A Taste of Home Page 5

  ‘I’m sorry about our inability to turn a phrase,’ said Louise, when she came out to join me a few minutes later. ‘This has all been such a shock.’

  ‘For all of us,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, sitting on the grass next to me. ‘For all of us and I don’t want you to misconstrue or take anything that Eliot might foolishly say to heart. It’s really not personal or aimed at upsetting you, he’s just very protective of Bill.’

  ‘I can see that,’ I conceded. ‘My grandfather is very lucky to have Eliot in his corner.’

  ‘Their relationship works both ways, Felicity,’ she smiled.

  ‘What does that mean?’ I asked. ‘And it’s Fliss. No offence, but everyone calls me Fliss, not Felicity.’

  ‘Fliss then,’ she nodded.

  ‘What do you mean about things working both ways?’ I prompted.

  As one we looked towards the house where Eliot had just come out with a basket of laundry which he then started to peg out on the old-fashioned washing line.

  ‘He’s very fond of your grandfather,’ Louise quietly said, still watching her son.

  ‘That much is more than obvious,’ I smiled. ‘You’d have to be an idiot not to realise it. Not everyone would give up their holiday to look after a grumpy old man.’

  ‘He’s not really a grumpy old man,’ Louise smiled back. ‘From what Eliot told me the doctor said, you just caught him at the wrong moment.’

  ‘That’s good to know,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to think that bad-tempered was his go-to.’

  ‘It’s really not,’ she carried on. ‘He was a saviour to my son when he was a teenager.’

  ‘How so?’ I asked, turning from staring at Eliot to look at her.

  She took a deep breath and a moment to compose herself.

  ‘As you’ve no doubt worked out, I had Eliot quite soon after your mum had you. I had fallen in love and married a local lad but he tragically died young and Eliot went off the rails quite badly until Bill took him under his wing. Your grandfather helped him find a purpose again. He kept him busy here on the farm, out of the bad company he’d fallen into and consequently out of further mischief.’

  The way Louise spoke so fondly about my grandfather and the protective feelings Eliot obviously had for him, made me wonder what had been the problem between him and Mum. From what I’d just heard, he didn’t sound like a man who was difficult to get along with. What had happened between my two relatives that caused a rift that lasted, in Mum’s case, a lifetime?

  Then I remembered some of the fallings out Mum and I had gone through when I hit my teens. I supposed other people’s family were quite often easier to get on with than your own, weren’t they?

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to Louise. ‘About your husband I mean.’

  It must have been so hard for her, struggling with her loss and an angry teenager.

  ‘Thank you. It was a difficult time, but we eventually moved on.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘It is,’ she agreed, then sagely added, ‘but you can’t rush grief. You have to let it run its own course if you’re going to deal with it properly and you must accept that it never leaves you. It becomes a part of you and you learn to live with it.’

  I didn’t much like the thought of carrying the way I was feeling now around with me for ever.

  ‘It will get easier,’ Louise then added, gently resting a hand on my shoulder. ‘In time it won’t be as all consuming as it is now.’

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear of crying again. I’d naively thought I was all cried out after Mum’s funeral but the well was still far from dry. A day hadn’t yet passed when I hadn’t succumbed to tears at some point. So much for assuming that coming here would take some of the edge off how much I missed her.

  We let the silence settle around us for a while, but I eventually broke it. I needed to move the day on.

  ‘Thank you for fetching me back,’ I said. ‘I’m pleased we’ve had this chance to talk.’

  ‘So am I,’ she smiled. ‘I can’t tell you how lovely it is to meet you. I wish it had happened twenty-eight years ago, but there we are.’

  ‘At least it’s happened now,’ I said, standing up and brushing the grass off my legs.

  ‘Exactly,’ she agreed.

  ‘I asked Eliot not to say anything about me to my grandfather and I still stand by that, Louise.’ She looked aghast, but I pressed on. ‘Like Eliot pointed out, this new hip marks a return to health for him and he doesn’t need to have his fresh start hindered by my arrival and news of what’s happened to Mum. He’s lived without her for almost thirty years and, given the circumstances, I think it would be best if he continued to do so.’

