A Taste of Home

by Heidi Swain

  I turned back to find Grandad and Bec exchanging what I could only describe as a loaded look, which nudged my determination to behave up another notch.

  ‘Go and get changed then,’ Bec urged, with a somewhat unsettling smile. ‘The pub will be closing at this rate.’

  Chapter 21

  Grandad left it to me to tell Bec what it was that I had in mind for the farm. She was as excited about it all as I was but in no way satisfied that it was entirely responsible for Eliot’s weird mood. However, knowing it would be a huge mistake to fess up, I kept the real reason for his Tiggerish behaviour to myself.

  ‘Oh look,’ she said as she swung the Banana-mobile into the market square, ‘that’s Anthony’s car, isn’t it?’

  ‘Anthony,’ I said, quickly jumping out the second Bec had applied the handbrake. ‘Are you heading to the pub by any chance?’

  I hoped he was. It would be the perfect opportunity to take him to one side and set him straight about Eliot and tell him that I hadn’t been with him in The Mermaid the other night with a view to sussing him out at all.

  It wasn’t until I got closer however, that I realised Anthony didn’t look in a particularly happy frame of mind. In fact, he had a face like thunder.

  ‘Afraid not,’ he tightly said in response to my question. ‘I was just about to ring and ask if you fancied a run over to this wine bar I know in Peterborough, but something’s come up and I’ve got to work.’

  ‘What, now?’ I frowned.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, chewing his lip and looking riled.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘that’s a shame.’

  I meant about him having to work in the evening, not about me missing out on the trip to the wine bar. The Mermaid was definitely more my scene.

  ‘Well, not to worry,’ he said, climbing in and starting his car. ‘We’ll do it another time. You’ve obviously got plans anyway.’

  He sounded as narky about that as he did about having to work.

  ‘Come on,’ said Bec, as he sped away, ‘otherwise we’ll never get served.’

  Luck was with me in the pub, not only because it was date night for Jemma and Lizzie and their respective partners, but also because Jake and Amber were enjoying a rare evening away from Skylark Farm too.

  ‘Just the folk I was hoping to see,’ I said to Bec, as I took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to approach them.

  ‘I’ll get us a drink,’ she kindly offered. ‘I’m on the lemonade because I’m driving, but you can have a drink, drink. In fact, I think you should. You’ve got more cause than ever to be celebrating tonight.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘Thank you. I’ll have a G and T, please. Something fruity if they’ve got it.’

  I didn’t have time to get too nervous about talking to the group as Amber spotted me and beckoned me over and Jake went in search of another chair.

  ‘I’m with someone,’ I told him, when I realised what he was doing.

  ‘In that case,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll nab two.’

  ‘But we don’t want to intrude,’ I gabbled, ‘I just want a quick word with you all really.’

  Jemma wafted my words away.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘It’s a free for all in here tonight. There’s going to be some music later. Come and meet my other half.’

  Once I’d been introduced to her husband Tom and then Lizzie’s partner, Ben, and Bec had got served at the bar, we all sat, sardine-like around the table.

  ‘This is delicious,’ I said, taking a sip of the very pink gin. ‘Thank you, Bec.’

  ‘It’s blackberry,’ she told me. ‘From the Brambles distillery on the far side of town.’

  ‘I didn’t know there was a distillery in town,’ I said, taking another flavoursome sip.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘it’s a fairly new venture. You might want to think about asking them to come onboard with your plans.’

  I knew that locally sourced drinks would be just as important as the food and I’d already factored the Skylark Farm cider into my ideas. Brambles gin would be a most welcome addition too and I wondered if there was perhaps a microbrewery producing beer somewhere about.

  ‘What plans are these?’ Jemma asked.

  ‘Oh sorry,’ Bec winced. ‘Me and my big mouth.’

  ‘No,’ I reassured her, ‘it’s fine.’

  This was it. This was the moment I’d been hoping for, when I could float the idea to some of the people who had the potential to really help it take off.

