Читать книгу Foxglove Farm - Christie Barlow - Страница 8

Finally releasing her granddaughter from her tight grip, Martha swooped straight into the pram and planted a noisy, sloppy kiss on to Angus’s head. His warm body wriggled in her arms as she inhaled his baby smell.

‘Isn’t he just the best? Angus … what a good Scottish name. Me and you are going to be the best of friends.’

Isla felt perplexed. Angus was now three months old and there had been no interest from Martha for all that time, and suddenly they were going to be the best of friends? And never mind Finn, who was six years old and hadn’t seen his great-gran in the last twelve months! And now she was acting like the doting granny. Of course, Isla had thought about trying to contact her when Angus was born, but she hadn’t a clue where to begin. Martha wasn’t one for staying in one place for a long time. From experience Isla knew her granny was of a flighty nature and goodness knows where she was or what was ever going on in her life. But one thing she knew for sure was that eventually she’d turn up again.

‘I can’t take my eyes off him,’ Martha was still gazing adoringly at Angus.

‘Gran … are you serious … are you back for good?’ Isla had to ask, as the realisation of her words had well and truly sunken in after the initial shock.

Martha jerked her head towards Rona, ‘You’d think my granddaughter wasn’t happy to see me.’

‘It’s not that,’ Isla added quickly, but the look on her face said it all. ‘A bit more notice wouldn’t go amiss. Have you booked into the B&B? Julia never mentioned it.’

Martha threw back her head and laughed. ‘The B&B? Why would I want to stay there when I can stay with my beautiful granddaughter?’

The words hit Isla like a high-speed train. She wasn’t sure if she could muster up enough energy to wait on another house guest, and what was Drew going to say? Not that he had anything against Martha, but his mood was a little unpredictable lately.

‘I’ll have to make up the spare room.’

‘I can help with that,’ said Martha, gently rocking Angus in her arms before safely placing him back inside the pram.

‘And where’s Walter? Will he be joining you?’ asked Isla, suddenly panicking that there were going to be two unexpected house guests.

Martha shook her head. ‘Walter … He’s long gone … I’ve seen the last of him. One minute he was contentedly reading the Daily Mail like he did every morning with his cup of tea, and next he was on a train to Brighton, with that floozy Jennifer from the corner shop, and that was that.’

‘What do you mean, that was that?’

‘They ran off together … and I took myself off on holiday with Fred with the cash he’d forgotten to take from the kitchen drawer.’

‘Fred … who’s Fred?’

‘No-one important … After Fred, I hooked up with Greg for a while, but he was old before his time and then …’

‘I think I get the picture,’ cut in Isla in amazement.

‘It doesn’t matter how old you get, Isla … love isn’t guaranteed to run smoothly and that’s why I’m here …’

After this morning Isla knew that only too well. ‘To mend your broken heart?’

‘Far from it … I’m back because I miss my family … it’s been too long … and I can’t keep gallivanting all over the world … it’s time I settled back down, and where else is home?’

Isla’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard. It was tough enough looking after two small children, never mind a whirlwind of a granny who had more energy than all of them put together.

‘I knew you’d be happy and welcome me back with open arms. Just think of me as a babysitter on tap, isn’t that every new mum’s dream? … You won’t even know I’m here.’

Isla had her doubts and swung a glance towards Felicity, who gave her a forced sympathetic smile.

‘I’ve brought a few bits and pieces with me … they are in the car.’

Everyone took a swift glance towards the Union Jack-roofed mini parked outside. It was bursting at the seams with Martha’s belongings and it looked like her whole life was packed into the small car.

‘Gran, that looks more than a few bits and pieces.’ Isla felt herself physically slump. She’d already had quite a morning of it, and after the row with Drew she felt this was yet more pressure. Life was hard enough with two young children, a husband and a farm to run, and now there was another person thrown into the mix.

‘And I can’t wait to see Drew and Finn,’ said Martha, quickly swerving the conversation.

‘They will be pleased to see you, too,’ said Isla, stumbling over her words while taking a gurgling Angus back out of the pram. She gave him a cuddle while she mixed the milk powder with water in his baby bottle and fastened his bib around his neck.

‘He is just adorable,’ Martha gave her granddaughter such a huge smile and Isla felt a little guilty for not sounding more welcoming, but things were tough at the moment and the argument with Drew was still fresh in her mind.

‘Would you like one of these,’ asked Martha, rustling in her pocket, whipping out a Werther’s Original and waving it in front of Angus.

‘Gran! He can’t eat one of those … what are you thinking?’

Martha chuckled, ‘Relax! I was joking. As if I’d offer a tiny baby such a thing.’

Isla exhaled with relief.

‘I think strong coffee is needed all round,’ suggested Felicity. ‘And you’ve not finished your breakfast,’ she added, looking at Isla.

In the last few minutes Isla had completely lost her appetite. This wasn’t the start to her day she’d anticipated, but as there was no such thing as a time machine, she would have to get through the best she could.

‘You need to keep up your strength,’ Martha’s bony fingers wrapped around Isla’s arm, ‘there’s no meat on those bones, and what’s with the hair?’

Isla’s hair was scraped back into a simple, easy-to-manage ponytail and she hadn’t applied any make-up for weeks. Isla knew that since Angus was born she’d let herself go a little but she didn’t need anyone reminding her of it, especially in public. But what was the point of having a full face of make-up and immaculate hair? Who was she trying to impress? As Isla thought about what her grandmother had just said, a slight niggle loomed inside her. Might this be the real cause of Drew’s anger? Maybe he didn’t find her attractive anymore. But immediately she knew she was being ridiculous; Drew had seen her at her worst and it wasn’t as though he was dolled up to the nines every day in his dung-stained overalls.

‘Any more compliments you fancy dishing out, Gran?’

Martha ignored her sarcastic tone.

‘It’s a good job I arrived back when I did.’

Isla wasn’t one hundred percent convinced.