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

do you? The rumour about the woman’s will, I mean?’

He hesitated before answering. ‘Well, no.’

‘You’re a rubbish liar,’ I accusingly, said.

‘Had I not known about what happened when we were at school,’ he shrugged, ‘I most likely wouldn’t have given it a second thought.’

I was sure that brief anti-social interlude would have been part of what Louise had talked about when she told me about her husband, Eliot and Bec’s father, dying. It was little surprise that Eliot had had a moment of angry rebellion at some point when he was growing up, was it? And it in no way meant that he’d moved on to bigger things now he was an adult, as Anthony had implied.

‘It’s all completely wrong,’ I firmly said.

‘I sincerely hope so,’ Anthony nodded.

‘Can you stop here, please?’ I asked the taxi driver.

We were a little way away from the farm, but it was later than I had been expecting to get back and I guessed Grandad would be in bed. I didn’t want the sound of a car on the drive disturbing him.

Anthony and I both climbed out and I thanked him for the meal. He didn’t make any attempt to kiss me and I was relieved about that.

‘I’m going to call you,’ he said, leaving me at the top of the drive. ‘Very soon and we’re going to go out again, and I’m going to make amends for the balls up I’ve made of tonight.’

‘Right,’ I said, refusing to say anything which might salve his conscience. ‘Goodnight, Anthony.’

As I reached the back door, aided by the torch on my phone I heard the taxi pull away and realised that I had no way of getting in. I had posted the house key through the letterbox before I left. I took a step back, checking to see if there were any lights on, but the house was in darkness and I was just about to try and ring Anthony and ask him to come back, when the floodlight in the yard came on and the back door opened.

‘Eliot,’ I gasped.

‘Come in quick,’ he said, ‘and I’ll turn the light off again.’

I hadn’t noticed the bike anywhere, so he was the last person I expected to see. I had assumed he would have been long gone and I would have had the chance to shrug what Anthony had said off before we talked again. At least now he got to see me all dressed up for my date though. That said, all of a sudden and in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter anywhere near as much as it had before.

‘Why are you still here?’ I whispered. ‘Is everything all right with Grandad? I thought you’d be gone by now.’

‘He’s in bed,’ Eliot quietly said. ‘He was shattered so I said I’d wait for you, as you hadn’t got a key.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’m going to get some more cut so this won’t happen again.’

‘Are you likely to stay out this late again then?’ he asked, his brow furrowed.

‘I might,’ I said, biting my lip.

‘Well,’ he said, taking me in. ‘I’m not surprised your date was a success, you look gorgeous. Completely different to how you usually look.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Not that you don’t usually look good,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. ‘But whoever had the pleasure of your company tonight, was very lucky indeed.’

He sounded a bit put out and I should have been pleased that he’d got the message that I’d moved on. My masterplan was bearing fruit, but the taste it left in my mouth was surprisingly bitter.

‘Thank you,’ I said again, turning away to take a glass out of the cupboard.

I just wanted the evening to be over now. My feet were throbbing and my body wanted to be free of the confines of the dress and back in its familiar, and much looser, loungewear.

‘Oh, and before I forget,’ Eliot then said, ‘Miriam from the library asked me to give you these.’

I really didn’t want to be reminded of the library.

‘What are they?’

‘A couple of leaflets about opening times and clubs and things, I think.’

He held them out and I felt my face flush as I took them.

‘You left in such a rush that she didn’t get the chance to give them to you herself,’ he unnecessarily pointed out.

‘I didn’t want to keep Grandad waiting,’ I told him, putting the leaflets on the table and draining the glass I’d filled to avoid having to look at him, ‘and I still had things to do.’

I rinsed the glass out and put it on the drainer.

‘I’ll get off then,’ Eliot said.

‘All right,’ I said, moving to open the door. ‘Thanks for waiting for me to get back. I didn’t much fancy having to sleep in the barn with the cat.’

Now I knew he was leaving, it was easier to talk.

‘I’ll see you later,’ he smiled, looking a little sad.

For a moment, I thought he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.

‘Night,’ I brightly called after him. ‘See you soon.’

I quickly locked the door and leaned back against it, gratefully slipping off my shoes and wishing that I really did have as tight a control of my feelings for him as I had just convinced him I had.

Chapter 18

I had quite a hangover the next morning, but it wasn’t the ordinary, average, run of the mill effort. This descended, not only as a result of the two bottles of champagne Anthony and I had emptied, but also because of the emotional wringer that I’d been squeezed through before, during and after drinking them.

A morning spent baking in a hot kitchen was tiring enough, but then there had been the photograph albums, the gift of the beautiful earrings from Grandad, the ulterior motive surrounding my first date in ages, the indigestible rumour about Eliot and the awkward exchange with the man himself which topped the twenty-four hours off. It was no wonder I was feeling below par. It