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

Eliot had shown any signs of being the swindler, the town gossips had labelled him as, and I ended up getting a bit cross. He insisted he was joking, but personally I didn’t think it was anything to joke about and the call had ended coolly, from my end at least and without us arranging a second date.

However, Anthony’s aggravating reminder had put Eliot firmly back at the forefront of my mind, not that he’d ever been all that far from it, and I realised that he was exactly the person I needed to enlist to get Grandad onside about the supper club. If anyone would be able to help, it was Eliot. Hence my trip to the cottage.

‘You haven’t been abandoned,’ I said to Bec. ‘I’ve just been busy establishing a routine and if the offer still stands, I really would appreciate some help soon.’ The ripening was definitely picking up pace now the days were consistently warmer. ‘And as far as the date’s concerned…’

‘Stop,’ she interrupted. ‘Let’s get a drink first and find somewhere comfy. I’ve been looking forward to this!’

We sat with a pitcher of lemonade in the garden and I injected as much enthusiasm into my retelling of the evening as I could. After all, I still wanted Eliot to think that I really had set my feelings for him to one side and started something up elsewhere, with someone who was nothing like him, and hearing it from his sister was bound to help that cause.

Consequently, I told Bec all about the outfit I’d found in Bella’s, the swanky dinner in the far away restaurant, the champagne and the hugely expensive taxi ride, along with what Anthony’s favourite colour was. She’d already guessed red, but given her artistic calling, that was no surprise.

‘But he didn’t kiss you goodnight?’ she asked, wrinkling her nose and sounding unimpressed.

‘No,’ I said. ‘With the taxi waiting, it would have been a bit awkward, but I could tell he wanted to.’

‘Well, I suppose that cranks the anticipation up a bit, doesn’t it?’ she sighed. ‘You’ll be panting to get your hands on him next time, won’t you? And vice versa.’

‘Absolutely,’ I fibbed. ‘And I still don’t know what he does for a living, so we’ll have plenty to talk about in-between all the kissing.’

‘Um,’ Bec wistfully sighed. ‘And there was me thinking you and Eliot…’

‘There was you thinking me and Eliot what?’ I asked, the sound of rushing blood filling my head as my heart pounded and I realised she hadn’t forgotten after all.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I really thought he liked you and I was beginning to think that you liked him… but I suppose you wouldn’t have gone out with Anthony if that was the case, would you? And he is gorgeous, so if he’s more your type…’

‘Oh, he is,’ I cut in. ‘Definitely more my type and I do like Eliot, how could I not, but only as a friend.’

In view of the fact that Anthony was so easy on the eye and that I’d already been on a date with him, she seemed to accept that and I hoped I’d said enough to clear everything up and put it all nicely in its place.

‘With regard to Anthony’s job,’ Bec smiled, getting back on track. ‘I know what he does. Well, I sort of know. He’s something to do with the building trade.’

I found that rather amusing, but it did go some way to explaining his observation about the barn. I was certain there was no merit in what he’d said, but knowing he was in the trade, I would have another look. Just to be on the safe side.

‘Really?’ I said, thinking of his impeccable hands. ‘He doesn’t look like a brickie.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Bec giggled. ‘I daresay he’s in management. More suited to telling the brickies what to do.’

That, I agreed sounded far more like it, then thoughts of Anthony’s hands led me to imagining the touch of Eliot’s.

‘I don’t suppose your brother’s around, is he?’ I casually asked, attempting to suppress the sudden glow. Hopefully Bec would think it was down to talk of Anthony, rather than the conversational switch to her big brother.

‘No. He’s at work. Why?’

‘I wanted to ask a favour.’

‘Does it have to be from him?’

‘Afraid so. It’s to do with Grandad.’

‘Oh well, yes then,’ Bec nodded. ‘It’s definitely Eliot you want. You can leave him a note if you like.’

With Bec acting as intermediary because Eliot was so busy, arrangements were made for us to meet in The Mermaid Friday night. I felt shockingly nervous. There was a lot riding on how the evening went, and I didn’t want to mess it up.

‘He’ll meet you there about seven,’ Bec told me, when I dropped the strawberries at the café. ‘He said he’s sorry he can’t be more specific. It will all depend on how his last visit goes but if you have your phone on when you get to town, he’ll let you know if he’s running late. He’s been rushed off his feet this week, picking up extra shifts left, right and centre.’

It was the first time I was going to see him alone and away from the farm, other than at the library of course, when I’d cried all over him so that didn’t really count, and without either Grandad, Louise or Bec around. I rather hoped he was going to turn up looking exhausted from his working week. That might temper my attraction to him a bit. Either that or it would make me fall even harder because he’d be heroically wearing the hours he’d been putting in looking after the elderly and infirm of Wynbridge! I was doomed.

‘What can I get for you, love?’ asked the pub landlady who introduced herself as Evelyn that Friday evening.

‘A Coke please,’ I said, looking back towards the door.

‘Lemon and ice?’

‘Yes, please.’

I found a table with a good view of the door and didn’t have to wait many minutes