For the next ten minutes, I clicked on everything – his photos, his status updates and people’s comments. He had over six hundred friends and now one more was added to his list … me.
Once more I received a notification and clicked on it. ‘You are now connected to Sam Reid,’ the message read, ‘say hi with a wave.’ The green circle next to his name showed me he was online. For a second I hovered over the button wondering whether to press it, but I couldn’t believe my eyes when he beat me to it.
‘Thanks for the friend request x’
The smile hitched wide on my face.
‘You’re very welcome! x’
Chapter 10
Later that day, the rain had dried up and the sun was shining down on my face as I sauntered up the long drive towards the farmhouse, clutching Grandie’s keys.
Grace was back from her audition but with a few errands to run, Connie had given her a lift into town. With both of them busy for a few hours, I’d taken the opportunity to wander up to the farm and have a good look around. I knew at some point today I needed to phone home and talk to Mum, but I was putting off the conversation for as long as I possibly could.
Grandie’s proposal was playing on my mind, and I wanted to spend a couple of hours with only myself for company. After letting Marley out of the kitchen and giving him a fuss, we both headed into the courtyard. Billy was in his stable, his head hanging over the door, and as I rubbed his nose he nudged me back. I used to spend hours stroking his wiry mane and there was something very relaxing about grooming a pony. I stood still and furtively took a glance around; of course there was no one there. ‘Right Billy, you up for a ride?’ Billy threw his head back and gave a soft neigh. ‘That’s a yes then,’ I smiled, thinking it had been a long time since I’d sat on a horse. There was a time I’d loved ambling around the field on his back with the wind blowing in my hair and my wellies dangling from my little legs that had been too small to reach the stirrups. Glancing around the stable, the tack was still hanging up in the very same place. The saddle looked tiny, but I pressed my lips into a small smile and slipped the reins over his neck.
‘Just like old times, Billy,’ I said, patting his neck before unbolting the stable door. Standing on an old crate, I swung my leg over him and settled on his back.
‘Whoa!’ I said out loud, trying to steady myself. It seemed higher up than I ever remembered, but then I had to stop myself from squealing in delight as instinct kicked in and I gripped the reins.
‘Are you ready, Marley?’
He padded excitedly from one paw to another, wagging his tail.
With Marley by my side, I kicked my legs softly and Billy began to plod slowly forwards. There was a bridle path that ran all around the edge of the farm and we clomped towards it through the barns and buildings. The hens scattered and clucked at the sound of the hooves on the rough concrete surface and quickly disappeared to the other side of the yard. There was squawking coming from the far barn, the noise of a hen laying her eggs. It was a sound I’d never heard in New York and one I’d missed.
I remembered the day of my eighth birthday when Grandie had given me my very own chicken, and I’d named her Enid. Everyone at school had thought it was super cool to own your own hen and it was that very day I became a businesswoman when Grandie had put me in charge of the eggs. Every day, I had to collect them, which wasn’t as easy as it sounds, as they were never laid in the same place. I’d discover bundles of colourful eggs in the hedgerows, in hay bales and even in Grandie’s old straw hat which he’d left in the barn.
Each morning, I would place the egg boxes along with an honesty box outside the gates of Honeysuckle Farm and each night after school I’d run home and count the coins.
That summer, I’d helped Grandie lug huge wicker baskets to the apple orchard to collect the windfalls and distribute them to the neighbours – apple pie a-plenty. I smiled now at my memories as we plodded along in the sunshine. ‘This is the life,’ I said out loud, soaking in the peace and quiet, a far cry from the busy pace of New York City life.
Once on the bridle path, the view was spectacular. A cow mooed, making me jump, her head poking through a hole in the hedgerow, and the sheep were dotted about in the fields at the bottom of the valley. I ducked my head under a low-hanging branch, then stopped to admire a deer that loped through the woodland. It was such a beautiful sight it made my heart swell.
