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

cook you are, but also to find out if you had missed any issues in your planning that might later trip you up, yes?’

‘Yes,’ I squeaked.

‘You didn’t really want everyone to just tell you how clever you were and not look beyond the pretty flowers, delicious food and twinkly lights, did you?’

I mulled that over for a moment.

‘No,’ I then huskily answered. ‘Of course not.’

Anthony lifted his hands and let them drop in his lap.

‘And yet you’re accusing me of messing things up when all I really did was take an objective look at the situation and talk to your guests in the hope that you might take the opportunity to resolve any issues that those exchanges flagged up.’

I chewed my lip and looked out of the window. At the pub, Jim was watering the colourful flower baskets and Evelyn was putting out the chalkboard.

‘I thought I was being helpful,’ Anthony said, sounding hurt and I realised I could hardly blame him.

As far as highlighting any potential problems was concerned, he’d achieved that. I was the one actually at fault because I’d got caught up looking at everything through rose-tinted specs.

‘But what about what you said to Eliot?’ I pointed out, remembering that Anthony’s comments hadn’t been all business. ‘He said you warned him off me.’

‘I think warned him off is a bit strong,’ Anthony tutted. ‘I just let him know I’m looking out for you. I know you said that I’d got him all wrong, but watching the pair of you last night, showed me how he’s wormed his way into your affections and I’m sorry, but I still don’t trust him. I know that will make you angry, but it’s the truth.’

I hadn’t realised he’d been watching us.

‘And I suppose, although it pains me to admit it,’ Anthony carried on when I didn’t comment, ‘I was a bit jealous.’

‘Jealous?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d give anything for you to look at me the way you look at him.’

‘Oh.’

I hadn’t realised I did look at Eliot in a certain way. I hoped no one else had noticed whatever expression I had on my face when our eyes met.

‘But that,’ Anthony added, ‘had nothing to do with any of what I said to everyone else. I didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive, even though you’ve just suggested otherwise.’

Now it was his turn to stare out of the window.

‘Oh Anthony,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry.’

Even though we weren’t on the same page about the heroic carer, I did now feel bad for using him in my failed attempt to make Eliot think that I’d moved on. Not that I was about to reveal that. Now I knew Anthony harboured genuinely romantic feelings for me, coming clean would only make him feel even worse, and me even more guilty.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he shrugged, but his tone implied it did. ‘Your response to my kiss last night was a clear enough indication that you don’t feel the same way about me, and as far as the other stuff’s concerned, it was just my business head talking. I’m so driven, I do come across a bit strong because I don’t know how to switch off. I never should have said anything. I’m the one who’s sorry.’

‘No,’ I said, ‘you don’t have to apologise, I do. I’m pleased you said what you did. You made sure the evening fulfilled its purpose. I learnt loads and I have a much clearer understanding of how I can make it all happen now. I’m grateful to you, I really am.’

Although I still wasn’t grateful about what he’d said to Eliot of course.

‘Well, that’s good then,’ he sighed. ‘Even if you don’t fancy me.’

‘I’m sorry about that too.’ I further apologised.

I reached over to squeeze his hand and as he moved his fingers to grasp mine, the cuff of his shirt slipped back. Before I could take another breath, my mouth had gone dry, my heart had missed a beat and my shoulders were back up around my ears.

‘Where did you get that watch?’ I gasped, completely distracted from what I had planned to say next.

He, however, wasn’t at all perturbed by the sudden subject change. It was like he’d flicked some sort of internal switch.

‘Isn’t it a beauty?’ he commented, twisting his wrist so I could see it properly. ‘I found it yesterday in the jewellers in the courtyard. Second hand obviously, which isn’t something I usually go for, but it isn’t every day that you find one of these.’

‘No,’ I said, trying to lubricate my painfully dry throat by swallowing hard. ‘I don’t imagine it is.’

‘I paid a pretty penny for it, but it was worth it. To be honest, to begin with, I couldn’t believe that something like this would turn up in a town like Wynbridge. It’s vintage, rare and in immaculate condition. It was even boxed. Can you believe it?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I can’t.’

Back at the farm, I was both surprised and frustrated to find Grandad was still in bed. With him asleep in the room, there was no opportunity to satisfy my suspicions and I flitted from one task to another, achieving little and settling to nothing properly.

Eventually, feeling desperate for distraction, I turned on his laptop and set about creating the Fenview Farm Instagram account. I would eventually use it to promote the supper club so establishing a bit of a following before it launched would be a great help.

I put the finishing touches on a sunny image I’d taken of the strawberry field with the hens in the foreground, adding as many hashtags as I could think of, then logged off just as the throaty rumble of Eliot’s bike met my ears.

‘Morning,’ he said as he wandered in, leather clad, dishevelled and looking lovely.

‘Hi.’

‘How are you feeling?’

For the briefest moment, sitting in the Land Rover with Anthony, safe in the knowledge that I’d read him wrong, and in spite of the fact that he had romantic feelings for me and had caught