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

thinking back to the night of our champagne fuelled fish and chip supper, ‘like I’ve said before, I am planning to be here long-term.’

For the briefest moment our eyes met, but it was plenty long enough to remind me that living at Fenview Farm for ever and not letting my feelings for Eliot get the better of me was going to be the hardest project of all.

Even though I had drafted in audacious Anthony to help with operation ‘I Don’t Fancy You Anymore’, it was going to be an every day struggle to keep my hands off the man currently sitting next to me. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing…

His gaze flicked to my lips and he jumped up.

‘I’ll get us another drink,’ he said, making for the bar before I’d had a chance to tell him what the favour I wanted to ask of him was.

He was still in the queue when Anthony walked in. I must have conjured him up, but now I wished I hadn’t.

‘Fliss,’ he smiled, rushing over when he spotted me trying to make myself invisible. Clearly ineffectively. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you either,’ I said, my eyes on Eliot’s back.

I know I’d wanted him to see how loved Eliot was by the locals, but I hadn’t really expected him to walk in. I didn’t have him down as The Mermaid type. He would have looked more at home in a nice wine bar or relaxing on a rooftop terrace. Not that there were either in Wynbridge.

‘Let me get you a drink.’

‘No,’ I quickly said. ‘You’re all right, but thanks. I’m with someone and they’re about to get served.’

He looked at the helmet and gloves on the table, then turned and scanned the people standing at the bar. Eliot was deep in conversation with the customer standing next to him.

‘You’re not here with Eliot, by any chance, are you?’ Anthony frowned, turning back to me.

‘Yes,’ I said, feeling guilty, but with no idea why.

His expression quickly changed. ‘Ah right,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Sussing him out a bit and keeping him in plain sight. Great idea.’

‘No…’ I began, thinking what a misinformed idiot he was, but there was no chance to set him straight because Eliot was on his way back.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Anthony whispered, with a theatrical wink.

I could have thumped him.

‘Crikey, it’s rammed in here tonight,’ Eliot said, once he’d weaved his way through everyone not lucky enough to secure a seat. ‘Sorry I took so long.’

‘No worries,’ I told him. ‘I had no idea the place was so popular.’

He shifted a little closer and leant in to make himself heard as the level of chatter escalated.

‘I have to say I absolutely love your idea for the barn,’ he restated, his soft breath caressing my neck and making my spine tingle. ‘The farm is the perfect setting and the old building is ideal. Just the right size and with everything you need to adapt and convert right within reach. It’s going to be amazing.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘it would be amazing if Grandad felt the same way as you.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, pulling back a little to look at my face.

Our heads were very close together.

‘He’s said no,’ I swallowed.

‘Oh.’

‘He won’t even entertain the idea, let alone let me put any of my own money into getting it up and running.’

‘Well,’ he said, leaning in again, ‘knowing him as well as I do, I can understand that he would be reluctant about that, but it’s such a brilliant idea. Has he given you a reason, other than him not wanting you to spend your money, I mean?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘and that’s the most frustrating thing. If he would only explain then I might be able to accept his refusal, but as it is, I just can’t let it go. I can picture it all in my head and I know there’s the demand for something like it around here.’

‘It would be lovely to have somewhere special to go in the evenings that’s not too far afield.’ Eliot pondered, further confirming what others had already said.

‘Precisely.’

‘And it would be even lovelier to see local food showcased by the folk who grow it.’

‘My point exactly.’

‘Having access to food from all over the world at any time of year is wonderful in its way, but personally, I don’t think you can beat seasonal eating and local food. There’s nothing better than a bit of rare breed pork from Skylark Farm, served with their apple sauce and cider or any of the fruit from your farm, Fliss, picked and eaten within the day.’

‘Quite,’ I agreed, swooning a little as I realised that he was as passionate about local food as I was and that he’d grasped exactly what I wanted the supper club to represent.

‘Would you like me to talk to Bill?’ he then offered, tipping me completely over the edge. ‘Do you think he’ll mind that you’ve talked to me about what you have in mind?’

‘That was actually the favour I was going to ask,’ I said, resisting the urge to throw my arms around him. ‘And to be honest, I think he’ll be delighted that I’ve talked to you. He trusts you more than anyone and he truly values your opinion.’

‘He does?’ Eliot asked, fixing me with his dark eyes.

I wondered if my pupils were as dilated as his.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He does.’

‘I’ll talk to him tomorrow then,’ Eliot beamed.

‘Thank you,’ I said, finally looking away.

With plans arranged, we left the pub together and I followed his bike out of town. When we reached the yard, he slowed down, looked over his shoulder and waved and then accelerated away. I tried to push away the pang of disappointment that struck as I watched him become a speck on the horizon and I was denied the opportunity to say a more intimate goodnight, but it refused to budge.

Chapter 20

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