by Heidi Swain
‘Thank you,’ I smiled, feeling warmer still. ‘They were my mum’s.’
‘They’re stunning,’ she nodded. ‘Your mother has impeccable taste.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed.
‘Are you looking for something in particular?’ she then asked, taking me in. ‘You’re a size ten, right?’
‘I’m almost always a twelve,’ I told her. ‘Depending on the cut.’
In my early twenties I had been a consistent ten, but all the time spent eating in Nonna’s kitchen had added a few lingering pounds, in spite of the physical work involved on the farm. I was grateful for the hard toil though. Had I not had the benefit of it, all those calories she loved to fill me up with would have stuck fast.
‘And I need something for a dinner date,’ I added. ‘Somewhere special.’
‘Somewhere special,’ Bella repeated, sliding on her glasses which hung on a chain around her neck. ‘Give me a moment, I think I have just the thing.’
I was pretty certain that she wouldn’t, but I politely waited while she disappeared through a curtain into what I guessed was her stock-room.
‘What about this?’ she asked, dashing back and presenting a dress with a flourish. ‘Isn’t it perfect?’
To my surprise and delight, it was just what I was looking for. A simple, black Bardot midi dress which fit and skimmed in all the right places.
‘There,’ she said, standing back, once she’d zipped me into it. ‘Oh, hold on.’
She went back to the till and returned with a large tortoiseshell patterned hair claw.
‘I know it doesn’t match, but just put your hair up so it’s off your shoulders,’ she urged, looking at my reflection in the mirror, ‘then we’ll get an even better idea.’
Lifting my hair further enhanced the vision and I was amazed to see myself looking so chic.
‘Shoes,’ said Bella, whizzing off again.
‘Size six,’ I called after her.
‘Funnel heeled, platform toe with a rounded tip. I have these in black, mustard and red.’
The pair I slid my feet into were black.
‘I rather like the red,’ she said. ‘But these are probably the more sensible choice.’
Suddenly, I didn’t feel much like being sensible.
‘Can I try the red?’
Finished with a small red clutch, I felt transformed. Gone was the girl with fruit juice stained hands and denim cut-offs and, in her place, stood someone elegant and sophisticated. Still with slightly pink fingers, but even so. I wasn’t sure I knew who the person looking back at me was.
‘A nice pair of earrings to finish it off,’ Bella nodded, ‘and you’ll be all set. I can do you a deal if you take the dress, shoes and the bag. I’ll give you a minute to think it over.’
She twitched the dressing room curtain closed and I swished this way and that before looking at the price tags. Even with a discount, the dress was a bit out of my league. It wasn’t extortionate, but as I was watching the pennies, I couldn’t really justify spending quite so much on just one outfit.
Feeling disappointed, I slid off the shoes and unclipped my hair.
‘So, what do you think?’ Bella asked, when I emerged dressed in my everyday clothes. ‘Are you going to go for it?’
‘I would love to,’ I sadly said. ‘But I don’t think I can really afford it. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.’
‘I haven’t told you what the discount is yet,’ she warmly smiled.
‘I know,’ I said, ‘and I really appreciate you offering me one, but I’m going to have to leave it for today.’
‘All right,’ she said kindly. ‘But it will all be here if you change your mind.’
I appreciated that she wasn’t rankled, but I left feeling rather down in the dumps and rushed over to the library where I had to wait to speak to Grandad’s friend before I could log on to a computer. I wasn’t going to have time to look for anything online now, so I would either have to cancel my plans with Anthony or ask if he would be willing to dial down the ‘special’ and replace it with a bar meal. I had a couple of cotton summer dresses that would pass muster in the pub.
Mindful of the time, once seated, I quickly logged into my email account. Just as I’d hoped, there was a reply from Puglia and I braced myself to read it. I hadn’t even got through the first couple of sentences, before I realised that my fears that the Rossi relatives would feel abandoned were entirely without merit.