  Louise shook her head and I walked back over to the house before she launched her counter-argument. I knew she was going to try and make me change my mind and given the emotional low ebb I was at, I had a feeling I might just relent and that wouldn’t be any help to my grandfather’s new beginning at all.

  ‘It was nice to meet you, Eliot,’ I said, picking up my rucksack again.

  ‘You’re not leaving?’ he asked, looking up from the magazine he was reading.

  ‘As soon as your mum starts her car.’

  ‘But you can’t…’

  ‘I must,’ I said over him.

  ‘Are you sure, Fliss? Is that really what you want?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what Felicity wants,’ said Louise, who had followed me inside. ‘There’s only one person whose opinion really matters in all of this, and that’s Bill’s.’

  ‘But his fresh start,’ I reminded her. ‘We agreed nothing should jeopardise that. Didn’t we? Eliot?’ I said, turning and appealing directly to him.

  He looked at his mum and puffed out his cheeks. I knew in an instant that he’d swapped sides, the traitor.

  ‘Finding out that Mum’s gone will be the worst news he ever hears,’ I told the two of them. ‘And he didn’t even know Mum was pregnant, so I’m no loss to him at all.’ Mother and son looked at each other and then at me. ‘You’re both mad,’ I told them. ‘This is wrong.’

  ‘More wrong than the two of us knowing about Jennifer and you and keeping it from him?’ Eliot questioned.

  ‘I don’t think I could live with myself,’ said Louise, shaking her head. ‘Especially now I’ve met you, my love.’

  This was all wrong. We were supposed to just be having a chat and then I was going to leave. Earlier on the road, that was what we’d agreed.

  ‘I should never have come,’ I muttered again, more to myself than them. ‘And now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have let you bring me back.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Louise, her tone full of certainty and a determination I knew I couldn’t beat, ‘you should. Your mum wanted you to come here for a reason, Felicity, and I think you should stay.’

  I wanted to remind her that I was Fliss, not Felicity, but for the moment had more pressing concerns.

  ‘So do I now,’ said Eliot, backing her up. ‘I know I let you go before, but that was a mistake.’

  Louise looked delighted, but then she would, she was winning.

  ‘Don’t overthink it,’ she said, reaching for my hand. ‘And don’t think too far ahead. Just take one step at a time.’

  Her choice of words pulled me up short. That was exactly what I’d told the Rossis I was going to do.

  ‘For now,’ Louise carried on when I didn’t protest, ‘let’s just say you’re staying until Bill’s recovered from his infection.’ Eliot nodded in agreement. ‘Give him a day or so to get back to his old self, and in that time, you can think about whether you want to talk to him or not.’

  ‘But he’s already seen me,’ I reminded her. ‘And I’ve told him my name. It’s already a total mess.’

  ‘Nothing we can’t fix,’ she briskly said, her tone victorious. ‘Right, Eliot?’

  ‘Right,’ he said, backing her up. ‘We’ll work something out. It’ll all come good in the end.
’

  I wasn’t sure it would, but looking between the two of them, I had no choice but to accept that the next few steps I took would be walked in the Fens.

  Chapter 5

  When Louise had reassured me that she and Eliot would find a way to sort out the muddle surrounding my arrival, I had assumed that she meant by offering me a bed at their place, with a trip or two back to the farm when my grandfather was recovered from his infection. However, it turned out that wasn’t any part of her plan.

  ‘Oh Mum!’ Eliot protested, when she explained what she did have in mind. ‘That’s a ludicrous idea.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ she responded, every bit as determinedly as her son. ‘This is the Brown family home and I think it’s important that Felicity stays here. It’s the ideal opportunity for her to get to know the house and the farm where her mother grew up.’

