Honey Bun

by Natalie Kleinman

  “Like a time warp, Betty. I feel as if I must have been whisked here in the Tardis.”

  “I think you’ll find we’ve advanced with the years. There’s even a free Wi-Fi connection in Honey’s tea shop. Did you go to see her? I know how you used to haunt the place.”

  It wasn’t very subtle but Betty made the most of the privilege of being an old friend, having been housekeeper in the old days. Family retainers weren’t above planning romances any more than the rest of society and she’d always liked Honey. Guy’s response wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for. He brushed off the question by saying, “Yes, but that was when Basil was there,” told her he’d walked the length of the High Street and then quickly changed the subject.

  “Would it be all right if we did that inspection now? I’d like to meet the residents. Will I know any of them apart from Daisy Bunting?”

  “You’ll know them all, Guy. Everyone is local and there’s a great demand for places.”

  “Hopefully we’ll have more space if my plans work out.”

  “You’re going ahead then?”

  Guy had discussed the project with Betty. She would be an integral part of the whole enterprise and he would need her advice and co-operation. It wasn’t for her to question his motives in keeping certain aspects secret; he’d asked for her discretion and he would have it.

  “How are you, Daisy? I hope you don’t mind me using your first name. You never used to when I came into the tea shop.”

  Guy sat in the chair next to Honey’s mother. When he’d entered the room she’d been watching the wall-mounted television, fiddling with the hand control, jumping from one channel to another.

  “Now then, my dear, didn’t I say we’d put this to one side and leave it on the channel with all your favourite programmes?” Betty said, gently removing the remote from Daisy’s fingers. “Why don’t I switch it off for a while and you can have a nice cosy chat with Guy. Do you remember him? He’s a friend of Basil.”

  Daisy looked at Guy without any sign of recollection but when he said, “I don’t know if you recognise me but I certainly remember your chocolate fudge cake,” her face lit up like a beacon.

  “It’s my favourite too. My children always fight over who’s going to lick the bowl. Do you know them?”

  “I do indeed; or at least I did. Until this afternoon I hadn’t seen Honey for several years.”

  “You like honey?”

  Guy tried to ignore the renewed feeling of resentment at the mention of her name.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I prefer jam myself.”

  At first he thought she was joking but then realised she was a little more confused that he’d first thought. He hoped her memory would mend along with her limbs. Guy spent a few more minutes with Daisy before going to meet the rest of the residents, all of whom were familiar to him and some of whom were obviously delighted to see him back. After a while he met up with Betty again and told her he was going back into Rills Ford for dinner and not to wait up for him.

  It took a lot of resolve for Honey to visit her mother, or at least The Grange, after work. She’d been busy after Guy left and hadn’t had time to analyse her feelings. She realised her reaction might have seemed over the top and was ready to discuss Guy’s plans with him more calmly – if he was prepared to discuss them at all after the way she’d behaved. Not that I have any intention of backing down. I meant what I said. Only maybe I was just a bit more forceful than I should have. She needn’t have worried. Betty greeted her at the door with the news that Guy had done a tour of inspection and had gone out for dinner. So much for us eating together. Honey found her mother watching an old soap.

  “Hello, Mum. Neighbours again. Does it remind you of Basil?”

  “Basil? Is he the one with the long blonde hair?”

  “No, that’s Scott. Basil is your son. He’s married now. He lives in Australia with his wife Lucy and their little boy, Tom. ”

  Honey remembered the photo Guy had given her and took it out of her bag.

  “Look, this is Tom; your grandson.”

  Daisy looked at the picture with interest.

  “See here,” she said pointing to a cluster of freckles on Tom’s cheek and mistaking what they were. “Naughty boy. I bet he’s been at the chocolate bowl, just like his father used to”

  At a loose end now that her dinner with Guy hadn’t worked out, Honey did what she ought to have been doing in the first place and went home to bake. This was how she usually spent the hours after the shop closed, except on a Saturday, her only regularly free evening. Just as well he stood me up or I’d have been working half the night. Only he didn’t really stand me up, did he? If I’m honest I brought most of it on myself.

  Honey had time to reflect as she was measuring out ingredients. It’s not like me too be on that short a fuse. Was it all about my concern for Mum or was some of it because Guy threw me off my stride the moment he walked through the door? She made no attempt to answer that question but something had certainly upset her because two of her cakes went straight into the bin, an almost unheard of occurrence. She was satisfied with the rest though and at nine thirty she phoned Suzie.

  “Hello, Suzie. It’s Honey. I’ve just finished baking for the night. I don’t suppose you fancy a quick one at the Rose and Crown?”

  “I’m sorry I can’t, not a quick one anyway.” Honey heard her giggle. “I’m already on my second. What do you fancy? A glass of red as usual? I’ll have it waiting for you.”

  “Just give me five minutes. I’ve got so much to tell you. You’re not going to believe it.”

  “Me too.”

  Honey walked into the Rose and Crown to find Suzie sitting at the bar talking to Guy of all people. Taking a deep breath she went to join them. Guy’s greeting was polite if somewhat lacking in welcome.

