A Home at Honeysuckle Farm

by Christie Barlow

  ‘I could,’ I paused, the same thought crossing my mind.

  Reaching for my iPad, there was a message visible on the screen. ‘It’s an update from Mum, details of her flight and that she’s looking forward to seeing me.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘Hopefully when she finds out I’ve told a weeny white lie, that won’t change.’

  ‘My guess is, you’ll be in for a rough few days but I’m sure once they come face to face, it would be silly not to forgive and forget,’ said Grace, clearly keen to smooth the way.

  I put on a brave smile. ‘I hope you’re right,’ I said, forcing a brightness into my voice I didn’t feel.

  After typing a reply back, I began to scroll through my homepage on Facebook, and Grace carried on talking but for a second I didn’t hear a word.

  ‘Earth to Alice … earth to Alice. What’s so interesting on there?’ Her voice was gently enquiring.

  Aware of the tiny knots forming in my stomach, I didn’t know how to respond. My eyes pinged open and when I looked back at her, my heart was thundering in my chest, and I could barely breathe.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked slowly, placing the rehearsal schedule on the table. ‘You’ve got a funny look about you.’

  My stomach clenched, ‘It’s Facebook, the “People you know” suggestion.’

  ‘And?’

  I cast my eyes back towards the screen, then turned it towards her.

  Grace shuffled up next to me, taking the iPad from my hand. ‘William Hall,’ she read out loud. ‘You daft thing,’ she said, laughing, ‘that will be a freak coincidence, just one of those things,’ trying to make light of the situation.

  ‘That’s what I thought, but look, we have one mutual friend,’ I emphasised, pointing at the screen. ‘Rose Parker,’ I said simply, ‘my mother.’

  ‘Go on then, tap on the profile,’ said Grace with urgency.

  For a second, I hovered over his name before tapping on his profile picture. ‘William Hall lives in Perth, Australia.’

  Grace and I stared at the face looking back at us.

  ‘Wow! This is amazing,’ Grace gave a whistle, and flicked a glance between me and the screen. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think that’s him. Right age, lives in Oz and appears to be friends with my mum, and there’s no mistaking …’

  ‘The eyes and the nose,’ Grace interrupted, ‘it’s uncanny, that’s you.’

  I was speechless. Adrenalin shot down my spine and my stomach was now performing double somersaults. ‘I don’t know what to think.’ I thought today was just another day, but it turned out it was the day I found out what my father looked like for the very first time.

  ‘Do you think she has been in touch with him all this time?’ I asked Grace, feeling a bit dazed. ‘Do you think he knows anything about me?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, Alice,’ Grace replied softly.

  My pulse was racing as I stared at his profile, then I took a deep breath and began clicking on his photo albums.

  My eyes welled up. ‘Look,’ I said, turning the screen back towards Grace. ‘There’s his family, a wife and two beautiful girls.’

  I could feel the emotion rising inside, a mixture of fear, happiness and, of course, the unknown.

  I rubbed my eyes.

  ‘You’re tearful … here,’ said Grace, passing me a tissue.

  ‘What do I do now?’

  I had a thousand questions swimming around in my mind and it was difficult to make sense of it all. I’d no idea how I was going to get through the day, knowing I’d potentially stumbled across my father, but there was nothing I could do until Mum arrived.

  ‘Alice, you have sisters,’ Grace said softly.

  This caused my heart to squeeze a little and I managed a glimmer of a smile. Keep calm, I told myself, crying softly into Grace’s arms.

  Chapter 31

  ‘Wake up, wake up.’ I felt myself being shaken lightly.

  I tried to create a gap between my upper and lower eyelids in a vain attempt to loosen the grip of the mascara holding them together. My head throbbed, and then I remembered. Last night, I’d drunk myself silly with Grace after discovering my mum was in touch with William Hall, a man whom we suspected was my father, a man who probably didn’t even know I existed.

  Finally, I prised my eyes open. ‘What time is it?’ I groaned, ‘and where’s the fire? It feels like I’ve only just gone to bed.’

