would be too busy and stressed to remember our brief exchange, and it would be as if I’d never existed.

  ‘Blast,’ I muttered, as I pulled out my phone and tried to ring for a taxi.

  Not a single bar of signal was filled. I hoisted my pack higher and stepped out of the door. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to walk too far along the drove before I hit, if not a signal hotspot, then perhaps a lukewarm one.

  The distant drone of an engine met my ears as I reached the farm gate and I swallowed down the lump in my throat which had grown even bigger because of it. It was a Ducati motorbike engine, there was no mistaking it.

  Alessandro had strictly forbidden his son from buying a motorbike, but that hadn’t stopped Marco firing up YouTube and watching endless videos of the powerful machines going round and round the circuits at Mugello and Misano, or pointing out that with his famous surname, a bike should have been his birthright.

  It used to drive both me and Nonna crackers, but in my heightened emotional state, it made me want to cry. In that moment I would have given anything to swap the dusty drove road in front of me for the equally dusty track which led to the Rossis’ farm. This had to be a sign. I needed to get back to my haven in Puglia as soon as possible.

  The bike was on me in a blink of an eye and turned smoothly into the farm gateway as I took a step out of the way. The person riding it was clearly a guy. Tall and well-built, easily filling the leathers which matched the machine’s classic red livery. I turned back to the road and tried to decide which way to go.

  ‘Wait up,’ called the rider as he cut the engine.

  I had no intention of ‘waiting up’.
I just wanted to get far away as quickly as possible.

  ‘Don’t take another step!’ he crossly shouted, when I didn’t stop.

  Was he for real? Who the hell did he think he was?

  ‘Are you talking to me?’ I scowled, spinning back to face him and easily matching his aggression.

  If he was looking for a row, he’d certainly picked the right moment and the right person come to that. I could feel all of my grief and frustration welling up. It really wouldn’t take much for my volcano of emotions to erupt on an epic scale.

  ‘I don’t see anybody else here,’ he shot back.

  He unzipped the front of the all-in-one suit to reveal a broad chest encased in a plain dark T-shirt. His helmet and gloves were already balanced on the bike seat and I had to resist the urge to march over and knock them off. I also had to resist the flutter in my chest which occurred in response to the sudden and shocking spark of attraction which rushed through me as I took in his thick dark hair and handsome face.

  What a ridiculous and inconvenient moment for me to fancy someone!

  ‘What do you want?’ I haughtily asked, struggling to extinguish the growing flame as he ran his hands through his hair and readjusted his glasses.

  The tough biker image, combined with the studious looking frames and glowering mood, was a total contradiction, but a very sexy one. I could almost feel Mum’s elbow nudging me in the ribs and see the mischievous smile which would have lit up her beautiful face had she been standing next to me. She always had an eye for a handsome man. I ignored what I knew would have been her reaction to this guy’s arrival and instead focused on snuffing out the flame of desire.

  ‘What?’ I shrugged.

  The biker and I stood staring at each other for what must have been just a couple of seconds, but felt far longer. I couldn’t be sure, but he seemed to be as taken aback by the sight of me as I was by the look of him.

  ‘Who exactly are you?’ he frowned.

  ‘Who are you?’ I quickly countered.

  ‘I asked first.’

  I shrugged and turned away again.

  ‘I’m Eliot,’ he said to my back. ‘I’m a friend of Mr Brown’s and currently one of his home carers.’

  He couldn’t have looked any less like what I assumed a home carer would look like if he tried. Not that I generally went in for stereotypes, but this guy was becoming more unfathomable by the second.

  ‘Then it’s a shame you weren’t here earlier when Vicky needed you, wasn’t it?’ I snapped. ‘She said you were really late and she had to leave, but the doctor’s here now.’

  ‘I couldn’t be here earlier,’ he told me, ‘because one of the people I look after had a hypo and I had to stay with them until the ambulance arrived.’

  ‘Oh.’

  I supposed that sounded like an adequate excuse for his late arrival. It certainly took some of the gale force wind out of my inflated sails.

  ‘But never mind that,’ he continued. ‘You still haven’t told me who you are.’

  ‘I’m no one,’ I shrugged, turning away again and looking towards the road. I was determined not to give up my identity to another stranger. ‘I was just passing and I heard someone shouting as I reached the gate so I stopped to check everything was okay.’

  I knew that sounded unlikely, but I really didn’t want this guy knowing my name. If he was as good a friend to my grandfather as he made out, then he would no doubt mention that he had bumped into someone claiming the family name, and that was the last thing I wanted. I needed to get out of Wynbridge without another soul sussing me out.

  ‘But my colleague was here then, was she?’

  ‘I’ve already told you she was.’

  ‘And she left you with Mr Brown and headed off?’ Eliot frowned as I risked another look at him. ‘She just left you, a total stranger, in charge here and carried on with her day?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  And it was right. I was a total stranger. Bill Brown and I might have shared blood, but we didn’t know each other.

  ‘Just like you, she had an emergency to get to,’ I added for good measure. ‘And I need to head off now as well, so if you don’t mind.’

