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

‘I rather liked your apple crate idea.’

I rather liked it too because by the time I’d finished in the house, Grandad had fetched one and, having checked the strength of it by standing on it myself, he then easily stepped up and into his beloved Land Rover. I put the crate in the back with the fruit, so he could get out again, and we were off.

‘I knew that would work,’ he said, with a satisfied look and I can’t deny I felt rather chuffed.

I parked in the space closest to Miller, Moffat and Matthews, the only solicitors in Wynbridge, and arranged to meet Grandad in the same spot a couple of hours later. He would have finished at the bank by then too. I had offered to attend that appointment with him, but he said he was keeping me up his sleeve for future appointments. Whatever that meant.

‘If I’m finished before you,’ he told me, ‘I’ll go and have a coffee in the pub, so don’t worry about rushing.’

‘All right,’ I said, looking over at The Mermaid with its many floral baskets and tubs. ‘I haven’t been in there yet, so I might be late on purpose just so I have to come and find you.’

Grandad laughed and I crossed the road to the Cherry Tree, carefully carrying the treasured trays of fruit. Jemma spotted me through the window and quickly opened the door.

‘Well,’ she said, her eyes lighting up, ‘this is a surprise.’

‘I know you weren’t expecting any yet,’ I said, following her inside and handing over the trays, ‘but this lot were keen to ripen and I felt sure you’d be able to rustle something up.’

It was a monumental moment and when I explained to her just how significant it was for me on a personal level, she looked quite moved. It was all I could do to stop myself from welling up too, but I managed it. Just.

‘In that case,’ she said, putting the trays down and giving me a hug, ‘I’ll definitely make the most of them.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Do you know,’ she mused, ‘I’m going to keep it simple to kick the season off. I’m going to advertise that we’ve got fresh local strawberries, naming the farm of course, and I’m going to serve them with meringue pieces and vanilla cream. Give it an hour of chalking that on the board and I’ll be inundated.’

I didn’t doubt it. My mouth was watering and I’d already eaten my fill that morning as I was picking.

‘Do you want me to pay you for them now?’ she asked.

‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘We don’t want anything for these as you didn’t ask for them. Consider this lot a sort of try before you buy.’

She looked at the trays filled with the perfect, plump fruit and shook her head.

‘No way,’ she said. ‘I’ll do you a deal. Are you in town for a bit?’

‘A little while, yes.’

‘In that case, come back later and I’ll give you something sweet for the weekend in lieu of cash.’

‘All right,’ I agreed. ‘Thank you.’

‘No,’ she said with emphasis. ‘Thank you.’

I took a couple more snaps on my phone, this time with Jemma posing instead of Grandad, and was just about to leave when a thought occurred.

‘You don’t happen to know anywhere in Wynbridge where I might find a dress I could wear to go out in the evenings, do you?’

‘What’s the occasion?’ she keenly asked.

‘Nothing specific,’ I fibbed, because I didn’t have time to go into details.

However, I was surprised and a little disappointed that Bec hadn’t shared news of my imminent dinner date. If she hadn’t mentioned it to Jemma, she probably hadn’t talked about it at home either. I would definitely have to make sure Grandad was on the case when Eliot came to set up his laptop.

‘But I haven’t got anything smart here and you never know,’ I further said to Jemma.

‘It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I’d give Bella’s Boutique a try,’ she suggested. ‘She has all sorts of lovely stuff.’

Armed with detailed directions, I left Jemma preparing her first Fenview Farm fruit delivery and went in search of Bella’s. It was tucked away in a little courtyard, along with a bookshop, music shop, jewellers and a tiny antique store. Had Jemma not told me exactly where to look, I never would have found it. I wondered if the shops ever did any business and didn’t really hold out much hope for finding what I wanted.

If only Eliot had talked Grandad into getting the farm web connected sooner, I could have ordered online for next day delivery. I glanced around the courtyard again. Perhaps I would have been better off going straight to the library and asking if I could log on to a computer again. I could quickly check my emails and peruse the clothing sites there.

‘Good morning,’ said a woman, stepping out of the boutique just as I was about to turn away.

She was in her fifties and smartly dressed in a layered linen outfit with cropped grey hair and colourful statement jewellery.

‘I’ll just finish putting these out,’ she said, arranging some pretty planted containers and a tiny metal table and two chairs, ‘and I’ll be right with you.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, stepping around her and inside because it would have been more awkward to walk away.

The shop was far larger than I expected and packed to the gunnels. As well as outfits arranged along the rails in rainbow colour formation, there were myriad accessories, shoes and scarves. It was very lovely, but I still didn’t think there would be anything for me.

‘So,’ said the woman, as she stepped back in and closed the door. ‘Welcome to Bella’s Boutique. I’m Bella and this is Princess.’

Princess was a pure West Highland White Terrier, with a pair of bright eyes and a cute button nose. She looked like a well-groomed teddy bear and had impeccable manners.

‘Pleased to meet you, Bella