  ‘It’s eight-thirty,’ Grace stated, throwing me a pitying look. ‘Hangover, by any chance?’ She smiled kindly, placing a mug of tea by the side of my bed. ‘Here, drink this, two sugars in there.’

  ‘Eight-thirty, why the heck are you waking me up at this time?’ I grumbled, pulling the duvet back over my head.

  ‘You told me to,’ she laughed. ‘You have thirty minutes to get up, shower, dress and attempt breakfast.’

  ‘No breakfast,’ the very thought turned my stomach.

  Grace chuckled as she left the room. ‘Get up, Elsie and the quick step will be waiting for you.’

  Elsie was unswervingly sweet, and at the age of sixty-five a bundle of fun. She was a small voluptuous woman with rosy cheeks who worked part time for Dorothy at The Old Teashop. Yesterday, her enthusiasm to learn her steps had been faultless, but a dancer she was not. By the end of the session her Latin ballroom satin sandals with a chunky heel had trodden on my own feet more times than I cared to remember. However, she looked the part in her racy red-sequinned dress. Elsie had proudly announced it had been purchased from last year’s village-hall jumble sale and had been a bargain at three quid, which I couldn’t argue with. But with its plunging neckline, it was a revealing little number and what you might class as risqué. I didn’t think it was designed with a sixty-five-year-old woman in mind but Elsie was delighted with it and that’s all that mattered.

  This morning we were trying again to learn the quick step, an early-morning start before she began her shift at the teashop. I’d advised her to wear trainers; hopefully she’d taken my advice, as I wasn’t sure my poor feet could withstand another bashing.

  Slowly climbing out of bed, I risked a cautious look in the mirror and really wished I hadn’t.

  I felt dreadful, I looked dreadful. I’d fallen asleep in my clothes, my hair was messy, my eyes were swollen and I wasn’t going to win any beauty contests any time soon. As the shower water cascaded over my face my thoughts switched back to last night. Grace and I must have drunk at least two bottles of wine, and thankfully Grace had taken the iPad off me before I had a chance to drunkenly message Mum or William Hall.

  Ten minutes later, I’d climbed inside some clean clothes, tied my hair back and ambled downstairs into the kitchen where Grace was tucking into buttery scrambled eggs on toast.

  ‘There’s plenty left, if you’ve got time.’

  I shook my head, not able to face any food. ‘Why did I drink so much?’ I groaned.

  ‘It always seems like a good idea at the time,’ she mused.

  After a quick drink of juice, I grabbed my heels and welcomed the outside breeze, heading towards the dance school.

  ‘Good morning,’ chirped Elsie, sounding a lot brighter than I felt. She was knocking back a large espresso. ‘I’ve been practising all night.’ She gave me a twirl on the step as I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  ‘Dedication, Elsie, that’s what you’ve got,’ I smiled at her and was thankful that after the brisk walk I was beginning to feel human again.

  Elsie followed me into the foyer, hung up her coat and whipped out a mobile phone from her bag. ‘It’s my grandson’s,’ she said proudly, ‘and I’ve borrowed it. He’s shown me how to load apps and I’ve been stalking that Bruno Tonioli on Bluebird.’

  ‘Twitter,’ I chuckled.

  ‘I told my Cecil, he needs to start this dancing lark. It would tone up that belly and bottom of his no end,’ she sniggered dryly, rolling her eyes at me.

  ‘He doesn’t know what he’s missing. C’mon, let’s see how you’ve got on
.’ Before I had time to press play on the iPad, Elsie was already in position in the middle of the dance floor.

  ‘Left-foot start,’ I instructed, and Elsie mirrored my move.

  ‘Back … side close … side … forward … side close and side.’

  Elsie had been practising hard, her face radiated happiness as she danced the quick step in time, around the room.

  ‘Oh my,’ she breathed, when the music stopped, ‘that felt amazing, I feel like a million dollars. You, young lady, should be proud of yourself.’

  ‘Me? What have I done?’

  ‘Brought a smile to all our faces.’

  ‘You are more than welcome, Elsie. I’m just glad I could be of some help. Shall we do it again, but this time I’ll lead as the male,’ I suggested.

  For the next few minutes we glided around the room. Elsie had come on in leaps and bounds, she was a different woman compared to yesterday.

