Connie slowed the car and changed gear before driving around the roundabout and up the cobbled High Street that I’d walked along so many times as a child. I was back in the village for the first time in thirteen years and I felt a tingling of excitement along my spine.
My eyes were wide, staring out of the passenger window, taking everything in. It felt like time had stood still and I’d never been away. Opposite the village pub stood a row of cottages, painted in different colours, facing on to the main street. I smiled to myself. Grandie and I used to take a stroll most evenings after school, which was basically code for going to the pub where Grandie sneaked a crafty pint and I was treated to a packet of salt and vinegar crisps. We’d sit on the benches outside and he would test me on the colour of the houses, for educational purposes, he said. Of course, I knew my colours at that age, but it was just our little bit of fun together. These were happy childhood memories. Apart from the new housing development that had sprung up on the outskirts of the village, everything appeared exactly the same.
‘There’s Mr Cross,’ I exclaimed in amazement, as I saw him disappearing through his front door. He owned the small bookshop on the corner of Bridge Lane in the heart of the village. ‘He doesn’t look any different,’ I remarked. He was just as I remembered him, dressed in a green checked wool jacket with brown leather patches on the elbows, over his smart sweater. ‘And does Mrs Berry still own the sweet shop?’ I asked, watching it whizz by.
‘She sure does, the kids still swarm in there after school, like bees around a honey pot.’ Connie smiled at me before turning into the next street.
‘What about The Old Teashop? Please tell me that’s still here?’
‘You do have a good memory! Yes, Mrs Jones is still there and over the years she’s won many awards for her delicious cakes.’
‘I must make sure I see her while I’m here. I wonder if she’d recognise me.’
‘I think she might. Looking at you is like looking at your grandfather. Your characteristics and mannerisms are exactly the same, but that accent of yours might cause a stir with the locals. It’s not often you hear an American accent round here.’
Connie flicked on the indicator and turned left into Croft Lane, ‘That’s Grace’s house, the one with the duck-egg-blue door.’ She nodded to a row of three cottages all with pink coloured roses entwined around their stunningly crafted oak beam porches. Each cottage had its own individual swinging garden gate. Colourful blooms drooped from the hanging baskets and the grass was neatly edged and mowed.
‘So pretty, a scene from a countryside magazine.’
‘She’s been there a little over two years now. You do know Grace and Finn have split up, don’t you?’ asked Connie, still staring at the road ahead.
‘I do, but we have a lot of catching up to do,’ I said, knowing how devastated Grace had been when she’d discovered Finn had been having an affair after they’d moved in together.
‘She isn’t going to arrive home for another hour. The show finished last night and she’s out to lunch with some of the cast members who are moving back to London. Do you fancy coming back to the farm and having a look around at the old place before she’s home?’
Gripped by intrigue and excitement, I responded, ‘Do I ever,’ feeling the corners of my mouth lift. Just thinking about the old place sent a tingle through my body. I wondered if it would still be the same as I remembered and how I would feel seeing it again after all this time. It was only a matter of seconds before I’d find out.
‘But what about Grandie?’ I asked, eager to see him.
Connie took a swift glance towards me. ‘I know you are desperate to see him, but he’s got visitors today. Why don’t you freshen up, unpack and settle in. And, we’ll go first thing tomorrow? There will be plenty of time to talk then too.’
I nodded. Even though I felt a pang of disappointment, I knew Connie was right. I didn’t want to go steaming in there, in front of other people, giving him the shock of his life, and tomorrow we had all the time in the world.
Two seconds later, as we travelled up Horsey Lane, the familiarity swathed me, and a swarm of butterflies erupted inside my tummy. Connie slowed the car right down in front of the wrought-iron gates and I reminded myself to breathe calmly, my heart thumping with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see my childhood home once more. There was a time when I thought I’d never see it again and now here I was, waiting anxiously for the gates to open. It was so surreal!
Connie pressed a small black remote control on the dashboard of the car, and the gates creaked and slowly began to open.
I glanced up the driveway towards Honeysuckle Farm. Thankfully, the rain had finally ceased, and the sun was shining through, glinting off the red tiled roof of the farmhouse. A vivid rainbow arched over the enormous cherry trees that flanked the edges of the driveway, their branches swaying lightly in the breeze.
‘Home,’ I breathed to myself.
The view was spectacular and took my breath away. It was a world away from the cloud-reaching skyscrapers of New York. Here bursts of colour bloomed from every flower bed, the gardens maintained like the perfectly manicured grounds of a stately home.
The three-storey farmhouse was every bit as idyllic as I remembered, just perfect in fact.
Everything felt calm and peaceful.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little strange, if I’m being honest. It’s weird. I used to live here. I used to run around splashing in that stream and, oh my … there’s Billy.’ I stared with surprise towards the chestnut Welsh pony who was currently scratching his bum against the old apple tree. Happy tears were now pricking my eyes.
‘Yes, he’s still going strong,’ smiled Connie, slowly driving the car up the long gravel driveway. ‘And look at that rainbow, now that’s a welcome home. Very impressive!’
