A Taste of Home by Heidi Swain (the beginning after the end read novel TXT) 📕

hand up and down his bare chest before arching his back. ‘I’ll be all right. Besides, the floor isn’t all that comfy.’

‘Then take your sleeping bag and lie on the bed I slept in,’ I suggested. ‘And I’ll listen out for my grandfather.’

‘No,’ he said, more firmly. ‘You’re all right. I’ll be fine when I’ve had a coffee.’

‘A shower then?’ I brightly proposed. ‘That, combined with the caffeine, might make you feel a bit brighter?’

‘Are you insinuating that I’m not my usual sunny self this morning?’ he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

‘Not at all,’ I said, looking away. ‘Well, a bit. But then if I’d spent the night on the floor, I’d probably be feeling a bit jaded too.’

What I wouldn’t be though, was walking about the house half-dressed. Eliot didn’t seem in the slightest bit bothered that the one item of clothing he was wearing left very little to the imagination, but then with a body like that…

‘All right,’ he relented. ‘I’ll go and shower. You keep an ear out for Bill, but whatever you do, do not disturb him, okay?’

What did he think I was going to do, rush in and shake him awake? I might have wanted to be useful, but after what had happened the day before, I would most definitely be avoiding implementing the element of surprise.

In the few minutes it took Eliot to get showered and dressed, and with one eye on my slumbering relative I made a list of all the dishes I could cook with the leftover ingredients from my culinary shopping spree the day before and got some breakfast on the go. Eliot reappeared smelling and looking great and the smile that lit up his face when he saw I had buttered bread, made more coffee, had bacon sizzling on the grill and the biggest eggs frying on the hob, made me feel as smug as Nigella.

‘I thought you might like some breakfast,’ I said, setting out the plates which had been warming on the stove. ‘And I know my grandfather didn’t eat last night, so he might fancy something too.’

‘I’ll have some,’ he said, ‘but Bill’s going to be asleep for a good while yet.’

I looked back at the hob. There was definitely too much food for two.

‘But don’t worry,’ Eliot said, rising to the challenge. ‘I’ll make short work of it.’

Where on earth did he put it all, I wondered, then hastily decided not to ponder.

‘Are you cooking bacon in there?’ My grandfather suddenly called out, making us jump. ‘I could go for a bit of that and an egg or two if there are any.’

‘Sounds like you won’t get the chance,’ I whispered with a smile on my lips.

I turned my attention back to the pan and competently flipped the eggs, feeling thankful for Nonna Rossi’s ‘the bigger the better’ opinion on portion size.

‘He’s demolished the lot,’ Eliot told me, when he came back in carrying a tray bearing two empty plates and mugs a little while later. ‘And he’s had all the tea, too.’

I was pleased to note that he hadn’t left a scrap of anything either.

‘Well, that’s good,’ I said, feeling well satisfied. Nonna’s cookery lessons had not only equipped me with the knowledge to fill plates with delicious food, but also to feel the satisfaction of seeing them empty too. ‘He must be feeling more like himself, if he’s eating and drinking so much.’

‘It’s a definite improvement, that’s for sure,’ Eliot agreed.

‘And has he mentioned anything about yesterday?’ I steeled myself to ask.

‘About you, you mean?’

‘Yes,’

‘No, not a word. I reckon you’ve got away with it.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ I sighed, feeling relieved.

‘You’ll be able to introduce yourself in no time,’ Eliot then said, pushing my nervousness back up the scale again. ‘Don’t look so worried. He’s a really great guy.’

If he was that great, then why had Mum left him all those years ago? I didn’t think there was much point asking Eliot. Louise was more likely to have the answer, although she hadn’t offered it up yesterday. Not that it had been the day for further revelations and explanations. My turning up had been more than enough to contend with. For all of us.

‘Doctor Clarke rang earlier to say she’s coming out again later,’

‘On a Sunday?’ I asked.

Given what he’d said yesterday, I didn’t think my grandfather would be particularly pleased to see her again so soon.

‘She’s on call and said she might as well pop in as she’s bound to be passing. She’ll take another look at Bill and then we can decide how to take things after that.’

‘All right,’ I agreed. I supposed that did sound like small enough steps for me to be able to manage. ‘That’s a good idea.’

‘Maybe you could go and take a walk around the farm for a bit while she’s here?’

That was another good idea.

‘I guess that would save any awkward questions, wouldn’t it?’ I nodded. ‘She’d probably want to know why the stranger from yesterday is still hanging about, wouldn’t she?’

‘Definitely,’ Eliot nodded. ‘Nothing gets past Doctor Clarke.’

‘In that case,’ I said, squirting washing up liquid into the sink, ‘I’ll get this lot sorted and head straight out.’

‘Great,’ said Eliot, making to walk out.

‘Tea-towel is right there, Eliot,’ I said nodding to the hook where it hung.

‘Right,’ he grinned, giving me a nudge. ‘I’ll dry up then, shall I?’

I made sure I was well out of the way by the time Doctor Clarke’s car turned into the yard and I was careful not to walk anywhere near where I guessed the dining room window was too. Having managed to find a spot where my phone picked up an iota of signal, I typed out another message for Marco to relay to Nonna and Alessandro and attached the photo I’d taken the day before. I would have liked to hear their voices, but neither my Italian family nor I had WhatsApp downloaded and unsure of the cost of a call, decided not to risk it.

Before