  ‘Nearly there,’ I announced, side-stepping on my heels as the music began fading out, and that’s when I became aware of two people standing in the doorway.

  With one arm linked through Connie’s and the other leaning on his walking stick, Grandie bellowed, ‘Bravo, Bravo,’ smiling at us both, his eyes proud and tearful.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, switching off the music and hurrying over to greet them.

  ‘Ted Parker, how are you?’ Elsie was already smothering his cheeks in kisses. ‘Your granddaughter is simply wonderful, spending so much time with us all to whip us into shape. A credit to you.’

  ‘You looked wonderful, Elsie, simply dazzling.’ Grandie’s kind words caused Elsie to blush.

  ‘And we hear you are going to be a judge at Village Day … I hope you’re going to be the kind one.’

  ‘Always, Elsie! I’m looking forward to it.’

  After a quick conversation, Elsie gathered up her belongings and left for her shift at the teashop, leaving me in a complete spin that Grandie was out of hospital.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked again, flicking a glance between him and Connie.

  ‘Fit for purpose again,’ he laughed, unlinking his arm from Connie’s. ‘They let me out early for good behaviour and Grace told us you’d be here. So, we thought we’d look in on you on our way home.’

  ‘But the doctor says he needs to take it easy,’ Connie reminded him in a firm tone. ‘Tell him, Alice, he needs to take it easy.’

  Grandie didn’t let me answer. ‘Look at this place,’ he waved his stick in the air, causing him to slightly wobble. ‘You’ve done wonders, I’ve not set foot inside this place since … since …’

  ‘Now don’t go upsetting yourself, Ted,’ Connie soothed, patting his arm.

  ‘This school meant the world to my Florrie. Just then, when you were dancing, I could picture her, leading the class at the front of the room, just like you, Alice.’

  I was overwhelmed by his compliment. His admiration was strong and being compared to Grandma made me feel worthy and joyful.

  ‘You are a natural, so patient, bringing out the best in people. Look at me, silly old fool,’ he said, dabbing his eyes with a hanky. ‘I’m getting all emotional,’ he continued.

  ‘It’s understandable,’ I cut in. Seeing Grandie upset caused me to swallow down a lump in my throat. A couple of seconds ago I was lapping up his praise but in a split second my mouth was bone dry and I was beginning to feel fretful, as I thought about the lie I’d told. Grandie had been so kind to me, and had offered me a chance to turn my life around. And how had I repaid him? Instantly, my mood was dampened. This was not what I’d planned. I’d had it all mapped out in my head: time to prepare both him and my mum, to ease the reunion slowly.

  But now he was out of hospital, the timing couldn’t be any worse.

  What the hell was I going to do now when Mum arrived?’

  One thing I knew for sure was that the next twenty-four hours were crucial in saving my own relationship with Grandie, before my mum had even arrived.

  Chapter 32

  Ten minutes later Connie had driven Grandie back to Honeysuckle Farm and I began taking down all the old leaflets and exam timetables from the old cork pin-board in the entrance hall of the dance school. My stomach growled, hungry now after skipping breakfast.

  Sam caught my eye through the front window of the dance school. He was standing on the other side of the road next to a recovery vehicle, chatting to a man with messy brown hair wearing a red checked shirt who was wiping his hands on an oily rag. Two brightly coloured leads trailed from Sam’s car to the van, and the car’s engine was revving. Sam must have sensed someone was watching him and he looked over. His smile lifted and widened, then he waved at me.

  Once the man had disconnected the leads and packed up his van, he slapped Sam on his back, climbed into his vehicle and drove off. Sam hovered on the pavement for a split second before locking up his car and crossing over the road, heading straight for the dance school.

  ‘All fixed?’ I asked as the door swung open.

  He exhaled with relief, ‘Just a flat battery, and now it’s fully recharged, thankfully.’

  ‘We all need our batteries recharging at some time.’ I sighed.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Hangover, tired and worried sick, in a nutshell. I bet you’re glad you asked now.’ I attempted a smile.

  Sam pulled a baffled face. ‘Sounds to me like you need cheering up.’