Stopping Billy with a pull on his reins, I took a moment, glancing back over my shoulder. There was Honeysuckle Farm in all its glory. Like Grandie had reminded me, the farmhouse and the land had been in his family for generations. Mentally, I’d already moved back here, I didn’t want this place being sold to just anyone. This place was brimming with our memories, our family history. My chest heaved and I reached out a hand and patted Billy’s neck. This was home, but if only it was that simple. Deep down I hoped Mum would see sense because I could never envisage anyone else living here, it wouldn’t seem right.
Kicking Billy on, we arrived back at the stable thirty minutes later. After thoroughly enjoying myself and feeling relaxed, I jumped off and tied him to the wooden post before giving him a handful of carrots. Marley headed towards the water trough and gulped the water before lying down on the ground. Noticing the pitchfork resting against the barn, I began to shovel the manure out of the stable into a wheel barrow. It had been a long time since I’d shovelled manure, and the fork seemed a lot smaller than when I was a child, and easier to manage. I noticed I was slipping back into country life quite easily.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jim in the greenhouse harvesting tomatoes. He was just how I remembered him, wearing the same green overalls and the same green wellies. I made a mental note to say hello before I headed back to Grace’s cottage.
The ride on Billy had put me in an excellent mood and feeling relaxed and content, I groomed him before letting him loose in the bottom field. He headed straight towards the stream for a drink.
Feeling at home, I decided to have a mooch about and noticed the ramshackle barn just to the left of the annexe. Sliding the rusty bolt on the door, I pushed it open and glanced around. This was a place I used to often hang out, making my own amusement, jumping off the hay bales and climbing up into the rafters, which had been boarded out. There were stacks of flowerpots, garden tools hanging off the walls and my old yellow bike with two flat tyres. I couldn’t believe it was still there after all this time and it looked so tiny leaning against the wall. There was an old-fashioned lawnmower covered in cobwebs and bags of chicken feed stacked up in a corner. I scooped up a handful of corn from the open sack and threw it outside for the chickens to peck on.
‘Hey, what sort of welcome is that? You don’t need to pelt corn at me!’
Startled by the voice, I spun round – my heart beating wildly – and met the smile of Ben.
‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing here?’ I asked, walking back out into the sunshine and sliding the bolt back across the door.
‘Clearing out the gutters and doing a spot of painting for your grandfather. He often uses our company.’
‘Aww, I see.’
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook outside the barn door.
‘I thought I’d enjoy some time with this fella,’ I ruffled Marley’s head, ‘and for old times’ sake I’ve just taken Billy out for a ride along the bridle path.’
‘Judging by the colour in your cheeks, you enjoyed it.’
‘I did.’
We began to walk, and Marley followed close at my heels.
‘It’s good to see you back here, where you belong. Your grandfather has missed you, you know. He’s always talked about you.’
I nodded, ‘I’ve missed him and this place.’
I saw the corners of his mouth lift slightly. ‘You are funny with the slight American twang to your voice.’
I grinned, ‘Give me a week or two and no doubt I’ll slip
right back into a Midland accent.’
‘Remember how rich I thought you were when I found out you had a pony and lived here?’
‘Lady Alice, you called me, then bowed. Bigger than Buckingham Palace, you said.’
Ben gave a chuckle, ‘It is such a beautiful, calming place.’
‘It is.’ I stood still and scanned my eyes over the estate.
‘I love the days I work here, that view, the peace and tranquillity is better than working on any noisy building site.’
We paused on the little wooden bridge across the stream. Marley was already knee deep, paddling in the water. Ben bent down and handed me a stick which I promptly threw into the water before leaning on the rail and staring out over the fields.
‘Time for a walk?’ he asked, and I nodded.
He followed me across the bridge and we headed towards the farmer’s gate on the other side of the field.
‘Have you ever thought about being anything other than a builder?’ I probed, still thinking about Grandie’s proposal. My dreams of stardom had never quite worked out and for the first time I was considering other possibilities. Maybe, re-opening the dance school was just the push I needed to get my life back on track.