  ‘I do mind actually,’ he shot back. ‘Because the way Vicky tells it, you told her that you were Mr Brown’s granddaughter, called Felicity, and that’s why she left you with him.’

  Bugger.

  Of course, she’d told him that. How could she not? She would have had to offer some justification for abandoning her post, and the presence of a family member would have been a more than adequate one, wouldn’t it?

  ‘Did she?’ I asked, chewing my lip.

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Well, that’s as maybe,’ I said, aiming for distraction, ‘but don’t you think you ought to be going inside? The doctor might need some help.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere unless you come with me,’ he said, pulling his arms completely out of the leather suit and pushing it down to his slim waist. ‘I don’t want to let you out of my sight.’

  I wasn’t sure how to read his tone but I knew I had no choice other than to begrudgingly follow him back inside.

  The doctor entered the kitchen from the opposite direction just as we walked in and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Ah, Eliot,’ she smiled. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes.’

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,’ he apologised. ‘I’ve just seen Joe off to hospital. The ambulance took an age to arrive, otherwise I would have been here a good hour ago.’

  I rather wished he had been here then. I might not have been intimidated by Vicky and ended up revealing my true identity as a result. I could have scarpered without any of the intervening fiasco.

  ‘What’s the matter with them all?’ Doctor Clarke tutted. ‘They’re dropping like flies today.’ She eyed me curiously. ‘You didn’t get the chance to introduce yourself before,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Oh, I’m no one,’ I told her. ‘I just happened to be passing earlier, heard shouting and put my head in to see if everything was okay.’

  I could feel Eliot’s eyes fixed on me.

  ‘Mr Brown was very upset when I arrived,’ the doctor frowned.

  ‘I don’t suppose he was expecting to find a stranger in his house,’ I smiled weakly. ‘But I was only trying to help. He got more upset when I told him my name.’

  ‘Ah,’ she said as the pager in her hand began to bleep. ‘Yes, Felicity. That’ll account for some of his confusion then. That was his wife’s name. She’s been dead for quite some time.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, horribly aware that Eliot was still staring. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Not to worry,’ she said, thankfully distracted by the pager. ‘You weren’t to know. I’ve got his meds sorted now and he’ll be right as rain in no time. Although Vicky shouldn’t have left him here alone.’

  ‘He wasn’t alone,’ I cut in, not wanting her to get in trouble. She might track me down and subject me to further intimidation. ‘I was here and I said I’d wait because she was in a rush to get to someone else who was poorly.’

  ‘I’ll still have to talk to her,’ said Doctor Clarke. ‘It isn’t usual practice to leave a patient with a stranger, under any circumstances.’

  ‘Do I need to pick anything up for Bill today?’ Eliot asked, thankfully not revealing to the doctor who Vicky had told him I was.

  ‘No, I had everything I needed for today with me.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Eliot.

  I thought his eyes were still tracking back to me, but I didn’t dare check.

  ‘Right, I have to go,’ said Doctor Clarke, waving the pager about. ‘Apparently, I’m needed back in town. Thank heavens this thing still works out here in the land of no mobile signal. You might need to pick up more meds for Bill next week, Eliot.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ he said, moving aside. ‘I’ll see you out.’

  ‘Nice to meet you Felicity,’ she smiled. ‘Why don�
�t you get the kettle on before you go? I’m sure everyone would feel better after a nice cup of tea.’

  ‘I’ll do it in a minute,’ said Eliot. ‘And I’m going to stay here for the next couple of days too. Just to be on the safe side.’

  That had to be service above and beyond the usual remit of home carer. Eliot had said that he was a friend of my grandfather’s and that kind gesture proved it.

  ‘That would be a great help if it isn’t too much trouble,’ said Doctor Clarke. ‘I had been wondering if it would be better to take him back into hospital.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Eliot. ‘Don’t do that. You know how frustrated he was when they wouldn’t let him home straight after surgery. I’m happy to be here and Vicky’s already re-drafted the rota because I’m supposed to be on holiday.’

  ‘Eliot, Eliot,’ the doctor sighed. ‘Where would we be without you?’

  He ducked his head, but didn’t answer and I began to feel guilty for biting his head off when he turned up. I supposed my unexpected arrival and claim to the Brown name did, in some way, justify him ordering me back into the house, and now I hadn’t fessed up to the doctor about who I was, his continued suspicious stare was nothing more than I deserved.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ I offered, trying to make amends.

  Given the circumstances, it was the least I could do.

  ‘Excellent,’ nodded Doctor Clarke before rushing out.

  By the time Eliot had seen her off, pulled off his boots and leather suit and checked on my grandfather who had fallen asleep, I had made a pot of tea and rinsed out a mug.

  ‘Who isn’t having any?’ he frowned.

  ‘Me,’ I told him. ‘I think it would be best if I left, don’t you?’

  ‘But you’ve only just arrived.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But my timing’s not ideal, is it? I’ll go.’

  Eliot looked at me again, this time his head was cocked as if he was trying to weigh me up. He was probably wondering if I was the real deal or a possible impostor.

  ‘Look,’ he said, as I fiddled with the straps on my rucksack. ‘I know you probably think I was out of order for snapping at you before.’