Connie cut the engine and we climbed out of the car.
‘Can you smell that?’ I grabbed hold of Connie’s arm while I sniffed the air.
‘Smell what?’ answered Connie with amusement.
‘The country air, the smell of the farm, eau de cow muck. I’ve missed that.’
Connie chuckled, ‘I can’t make up my mind whether I’m laughing because you’ve missed the smell of dung or because you sound funny with that accent. Even though it’s you, you don’t sound like you … if you know what I mean.’
‘Home sweet home,’ I said with a contented sigh.
For a moment, I was rooted to the spot and silent. Staring up at the farmhouse, I couldn’t take my eyes off it and could visualise the last time I’d seen Grace and Connie standing there, waving goodbye to me the day I left. I shot a quick glance up to the bedroom window, hoping to see Grandie staring back at me, but of course he wasn’t there.
My sudden silence must have worried Connie because she reached out and squeezed my hand.
‘I didn’t think you’d ever be back, you know.’ She gazed in the same direction as me, and her voice wavered a little.
‘It’s like you’ve just read my mind,’ I said softly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while but I think Grace’s message gave me the push I needed.’
‘It must be hard, with the way things are between your grandfather and your mum.’
‘I don’t understand it. Mum won’t talk about it. I’ve no idea why we left, do you?’
Connie shook her head, ‘The circumstances were all very peculiar, and Ted wouldn’t talk about it either. Whatever went on between the pair of them left him heartbroken and I really have no clue. He never fully recovered from you both leaving so suddenly.’
A wave of guilt hit me. I knew I couldn’t do anything about it at the time but maybe I should have taken the plunge and got back in touch sooner. He’d been on his own all these years.
‘Families, eh?’ I said slowly, once more turning the bizarre situation over in my mind.
‘Come on, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.’ She gave me a warm smile as I followed her up the stone steps and waited behind her while she turned the key in the lock. The second she pushed open the door I heard a woof, then the sound of paws clattering along the wooden floor of the hallway. My heart began to beat faster and furiously, surely not … I held my breath and couldn’t believe my eyes as a black-and-white spaniel woofed again.
‘Marley! Oh my God, Marley!’ I dropped to my knees, the tears falling from my eyes. Being happy to see him again was an understatement. Marley wagged his tail and circled round me, sniffing frantically. Wrapping my arms around him, I buried my head into his neck and breathed in his familiar smell, then ruffled the fur on the top of his head as he began licking my face.
‘I can’t believe … I just can’t believe it. I didn’t think he’d still be here.’
Connie was smiling down at us. ‘Now that is what you call a welcome home. He’s a very old man now.’
‘Do you think he remembers me?’
‘I think it’s safe to say over the years I’ve never witnessed a welcome like that before.’
When I stood up, Marley kept close to me. I paused beside the imposing grandfather clock and looked around wide-eyed. Mixed emotions poured through my body. A part of me felt sad, knowing Grandie had rattled around in this place on his own since we left, and another part of me felt proud that he’d kept the farm.
‘How has he managed, living here all this time by himself?’ I asked, peering around. Even now, this place still looked humungous to me.
‘He hasn’t. Once Grace left home I sold our house and moved into the annexe. Up until then, I was here every day from eight in the morning and most evenings past eight too, but once Ted began to struggle to move around the place, it seemed the simplest solution would be to move in. I could never abandon him, he’s like family to me. He’s looked after me for all these years and Grace and I have never wanted for anything.’
‘He’s so lucky to have you.’
‘I’m the lucky one. I’ve loved my job here and I never want it to end.’ Connie’s voice faltered, and she blinked back the tears.
I knew what she was thinking and touched her arm gently. ‘Let’s not think about that,’ I said softly, linking my arm through hers. ‘Grandie will live forever, he’s a tough old cookie.’ Of course, I knew this wasn’t true but like Connie, I couldn’t bear to think about life without him being there. I was going to cherish every moment I had with him.
‘Let’s hope so,’ she gave my hand a little squeeze. ‘He moved his bedroom to the dining room once he began to find it difficult climbing the stairs. I prepare all his meals and usually he only uses the small sitting room off the kitchen. This place has been his home for over sixty years. Jim’s still here too. Do you remember him?’
It only took me a second to place Jim. ‘Yes … yes of course I do, Jim the gardener with his flat cap and green overalls.’
‘Probably still the same flat cap and the same pair of overalls,’ joked Connie. ‘He still maintains the garden and the general upkeep of the place.’
We walked up the hallway and I hovered near the antique dresser full of framed photographs. ‘Look at this one,’ I said, clutching the silver frame. ‘Mum looks so young and I’m riding Billy. I must have been about five years old.’ I cast my mind back to that day. The sun was shining, and I rode Billy through the field of buttercups. Mum and I sang songs from every musical we could remember, and picnicked in the bottom field. I messed about in the stream while Mum lounged on the red tartan rug reading a book.
‘Happy times.’