Marco wrote how his father and Nonna had given him a talking to after I’d gone and once he had stopped sulking and properly taken onboard the importance of me embracing my new life at Fenview Farm, he had knuckled down, got to grips with my role and thrown himself into it. The very end of the email soon set my tears flowing.
This from Papà…
Marco signed off and Alessandro took over.
Darling Fliss, you will be delighted to read that Marco is completely committed and working diligently every day. I know it’s early days, but so far, everything is running like clockwork and even though we miss having you here, we are managing, so it’s fresh starts all round. I hope that is a comfort to you and allows you to carry on with your new life, with your family, without worrying about us.
I didn’t have a tissue, so wiped away the silent tears which slid down my cheeks with the back of my hand, hoping no one would notice what a state I was in. The relief I felt was immense and I was in no way prepared for the wave of emotion it unleashed.
Again, I wished the internet had been connected at the farm earlier so I could have sobbed in private. I sniffed hard and blinked, trying to compose myself, but I couldn’t seem to stop and reading on didn’t help at all.
And before you are feeling completely redundant our dear Fliss, both Marco and I know only too well that we wouldn’t be managing at all if you hadn’t done such an amazing job in setting everything up. You have established something wonderful and unique for Nonna and us to carry on with and for our guests to enjoy. We will always be grateful for the wonderful legacy you have left us.
More tears fell as I clicked on the attachment and an image of Nonna, Alessandro and Marco standing together and smiling out at me filled the screen. They were in the orchard, under the very tree where I had read Mum’s life-changing letter.
I wondered if Marco had remembered the significance of the spot or if it was just a coincidence. Without meaning to, I let out a little sob.
‘Fliss,’ said a voice behind me and a whole bundle of tissues appeared over my shoulder. ‘Take these.’
I quickly grasped them and noisily blew my nose.
‘Thank you,’ I croaked, turning to find Eliot, of all people, standing right behind me.
‘Oh Fliss,’ he said again, having taken in the state of my face. ‘What on earth’s happened?’
He dragged over a chair and sat beside me, shielding me from the curious looks of the other library users.
‘Nothing bad,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ he smiled. ‘Although if this is how you react to good news…’
I found my lips curving into a smile. I supposed my reaction was a bit extreme, but I couldn’t have lessened it if I’d tried.
‘This is the Rossis,’ I said, nodding at the screen, ‘who I lived with in Puglia. My darling Nonna, her son Alessandro and grandson, Marco.’
Eliot leant further in.
‘No wonder you’re crying,’ he tutted. ‘Fancy leaving behind a hunk like that.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I said, beginning to feel better. ‘Marco’s like a brother to me. Or did you mean Alessandro?’
Eliot looked relieved that I had made a joke.
‘The silver fox of course,’ he grinned. ‘Seriously though, don’t let Bec see this. Marco is just her type.’
‘Is he?’ I asked, looking at the screen with fresh eyes.
‘She’d fall into a dead faint if she caught sight of him.’
I mopped up the last of my tears,
wiping away the final traces of mascara and shut down the email.
‘Feeling better now?’ Eliot asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ he said wheeling his chair closer still and putting an arm around my shoulders. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re managing to cope so well with everything you’ve got going on in your life right now, Fliss.’
‘It has been a bit full-on recently,’ I conceded.
‘A bit,’ he smiled.
‘All right, more than a bit.’
‘And you know, I’d do anything I could to help you, don’t you?’
He leant in and softly kissed my cheek and I felt my heart start to clamour. If I turned my face, just the slightest bit, our lips would be just millimetres apart. It would be stupid to do it, but I was going to. I was powerless to resist and if I leant in just a little further still…
‘Is everything all right over here?’ came a voice behind us. ‘Eliot?’
‘Yes,’ he said, clearing his throat, backing his chair away and taking his luscious, soft lips with him. ‘Thank you, Miriam. Everything’s fine.’
