Читать книгу Foxglove Farm - Christie Barlow - Страница 7

Perplexed, Isla stood in the window and watched Drew stamp across the yard. Of course, she knew the pair of them could squabble from time to time, just like any other married couple, but recently things seemed different between them. This argument seemed different. Drew seemed more distant, his sleep restless. Isla knew having a new baby in the house had changed the dynamics of their normal routine completely, and she knew Drew wasn’t a huge fan of the baby stage – he preferred when he could chase them up the stairs, give piggybacks and hold a conversation with them. Maybe, he just felt he wasn’t getting enough attention from her? But then, neither was she and surely that was what family life was all about?

‘Who does the cooking, the cleaning, the washing … takes Finn to school etc. etc.?’ she mumbled under her breath, picking up her phone from the table and texting Felicity.

‘Ask Rona to throw me in a Full Scottish. I’ll be over in ten minutes.’

Almost immediately her phone pinged, ‘You got it! Reserved your favourite table too.’

Isla knew she could always rely on Felicity. She was her best friend and Isla would be able to vent her frustration about this morning’s argument without it going any further, even though her partner Fergus was Drew’s right-hand man on the farm.

She was maddened by Drew’s behaviour, even more so after she’d woken up feeling quite chirpy. Baby Angus had only woken once in the night for a feed, leaving her feeling refreshed, even though she longed for the time when he’d sleep straight through. Isla knew she would have to tackle Drew’s mood again later and wasn’t looking forward to that. As soon as she picked up Finn from school, the hours were hectic until bedtime. Every night was the same routine: preparing the tea, bathing Finn and Angus, followed by making the sandwiches for the following day, putting the children to bed … the list was endless.

The more she thought about it, the more Isla became even madder with Drew. Who did he think looked after the day-to-day running of the farmhouse? Did he think the food miraculously appeared on the table in front of him the second he stepped through the door after a hard day’s work on the farm?

‘Get a job … get a job,’ she puffed to herself, reaching for the money pot on the shelf and tugging off the lid. She stared inside, shook it, then turned it upside down in bewilderment, but nothing fell out, it was completely empty.

‘That’s strange,’ she muttered, knowing that’s where Drew kept the cash. At the beginning of the week there had been over a hundred pounds stuffed inside.

Hearing Angus cry from his cot, she hurried upstairs and found the baby lying on his back kicking his legs. She reached inside and nestled him into her shoulder. ‘You are all that matters,’ Isla said softly. ‘You and Finn … us … our family. We need to get to the bottom of what’s up with your daddy and put it right.’ Isla kissed his head lightly.

‘Come on, let’s go and see Auntie Flick at the teashop.’

Five minutes later, with Angus bundled up tightly in his blue woven blanket and strapped inside his pram, Isla began to stroll towards the teashop with her argument with Drew still very much on her mind. She spotted him and Fergus thudding their mallets into the new wooden fence panels they were erecting in the bottom field. ‘Let’s hope daddy comes home in a better mood,’ she said hopefully, smiling down at Angus.

As Isla walked along, hearing the woodpeckers drumming against the trunks of the trees and the birds twittering away in the line of blush-pink-blossomed trees that adorned the pavement of Love Heart Lane, she hovered for a second, her nose pointing skyward, eyes closed as she inhaled the earthy spring smell, a perfume of rain, grass and soil. Isla immediately began to feel calmer. Spring had definitely begun to arrive in the small village of Heartcross.

There wasn’t another soul in sight on Love Heart Lane, which Isla was thankful for, as after the argument with Drew she didn’t feel much like exchanging pleasantries with anyone.

As she approached Bonnie’s teashop, she saw Felicity and her mum Rona beavering away behind the counter. Rona swiped Felicity with a tea towel as she pinched a cup cake and shovelled it into her mouth. They both burst into laughter.

Watching them, Isla felt a tiny pang of jealousy. They were both having so much fun and that’s what she missed … fun. The more she thought about Drew, the more she couldn’t pinpoint the last time that they’d spent any quality time together or the last time they’d laughed, and she meant proper belly laughing when the tears rolled down your cheeks and your stomach ached that much, you could barely breathe or move … which made her sad. She missed those times.

Isla manoeuvred the pram through the teashop door, the tinkle of the bell above alerting Felicity and Rona to her arrival.

