A Taste of Home Heidi Swain (book recommendations for teens txt) 📖

‘Oh, no you don’t,’ said Bec. ‘You cooked this feast, we’ll tidy up.’

‘I better check on Bill first,’ said Eliot. ‘And I need to get the bike undercover.’

‘Any excuse to get out of the washing up,’ tutted his sister.

‘I really don’t mind helping,’ I said.

‘You stay where you are,’ said Louise. ‘Sit back down, have another glass of wine and enjoy the sunset.’

The Fenland spring sunset really was a sight to behold. The cloud streaked sky turned gold and then orange as the great orb slipped gently towards the horizon and then slowly sank below it. I closed my eyes, listening to the chatter of a robin which was swiftly followed by a blackbird. He sounded keen to announce the farm as his own.

It was all every bit as tranquil as Puglia and for the first time since I’d arrived, I thought about how there might be a possibility of my roots working their way into the soft, dark earth beneath my feet. It was probably down to the wine, but it was a settling sensation nonetheless.

‘I’m not asking you to pay for it. I’m giving it to you for free.’

My eyes snapped open. There was a chill in the air but someone had laid a blanket over me, so I hadn’t felt it. The dishes had all been cleared away, along with my empty wine glass and I could see the drive was empty. Eliot must have put his bike away and Bec and Louise had gone home. I was sorry not to have said goodbye, but I hadn’t heard a thing. I must have been out for the count.

‘Yes, mate. I know, and believe me, I was looking forward to it too, but it can’t be helped.’

I wondered who Eliot was talking to.

‘I’ve asked Bec to forward you the booking email and I’ll let the organiser know you’re taking my spot. You’ll need your insurance documents. Okay, well, have fun and do not even think about stopping by here on the way back to tell me how it went.’

He ended the conversation and I called over to him, momentarily forgetting I was supposed to be keeping quiet.

‘Everything all right?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, wandering over with the phone from the kitchen still in his hand. ‘Just a change of plan for tomorrow.’

‘Oh,’ I yawned. ‘What were you supposed to be doing?’

‘A track day on the bike. It’s been in the diary for months.’

‘I’m sorry you’ve had to cancel,’ I said. ‘You must be really disappointed.’

‘Yeah, well,’ he shrugged. ‘There’ll be other days, but there’s only one Bill.’

I smiled, but didn’t know what to say to that.

‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘Had you got anything planned you need to call off now you’re staying?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I came to England with the sole purpose of doing this. Not that I expected it to work out the way it has so far.’

‘It must have been quite a shock, finding out about this place.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It was. Come to that, it still is and I’d no idea it was going to be just my grandfather here on his own.’

‘And I daresay you’re going to be in for a few more surprises given that you still know so little,’ Eliot pointed out.

‘Thanks for that,’ I said, giving him a rueful smile.

‘Sorry,’ he smiled back. ‘I don’t know what it is about you Fliss, but you do seem to get me tongue-tied in double-quick time. Nothing I’ve said to you today has come out right, has it?’

‘No,’ I sighed, trying not to think of his tongue. ‘Not really.’

‘Come on,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘You go up to bed and I’ll lock up.’

I rested my hand in his and as he pulled me to my feet, an explosion of fireworks coursed through my system and turned my knees to jelly.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, resting his other hand under my elbow to steady me.

‘Too much wine and not enough sleep,’ I bluffed, taking a step away. ‘Night Eliot.’

‘Night, Fliss,’ he huskily replied. ‘Sleep well.’

Chapter 6

I had no idea whether it was the wine, the emotion of the day or Eliot’s warm night-time wishes, but I slept surprisingly well. The unfamiliar mattress and inner turmoil didn’t impact at all, and I was up with the lark and feeling refreshed early the next morning. I was grateful for the early start too because the Fenland sunrise was every bit as spectacular as the sunset.

I quietly made myself a coffee and, wrapped in the blanket from the night before, crept outside to enjoy a calm, slow and steady start to the day. I was feeling wonderfully relaxed after some mindful meditation and ready to face whatever the day threw at me, but when I went back inside my tranquil state immediately took flight.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ gulped Eliot, who was filling the kettle at the sink and wearing nothing but his boxers. ‘Where did you spring from? I thought you were still asleep.’

‘I’ve been outside,’ I said, trying to keep my eyes on his face and stop myself from laughing because he had jumped almost as high as the ceiling. ‘I wanted to see the sunrise. How did you sleep?’

‘Badly,’ he muttered, thumping down the kettle and flicking it on. ‘Bill was awake all night and now he’s out for the count.’

‘Oh,’ I said. I don’t suppose it mattered when my grandfather slept, but it was tough on Eliot. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was even more mussed up after the night spent tossing and turning than it had been when he’d worn his bike helmet. ‘That’s not great then, but do you think he’s getting any better?’

‘Maybe,’ he yawned, rubbing his eyes. ‘Perhaps. I dunno.’

‘Look,’ I gently said, wishing he’d at least sit down so I couldn’t see quite so much of him. ‘You’re exhausted, why don’t you go back to bed for a bit?’

‘No,’ he said, running a