A Home at Honeysuckle Farm

by Christie Barlow

  ‘I can see your point.’ Grace sat back down, her thinking face was apparent.

  She exhaled sharply. ‘OMG, I’ve got it.’ Her eyes were wide and danced with excitement. ‘What about if we rope in Sam?’

  ‘Sam? Why Sam?’

  ‘Think about it, most of Sam’s friends are my friends and what do they do for a living? Dance! Each lady can be whisked off her feet by a handsome, good-looking man, and all in the name of charity.’

  ‘I’m not sure, Grace,’ I said, feeling a little dubious and knowing that Sam wasn’t Dorothy’s favourite man about town.

  ‘You would have time to teach the ladies and the men will take care of themselves. No one would know Sam was even involved, if that’s what you are worried about.’

  ‘It’s not me that’s worried, I’d love to have Sam on board. It would certainly help me out,’ I answered, turning it over in my mind.

  ‘Shall I ask him?’

  I took a moment. ‘No, let me.’

  ‘Okay, your call, but do it today, let’s get this show on the road,’ she said with such passion, humming the Strictly Come Dancing theme tune while dancing her way around the kitchen. I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, while thinking about this morning. I’d really enjoyed teaching Bert today. Maybe this was my calling and co-ordinating Brook Bridge Goes Strictly would help me decide whether I was up to the job of teaching a group of people. Turning my thoughts to Sam, I knew asking him to help out would certainly solve a problem, but would he really be willing to help the community out, especially when he’d been receiving the cold shoulder from most of them?

  ‘Grace … this could be just the thing for Sam.’

  ‘Huh?’ she answered, perplexed.

  ‘If Sam was on board, wouldn’t this be the perfect way to reunite the community, look to the future and hopefully for him to be accepted – especially by Dorothy and Bert, and maybe even Ben?’

  ‘Alice Parker … you may have a point.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll talk to Sam and then share my idea with Dorothy.’

  ‘She’ll be made up; Village Day is saved!’

  For the first time in a long while, I felt I had a purpose, a direction. All I had to do now was convince Sam about my idea.

  Chapter 20

  A couple of hours later I walked anxiously up the path towards Sam’s front door. I’d made the nerve-wracking decision to invite him out for dinner to talk things through. What’s the worst that could happen? Obviously, he could turn down my dinner invitation, but if that was the case I’d decided to play the plucky American stereotype for once in my life and take dinner to him. So, all in all, he’d no choice in the matter.

  After smoothing down my top and taking a deep breath, I rapped on the door then dug my hands into my pockets, while nervously shuffling my feet from side to side.

  I knocked again, but still no answer.

  Damn.

  I’d rehearsed the whole conversation over in my head and never once considered he wouldn’t be home. Staring up at the cottage, I considered taking a glimpse through the downstairs window, but what if Sam was there and was ignoring the knock on the door?

  Plucking up my courage, I cupped my hands around my eyes and quickly took a peep, but the room was empty. However, it was at that moment I heard a noise coming from the back garden and decided to follow the path around the side of the property, my feet crunching on the shingle as I walked.

  Hearing a noise, Sam spun round and met my gaze. He looked startled to see me.

  ‘Sorry, I did knock on the front door but there was no answer.’ I made my apologies quickly.

  My whole body tingled in his presence. He was ridiculously, ludicrously good-looking and looked like he’d just showered. His messy hair was wet, slicked back and his lounge pants looked super sexy clinging to his toned waistline.

  ‘That’s because I’m here, minding my own business, in my own garden.’ His manner was abrupt, and it was obvious to anyone he didn’t want me there, but hitching my mouth into a huge smile, I wasn’t going to let that deter me.

  ‘About last night, we need to talk,’ I offered softly.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Sam dismissed the conversation almost immediately, leaving me standing there feeling squashed and confused. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected or wanted.

  ‘Alice, I meant what I said last night. Associating with me will bring you nothing but trouble.’

  He casually stepped backwards towards the open back door. ‘No, please wait,’ I pleaded.

  He locked eyes with me again.