‘Rescue me, Isla,’ Rona beamed. ‘I’ve been up since the crack of dawn … baking cakes … savouries,’ she swung her hand towards the delicious array of food displayed in the glass cabinets. ‘Not to mention,’ she continued, ‘the homemade carrot-and-leek soup simmering in the pot, rounds of cheese-and-pickle, beef-and-mustard, and tuna-and-cucumber sandwiches stacked away in the fridge, ready for lunch time. Jacket potatoes prepped, and this one … this one,’ she wagged her finger at Felicity in jest, ‘decides she’s already eating the profits before we begin our day!’

Felicity allowed her lips to twitch into a smile and patted her stomach. ‘When life hands you lemon cake … and it was just looking at me! And never mind the profits,’ she added. ‘It’s my waistline I’m more worried about. Since re-opening this place, it’s expanding by the day.’

‘So, stop eating the cake!’ said Rona, laughing.

‘Never mind you pair, I need rescuing myself this morning.’ As a wave of emotion washed over Isla, her voice faltered and she suddenly felt like she was going to burst into tears.

Felicity and Rona exchanged a glance before Felicity quickly pulled out a chair and ushered her friend towards it.

‘I’ll get the tea … always good in a crisis,’ offered Rona, swiping her hands on her apron, leaving Felicity to take care of her friend.

‘I need gin … in fact a double … no, a triple wouldn’t go a miss,’ said Isla, wiping an escaping frustrated tear away with the back of her hand.

Felicity parked the pram next to the table and gently ruffled Angus’s soft hair before sitting down next to Isla.

Isla’s eyes trailed after Rona as she disappeared back behind the counter, before she turned back towards Felicity. ‘You’ve got a good life, haven’t you?’

‘I can’t complain.’

Isla took a breath. ‘Just now, I saw you both laughing through the window, having fun.’

‘I have to admit,’ said Felicity, ‘I do like this time in the morning, the calm before the storm.’

Felicity took a swift look around the teashop that had once been her gran’s life. Bonnie Stewart had converted the front room of her cottage into a tearoom for passing ramblers and had enjoyed every minute of it.

Since she’d passed away Felicity had taken over the running of the family business with her mum, Rona, and felt proud keeping her grandmother’s business and name very much alive in the heart of the village. Being back in Heartcross was where Felicity belonged, and she couldn’t ever imagine leaving it again.

‘But what’s this got to do with why you’re upset?’

Isla blinked away more tears.

‘Come on, Isla, it can’t be that bad?’

‘Drew and I had an argument,’ shared Isla, feeling a tiny bit disloyal to him even mentioning it to Flick. Pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot and cupping her hands around the mug, she added, ‘And I wouldn’t mind, but I’d woken up in a good mood, until he decided to ruin my day.’

‘What were you arguing about?’

‘I’m not entirely sure. Out of the blue he suggested … no, actually he didn’t suggest, he insisted I was sponging off him, wasn’t pulling my weight and that … wait for it … I need to get a job … Can you believe it?’ Isla rolled her eyes.

Before Finn was born Isla had worked at a nursery over in the town of Glensheil and Isla could remember quite clearly Drew suggesting that she should become a stay-at-home mum. They’d discussed it at great length. The children were only young once and neither of them wanted to put them in full-time child care or after-school clubs.

‘He actually said that you were sponging off him?’

‘Well, not in so many words,’ admitted Isla. ‘But basically, that I wasn’t financially pulling my weight …’ Isla whispered, feeling the anger beginning to rise again. ‘And how the hell am I going to fit a job in, as well as taking Finn to school, washing, ironing, shopping etc. etc., and wouldn’t I just be working to pay child-care costs? It all seems ridiculous to me.’

‘But it might be good for you to have a little independence, something just for you,’ Rona said, overhearing a small snippet of the conversation. ‘Maybe a little extra pocket money,’ added Rona, sliding a Full Scottish breakfast towards Isla.

‘Mum!’

‘Sorry … sorry, I was only saying,’ she said, flinging her hands up into the air and quickly scurrying back into the kitchen.

‘Oh, and then, he’s decided I can’t see my friends.’

‘What?!’

‘He said I spend too much time in the teashop and in the pub seeing my friends and wasting his hard-earned cash. What does he expect me to do? Sit in the farmhouse all day, staring at four walls and talking to no-one?’

