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

‘Either you are or you aren’t,’ he laughed. ‘Unless of course you’re squatting. Is that what you’re doing?’

It did feel a bit like that.

‘In a roundabout sort of way,’ I sighed, as I looked along the road and spotted the Banana-mobile heading in our direction, ‘I suppose I am.’

He noticed my gaze had shifted and checked his mirror.

‘Oh crikey,’ he grinned. ‘You can’t miss that thing, can you?’

‘Absolutely not,’ I smiled, this time the reaction felt far more genuine. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it glowed in the dark. So, do you want to come in and get this oil?’

‘It’ll have to be another day, I’m afraid.’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘Absolutely. It’ll be a good excuse to bump into you again.’

‘Do you need one?’ I laughed.

I realised with a jolt that I was flirting. So out of practice, I thought I’d lost the ability, and I had no idea why I was doing it. Perhaps it was some sort of reflex to Eliot’s meanness.

‘I guess not,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll see you around.’

He put the car into gear and smoothly pulled away.

‘Yes,’ I called after him. ‘I’ll see you around.’ It was only then that I realised that I still hadn’t found out who he was.

Chapter 7

It didn’t make any difference to me, but Monday was a bank holiday, and that did have an impact on Eliot.

‘I have to go out,’ he told me, when I eventually went down to the kitchen, dressed and stiff legged, to seek out some coffee.

I’d avoided spending time with him the afternoon and evening before. He’d apologised profusely for his suspicious snappiness more than once and I had accepted it, but I didn’t much like the change in atmosphere the misunderstanding had left behind, so I absented myself from it and stayed upstairs on the excuse of being tired. Which wasn’t an excuse really because the previous day’s events had been exhausting.

‘Oh,’ I said, my nerves instantly jangling at the thought of being left home alone, in case my grandfather needed anything while he was gone. ‘Right.’

‘I’m not going to be long.’ Eliot elaborated, picking up on my apprehension. ‘So, don’t worry. I just need to collect some meds for Bill that I hadn’t realised he was running low on, and as it’s a bank holiday the pharmacy in town is shut so I’ve got to go to the one in the big Waitrose in Peterborough.’

‘All right,’ I nodded, trying to look more in control than I felt, as he pulled on his leather suit. ‘Here’s hoping you won’t be needed before you get back.’

‘I promise I’ll be as quick as I can.’

I didn’t much want him to ride fast but a speedy turnaround would be appreciated.

‘You’re going to be hot wearing that,’ I said, with a nod to the suit.

For a British bank holiday, the weather felt unseasonably warm and that was inside the house.

‘That’s as maybe,’ he said, wriggling his shoulders to get the suit to slide more comfortably into place before offering me a cheeky smile, ‘but I don’t ride without protection.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Honestly Eliot,’ I said primly, but with a smile. ‘Well, that’s good to know.’

He laughed back and even though I was nervous about him leaving, I was relieved that the awkward feeling between us had been banished. I busied myself making coffee and toast while he pulled on the cumbersome boots which filled the space by the back door.

‘I won’t be long,’ he said again, reaching for his helmet and gloves. ‘Bill’s asleep and fingers crossed he’ll stay that way. I’ll push the bike down the road a bit before I start it, and the window in his room is shut, so he shouldn’t hear it.’

He was going to great lengths to ensure everything should run like clockwork and I appreciated that.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘And don’t worry about how long it takes, just ride safe. The roads are bound to be extra busy today and not all car drivers have their minds on bikes when they’re in a rush, do they?’

‘Unfortunately not,’ he agreed. ‘I’ve had my share of near misses.’

I didn’t like the thought of him having to take evasive action as he sped along the poker-straight A47. It seemed to me to be just the sort of road that could easily catch you out if you didn’t have your wits about you.

‘See you later then,’ he smiled, ducking out the door.

Even though he pushed the heavy bike a good way along the road before he started it, it was still loud and barely out of earshot before I heard my grandfather moving about. I crossed my fingers and sent up a quick prayer in the hope that I wasn’t in for a repeat of what happened when Vicky left on Saturday.

‘I know you’re still here!’ he called, making my feet leave the floor before I’d even uttered an amen. ‘So, you might as well come in.’

I stood stock still, barely daring to breathe and wishing I’d prayed faster. That said, maybe it was Eliot that he was referring to.

‘Come on, young woman! Show yourself.’

Or maybe not. Eliot was as far from womanly as it was possible to get.

‘Quick now,’ came the voice again. ‘Or am I going to have to come and find you myself?’

I dithered for a second and then, knowing I couldn’t risk him getting out of bed unaided, popped my head into the room.

‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘The enigma reveals itself at last.’

‘Good morning,’ I blurted out, my voice ridiculously squeaky and high. ‘I’m here to help Eliot, Mr Brown. I’m a trainee. He’s gone to get you some tablets, but he’ll be back in a minute. Why don’t you just go to sleep?’

I don’t think I’d ever spoken so fast.

‘I know exactly when he’ll be back,’ he calmly told me. ‘I’m capable of working out how long it takes him to get to Peterborough and back on that death trap he