  ‘I need food. I skipped breakfast and now the munchies have kicked in.’

  ‘Then let me treat you to brunch, I know just the place,’ he grinned.

  After I’d locked up the dance school Sam drove the car towards the edge of town and parked it down a side street. The red neon sign above the door read ‘Harry’s Café’ and visible in the window were a couple of plastic tables covered in wipeable gingham table cloths, accompanied by the usual brown and red sauce bottles.

  ‘A greasy spoon – you can’t beat a full English fry-up with a hangover,’ he assured me with a twinkle in his eye. I followed Sam into the café and he pulled out a chair. ‘The best seat in the house, the window seat.’ He handed me a paper napkin which I placed on my lap.

  ‘Such a gentleman.’

  Sam ordered at the spotless aluminium counter that ran the full length of one wall, and exchanged jovial banter with the waitress behind the counter before returning to the table with a pot of tea to share.

  ‘Do you come here often?’ I asked playfully.

  ‘Funnily enough, I do, usually on the way to the train station. It sets me up for the day. Now, what’s up with you?’

  ‘Nothing … everything.’

  ‘Typical woman, can’t make her mind up.’

  I laughed.

  ‘That’s better, she smiles – and a wonderful smile you have, too.’

  My heart stuttered as I stared at him. He had the ability to make me feel good even when I didn’t want to.

  ‘I’ve got a few things on my mind,’ I admitted, knowing that my life was going to come crashing down around my ears very soon. Try as I might, I couldn’t push that worried, anxious feeling from my mind. ‘Grandie is out of hospital and Mum is due to arrive.’ But I didn’t mention accidently coming across my father on Facebook.

  ‘And have you taken on more than you can manage with Brook Bridge Goes Strictly?’ He raised a worried eyebrow, pouring the tea.

  I was thankful for the distraction. Choreographing the dance routines and bringing a smile to the WI ladies’ faces had given me something good for the community to focus on. I hadn’t known how enjoyable teaching could be until I’d been given this chance to do it.

  ‘There’s a lot to do with the staging and the costumes but it all seems to be coming together.’

  ‘Good, the lads are coming over one night next week.’

  ‘Excellent!’

  Sam nipped to the bathroom, just before the waitress placed two full English breakfasts and a plate of granary toast on the table in front of me, w
hich my stomach was extremely grateful for.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow lurking outside the café window, then met the stare of Ben, his cool eyes studying me intently. He pushed open the shop door and was now hovering at the side of the table, his face like thunder.

  I smiled.

  ‘For a minute there, I thought you were having breakfast with Sam Reid.’

  There went my smile. That wasn’t the greeting I was quite expecting. ‘I am,’ I replied coolly, wondering where this conversation was going.

  ‘What are you doing with the likes of him?’

  My mouth dropped open, ‘Like we’ve just established, having breakfast.’

  ‘You never returned my call.’

  So that’s what this is about, I thought. He felt dejected that I hadn’t texted or rung him back.

  ‘I’ve been busy,’ I said, which wasn’t strictly a lie. ‘I’m working with Dorothy and the girls on the grand finale of Village Day. Brook Bridge Goes Strictly.’

  He nodded his acknowledgement, which suggested he thought my answer was feasible.

  ‘How about dinner tonight or a drink?’ he pressed, his mouth doing a funny twitching thing while he waited for me to answer.

  ‘I really haven’t got the time, with the rehearsals and everything … but thank you,’ I added politely.

  ‘But you’ve time for breakfast?’

  I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable in Ben’s presence now. Why was he continuing to be like this? And where was Sam? I was willing him to hurry back.

  ‘I have. I’ve just finished a dance session with Elsie and I’m taking a quick break.’ Why did I feel the need to explain myself? The anger was beginning to furiously bubble inside me.

  ‘His sort aren’t good.’

  ‘Ben, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever your opinion is of Sam, it’s not mine.’

  The fury in his eyes flashed before me. To me it looked like Ben was jealous of Sam, resenting the fact that I was sharing breakfast with him. Once upon a time, Ben had been my friend, but how things had changed in thirteen years. He’d changed. I didn’t recognise the kind, caring lad I once knew.