‘And you have no idea what’s prompted this outburst?’

Isla shook her head, ‘None at all.’

‘And what do you feel about going back to work?’

Isla stabbed the sausage on her plate and poised the fork near her mouth. ‘It’s too soon … look at him.’

All eyes turned towards Angus, who was making sucking noises with his mouth while fast asleep. ‘I’m not handing him over to anyone, and we agreed I didn’t need to work when I had the children. Financially it wasn’t worth it, which is what makes this all so confusing.’

Felicity shrugged, knowing Isla’s frame of mind was justified. ‘And let’s face it, in this small village there isn’t much opportunity for work unless you travel.’

Isla looked horrified at the thought. ‘Has Fergus said anything to you about Drew’s moods?’

‘Only that he didn’t seem himself at the moment … moody … a bit short-tempered, but he just put it down to interrupted sleep, with a new baby in the house.’

‘Believe me, his sleep is far from interrupted.’

Isla knew that they usually managed to communicate without conversations escalating into rows, but recently she did feel like she was treading on eggshells around her husband.

‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, we all have off days and with a new baby in the house, however adorable, it must put a strain on things,’ said Felicity reassuringly, as she reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Now go and give your face a quick wipe and I’ll get you a fresh pot of tea.’

‘Thanks Flick, for listening to me.’

‘Don’t be daft, what are friends for.’

As Isla disappeared into the bathroom, Felicity stood behind her mum, who seemed deep in thought.

‘Penny for them,’ said Felicity tentatively, watching her mum closely.

‘I was just thinking about this place, how many people have passed through that door over the years, how many cups of tea have been served and how many cakes have been devoured since Mum opened up all those years ago.’ She smiled, ‘I’m so glad you came home, and we are here … together.’

‘Me too,’ replied Felicity, grabbing the tea towel and drying the plates on the draining board. ‘It must have been thousands of cups of tea,’ she said and smiled at her mum.

‘And you best turn that sign around, otherwise we’ll have no customers today.’ Rona nodded towards the door. ‘Is Isla okay?’

‘She will be,’ answered Felicity, walking towards the door.

As soon as she flicked the sign over to ‘Open’ and returned to the kitchen, the old-fashioned bell chimed to signal a customer. Rona was expecting an influx of customers today, as Julia who ran the village’s B&B had informed her she was already full to the brim this week with a rambling club all the way from Staffordshire. As soon as the weather became warmer the teashop was always busy with hikers grabbing a packed lunch before setting off on their trek over the Scottish Highlands.

‘I could murder a cuppa and a slice of toast.’

Immediately on hearing the voice, Rona screwed up her eyes and stared, ‘No way! It can’t be …’

‘Yes, way!’ There in the doorway stood an elderly woman, wearing a shabby green coat that hung from her tiny frame, thick black tights that were laddered at the knee and a pair of chunky Doc Martens shoes. She looked around seventy, short and plump with her grey wispy hair wound up in a bun, and she had a huge beam on her face.

Immediately Rona stood up and flung her arms open wide and hugged the woman. ‘Martha Gray! Where the hell have you been? How lovely to see you! It must be at least …’

‘Too long to remember,’ interrupted Martha.

Felicity was scrutinising her mum’s face for clues to who this woman was, as Rona turned towards Felicity.

‘Martha … it’s Martha … Isla’s grandmother, your Grandmother Bonnie’s best friend,’ said Rona. But by the time Rona had jogged Felicity’s memory, Martha was already kissing her on both cheeks.

‘Oh my, so it is!’ Felicity hadn’t seen Martha since she’d moved away to London eight years ago. She’d lost a lot of weight and seemed shorter than Felicity recalled. She remembered her working in the teashop alongside her grandmother years ago.

‘Well … where is she?’ said Martha, straining her neck and casting a glance over the teashop. For a second Felicity thought she meant Isla until she added, ‘My old partner in crime, surely she hasn’t taken the day off … I’ve never known Bonnie Stewart to take a day off before.’

Rona felt puzzled and looked towards Felicity as the penny dropped. Rona swallowed a lump in her throat and took a deep breath. ‘She’s gone, Martha … she’s gone.’

‘What, to the shops? … Over to Glensheil for the day?’

Rona shook her head, ‘No, Martha … there’s no easy way to say this … Mum passed away.’