  ‘Okay, here’s the thing. Last night Ben was out of order, anyone could see you weren’t bothering me.’ I was now thankful for his attention, but he still didn’t answer. His face was solemn, and he carefully eyed me.

  ‘I can imagine it’s very trying, putting up with hostile behaviour …’ I took a breath.

  For a second, I thought he was going to turn and walk away and the rehearsed words disappeared from my mind.

  ‘And …’ I said, stalling for a little more time.

  ‘Look,’ interrupted Sam, ‘I appreciate you coming round, but you are only here for a few weeks, so maybe it’s best you don’t go getting involved in things you know nothing about, or putting yourself in the firing line with the locals because of me.’

  ‘I’m not. I don’t care what any of them think … I only care about what I think … and I do care …’ I now had Sam’s full attention, he hadn’t disappeared inside just yet. ‘Give us a chance?’

  ‘Alice … my family.’

  ‘I don’t care who your family are.’

  ‘You will, when people won’t let go of the past and becoming my friend proves difficult for you.’

  ‘At least give me the chance to try,’ I pleaded, feeling myself trembling a little.

  ‘Like I’ve already said, I don’t want to make things difficult for you while you’re here.’ He tried for a smile but faltered.

  I was relieved that his tone had softened a little.

  ‘You won’t, you aren’t. Funnily enough, for what it’s worth, this American can make her own mind up.’ I cocked my head to one side and gave him a bashful grin. ‘I take people as I find them, so I was thinking …’

  ‘Americans can think as well, can they?’ he interrupted with a wicked glint in his eye.

  Thankfully, the frosty atmosphere was melting a little, so I decided to bite the bullet.

  ‘And they can invite people out for dinner too.’

  ‘Dinner? Are you asking me out for dinner?’

  I nodded, feeling my pulse quicken, waiting for him to answer.

  He narrowed his eyes and was mulling over the invitation.

  ‘Tonight?’ I said with authority, like the pushy American I was trying to be.

  ‘I’ve plans this evening …’

  ‘Oh,’ I wasn’t expecting that he’d have plans, but why wouldn’t he? The world didn’t just revolve around me.

  ‘Okay,’ I continued, the disappointment in my voice sounding loud and clear.

  ‘But …’ He was thinking something over.

  ‘But …?’ I added.

  ‘I’m going to the theatre … Come with me?’

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. ‘It’s a date,’ I beamed, my heart leaping at the invite.

  Sam was now looking at me with an amused expression written all over his face. ‘A date?’ he questioned playfully.

  ‘I’ll be ready,’ I answered, with a huge grin etched on my face.

  ‘Good, glad to hear it.’

  ‘Great, see you later.’ I quickly turned with a spring in my step and disappeared down the path before I embarrassed myself any further or Sam had time to change his mind.

  As soon as I walked through the gates of Honeysuckle Farm, Marley was sniffing amongst the hedgerows and the second he heard the clang of the gates his head turned, and he launched his little legs down the long driveway towards me.

  ‘Hello, boy,’ I said, be
nding down and ruffling the short fur behind his ears before he turned and scampered back towards the farmhouse and waited for me at the bottom of the stone steps.

  As I approached I heard the sound of muffled chatter from around the side of the house and walked round the corner to unexpectedly find Ben standing outside the barn with his phone firmly clamped against his ear. Our eyes met but I immediately broke from his gaze and turned, quickly strolling back towards the front of the farmhouse. At some point I knew I was going to have to speak to him, but I hadn’t anticipated that he would be working at the farm today. The second he saw me I heard him make his apologies on the phone and hang up the call.

  ‘Alice,’ I heard him shout, ‘wait.’

  Spinning round, I saw that Ben was striding up the steps behind me. My heart was thumping, I really didn’t want this conversation now.

  Ben flashed me a beaming white smile. ‘I’m glad I caught you. Can we talk?’ he asked, his manner now sheepish.

  There was an awkward tension hanging in the air between us. ‘I’m here to see Grandie.’ I knew I wasn’t doing a good job of keeping my feelings under control, but I was still mad with him. There was a certain uncharacteristic sharpness to my tone and even though Sam had advised me not to get involved, I couldn’t help my reaction.