  ‘My plans for a diversification project at Fenview,’ I said with as much confidence as I could muster. ‘It’s down to some of you that I’ve come up with it actually.’

  I had everyone’s attention and they all listened intently as I explained how Jake had told me about his desire to do more with the Skylark Farm produce than simply sell it, along with Lizzie’s long-held wish for somewhere local and exciting to eat out in the evenings.

  ‘So,’ I recapped, having gone through it all in as much detail as I currently had, ‘Grandad and I plan to open up the barn to local businesses to serve their produce at exclusive supper club events which will run on at least a monthly basis, possibly fortnightly, depending on the season and the demand.’

  Jemma nodded encouragingly and looked every bit as enthusiastic as she had when she told me of her desire to collaborate with the farm and buy our fruit.

  ‘I’m going to manage the club and the venue, and it will be up to the producers to come up with the menu. We’re also going to invite local chefs and cooks too,’ I added, ‘as long as they use locally grown and sourced ingredients.’

  ‘In that case, I’m in,’ said Jemma, without a moment’s hesitation.

  I could have kissed her.

  ‘And what about Fenview Farm fruit?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Will you be having your own evenings where you serve up dishes made with that?’

  ‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘I have more than enough recipes and if I can pair the desserts with a wine merchant or distillery like the one that produced this delicious gin,’ I held up my glass, ‘then we’ll be in for an amazing evening.’

  Just as I said the last word, I looked over at the bar and spotted Eliot. He’d already seen me but looked away when our eyes met.

  ‘That could be the perfect partnership,’ nudged Bec.

  ‘Yes,’ I stammered, hoping she hadn’t spotted the look that had passed between me and her brother and was referring instead to my desserts and Brambles distillery. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I love it,’ said Lizzie, sounding every bit as excited as Jemma.

  ‘It sounds amazing,’ Amber agreed, looking at Jake who I then realised, hadn’t said a word. ‘Is it going to be possible to prep the food on-site?’

  ‘Eventually,’ I said. ‘But to begin with it will have to be prepared in advance. We need to make sure the idea has got legs before we invest in putting in kitchens and cloakrooms.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll have a problem with planning permission,’ said Jemma’s husband, Tom, who worked for the local council.

  ‘And there’s going to be something else too,’ I mysteriously added. ‘Something really special and very unusual, but I’m not going to share the details of that just yet.’

  Grandad’s fascinating Fenland collection was going to be the perfect extra element to embed that all-important sense of setting and place into the supper club evenings. I wanted everyone who came to the barn to know the captivating history of the area as well as the provenance of what they were eating and drinking.

  ‘Now I’m even more intrigued,’ said Jemma.

  ‘Good,’ I laughed. ‘That was my intention.’

  ‘And what about a name?’ chimed in Lizzie. ‘Are you going to call it the secret supper club?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I frowned. ‘At the moment that’s what’s stuck, and more by accident than design, but it might change.’

  ‘I like it,’ said Lizzie’s partner, Ben. ‘It sounds exclusive and I love that the me
nu will always be changing too.’

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ I smiled. I had wondered if that might be a sticking point, but everyone seemed to understand what it was I was hoping to achieve. ‘I want the ethos of the events to be seasonal, local and fresh. That’s really important, so some dishes might only be available for a very short while. Our currants for example,’ I said, doing my utmost to banish the image of a redcurrant popping on Eliot’s tongue, ‘are going to be ready next week.’

  ‘Oh goodie,’ said Jemma.

  ‘But might be over earlier than usual, which is down to the weather,’ I carried on, ‘and obviously other growers will be impacted by that too and therefore, the menus will reflect the current season and how it’s playing out.’

  ‘It sounds amazing, doesn’t it, Tom?’ Jemma asked her husband.

  ‘I think it sounds great,’ he nodded, ‘and I’m really pleased Bill’s found a better use for the barn.’

  ‘Than what?’ I asked.

  Jemma answered for him.

