by Heidi Swain
‘The Ducati?’
‘Yes. How much would you say a bike like that would set you back?’
I puffed out my cheeks and thought about the catalogues and price lists Marco used to leave lying about. I did a quick mental calculation, exchanging euros for pound sterling.
‘Depending on the model, but brand new, somewhere between fifteen and thirty-five thousand, I would think.’
Anthony whistled under his breath. ‘Thirty-five thousand. Jeez.’
‘That’s top of the range,’ I pointed out. ‘I don’t know where the bike that Eliot rides fits on that scale.’
‘How do you know about the prices though?’ Anthony asked. ‘I wouldn’t have had a clue.’
‘I have a Ducati obsessed friend,’ I said. ‘Besides Eliot, I mean.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘I don’t see how Eliot buying a motorbike could be cause for gossip.’ I shrugged.
Anthony leant further forward. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit strange that a guy who still lives at home with his mother and sister and who cares for old folk for a living, could afford a machine like that?’
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘Plenty of people have finance. He’s probably making payments. Living with Louise must be cheaper than living alone so he could afford to do that.’
‘But what if it’s all paid for?’
‘How do you know it is?’
‘I don’t,’ Anthony admitted, sitting back again. ‘But let’s pretend we do and it is.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Well maybe he had a win on the lottery.’
‘Not likely.’
‘Inherited some money then?’
‘Bingo,’ said Anthony. ‘That’s more like it. Well, sort of.’
‘How can you sort of inherit some money?’
‘If an elderly woman you’re looking after dies and she leaves you a lump sum in her will.’
‘Well, there’s no law against that, is there?’ I snapped, not at all liking the libellous insinuation this obviously nasty rumour was gearing up to infer.
‘If the person named in the will had undue influence over the person who died, then there most likely is.’ Anthony expanded. ‘If the person in the position of trust made themselves indispensable and made the other person feel beholden to them…’
‘So, that’s what this rumour amounts to, is it?’ I interrupted, narrowing my eyes. ‘That Eliot looked after this woman with a view to getting his hands on her estate?’
Who on earth could possibly think that? Certainly, none of the people I’d come across in Wynbridge or the surrounding countryside. Granted, my social circle might have been somewhat limited, but it didn’t alter the fact that what Anthony was saying was absurd.
‘From what I’ve heard, yes,’ he confirmed.
I shook my head, rolled my eyes and reached for my glass again. The look on Anthony’s face suggested that wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting.
‘You’re not at all concerned about that?’ he asked. ‘Given this guy’s closeness to your grandad. You’re not at all troubled?’
‘You just told me,’ I swiftly reminded him, ‘to promise you that I would remember that this is just a rumour. Idle town gossip and hearsay, were your exact words.’
‘But even so…’
‘No,’ I said, cutting him off. ‘This is ridiculous, Anthony. Eliot’s loved by absolutely everyone.’ I felt my face flush a little when I said that. ‘I might not have been in the area long, but I’ve never heard or seen anything to back this nastiness up.’
We sat in silence for a minute or two then. I finished my champagne and Anthony ground his teeth. He looked more than a little put out that I had dismissed him so adamantly.
‘I only mentioned it out of concern for your grandfather,’ he eventually said.
‘I’m sure you had the best of intentions,’ I responded, although actually I wasn’t all that convinced he had.
‘It’s just that Eliot’s always had an eye for things that don’t belong to him,’ he then carried on, encouraged by my comment. ‘He was cautioned for shoplifting when we were at school and, having heard the rumour, I’ve been wondering if he might have moved on to bigger things than aftershave and PlayStation games.’
‘Are you suggesting that he’s got his eye on inheriting Fenview Farm?’ I snapped. ‘Because that’s preposterous!’
‘I’m not suggesting anything,’ Anthony recoiled, but he clearly was.