  ‘Dinner, let me take you out for dinner … tonight?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m out tonight.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he urged.

  I was about to answer when Ben continued, ‘The Reids – they aren’t a good sort, you know.’

  I raised an eyebrow and shook my head in disbelief. ‘I don’t want to hear this, Ben. I need to go.’ I didn’t want to get into a discussion about it, and I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else spoil my good mood. And with that I turned and walked through the door of the farmhouse without a second glance backwards.

  Pushing open the kitchen door with Marley close to my heels, I saw Grandie sitting in the old, red, checked, battered armchair in the corner of the room, chatting with Dorothy.

  They both looked up. ‘Another visitor!’ Grandie exclaimed joyfully, placing his walking stick on the floor and attempting to push himself up out of the chair.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ I insisted, scooting over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘You stay there.’

  ‘We were just talking about you,’ smiled Dorothy.

  ‘All good, I hope!’ I replied, placing the kettle on to the hot plate of the Aga. ‘Does anyone else want a coffee?’

  ‘Thank you, but we’ve just had one,’ answered Grandie, ‘but see that cupboard up there,’ he waved his stick towards the cupboard at the side of the plate rack, ‘there’s some shortbread in there, even though it won’t be a scratch on Dorothy’s … bring it out.’

  After dishing up the shortbread on to a plate and placing it in the middle of the table, I sat down. ‘So, anything happening I should know about?’ I asked, flicking a glance between them both.

  ‘Dorothy’s here with a dilemma and is picking my brain, but I’m not being much help at all, I’m afraid,’ he sighed, suddenly looking somewhat defeated.

  ‘It’s not your fault at all, just bad timing.’ Dorothy’s shoulders sagged. ‘Maybe I’m just being picky, but I can’t see how Mr Cross playing his ukulele will be the grand finale that we’ve come to love every year, but maybe beggars can’t be choosers at such a late stage. We might have to go with it if we can’t come up with a Plan B.’ Dorothy actually looked horrified at the very thought of Mr Cross playing his ukulele.

  I put on my best encouraging smile. ‘What’s all this about?’ I knew full well the pair of them were discussing Village Day but of course I couldn’t divulge that Bert had shared that little snippet of information whilst escaping from Dorothy’s scrutiny for an hour.

  ‘Village Day – the magician has gone up in a puff of smoke and now, we’ve no closing finale …’ Dorothy now looked visibly upset.

  I sipped on my coffee. ‘What about Connie, has she got any bright ideas?’

  Dorothy regretfully shook her head. ‘I think between us all we’ve exhausted every avenue.’

  I knew I was probably jumping the gun a little – after all, I hadn’t even spoken to Sam about it yet – but seeing their disappointment, I wanted to put a smile back on their faces. So, the words shot out of my mouth: ‘Maybe I could help.’

  All eyes were fixed on me, even Marley seemed to stand to attention and patted my knee with his paw.

  ‘How’s that, dear?’ asked Dorothy.

  ‘How about …’ I began nervously, ‘how about …’ I swallowed and looked at their expectant faces.

  ‘Spit it out,’ encouraged Grandie, ‘we aren’t getting any younger.’ He gave a small chuckle.

  ‘How about Brook Bridge Goes Strictly?’ My idea was now unleashed to the world – well, to the three of us sitting in Grandie’s kitchen, anyway.

  Grandie and Dorothy both looked confused.

  ‘But it would depend on the co-operation of the WI.’

  Dorothy sat upright and folded her arms on the table. ‘Do you mean like the show on the telly?’ Her eyes were wide.

  ‘I mean exactly that,’ I said with enthusiasm, shimmying my jazz hands into the air. ‘I could teach the WI, we could dance the cha cha, quick step, waltz, samba, paso doble – anything, really. And on the side of the stage we could have a panel of judges – me, Grace, Grandie and Connie – and score you all, like they do on the telly.’ I waited with bated breath to gauge their reaction. ‘One of the WI could be crowned the winner of Brook Bridge.’

  Dorothy and Grandie locked eyes. Then I watched as a huge beam spread across their faces.