‘Nah, my passion for building started off when I was knee high to a grasshopper. Every school holiday I’d tag along with Dad, hang out around the building site, ride in the wheelbarrow and mill about in the empty shells of houses, mesmerised by how it all became a real house,’ he laughed. ‘I love my bright-yellow hat, and look at these muscles …’ he flexed his abs. ‘Who needs a gym?’
I chuckled and rolled my eyes in jest.
‘Don’t get me wrong, there are good days and bad. Winter days are the worst, lack of progress due to the frost and days when you are so cold you can’t feel your hands, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Especially when there’s a patch of empty land and over time you transform it into a family home, right in front of your eyes.’
‘What’s it like being part of a family business?’
‘Great, it gives me a sense of belonging, knowing I’m working damn hard and one day my own flesh and blood might take over my little empire and share the same dream.’
The glint in Ben’s eyes and the passion in his voice were obvious to anyone.
He turned towards me, ‘And look at you, always doing what you wanted to do, born to be a dancer, a performer. The whole village thinks of you as their own little superstar. We’ve all been half-expecting to see you on that dance show one day.’
I raised my eyebrows, unsure what he meant.
‘Strictly Come Dancing or whatever it’s called. I’m not really up on TV shows,’ he said blithely with a twinkle in his eye, ‘but I bet you’d get a Ten from Len.’ He gave me a wink.
I swiped his arm playfully, ‘Do people really expect me to be on a TV show?’
‘Maybe a slight exaggeration, but things seem to be going great for you over in the States.’
I sighed before I could stop myself.
‘What’s with the sigh?’
‘It’s nothing,’ I said unconvincingly.
‘Come on Parker, are you missing New York?’ He stared at me before perching on top of the farm gate. ‘Suddenly, you look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.’
He didn’t know the half of it. My mind switched to my own dilemma: Mum or Grandie, England or New York?
Sitting side by side, I closed my eyes and tilted my face towards the sunshine. ‘More than you’d ever know.’ The words slipped out and I pressed my lips together.
‘Hey, I’ve got a spare shoulder, you know, if you want to talk.’ He playfully bumped his shoulder against mine and I wobbled on the top of the old rickety gate.
‘Don’t do that, I’ll fall,’ I smiled warmly towards him, then fixed my gaze on Marley who lolloped after a hare which promptly disappeared amongst the hedgerows, leaving him sniffing frantically.
‘I wouldn’t know where to start … Did you ever feel it was an easy option, working for your dad when you left school?’ I asked, steering the conversation back towards him.
Ben blew out a breath. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? It was far from easy, with his outstanding reputation around these parts. He’s never had to advertise for work, it’s always been word of mouth. There were times when he was harder on me than the other builders and for the first few years I was allocated all the menial, dirty jobs that no one wanted to do. And of course, I was chief tea-maker, which drove me insane! However, with all that practice, there’s no disputing I make a decent cup of tea now.’
‘Every cloud,’ I smiled, jumping off the gate.
We strolled back up the lane. Marley ran in front, nose to the ground, and led the way to the stile behind the annexe.
‘I certainly had, and still do have a lot to live up to. Yes, when we left school the lads were envious. I didn’t have to go for interviews, or go to college, and I’ve learnt on the job, but there was always that niggle in the back of mind – would I be good enough, could I actually run the business by myself one day and step into Dad’s shoes? But there was fire in my belly to prove my worth and if you don’t give it a go, how will you ever know? Without blowing my own trumpet – which obviously I am – I think I’m doing all right so far.’ His face was unmistakably brimming with pride.
I listened to his words … if I didn’t give it a go, how would I ever know …? But what if I accepted Grandie’s offer and made a complete hash of it?
‘Come on, let’s get back and you need to do some work or I’ll be reporting you to the boss,’ I joked.
‘So, what’s with all the questions?’ he raised an interested eyebrow.
I didn’t want to give anything away, not until I’d spoken to Grace. And, of course, there was a conversation that I needed to have with Mum.