  There was no way I was going to agree to that. ‘That’s impossible,’ I told her. ‘I’ll book into somewhere in town. I’m not risking bumping into my grandfather before he’s completely recovered again. I couldn’t bear another awkward encounter. I’ve already lied about who I am once, I’m certainly not going to put myself in a position where I have to do it again.’

  Eliot nodded his approval but Louise waved my concerns away.

  ‘Bill’s so out of it, he won’t remember that,’ she airily said.

  ‘Well, that’s good then,’ I readily agreed. ‘And while we’re waiting for his meds to kick in, I’ll bide my time in town and come back again when Eliot says he’s all better. That way it’ll be like starting from scratch. We can pretend that my arrival at the farm then, is my first.’

  There was so much of this ill-fated day that I already wanted to forget and I hoped that some time on neutral territory would help me do that. The town had looked warm and welcoming so I’d take on the role of tourist and hang out in the pretty café and shops and explore the market. Wynbridge had reminded me of the town I knew in Puglia the second I stepped off the bus, so the familiarity would be bound to settle my nerves and make me feel more at home. I wouldn’t need to tell anyone who I was. I could take a leaf out of my mum’s book and play the part of the mysterious traveller. Only she genuinely had been that person.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ said Eliot, coming to stand next to me in a show of solidarity and treating me to a waft of his wonderful aftershave.

  I flashed him a grateful smile. For taking my side, not for his heady scent. I didn’t want him getting wind that I appreciated that.

  Unfortunately, Louise was far from convinced of the merits of my plan.

  ‘Can I have a word please, Eliot?’ she said to her son. ‘Excuse us for a minute, will you, love?’

  She led Eliot outside and even though I couldn’t hear what was being said, their body language suggested if not an argument, then a heated discussion was taking place. It didn’t look as flamboyant as the arm raising Marco and Alessandro sometimes went in for, or sound as dramatic as their rapid-fire Italian, but it wasn’t far off.

  I dodged out of sight of the door when they turned to come back in, hoping Louise hadn’t somehow got her son on her side again but he’d already come around to her way of thinking once.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Eliot sheepishly said, rubbing a hand around the back of his neck. The gesture told me immediately that he’d been coerced and cajoled. ‘I think you should stay here. Get to know the place, like Mum said. Settle in a bit while Bill gets better.’

  His face was bright red by this point and I wondered what Louise had said to make him change his mind. There was very little conviction behind his words. He clearly wasn’t convinced his mother’s idea was the right one and neither was I.

  ‘If you’re all the way back in town, it’ll be awkward fetching you in and out,’ said Louise, adding weight to Eliot’s poor performance, but I could tell that wasn’t anything to do with her real desire to keep me on site.

  I didn’t know what her real desire was, but it wasn’t the inconvenience of having to drive me about.

  ‘I’ll be working,’ she further said, ‘and Eliot only has the bike so it won’t be easy for either of us.’

  ‘That’s no problem, I can use the taxi,’ I shrugged. ‘That was how I got here and it was cheap enough. I wouldn’t want to put you out, although I wouldn’t mind riding pillion if push came to shove.’

  Marco would be green with envy and Eliot looked momentarily thrilled but then caught sight of Louise’s arched eyebrows.

  ‘I won’t be able to leave Bill,’ he muttered, avoiding my eye.

  Credit where it was due, Louise had done an extremely good job convincing him to agree with her mad plan.

  ‘But where will I sleep?’ I said, clutching at the very last straw I could think of. ‘I’m not taking my grandparents’ bed and I certainly wouldn’t sleep in Mum’s old room.’

  ‘There’s a spare,’ Eliot huskily said.

  ‘But you’ll want that.’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ he said, his tone apologetic. ‘I’m going to sleep in the room with Bill. I can’t risk being anywhere else in case he decides to go for a wander and falls. Doctor Clarke will zip him straight back into hospital if there’s even the slightest hiccup and I’m not going to be the one responsible for putting him, or the nursing staff, through that trauma again.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ said Louise, bringing the conversation to a close that satisfied her but no one else. ‘You’re staying here. Eliot can go on the floor in the room where Bill is and you’ll be in the spare room. Oh, and here’s Rebecca,’ she added, looking to the door as a car pulled into the yard.