  “I hear you two have met already today. Guy’s just been telling me about some of his plans for The Grange. I’m thinking of running a small piece in the Rills Ford Post. What do you think?

  “Guy already knows what I think though I might have put my reasons a bit too forcefully,” Honey said, smiling at him and hoping this tentative semi-apology would clear the air between them.

  “Well I understand your concerns; of course I do. Particularly after I went home and visited all the residents. I thought things were going quite well when I saw Daisy. I mentioned chocolate fudge cake and her eyes lit up, but then she talked about you licking out the bowl and I realised she was thinking about when you were children. Unless you still lick the bowl out,” he replied, meeting her more than half way.

  “I may do occasionally, purely to ensure that I’ve got the mixture right you understand. In fact, I’ve just come from baking another batch.”

  “That would account for the chocolate in the corner of your mouth then.”

  “You’re joking,” she said, absolutely mortified.

  “Yep. In fencing I believe it’s called a riposte.”

  “I can see you haven’t lost your somewhat warped sense of humour then. Why don’t you pop in tomorrow and sample some of the cakes. It isn’t all chocolate fudge.”

  “I’d love to. Would the afternoon be okay? I have an appointment at the Planning Department in the morning.”

  The atmosphere changed perceptibly as Guy’s words reminded her about the project.

  “Whenever you like,” Honey replied but the warmth had gone out of her voice. Soon after that Guy left and Honey and Suzie moved to a vacant table.

  “Fancy him coming back after all this time. Maturity hasn’t diminished any of his charm, has it?”

  “I’d like to charm him right away from here and as for maturity…chocolate in the corner of my mouth indeed! Don’t you see, Suzie? He’s come back rich and famous and he thinks he can do the lord of the manor bit.”

  “I suppose to some extent he can.”

  “Well he can think again. We don’t live in a feudal system any more and I’m not having him ride rough
shod over us all just so he can play with his bricks.”

  “You think it’s that bad?”

  “Potentially, Suzie, yes I do. The smallest thing upsets Mum at the moment though she hides it well. She’s hardly even settled in properly yet and you can bet any upheaval will be disturbing. I’m sure some of the others are the same; and this is not the smallest thing by any stretch of the imagination.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been to The Grange and in all honesty I’m not even certain it’s fit for use. The heating system is antiquated and some of the doorways have lips; easy to trip over.”

  “Whose side are you on!”

  “I’m not on anyone’s side but you’ve got to admit it isn’t perfect. I want what’s best for the community as much as you do and I appreciate you’re closer to it than I am, what with your mum being there. Persuade me if you can that what Guy is proposing is wrong.”

  “Right! This may take a while and I need another drink. Same again?”

  Honey went to the bar and stood with her back to Suzie while she waited. She spent the time trying to organise her thoughts, to subdue her indignation. When she sat down, armed with a dish of peanuts, she was feeling calmer. Suzie had her notebook open in front of her. If she was going to do an article Honey knew she would be scrupulously fair and report things as she saw them. Honey would need a strong argument if she wanted to refute the justification of the supposed improvements.

  “Guy’s very keen, you know, and frank too. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know about conditions at The Grange. Some of the rooms are en suite but some don’t even have a wash basin and toilet. In this day and age that’s just not acceptable. One tiny lift was installed when it began functioning as a care home but it’s hardly enough in case of emergency. In fact, I’m surprised it’s even passed inspection. Convince me why it shouldn’t go ahead.”

  “Okay, I’ll try. For a start let’s talk aesthetics. Rills Ford is an old town in the heart of the English countryside. Have you seen any of his work? Do you think a purpose built structure of that sort would fit in? The expression sore thumb comes to mind. I think the local population would support me on that one, don’t you? Secondly, who the hell does he think he is? He’s behaving like some Russian oligarch coming in and taking over OUR town. He’s dropped out for fourteen years and now he thinks he can waltz right in and take over. Things don’t happen like that.”

  “I think you might find they do, but carry on; what else?”

  “My mum; everybody’s mum, and dad, or anyone who might potentially need to go into care. It’s homely at The Grange; comfortable; familiar; proper furniture. You know before she went there I looked around to find what would be best for her. Every single place I saw was absolutely soulless. They were clean and tidy but I felt as though I was in a hospital ward.”

  “All right, you get a point for that one.”

  “It’s getting harder, not easier. And if it’s not broken why mend it?”

  “But parts of it are broken, Honey. You know that. I need a stronger argument.”

  “Many of the elderly are subject to deterioration in their condition if they’re stressed and any change is stressful. Okay, maybe I can see that at the time of initially going into care improved facilities would be beneficial, but for those already there it could be disastrous. Even for the new residents, nobody wants to live in a pseudo-hospital.”

  “I agree you’ve presented your case well. Give me time to mull it over. Yes, I know you’re in a hurry,” Suzie said when she saw impatience spread all over Honey’s face, “but if we’re going to have any hope of succeeding we need to think this through carefully. I don’t tell you how to do your job so please don’t tell me how to do mine.”

  “You heard what he said. He’s going to the Planning Office tomorrow. We have to do something before he pushes this through.”

  The Story So Far

  “You know, Jack, at first I thought she was just being over-emotional about the whole thing but she does have a point.”