Everything was not fine thanks to Miriam’s interruption. I was pretty certain Grandad’s friend wouldn’t have ruined the moment on purpose, but then I came to and realised that Miriam had actually just saved my bacon and stopped me making a gargantuan gaffe.
‘Thanks for the tissues,’ I said to Eliot, reaching for my bag. ‘I’ll see you later.’
I didn’t give him the chance to say anything further. I dashed out of the door and went straight back to Bella’s. I needed that date with Anthony more than ever now and I was going to look my very best for it, whatever the cost. The shock of what I’d almost just done ensured I was dry-eyed by the time I burst back into the boutique.
‘You’ve changed your mind,’ Bella beamed, not noticing my red-rimmed eyes. ‘I knew you would.’
In fact, she’d been so sure, that she’d got everything boxed, wrapped and in a bag and she’d applied a generous discount, along with a very pretty hair slide.
‘You’re going to absolutely knock their socks off,’ she winked once the transaction was complete and she handed over the bags.
‘I certainly hope so,’ I told her, feeling determined.
Grandad was waiting next to the Land Rover when I finally got back to the market square.
‘Sorry I’ve taken so long,’ I puffed.
‘You’re fine,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been finished all that long. Are you all right? You look a bit flustered.’
‘I’m okay,’ I insisted. ‘Just a bit hot from all the rushing about, that’s all.’
‘Do you need more time? I didn’t realise you had so much to do.’
‘No, I’m sorted now. Did you get everything done that you wanted?’
‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘All sewn up at the solicitors and the bank manager was sympathetic too. He wouldn’t extend the overdraft, but in view of the new contract, he was happy to give us until the end of the year to start making a dent in it.’
‘That’s wonderful news,’ I practically cheered.
‘He’s also looking forward to finding out what your big ideas are too,’ Grandad smiled. ‘So, I hope you’ve been giving them some thought, my girl.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I grinned. ‘I have.’
‘That’s all right then,’ he nodded. ‘And I bumped into Eliot too.’
‘Oh, did you?’ I casually asked, as I opened the back door of the Land Rover and carefully placed my bags inside. ‘I bet he wanted to know how you’d got here, didn’t he?’
‘He did and I told him.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘After the success of the hospital appointment, he said he thought it was no bad thing that I was upping the activity and stretching a bit more and that the apple crate was just the thing.’
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ I nodded. ‘I always knew it would be.’
‘And he’s definitely coming to set my laptop up tomorrow night and he’s offered to cook dinner too, if that’s all right with you.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ I said, ‘but I won’t be there, I’m afraid.’
‘Won’t be there?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m going out for dinner.’
‘Oh,’ said Grandad, sounding shocked. ‘Anywhere nice?’
‘I have no idea,’ I told him. ‘It’s a surprise.’
‘Who are you going with? Is it Bec?’
‘No,’ I secretively said. ‘It’s a chap I met in town the day I arrived. He’s very nice and don’t worry, he’ll have me home before his car turns into a pumpkin.’
‘I see,’ said Grandad, looking slightly perplexed. ‘I didn’t realise you knew anyone here other than the Randalls and Somervilles.’
‘And the Cherry Tree ladies,’ I reminded him. ‘But he’s nothing to do with them either.’
‘Right.’
‘Now,’ I said, thinking I’d given him more than enough intriguing information to let Eliot know I had intentions elsewhere, ‘do you want to go to the pub?’
‘Not now,’ he said, wincing as he eased himself up and into the Land Rover. ‘I just want to get home, if that’s all right.’
He did look tired.
‘Of course,’ I said, picking up the crate. ‘You sit tight while I run over to the Cherry Tree. Jemma’s promised us something sweet for the weekend.’
‘How did she like the strawberries?’
‘She was thrilled with them,’ I told him, with another grin. ‘But then she would be, wouldn’t she? You can’t beat any of the fruit from Fenview Farm.’
‘That you can’t!’ he smiled back.
