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

We made a dash for it into the house. I was soaked in seconds and Eliot looked like a drowned rat. I tried to peel my T-shirt away from my body but it was sodden and melded to me like a second skin.

‘Never mind me,’ Eliot demanded, pulling off his helmet, his hair sticking up on end. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I had to go into town. Why? What’s happened?’

Grandad wasn’t in the kitchen, scolding us for leaving damp trails and soggy footprints, and I felt a growing sense of unease.

‘Nothing I hope,’ Eliot gruffly said. ‘But I’ve been ringing the house for ages and got no reply and your phone’s not turned on. Bec and Mum are both at work so I had to come out on the bike. Bill!’ he shouted, making me jump.

I quickly checked both floors, but Grandad wasn’t anywhere in the house and we knew he wasn’t in the barn because the door was bolted from the outside.

‘He was worried about the storm,’ I gulped, wringing my hands. ‘Before I left, he said there was a storm coming, but the weather was so bright and sunny I didn’t believe him. You don’t think he’s out in it, do you? I didn’t ask him to do anything while I was gone,’ I hastily added.

‘Well, if he’s not in here and he’s not in the barn, then he must be,’ Eliot agitatedly said. ‘I’ll go and look.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ I said, not bothering with a coat or umbrella as we rushed back out into the deluge.

The rain was falling so hard it made it difficult to see, but when we were close enough, I spotted the hen run was empty. It could have been because the hens had shown some common sense for once and sought refuge in their coop, but the reaction in my gut suggested otherwise.

‘Grandad!’ I shouted.

The word came out as more of a sob and I felt increasingly panicked as the storm raged and roared overhead.

‘Bill!’ Eliot bawled next to me.

The noise of the rain coupled with the thunder made it impossible to hear and even if Grandad had shouted back, we wouldn’t have heard him.

‘There!’ pointed Eliot, what felt like for ever, but what was probably less than a minute, later. ‘Over there. Look!’

We rushed over to the fruit cage, both of us skidding because the baked soil, unable to absorb the volume of water, had turned into a lethal slip and slide.

‘Oh Grandad,’ I said, rushing to his side and falling on my knees next to him.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, as I threw my arms around him. ‘I’m fine.’

He was holding one of the hens under his arm and I didn’t need to look too closely to work out which one.

‘Take her, would you?’ he said, thrusting her into my hands. ‘And let’s get inside before we all freeze to death or drown.’

I rushed to deposit the shocked hen into the coop where the other two were snuggled down and bone dry, while Eliot gave Grandad a quick examination and then the three of us walked carefully back to the house.

‘I slipped,’ Grandad said, between rumbles of thunder, ‘trying to catch that stupid bird which had somehow got out under the run, and when I got up, my hip felt a bit sore so I thought I’d best wait for the cavalry rather than risk the slippery path back and going down again.’

‘You did the right thing,’ Eliot sensibly said. ‘If you had fallen you could have done untold damage and set your recovery back months.’

I wondered if a mild bout of hypothermia was preferable as tears sprang to my eyes.

‘I shouldn’t have gone into town,’ I sobbed, my voice catching. ‘I should have been the one rounding up the hens and checking the gates. You said there was a storm coming.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Grandad, trying to reassure me. ‘I didn’t go down with a bang, so there’s no harm done.’

‘We’ll let the professionals be the judge of that,’ Eliot firmly said. ‘But first we need to get you dry and warm.’

It had almost stopped raining and the thunder had headed north by the time Doctor Clarke arrived and Eliot and I found ourselves alone in the kitchen. He had helped Grandad out of his wet clothes while I had found dry ones and towels, filled hot water bottles and made tea.

We had barely talked throughout the unfolding drama and it was only as my heart rate started to settle that I remembered the watch in my bag which I’d abandoned on the chair. The thought of it caused another palpitation. There were so many things I wanted to say and sort out, but for now they would have to wait.

‘Will they be all right, do you think?’ I asked, nodding to Eliot’s mud streaked leathers which hung limply over the door.

‘They’ll need a bit of TLC,’ he said. ‘But I think they’ll be okay.’

‘Let’s hope the doctor says the same about Grandad.’ I choked, my vision misting again. ‘I really wasn’t gone long you know, and it was an important trip. I wouldn’t have gone at all if I’d known something like this was going to happen.’

‘Of course, you wouldn’t,’ Eliot kindly said, which made me feel all the worse.

Given that I had previously snapped at him when he suggested that Grandad had taken on too much, he could have used what had happened to prove his point, but that wasn’t in Eliot’s nature. He was kindness personified, not that Anthony would have let me believe it.

‘No damage done,’ announced Doctor Clarke as she strode back into the kitchen and made both me and Eliot wilt with relief. ‘He’s had a bit of a knock, but he’ll be okay.’

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

‘If I had even the slightest concern, I’d be whipping him straight back into hospital, whether he objected or not,’ she told me. We all knew