  Jack bristled slightly and though Suzie knew he was sweet on Honey she didn’t really think she’d said anything he could take exception to merely because she’d suggested her friend might be a tad carried away by her feelings.

  At least he doesn’t know how I feel about him. Despite having joined the paper originally because of a schoolgirl crush I’m a damn fine journalist now and I’d like a bit of credit for what I’m doing.

  “You’re right; she does.” A couple of years behind Jack in school, Guy had never been one of his favourites, Suzie knew, envying him his easy manner and the way everything had seemingly fallen into his lap. “I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve his success. I’m sure he’s a talented man who’s worked very hard over the years but why he wants to come back now and turn the place upside down beats me,” he said, grudgingly acknowledging the other’s achievements.

  “Perhaps he genuinely wants his home back. There’s plenty of land at The Grange but it is his land and he’d be giving it up if he builds a new care home there.”

  “And being paid handsomely for the privilege I have no doubt.”

  “You think that’s what this is all about, Jack? Money?”

  “Why else would a jetsetter come to an out of the way place like Rills Ford?”

  “Why indeed?”

  Suzie had had plenty of time overnight to reflect and she could smell a good story a mile off, and this was much closer than that. She had no axe to grind as far as Guy Ffoulkes was concerned but like most people she wanted to protect her environment. No more than Honey did she want a new care home to be built in the grounds of The Grange though her reasons weren’t entirely the same. Honey’s priority, she was sure, was her mother’s welfare. The safety of the residents was an important factor to Suzie too but the prospect of a modern eyesore in her beautiful town weighed heavily on her. Sometime during the night a vague idea had quickly formulated into a definite plan, a plan that would make one helluva good story and with luck would achieve its aims as well.

  “I’m thinking of running a piece on Guy, something about him returning to his roots but wanting to plant new pasture,” she said to Jack over a cup of coffee the next morning.

  “Okay, we’re pretty quiet this week but remember, you’ve only got until tomorrow evening before we go to press.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  Suzie knew she’d have to work fast. If Guy was going to the Planning Office this morning who knew how advanced things were. She had to hope it was only the submission stage. It didn’t seem logical Guy would have put in his application from abroad and she knew he’d only just returned from Australia. It was more than likely though he’d already completed his architect’s drawings. The more she thought about it the more she felt sure there was time in hand, but not time to waste. She had some planning of her own to do. She drafted her piece and edited it until she was satisfied it was ready to run by Jack.

  Famous Rills Ford Boy Returns to his Old Patch

  After an absence of fourteen years renowned architect, Guy Ffoulkes returns to put down his roots. However, in claiming his former home, is he also tearing up those of the current residents? While wishing to restore The Grange to its former glory, Guy plans to create a purpose built care home within his grounds but are his intentions admirable or selfish? Do we want a hideous piece of modern architecture within the confines of our town? Whilst I can admire Guy’s past creations, everything has its right place and Rills Ford is not it, not if previous examples of his work are anything to go by.

  Secondly, but to no lesser degree, the current occupiers of The Grange are amongst the most vulnerable of our population. For many already sensitive people it might be a turning point…and not for the better. Will this be the catalyst to send them on the downward spiral? Are we going to stand by and let that happen? How many fortunes does one man need to make in a lifetime? Your opinions please by email, text or tweet to the usual addresses below.

  Suzie took a for
ty minute break for lunch and spent it in the Honey Bunny Tea Rooms. There she found her friend rearranging the various things on offer after the morning coffee customers had made inroads into some of her cakes. There was a small but carefully chosen lunchtime menu which Honey provided not out of choice but as a perceived necessity. Cakes were her speciality and quiches and fresh sandwiches were bought in from a local though well thought of supplier. Morning and afternoon were her busiest times but there was a steady patronage in the middle of the day for those who wanted either to take something back to their place of work or, more often, sit in the quiet comfort of the tea rooms.

  “I see you’ve got that amazing egg and tomato’y thing again. Perhaps if I just have a small slice I might be able to manage a piece of coffee and walnut gateau.”

  “Far be it from me to turn away custom, Suzie, but didn’t you say you were trying to cut down.”

  “I’ve spent the morning burning up a lot of calories on my latest story,” she paused for effect. “The one about Guy.”

  Honey sat up and took notice. At least she would have done if she hadn’t already been standing. She nearly dropped the quiche on the floor.

  “You’re running the article then?”

  “What do you think? Of course I am. It’ll make a great piece. No, don’t look at me like that. I’m fully aware of your vested interest but this is important to us all. Glass, steel and sharp lines really don’t go hand in hand with quaint cottages and thatched roofs. I’ve decided to organise a petition.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea!”

  “And one to be kept under your hat, though I agree it’s a very pretty hat,” Suzie said, alluding to the white lace mob cap Honey always wore to work. “It will have much greater impact if it comes out without any foreknowledge. All I have to do now is to try and persuade Jack to run it on the front page.”

  After a hastily eaten lunch Suzie went back to the office, more than satisfied with her day so far. She’d sworn Honey to secrecy, satisfied that nothing would be said. It wasn’t in her friend’s interests at all to spike her guns.