The date wasn’t going how I had expected it to at all. I might have agreed to it to make Eliot think I wasn’t still harbouring feelings for him, but after our heated moment in the library and the way I had just defended him to Anthony, I wasn’t sure it was worth it. Perhaps denial was futile.
‘Are you all right?’ Anthony asked. ‘You look a bit peaky.’
‘I’m fine,’ I told him. ‘But I would like to go home now, if that’s all right with you?’
‘I’ve ruined the evening, haven’t I?’ he said, with a hangdog expression.
‘Yes,’ I truthfully said. ‘You have.’
We were both quiet on the taxi journey home and my head was spinning. I knew what Anthony had told me was total rubbish, but now it was stuck in my head and I resented him for that. I briefly wondered if I should mention it all to Eliot, but knowing it would upset him, I resolved to try and forget about it. Easier said than done of course.
I noticed the stars were shining as the taxi reached the drove road which led to the farm. There wasn’t a single bit of cloud cover. Had the meal gone better, it would have been a romantic end to the evening. Not that I had romantic feelings towards Anthony. Far from them now.
‘I’m sorry I’ve messed up,’ he said.
‘It’s fine,’ I replied, although it wasn’t. ‘You don’t really believe it though, do you? The rumour about the woman’s will, I mean?’
He hesitated before answering. ‘Well, no.’
‘You’re a rubbish liar,’ I accusingly, said.
‘Had I not known about what happened when we were at school,’ he shrugged, ‘I most likely wouldn’t have given it a second thought.’
I was sure that brief anti-social interlude would have been part of what Louise had talked about when she told me about her husband, Eliot and Bec’s father, dying. It was little surprise that Eliot had had a moment of angry rebellion at some point when he was growing up, was it? And it in no way meant that he’d moved on to bigger things now he was an adult, as Anthony had implied.
‘It’s all completely wrong,’ I firmly said.
‘I sincerely hope so,’ Anthony nodded.
‘Can you stop here, please?’ I asked the taxi driver.
We were a little way away from the farm, but it was later than I had been expecting to get back and I guessed Grandad would be in bed. I didn’t want the sound of a car on the drive disturbing him.
Anthony and I both climbed out and I thanked him for the meal. He didn’t make any attempt to kiss me and I was relieved about that.
‘I’m going to call you,’ he said, leaving me at the top of the drive. ‘Very soon and we’re going to go out again, and I’m going to make amends for the balls up I’ve made of tonight.’
‘Right,’ I said, refusing to say anything which might salve his conscience. ‘Goodnight, Anthony.’
As I reached the back door, aided by the torch on my phone I heard the taxi pull away and realised that I had no way of getting in. I had posted the house key through the letterbox before I left. I took a step back, checking to see if there were any lights on, but the house was in darkness and I was just about to try and ring Anthony and ask him to come back, when the floodlight in the yard came on and the back door opened.
‘Eliot,’ I gasped.
‘Come in quick,’ he said, ‘and I’ll turn the light off again.’
I hadn’t noticed the bike anywhere, so he was the last person I expected to see. I had assumed he would have been long gone and I would have had the chance to shrug what Anth
ony had said off before we talked again. At least now he got to see me all dressed up for my date though. That said, all of a sudden and in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter anywhere near as much as it had before.
‘Why are you still here?’ I whispered. ‘Is everything all right with Grandad? I thought you’d be gone by now.’
‘He’s in bed,’ Eliot quietly said. ‘He was shattered so I said I’d wait for you, as you hadn’t got a key.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’m going to get some more cut so this won’t happen again.’
‘Are you likely to stay out this late again then?’ he asked, his brow furrowed.
‘I might,’ I said, biting my lip.
‘Well,’ he said, taking me in. ‘I’m not surprised your date was a success, you look gorgeous. Completely different to how you usually look.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Not that you don’t usually look good,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. ‘But whoever had the pleasure of your company tonight, was very lucky indeed.’
He sounded a bit put out and I should have been pleased that he’d got the message that I’d moved on. My masterplan was bearing fruit, but the taste it left in my mouth was surprisingly bitter.