Chapter 16
True to her word, Jemma sent Grandad and I back to the farm with the most delicious treat – a full afternoon tea for two, complete with local cream, some of our very own strawberries transformed by her meringues and a delectable array of both sweet and savoury treats.
We ate it all as soon as we got back, and as a result neither of us were good for any further activity and spent a lazy few hours under the apple tree in the garden. Unbidden, my mind kept wandering back to the almost kiss with Eliot in the library, but I determinedly swapped it out for thoughts of the beautiful dress hanging in my room. I was tempted to try the whole outfit on again, but didn’t dare risk it with a belly full of carbs!
* * *
I woke early on Saturday and felt jittery all day. It had been a long time since I had been on a date, and never a faux one, and the fact that this one required a certain amount of preparation and smart new clothes made it all the more nerve-wracking.
I had a long run early in the day, followed by a shower and then another trip to Wynbridge where I stocked up on groceries and a new nail polish. Once back at the farm, I calmed my nerves the only way I knew how – in the kitchen.
‘Is all of this for just the two of us?’ asked Grandad, when he came in from cleaning out the hens.
‘Pretty much,’ I said, looking at the very British selection of savoury flans, sausage rolls, cheese scones and straws filling the table.
‘I’ll be the size of the barn by the time I’ve eaten my way through this lot,’ he commented, pinching a still warm cheese straw. ‘And the doc will be moaning about my weight again.’
He chewed for a few seconds and nodded appreciatively. ‘But never mind,’ he smiled. ‘These are a bit different. What’s in them?’
‘Smoked bacon, cheddar and a little paprika,’ I reeled off.
‘Very moreish,’ he said, leaning in for another, but I batted his hand away.
‘They’re supposed to be for the freezer,’ I told him. ‘All of it is really.’
Fresh homemade desserts were my real passion, but there was more to my current cooking marathon than taking my mind off my dinner date and satisfying my sweet tooth.
‘Well,’ said Grandad. ‘I did wonder. Not that we couldn’t eat our way through this l
ot in one sitting, but for a minute there I thought you’d forgotten Eliot was cooking tonight.’
How could I possibly have forgotten that?
‘No,’ I said, ‘I haven’t forgotten. This is all for when the harvest is properly in full swing. The last thing either of us will want to do then is too much cooking. This will be ready and waiting when we want it and it will fill us up too.’
‘That’s a very good idea,’ Grandad nodded. ‘In the past, it was always the wives who came out to feed the troops at mealtimes during harvest, especially on the arable farms. I suppose times have changed a bit now and the women are as likely to be driving the machines as slaving over the stove.’
‘That’s true,’ I agreed. ‘I know Mum never used to help out here, but what about Nana?’
‘Oh yes, Felicity did,’ said Grandad, sneaking another straw. ‘We always worked together. We were equals in the farm and in the house. She used to work on the market in town during the winter months while I was here and then it was my responsibility to have dinner on the table and run the vacuum about.’
I was impressed.
‘Although, I never got the hang of ironing,’ he reminisced. ‘I could do everything else, but not that. I did try many times, but I was never any good at it.’
‘Me neither,’ I laughed.
While I bagged and labelled everything for the freezer, cutting the flans into meal size portions so we wouldn’t be defrosting them whole and then eating them for days on end, Grandad sought out the photo albums he had mentioned the day before.
By the time I needed to start getting ready, I felt as though I had been whizzed through an emotional spin cycle. There were albums going as far back as my great-grandparents and it was wonderful to have the visual blanks finally filled in.
‘You’re right, Grandad,’ I said, picking out a photo of my namesake. ‘Even I can see it, in spite of my different colouring. I do look like her, don’t I?’
‘Yes,’ said Grandad. ‘You can keep that one out if you like.’
‘I’d rather have this one,’ I said, swapping it for another.
It was of him and Nana on their wedding day, standing outside a church in Wynbridge flanked by their respective parents.
