A Taste of Home by Heidi Swain (the beginning after the end read novel TXT) 📕
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- Author: Heidi Swain
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‘Your grandmother and I could appreciate we were a bit off the beaten track here,’ Grandad continued, ‘so we always offered to run her into town if she wanted to get a Saturday job, but Wynbridge wasn’t good enough for her either she said. She had her sights set on bigger places with more thrilling opportunities.’
She always had.
‘I suppose that’s why I can’t imagine her here,’ I quietly said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ever since I arrived,’ I explained, ‘I’ve been trying to picture her here. First, I tried to imagine her at the market in Wynbridge and then sitting here at the table, but I haven’t been able to conjure up anything. I just can’t see her here at all.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Grandad. There was no malice in his tone, more resignation. ‘She was never the right fit for this place and she went to great lengths to make sure everyone knew it.’
I wondered if those words had been flung about in an argument. It was ironic that Mum had chosen them when she had written about me being a better fit for the farm than she had been. Or was that more than a coincidence?
‘And what about me?’ I asked. ‘Do I fit?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Grandad, ‘you fit Fenview Farm like a Savile Row suit, my love.’
Chapter 10
Having explained my fruit farming experience and listened to Grandad describe me as the perfect fit for Fenview Farm, I felt lighter and brighter than I had in ages and I was now entirely convinced that following Mum’s instructions and turning up in Wynbridge had been the right thing to do. My life was set to change, and even though I still mourned her loss, I was grateful that she had gifted me this new opportunity.
I couldn’t wait to make a start on all the work that needed doing and when the rain finally stopped, I was raring to go. However, a quick look through the storage sheds put paid to my plans and I inwardly cursed that I hadn’t prioritised a stocktake as a wet weather essential.
‘I can’t find anything to repair the cages with,’ I told Grandad. ‘And the henhouse roof needs re-covering, but there’s nothing for that either.’
Grandad looked up from the local newspaper he was reading, a frown etched across his forehead.
‘I hadn’t realised things had run so low,’ he said, looking concerned. ‘I was sure I had an end of a roll of roofing felt kicking about here somewhere.’
‘There is a bit,’ I conceded, ‘but only enough to patch it. Ideally the whole lot needs to come off and be redone, otherwise you’re just throwing good money after bad.’
Grandad’s frown cleared and he smiled.
‘You like to do things properly, don’t you, Fliss?’
‘Of course,’ I seriously said. ‘If you don’t do a job properly in the first place, you just end up doing it twice.’
Our conversation was interrupted by a strange honking on the drive which sent the cat, who had snuck in after me, scrabbling back outside.
‘What on earth’s that?’ I asked.
‘That’ll be Bec,’ Grandad grinned. ‘Well, that car of hers anyway. It has the oddest horn.’
‘That car has the oddest everything,’ I giggled, peering out as she pulled on to the drive.
It was a bit early in the day for a social call, but as it turned out it wasn’t one.
‘I’m just off to work,’ Bec told me after I’d greeted her, ‘and wondered if you needed anything picking up in town.’
‘We’re running low on milk and bread,’ I said, thinking of the depleted larder and fridge, as well as all the other things I now needed for the farm repairs. ‘And quite a lot of other stuff actually,’ I added, biting my lip.
‘Do you want to make a list?’ she asked, checking her watch. ‘And I’ll go and buy it all on my break and drop it off on my way home.’
‘You are a love,’ I told her. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d take me with you instead, is there? I can get a taxi back easily enough. If Grandad doesn’t mind being left on his own for a bit, that is,’ I hastily added.
‘Grandad would love to be left on his own for a bit,’ he said. ‘No offence, but it’s been a while since I had the place to myself and I promise I won’t go doing anything I shouldn’t.’
With that settled, I swapped the work boots I had borrowed from him for my own strappy sandals, grabbed my bag and jobs list and jumped in the passenger seat of the Banana-mobile. There was no time to get changed, so my messy bun, checked shirt and denim cut-offs would have to do. The outfit was a bit Daisy Duke, but the shorts weren’t that short so I thought I’d get away with it.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ I called to Grandad as Bec swung the car back round to face the road.
‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, waving us off.
I had to admit, he did look rather happy at the prospect of some time alone. Privacy had no doubt been hard to come by since he’d been in hospital and now, with the added shock of what had happened to Mum to come to terms with, I didn’t think a little solitude would do him any harm at all. I had tried to keep out of the way a bit, but it wasn’t the same as being completely alone. I let out a long breath and
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