‘Thank you,’ I said again, turning away to take a glass out of the cupboard.
I just wanted the evening to be over now. My feet were throbbing and my body wanted to be free of the confines of the dress and back in its familiar, and much looser, loungewear.
‘Oh, and before I forget,’ Eliot then said, ‘Miriam from the library asked me to give you these.’
I really didn’t want to be reminded of the library.
‘What are they?’
‘A couple of leaflets about opening times and clubs and things, I think.’
He held them out and I felt my face flush as I took them.
‘You left in such a rush that she didn’t get the chance to give them to you herself,’ he unnecessarily pointed out.
‘I didn’t want to keep Grandad waiting,’ I told him, putting the leaflets on the table and draining the glass I’d filled to avoid having to look at him, ‘and I still had things to do.’
I rinsed the glass out and put it on the drainer.
‘I’ll get off then,’ Eliot said.
‘All right,’ I said, moving to open the door. ‘Thanks for waiting for me to get back. I didn’t much fancy having to sleep in the barn with the cat.’
Now I knew he was leaving, it was easier to talk.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he smiled, looking a little sad.
For a moment, I thought he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.
‘Night,’ I brightly called after him. ‘See you soon.’
I quickly locked the door and leaned back against it, gratefully slipping off my shoes and wishing that I really did have as tight a control of my feelings for him as I had just convinced him I had.
Chapter 18
I had quite a hangover the next morning, but it wasn’t the ordinary, average, run of the mill effort. This descended, not only as a result of the two bottles of champagne Anthony and I had emptied, but also because of the emotional wringer that I’d been squeezed through before, during and after drinking them.
A morning spent baking in a hot kitchen was tiring enough, but then there had been the photograph albums, the gift of the beautiful earrings from Grandad, the ulterior motive surrounding my first date in ages, the indigestible rumour about Eliot and the awkward exchange with the man himself which topped the twenty-four hours off. It was no wonder I was feeling below par. It had been one hell of a day.
I had my fingers crossed that my plans for Sunday would buck me up a bit. If they went according to plan, they should totally restore my zip and zeal and give Grandad a hefty dollop too.
‘Afternoon,’ smiled Grandad when I ventured down to the kitchen just after eight. ‘Good night, was it?’
‘It was interesting,’ I told him, as I rifled through the medicine cupboard for painkillers. ‘It didn’t end quite how I thought it might, but it was okay.’
Grandad narrowed his eyes. ‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ he frowned. ‘You got home all right, didn’t you?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said, quickly quashing his concern. ‘All safe and sound.’
‘That’s all right then,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘Are you ready for a bit of breakfast? I was just about to scramble some eggs.’
‘That would be lovely,’ I gingerly nodded. ‘But first, I want to give you these back.’ I put the box containing the ruby earrings on the table. ‘I don’t mean for ever, just for safekeeping. I’d feel better if they were with the other pieces in your room, with the watch and everything, where they’ve always been. I haven’t got anywhere like that to keep them.’
Mum’s bangles were consigned to a jangling, and comfortingly familiar, pile on the nightstand.
‘That’s a good idea,’ Grandad agreed. ‘Did you enjoy wearing them?’
‘I did, but it took me ages to stop checking them. They’re beautiful, and the family history makes them even more precious, so I was terrified of losing them.’
Grandad smiled and I wished the farm had a safe or something, somewhere we could keep the contents of the box properly locked away.
‘I can understand that,’ he said. ‘I feel the same about the watch.’
‘But you did tell me yesterday that we shouldn’t save things for best,’ I reminded him. ‘Don’t you ever wear it?’
‘I haven’t been anywhere in a long time that’s warranted putting it on.’
That didn’t surprise me. As he’d already said, it wasn’t an appropriate timepiece to wear while picking fruit or convalescing and from what I understood, he hadn’t recently done much else.