As the words registered, Martha slumped into a chair and unbuttoned her coat. ‘I can’t take this in … when did this happen?’ She gulped back a sob, dabbing her face with a tissue from her pocket.

‘Christmas time,’ replied Rona, taking her coat and hanging it on the stand in the corner of the teashop.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I know I’ve not been around for a while, but she was always my best friend, you know. I had visions of us running riot over in Glensheil on my return. Surely the nightlife is still the same over the bridge … gin nights and late-night parties are all the rage nowadays, knit and natter is so last year and way too tame these days.’

‘I’m sure if she was still here, she wouldn’t have hesitated to join you.’ Rona couldn’t help but smile. Martha had always had a zest for life and lived every day like it was her last. It didn’t matter how long Martha was away from Heartcross, she always slotted straight back in, like she’d never been away.

Many years ago, Bonnie and Martha had been inseparable, thick as thieves, and for a short time Martha had worked in the old teashop alongside Bonnie when the rambling trade was soaring. The teashop was the last stop on Love Heart Lane before the stile that led the ramblers over the heather-wreathed glens, beautiful waterfalls and majestic mountains. The climb was one of spectacular scenery.

Martha had last been seen in the village last spring. It had been a fresh, crisp morning when a gang of ramblers had fallen into the teashop before a five-hour hike. And that’s when Martha had met Walt, in the teashop over eggs benedict. Later that evening he’d changed his walking trousers and boots to an outfit of brown tweed jacket, checked shirt and navy corduroys … and that had been that. After their very first date she’d stepped down as chair for the Women’s Institute, had removed herself from the parish council and had done a moonlight flit with Walter, leaving Isla to report her as a missing person until a postcard had landed on her doormat all the way from a Caribbean cruise.

‘Taken too soon,’ Martha was muttering over and over again.

‘Let me get you a coffee?’

‘I need something stronger, I’m in shock.’

‘Nothing changes,’ Rona mouthed to Felicity.

‘Sherry,’ said Martha, ‘or whisky?’

‘Go and pour a whisky from the decanter on the sideboard,’ Rona whispered.

Felicity nodded and soon returned with the amber-looking liquid in a crystal glass.

‘Rest in peace, dear Bonnie,’ Martha said, swirling the whisky around in the glass before necking it in one gulp.

Felicity winced at the very thought of the burn in the back of the throat.

‘Does Isla know you are coming?’ asked Felicity, taking a swift glance towards the bathroom door, thinking that Isla hadn’t mentioned her grandmother’s return.

‘I thought I’d surprise her,’ answered Martha.

They were both in no doubt that Isla would be in complete surprise, especially after Martha had upped and left the village to live life to the max.

Martha had been Isla’s only real family left in Heartcross. Years ago, Isla’s parents had emigrated to New Zealand, but Isla hadn’t wanted to leave the village or Drew and had moved into the farmhouse with his family.

‘You do know you have two great-grandchildren now, don’t you?’

‘What … two … When did that happen?’

Rona nodded her head towards the sleeping baby in the pram. ‘When you were travelling around the world …’ said Rona, raising her eyebrows. ‘Or doing whatever you’ve been doing all this time.’

‘Two boys,’ chipped in Felicity. ‘Finn has a brother, Angus.’

Martha peered inside the pram, ‘And this is him?’ she said, overwhelmed.

‘It sure is.’

‘Well I never,’ she exclaimed, reaching for his tiny hand.

As Isla stepped back into the teashop, she stopped dead in her tracks. Immediately Isla recognised the shabby coat, the Doc Martens boots. ‘Gran, is that you?’

Martha spun round and flung her arms open to a rather flabbergasted Isla, whose jaw had dropped somewhere below her knees.

‘It most definitely is!’

‘Granny … what the …’ She stopped to catch her breath. ‘What are you doing here? And where’s Walter, is he with you?’ she asked, quickly scanning the teashop.

‘Always asking questions!’ Martha kissed her granddaughter on both cheeks. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’ve come to stay. I knew you’d be so happy to see me.’

‘Stay? How long for?’

‘You know what, dear granddaughter, I think this time I’m back for good.’

Martha enveloped Isla in the tightest hug ever, and as Isla struggled to breathe she locked eyes with Felicity. Over her gran’s shoulder she mouthed wearily, ‘Back for good? Forget the tea, I’m in need of that gin.’