  ‘He’s just relieved I didn’t talk Bill into selling it so we could convert it, aren’t you?’ she giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek. ‘We’ve gone off the idea now.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Bec. ‘It seems to me that you’ve already got more than enough on your plate.’

  ‘Oh Bec, don’t say that,’ I whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘she might change her mind about signing up for a Cherry Tree evening at the barn.’

  ‘No chance,’ said Jemma. ‘I’m already planning it in my head.’

  Bec looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Sounds like you’re on to a winner,’ she smiled.

  It felt like it too. Or it would if Jake would only say something.

  ‘What do you think, Jake?’ I asked. ‘Is this the sort of thing you had in mind when we talked at Skylark Farm?’

  He shifted in his seat.

  ‘Exactly the sort of thing,’ he confirmed, but he didn’t look very happy about it.

  ‘Oh good,’ I smiled and Amber looked away.

  ‘But the thing is, Fliss,’ he then carried on. ‘I was so buoyed up after that conversation we had that I started looking for other potential venues straightaway.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, my heart sinking, ‘I see.’

  ‘And I found somewhere willing to offer us an exclusive contract to serve our food every few weeks.’

  I felt winded.

  ‘Meaning that if you have Skylark produce events there,’ I asked, ‘you can’t have them anywhere else?’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Committing to them would mean we couldn’t be a part of the Fenview Farm venture. If only I’d known before what you’d been thinking, I wouldn’t have looked elsewhere.’

  It was a blow and I swallowed down the bitter knowledge that had it not been for Grandad’s initial reluctance he would have known. Had I talked to Jake before Grandad, as I wished I had when Grandad initially said no, then he would have been in the loop from the start. The pork and apple products from Skylark Farm were such a major draw, I had imagined their events being some of the most popular by far.

  ‘Is this going to affect our contract, Jake?’ Jemma asked.

  ‘No,’ he told her. ‘Don’t worry about that. It’s just our finished dishes this place is interested in, not the raw produce. We’ll still be able to supply you and carry on selling direct on the farm and at the market too.’

  Amber looked at me and back to Jake.

  ‘But we haven’t actually signed the contract yet, have we?’ she reminded him, offering me a glimmer of hope. ‘Nothing’s been made official.’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘I was all set to next week, but having listened to what you’re planning Fliss, I’m not so sure now. I’d far rather support you and Bill than this other place which was a compromise really and nothing out of the ordinary, but I’d need to see what exactly you have in mind before I commit.’

  ‘Is that going to be possible?’ Amber encouragingly asked me. ‘When’s your first event going to be?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Jemma. ‘You need a trial run, Fliss. That way you can tempt Jake away from this other venue and let us see exactly what you have in mind. You could serve up some fruity desserts, couldn’t you?’

  I puffed out my cheeks, aware that they were all looking at me. This was all happening far faster than I had expected and I had no idea what Grandad would say, but I couldn’t risk losing potential Skylark Farm supper evenings, could I?

  ‘How about next Saturday night?’ I said, embracing Mum’s act first, think later philosophy. On this occasion I thought it more important than my slow and steady approach to things. ‘Are you all free?’

  The answer was a resounding yes and I gulped down more of my gin. It was mad to think that I would be able to pull it off in just a week, especially with everything else that needed doing on the farm, but I didn’t have much choice.

  ‘It will only be a taster of what I have in mind,’ I told them all as they chattered excitedly away and Jake looked at me and smiled. ‘So you can get a sense of what the space is like, and we’ll be sitting on straw bales until I can source tables and chairs so you’ll need to bring blankets and rugs because they’re a bit scratchy.’

  ‘What about glasses and cutlery?’ someone asked. ‘Shall we bring our own?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I can manage those, and crockery, but my budget won’t run to alcohol so please bring whatever you want to drink.’

  There was so much to think about. I needed to start making some serious lists.

  ‘Will that be enough do you think?’ I asked Jake. ‘To tempt you away from this other place, as Jemma put it?’