‘Be a love,’ he said. ‘You go and put the earrings away while I get on with the eggs. It would save me having to negotiate the stairs again.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be moving a bit more,’ I pointed out.
‘I’ve been moving all morning,’ he tutted. ‘I had to walk across the yard to let the hens out and collect the eggs because you were in bed, sleeping the day away.’
Given that it was still much nearer eight than half past I thought that was slightly unfair but when you were used to getting up with the sun in the summer, I supposed my later than usual appearance did appear a bit lackadaisical.
After breakfast, during which we agreed that next time I was in town I should get another couple of sets of farm keys cut, I got ready to head outside. Grandad was full of enthusiasm for his laptop and planning to fire it up and get to know his way around it a bit better. Eliot had suggested it would be a good idea ahead of the internet being connected the following week.
‘That way I can hit the ground running,’ Grandad beamed, clearly looking forward to the delights of discovering life online.
‘That’s an excellent idea,’ I said, pulling on a pair of wellies.
It was too warm for them really. I would have to add a short pair, like the ones Amber at Skylark Farm favoured, to my shopping list. Though not designer ones. A functional Dunlop duo would be good enough for me.
‘What are you up to today?’ Grandad asked. ‘I had a look at the strawberry rows and there’s nothing that’ll need picking before tomorrow. The cloud cover yesterday seems to have halted putting the paint on them a bit.’
I was pleased about that because I did have something specific in mind to get on with, and it didn’t involve being bent over the strawberry rows. With the main fruit harvest beginning to peep over the horizon, I knew that my time was soon going to be limited so I intended to grasp the nettle while I could.
‘It’s a secret for now,’ I mysteriously said.
Grandad looked at me over the top of his glasses. With the laptop in front of him, he looked almost studious.
‘All will be revealed later,’ I told him. ‘In the meantime, if you can just stay inside until I come and
get you it would be much appreciated. I’ll only be about an hour.’
‘All right,’ he agreed, looking at the screen again.
‘We aren’t expecting company, are we?’
Given what I had in mind, I didn’t want any interruptions, from anyone. This was strictly going to be for Grandad’s eyes only.
‘Not as far as I know,’ he answered.
‘That’s all right then. Now, you stay in here and I’ll see you in a bit.’
I walked down to the barn and took a proper look at the roof. It didn’t look in the slightest bit dipped to me, and the walls were sound and the doors were hanging straight, so I dismissed Anthony’s concerns about its safety and ducked inside.
It didn’t take me long to realise that having everything ready in an hour was an extremely optimistic target. Even within two hours, I still wouldn’t be able to have things exactly how I wanted them, but I would hopefully be able to make a decent enough presentation to convince Grandad to agree to what I had in mind.
Rather than launching straight in, I spent a few minutes, taking stock and getting a feel for the space before deciding how best to arrange it. Next, I pushed, dragged and carried everything I wouldn’t need to the far end, which left me with a large central area and space along the back wall.
Lugging the bales about kicked up a fair amount of dust, but eventually, I had things set as well as I could get them, and I stood back to admire my handiwork. In my mind’s eye, I could see it all properly finished – clean and welcoming, with twinkling fairy lights and Grandad’s much-treasured Fenland collection adding that all important USP.
I could hear the chatter of happy voices, the sound of glasses being raised in a toast, cutlery going to work and music playing quietly in the background. If I could pull my big idea off, our barn could have the potential to not only secure the future of the farm, but also help a few other people pursue their own dreams, and I hoped Grandad had enough imagination to conjure the vision as I could see it.
I knew I was getting carried away, and that the project wouldn’t come together overnight, but what was the point in having dreams if you never pursued them? The contract to supply the Cherry Tree Café was a good one, it meant that there was still value in growing fruit at Fenview Farm. However that, along with supplying Chris on the market and Jake at Skylark Farm, wasn’t enough to guarantee a secure future, but what I imagined creating inside the barn might be. It could be more than enough to keep the bank manager off our backs and the farm in the black.
