The next morning, I woke up with the sunshine bursting through the curtains and the birds chirping outside my window. Within a split second, fleeting images from the pub flooded my mind once more as I remembered the way Sam had been treated.
When Grace had arrived home the night before, we’d shared a bottle of wine and I’d recounted the events, describing how for the first time I felt a little unsettled being back in the village. I thought my life was about to change for the better but after witnessing the hostility towards Sam that still lingered, I wasn’t impressed with some of the Brook Bridge residents.
Grace had divulged that there had been rivalry between Ben’s family and the Reids for decades. Ben’s grandmother had been Florrie’s best friend, and even after her death the family grudge between them had never disappeared. But after all this time, was there any need to continue to carry such animosity? Hadn’t time moved on? Given what I’d witnessed outside the pub, Sam had kept his cool, walked away. There hadn’t been any retaliation, so it appeared to me that he didn’t want any part of it. And I couldn’t blame him. I could sympathise. I too was fed up with people falling out over ancient feuds.
I sat in bed for a little while before I threw back the duvet and walked gingerly into the bathroom. Once inside the shower, I let the water cascade over my body while I thought about the day ahead. This morning I’d arranged to meet Bert at the dance school and once his lesson was over, I was going to take a walk up to Honeysuckle Farm to see Grandie before, hopefully, tracking down Sam.
Fifteen minutes later, with my hair washed and my make-up on, I wandered downstairs to the smell of bacon cutting through the air.
Grace smiled at me.
‘Breakfast,’ she said, placing a bacon sandwich and a mug of tea on the table in front of me. ‘Sleep well?’
On the whole I had, which was no doubt helped by the boost in alcohol consumption after Grace’s arrival home.
‘Yes, not bad.’
‘And the plan for today?’ she asked, sitting down opposite me.
‘Firstly, I’m foxtrotting with Bert.’
‘No Lycra,’ Grace reminded me, and I smiled. ‘See, there is a smile in there somewhere,’ she teased.
‘Just a little one,’ I said, squeezing my thumb and forefinger together, ‘but there’s stuff playing on my mind. I don’t know what to do.’
‘What sort of stuff?’
‘I was beginning to get excited about the dance school. I had it all mapped out in my mind – new dreams, something for me to focus on. I thought I’d waltz in and get the place fit for purpose again. I had visions of running dance classes at the weekend for the children, then during week nights I was thinking I could jive with the WI on a Monday, tango with couples on a Tuesday, paso doble with pensioners on a Wednesday and charleston with everyone else on a Thursday, leaving me Friday nights free to recharge my batteries. I wanted everyone flocking back to the dance school – a feel-good community atmosphere bringing all the generations back together with one common goal – to have fun and learn to dance, but now …’
‘But now …?’ urged Grace.
‘After last night, it doesn’t feel like a feel-good community.’ I looked at her incredulously and exhaled.
‘Don’t let what happened last night spoil your vision.’
I didn’t answer. Reality had hit – maybe village life wasn’t a bed of roses. Why couldn’t people just be kind?
‘Ben will be jealous.’
‘Jealous?’
‘Yes, look at you … gorgeous … and seeing you with Sam will have taken him by surprise.’
‘It was obvious to anyone walking past that Sam wasn’t bothering me. Ben caused a scene for no reason. What are Grandie’s thoughts on Sam and his family?’ I asked, suddenly realising I had no idea.
‘You’ll have to ask him that one,’ answered Grace. ‘He’s never spoken about it – well, not to me, anyway.’
Taking a bite of my bacon sandwich, my eyes threatened tears as I pondered the complexities of the past. Why did it all have to be so complicated?
‘But …’ Grace carried on as I cast my eyes towards her, ‘don’t let that situation cloud your judgement. That’s their problem, not yours. Just like whatever went on between your mum and grandfather, it’s not your argument.’
‘Look at me, stumbling at the first hurdle.’
‘Don’t panic, no one is stumbling. More like thinking about it all too much.’
I nodded, taking a swig of my tea.
‘Don’t think about it, just get on and do it.’ I knew Grace was talking sense. I couldn’t dwell on who was talking to who or what grudges they held. I needed to focus on my own life, my own business, and that started right now, this morning … I couldn’t wait to begin teaching Bert.