My gaze dropped to the floor and I took a deep breath. ‘I’ve not told anyone yet,’ I paused, ‘but I’ve got a decision to make.’
‘What decision?’
‘Do I stay or do I go?’
‘Huh? I don’t understand. Stay or go where?’ he asked, squinting at me in the sunlight while steadying my climb over the stile.
‘I’ve said too much already. As soon as I know you’ll know. But you, Ben Carter …’ I wagged my finger at him, ‘have been a big help today. Now go and get to work.’ I pushed him lightly towards the farmhouse.
He laughed with bewilderment. ‘Glad to have helped, even though I’ve no clue how.’
He waved his hand over his head and whistled his way to a set of ladders that were propped up against the side of the house.
His words turned over and over in my mind. After locking Marley back in the kitchen, I punched in Grace’s number on my phone. She answered almost immediately.
‘Are you back at the cottage?’
‘Just walked through the door … why? Is something going on? You sound kind of …’
‘Yes,’ I interrupted, ‘there is more than something going on. Can you meet me at The Old Teashop in fifteen minutes?’
‘I’m intrigued … Of course, see you there,’ said Grace, hanging up the phone.
I was still very much in a quandary when I walked back towards the village along the country lane. I was hesitant about telling Grace the truth about my life, but it didn’t sit right with me that I’d lied to her. Although I was feeling anxious about telling her, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. The conversation with Ben had hit home. If I didn’t give Brook Bridge a go and re-open the dance school, how would I ever know if it was meant to be? But on the other hand, what if I wasn’t up to the job? I wasn’t Grandie, or Mum. What if I didn’t live up to their reputation or no one wanted me to teach them to dance? It was a scary prospect.
Brook Bridge village could hold the key to my future happiness, but first I needed to tell Grace the truth. And secondly, I was hoping she was going to help me come up with a plan to convince Mum to come back to England.
Cha
pter 11
Standing in the quaint courtyard, I took in the view, which was still exactly as I remembered it as a little girl. There was a multitude of artists selling their paintings and photographers snapping pictures outside the small cluttered shops filled with leather goods smelling of incense. Giggling children ran over the stone bridge clutching their melting ice-creams while dog walkers happily strolled through the courtyard towards the fields and stream.
The afternoon sun was high in the sky, and the tables outside The Old Teashop were busy. Customers were sat under the yellow-and-white awning, enjoying cake and coffee while chatting to their friends. I knew Grace would be here any second and already I was beginning to feel worried. I’d no idea how she was going to react when I told her I was destitute, and my career wasn’t actually a career. But with Grandie’s offer on the table, I needed to own up.
I pushed open the door and the bell tinkled above my head. The Old Teashop was just the same – all things vintage with its china tea-cups and colourful, triangular bunting draped across every wall. The front counter revealed an array of beautiful cakes in numerous glass-domed stands and immediately my mouth watered when I spotted the lemon drizzle tray bake which had my name written all over it. Mrs Jones was stacking a batch of Eccles cakes next to the chocolate-coated gingerbread men, which were topped with chocolate chips and Smarties and screaming out to the younger customers. She looked exactly the same, her face still as kind as I remembered. Her plump figure gave her a matriarchal aura, complemented by her rosy cheeks and grey hair which was pinned up in a bun.
‘What can I get you, dear?’ Mrs Jones looked up and met my gaze. Her eyes flickered and I knew she’d recognised me but couldn’t quite place where from. I gave her a warm smile. ‘Hello, Mrs Jones, long time no see.’
She screwed up her face and the penny dropped.
‘Christ on a bike!… oh my,’ cried Mrs Jones with her infectious smile that oozed such warmth. Quickly, she hurried to the front of the counter, wiping her hands on her pinny. ‘Oh my,’ she repeated once more, her eyes wide as she grabbed both my hands. ‘It is you, isn’t it?’
A Home at Honeysuckle Farm Page 10