  ‘Marvellous, marvellous idea!’ he exclaimed. ‘You, Alice … are a genius!’

  The mood in the room had suddenly lifted, the doom and gloom replaced by excitement.

  ‘You’d do that for me, for us, for the village?’ Dorothy was overwhelmed, waiting for me to confirm that she wasn’t hearing things.

  ‘Yes, of course! But the WI will have to put in the hours over the next couple of weeks. It will be hard going, learning the dances from scratch,’ I added, with my professional teaching voice.

  Suddenly Dorothy was back on track, brimming with purpose. She turned and grabbed hold of my hands, ‘You, my girl, are a life-saver … a life-saver,’ she echoed, her eyes glistening with happy tears. ‘We need outfits, dresses, sparkle, glitz and glamour. I’m sure Connie will take over the costume department. We can raid the local charity shops and sew a few sequins on some old dresses.’ She clapped her hands with glee, but then I noticed the same solemn expression fleet across her face, like I’d seen earlier.

  ‘But what about the men? Who are we going to dance with?’

  Grandie looked towards me. ‘My knees aren’t up for whirling around the stage at my age – or those lifts, my back wouldn’t stand for it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Grandie, I don’t expect you to be doing lifts,’ I smiled, and relief fleeted across his face.

  But since I hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Sam yet, and knowing that Dorothy wouldn’t be too keen on the idea at first, I brushed over the question for now.

  ‘Don’t you worry about that, leave it in my capable hands.’ I knew I sounded much more confident than I felt.

  ‘Good, good,’ said Dorothy, ‘this has brightened my day up no end. I must ring the girls.’

  ‘How many of you are there?’

  ‘Six, including myself.’

  That was a perfect number to teach, I thought. We may just be able to pull this off.

  ‘You rally the troops and we’ll arrange a time to bring them over to the dance school. Do you think the ladies will be on board?’ I’d never thought to ask.

  ‘Without a doubt!’

  ‘Brilliant, they will need to learn the routines first and once we’ve got the basic steps, we’ll take it from there,’ I said, hoping Sam would agree to help me out.

  ‘You really
have thought this all through,’ Grandie congratulated me.

  ‘It’ll be fun.’ After teaching Bert, I really was looking forward to putting the ladies through their paces.

  ‘I’m proud of you, Alice, stepping up to the mark,’ Grandie glowed with pride. ‘Now pass me one of those shortbread biscuits, I’ve suddenly got my appetite back.’

  ‘And you, my dear girl, have saved Village Day!’ added Dorothy with a full-on beam.

  ‘Well, maybe from Mr Cross’s ukulele,’ I giggled, helping myself to a piece of shortbread.

  It was a fantastic feeling, knowing how excited they both were about my idea. I just hoped I’d enough time to teach them all to dance, but there was still a slight niggle in the back of mind regarding Sam. How easy was it going to be to persuade him that this was a good idea? And if he agreed, I then had to convince the villagers to give him a chance too.

  Chapter 21

  ‘On a scale of one to ten … how excited are you about this date with Sam?’ teased Grace, straightening my hair then backcombing the fringe and pinning it back to give it some height.

  It was six thirty in the evening, George Ezra was singing his heart out from the iPod and I was sitting at Grace’s dressing table on her insistence that she gave me a helping hand to look drop-dead gorgeous for my theatre date with Sam.

  ‘It’s not a date as such.’

  ‘You said it was a date,’ she insisted.

  ‘It’s a figure of speech,’ I argued, even though I was hoping it was exactly that – a date.

  ‘Despite what some villagers think of the Reids, Sam’s a decent guy,’ said Grace, staring at me through the mirror while wafting the can of hairspray all over my hair.

  ‘Go easy,’ I spluttered.

  Grace gave me the once over and swung the chair back towards the mirror. ‘Ta-dah! What do you think? Glam or what?’

  ‘It looks stunning,’ I answered, pleasantly surprised, staring at my reflection.

  ‘Now, you need to decide what you are going to wear.’

  ‘Maybe a summer dress? Flats and a cardigan?’ I suggested.