  ‘I’ll answer that next week,’ he said, with a smile. ‘If that’s all right with you?’

  That was fair enough. Grandad might have been a good friend, but this was business we were talking about.

  ‘Of course,’ I said, feeling more determined than ever to make it all work.

  ‘Here’s to the secret supper club,’ said Jemma, drawing everyone’s attention again. ‘A brand-new venture for Fenview Farm!’

  We all raised our glasses in a toast and then Ben and Tom headed off to help get the music started and I went to the bar for more delicious gin and another lemonade for Bec.

  ‘I take it explaining your plans for the farm went well?’ said Eliot, who suddenly appeared beside me.

  His breath was another gentle caress as he had to lean in to make himself heard and just like before, I felt my skin tingle in response, only this time more intently.

  ‘Quite well,’ I managed to shout back, over the opening bars of a rousing Mumford & Sons tune. ‘Not quite as perfectly as I’d hoped, but…’

  ‘What?’ Eliot mouthed.

  ‘I said… Oh never mind.’ I shook my head, knowing it would be impossible to explain now everyone was joining in with the lyrics.

  ‘Dance with me!’ Eliot yelled, as a few people filled the tiny space in front of the piano and began moving with abandon.

  Before I could object, he took my hand, twirled me around and pulled me close. Without a care for the tune, he then enthusiastically joined in with the singing and I didn’t have time to feel self-conscious, but then, looking at his happy face and shining eyes, I found I wasn’t. I just wanted to dance and sing and sway and stay in his arms as we all laughed, danced and drank the night away.

  We weren’t quite the last to spill out into the square, but we were somewhere among the stragglers. The Cherry Tree and Skylark crews had left with cries of how much they were looking forward to the supper club and I was so relaxed I didn’t feel panicked about it at all.

  ‘I’ll follow you back,’ said Eliot, turning his bike around as I grappled with the seatbelt in the Banana-mobile.

  ‘That was a great night,’ I said to Bec. ‘Thank you for inviting me along.’

  I’d really felt a part of the community and I appreciated Bec including me. I hadn’t felt that sense of belon
ging among a crowd in a while and it was wonderful to feel welcome both at the farm alone with Grandad and further afield among the friendly Wynbridge folk.

  ‘I’m pleased you had a good time,’ she laughed, coming to my rescue because I couldn’t seem to make the belt fit into the holder.

  It turned out I was trying to shove it into the seat.

  ‘That was a typical Saturday night in town, so you’ll have to get used it because you’re one of us now.’

  I rather liked the sound of that.

  ‘And I have to say,’ she impishly added, ‘you and Eliot looked really good dancing together.’

  ‘He danced with everyone,’ I pointed out.

  ‘But he kept coming back to you,’ she quickly batted back.

  I couldn’t deny that because he had.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand next week, getting everything ready,’ she kindly offered. ‘I know there’s only so much you’ll be able to do, given the time limit, but I’ll do whatever you ask of me so you’ll have the hours to make it look as close to what you’re imagining as possible.’

  ‘I’d really appreciate that,’ I told her, feeling suddenly more sober again. ‘I’m going to start making some lists tomorrow and working out what to prioritise. Even though this is just a trial run, I need it to go well if I want to get Jake and Amber onboard.’

  We were soon back at the farm and I clambered out and waved her off, but unlike the other night, Eliot stopped.

  ‘I bet you’ve forgotten your key, haven’t you?’ he said, once he’d pulled his helmet off and climbed off the bike.

  ‘Oh bugger,’ I said, clapping my hand against my forehead. ‘I have. I didn’t give it a thought.’

  The house was in darkness, so I didn’t think Grandad had realised or waited up just in case.

  ‘Lucky I’ve got mine then, isn’t it?’ said Eliot, pulling a chain out of the neck of his T-shirt.

  ‘What else have you got tucked down there?’ I giggled.

  ‘Never you mind,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  I’d only taken a couple of steps towards the house when I happened to look up.