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

decoration and to top it all off, your collection, would be more than enough. I thought we could change your things to match the seasons. There’s certainly enough of it to do that. The collection could be a real draw and a fantastic USP to give the enterprise a unique edge.’

I watched as Grandad put the last bit of quiche back on the plate.

‘There’s parking for a dozen cars if we reorganised the yard a bit,’ I carried on. ‘And I think a monthly or twice monthly event would be more than enough to keep it exclusive and create demand. We could charge for venue hire and decoration along with a share of the ticket price.’

Grandad opened his mouth to say something.

‘Oh,’ I said, clapping my hands together, ‘and I thought we could have some space,’ I added, pointing to the back wall, ‘to highlight a local artist. Like Bec for example and we could have all your papers and things properly framed for display.’ I finally stopped to draw breath and looked around. ‘I think that’s it. So, what do you think?’

It took me a moment to get my breath back and my rapid heart rate steadied. I hoped I’d done the idea justice. I’d ended up getting a bit gushy and carried away, just as I’d known I would, but that was only because I was so excited. Fingers crossed my enthusiasm for the project was highly contagious and Grandad had caught a dose too.

‘Well,’ he eventually said, looking around again. ‘You’ve clearly given it a lot of thought.’

‘I have,’ I cut in, ‘and I know there’s definitely some demand but I’m going to look further into exactly how much… sorry.’

‘And in theory,’ he carried on.

I felt my shoulders drop.

‘In theory, it sounds amazing, but to do it properly would cost a fortune, Fliss.’

‘Only a relatively small one,’ I insisted. ‘And we could easily get going without the kitchen and loos. We could get a few quotes in for the work that needs doing and do loads more planning before making a bigger financial investment.’

‘But we haven’t got the funds to make a bigger financial investment, Fliss or even a small one come to that.’

‘But I have,’ I said. ‘I have more than enough saved to get us going and,’ I quickly added to gloss over the suggestion that I would be putting in all of my own money, ‘I could do all the prep myself. I can do rustic and simple standing on my head. I could start everything off and then…’

‘But I wouldn’t want you to risk putting your own money in,’ Grandad said, focusing on the one thing I’d tried to rush over. ‘And as you know, I haven’t got a spare bean.’

He sounded upset rather than excited and that was the last thing I wanted.

‘Please don’t say no,’ I pleaded, crossing my fingers. ‘And don’t worry about the money. We’ve got to speculate to accumulate.’

I was pretty certain that if I went to the bank with a bona fide business plan we’d be approved for a loan, but I didn’t suggest that. Not given the Brown attitude to borrowing. And besides, I really did have enough to cover it sitting in my savings account.

‘I’m sorry, my love,’ Grandad said, shaking his head. ‘It’s a grand idea, it really is, but it’s not just about the money.’

‘What then?’ I shot back. ‘What else is it about?’

‘It’s just out of the question.’

That wasn’t a proper answer.

‘Why?’ I demanded, frustrated that he wouldn’t explain. ‘Why is it out of the question?’

He refused to tell me and I inwardly cursed that I’d got carried away and suggested it before I’d done further research. I should have at least got Jake onside before I said anything. I should have got him and Amber fired up and then we could have presented the proposal together.

‘If it is the money that you’re worried about, but you’re pretending it isn’t…’

‘It’s not that,’ Grandad snappily said.

I walked over and reached for his hand.

‘What then?’ I asked again. ‘I thought you’d love this. I thought you wanted to move the farm forward and this idea will do that, in a really exciting way.’

Grandad shook his head.

‘It’s got to be better than Jemma’s idea of selling the barn for conversion,’ I joked.

My ears picked up a rumble on the road which heralded the approach of a certain Ducati. I let go of Grandad’s hand and, resigned, sat back on the bales. Discussion time was over. Not that I felt we’d had a discussion, not a proper one anyway. I would have needed to know why Grandad was objecting to the idea in order to have properly thrashed it all out.

‘What’s all this then?’ Eliot asked as he wandered in a few seconds later, his bike helmet tucked under his arm.

‘Nothing important,’ I shrugged, feeling decidedly lacklustre.

Originally, I hadn’t wanted anyone else to see it all, not even Eliot, but it didn’t matter now. So much for the plan to restore my pep. Not even the sight of Eliot looking lovely in full leathers could breathe life into my sagging spirits.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Right. Well, it all looks great.’

I shot Grandad a loaded look, but he purposefully wasn’t looking at me.

‘See?’ I wanted to say to him. ‘It will work.’ But I didn’t.

‘I think I’ll go back up to the house,’ he huskily said, standing up and handing me his plate. ‘Do you want to come with me, Eliot?’

‘Can do,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘I only stopped because I spotted the barn was open and wanted to make sure everything was all right, but I’ve got a few minutes before I need to get to Walter’s place. Are you coming, Fliss?’

‘No,’ I tightly said. ‘I need to tidy this lot away.’

‘Want a hand?’

‘No thanks.’

I knew I sounded sulky and I didn’t mean to take my disappointment at Grandad’s reluctance to climb aboard the good ship supper club out on him, but I couldn’t seem to