  ‘Who’s Rebecca?’ I asked Eliot as she rushed outside.

  ‘My little sister.’

  Not another one! I didn’t think I could cope with more of the Randall clan and the sigh which spontaneously escaped my lips let him know it.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Eliot smiled, picking up on my reluctance to become acquainted with more of his relatives. ‘You’ll like her. She’s fun.’

  Thankfully, he was right.

  Rebecca was a sparky young woman, with her mother’s head full of curls, only hers were dark blonde and long, rather than greying and she was dressed in bright, floaty clothes. She was only a year younger than Eliot, but she had a kind of youthful exuberance whereas her brother and I perhaps came across as a bit more world weary. He was right about her being fun. The atmosphere in the kitchen had become rather oppressive but it lifted and lit up the moment she walked in.

  ‘I’m really sorry about your mum,’ she sincerely said, after Louise had introduced us and explained who I was but how, for now, my identity had to be kept a secret. ‘But how amazing is it that you’ve found your way here?’

  I wasn’t sure it was amazing yet, but her bright smile certainly made me feel a bit better about life.

  ‘You mustn’t say anything to anyone,’ Eliot sternly told her. ‘That’s really important.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she pouted, before turning her sparkling eyes back to me. ‘And you must call me Bec, not Rebecca.’

  ‘And I’m Fliss,’ I smiled back. ‘Not Felicity.’

  Louise had introduced us using our full first names, but we obviously both preferred the abbreviated versions.

  ‘Fliss,’ Bec grinned, side eyeing her mother. ‘Cool.’

  ‘I don’t understand you girls.’ Louise tutted. ‘You’ve both got beautiful names and yet you refuse to use them.’

  Bec ignored this and I got the distinct impression that it was a comment she’d heard many times before.

  ‘I’m going to head into town for supplies for Eliot,’ she told me. ‘Is there anything I can pick up for you? Or would you rather come with me?’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ I hastily said. ‘I could do with a couple of things now I know I’m going to be staying for a day or two.’

  I didn’t really need anything, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get away from the farm, and Louise’s w
ell-meant bossiness for a little while. The last few hours had been intense and some time out would give me the chance to draw breath, think things through and get my head around everything.

  ‘I’ll just grab my purse and phone,’ I said, rifling through my rucksack.

  There was no chance to think anything through en route however, because Bec talked all the way into town and by the time she parked her battered bright yellow 2CV next to the market which was packing up for the day, she had given me a potted history of her entire life. Even though my head was spinning, her monologue had been an entertaining distraction and I was surprised to find myself feeling calmer.

  She was an artist, recently graduated from Norwich University of the Arts, and in the process of setting up her own studio at home. She was currently specialising in abstract paintings. Huge canvases full of colour were what she loved most and given her outfit and sunny disposition they sounded very ‘Bec’ to me.

  She was happily single, straight and hoping to travel the world, when she could afford to, to further fuel her inspiration. She was as free flowing as the river running under the bridge we’d driven over and she really reminded me of Mum.

  Bec hadn’t shied away from talking about what I was going through and readily told me what she’d felt and experienced when her dad died. And, not that I was looking to form any hasty attachments to the place, but I loved her already.

  ‘You can tell me about yourself on the drive back,’ she grinned, when she realised, she hadn’t given me the chance to say a word.

  ‘There’s nothing much to tell,’ I shrugged.

  ‘Rubbish,’ she said, locking her car. ‘I don’t believe that for a second. Mum said you grew up in Italy. How can you have nothing to say about yourself with a start in life like that?’

  I laughed and shook my head. Bec was obviously a glass half-full kind of girl, but she was right. I had had an unusual start in life, what with growing up with the Rossis and joining Mum on many of her adventures before I decided to settle, and now of course, it was about to become even more intriguing.