On our way towards the kitchen, Connie led me through the vast gallery. Heavy tapestry curtains adorned the huge windows at the far end of the room and the wallpaper of the hunt, with horses and foxes, still hung on the walls.
I glanced towards the stone fireplace and there she was, still watching me with a sparkle in her eye, like she’d done when I was a child. I paused and looked up at the magnificent painting.
‘Grandma’s still here then?’
‘She is, the beautiful Florrie Parker, your grandfather’s one and only true love. I don’t think he ever had another relationship after she passed away.’
‘That’s so heart-breaking … Mum never speaks about her, actually never talks about anything that’s to do with England,’ I said sadly, still staring up at the portrait.
I’d never met my grandmother, she’d passed away before I was born, but Grandie used to say I was just like her, beautiful inside and out and full of character. She reminded me of royalty, the queen of the manor. Her hair was just so, and her skin peachy white. When I’d walked through the room I’d always felt her eyes were twinkling at me.
Connie turned her head to look at me. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘Perfect.’
The kitchen looked just exactly how it did thirteen years ago. Floral curtains framed the windows that looked out over the fields. Pots and pans hung off the old wooden beams that ran across the ceiling. The racing-green Aga gleamed and there were even the same tea and coffee canisters that stood proudly next to the kettle. I paused at the window and peered out. I could see the top of the hill, where Brook Bridge woods met the top of the field. Grey stone walls criss-crossed the land and a tiny stretch of road snaked into the distance. The cattle in the nearby field were grazing, the calves swishing their tails beside their mothers. That view was achingly familiar, a view I’d loved as a child and one I’d missed. Feeling a little emotional, I gave myself a little shake. It was so different to New York City. This place felt like home.
Turning, I sat down at the oversized pine table while Connie made the drinks. Marley nestled close to me.
‘How long will Grandie be in hospital for?’
Connie looked in my direction for a fraction of a second before rummaging in the top cupboard for a couple of mugs.
‘I’m not entirely sure. Hopefully the doctor will be able to update us tomorrow,’ she said, sitting down opposite me.
On the journey home, Connie had told me about Grandie’s fall. She’d been watching him from the window of the annexe. One minute he’d been there and the next he was gone, toppling down the steps that led to the patio. She’d found him within seconds, but he’d banged the side of his head on the corner of the stone wall and had felt dazed. The doctors had stitched him up and decided to keep him in for observation.
Finally, the kettle whistled and Connie stood up and made us both a cup of tea.
‘Thank you, Connie,’ I said. ‘I really appreciate everything you do for him.’ Being back here, I could see for myself that the upkeep of the farmhouse would be a struggle for anyone on their own, never mind an elderly person like Grandie.
‘You don’t need to thank me. Your grandfather gave me a job when I was at the lowest point of my life and I’ll always be grateful.’ She sat back down and slid the mug across the table towards me.
‘I couldn’t have carried on being married to Paul. It was a big decision to go it alone with a child but he’d stripped me of my self-confidence and self-worth and something had to change.’
‘What happened between you two? Did he have an affair?’
‘That’s an understatement,’ she rolled her eyes, ‘but I’m over it now and I haven’t set eyes on him since the day he left.’
‘What about Grace?’
‘She’s not seen him either. He’s never been in touch, disappeared off the face of the earth. I withdrew from relationships for a while and concentrated on making a happy life for me and Grace.’
I gave her a tentative smile. ‘And now?’ I said, raising an eyebrow.
‘Life twists and turns in many ways,’ she answered, cupping her mug of tea. ‘Jim …’ she paused, ‘me and Jim are together. We’ve been lucky to have been friends for years. When I first moved into the annexe, I’d discover fresh food parcels on the doorstep every morning.’
‘How romantic,’ I smiled, thinking how lovely it was that their friendship had blossomed over the years …
Connie blushed and suddenly Marley woofed, sat up and began thumping his tail on the floor.
‘Brought together by asparagus and strawberries,’ another voice suddenly chipped into the conversation.
Immediately, we both spun round to see a teary-eyed Grace beaming back at us.
‘Oh my life … Alice Parker, you’re home!’ she shrieked.
Huge happy tears threatened to break loose at any second. Grace squealed, then I squealed, scraping my chair backwards as she rushed towards me with her arms flung wide, then clamped them around me.
We bounced up and down like kids on pogo sticks. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually here … Alice Parker, look at you, even more gorgeous in real life, you haven’t changed a bit!… Except for that dodgy-sounding accent!’ she exclaimed breathlessly.
I loved the way she’d said my full name in an English accent.
‘What’s wrong with my accent?’ I laughed, emphasising it even more. ‘And after that many hours on a plane I wouldn’t class myself as gorgeous. My make-up slid off several hours ago!’
‘Who needs make-up?’ She took a step back and looked me over again. ‘You’re real, you’re actually here. We’ve got so much catching up to do!’
Connie watched us with amusement. ‘How did you know we were here?’
Grace turned towards her mum and kissed her on her cheek. ‘You weren’t at mine and you kind of live here, which is a bit of a giveaway. So, I thought I’d come over. I couldn’t wait any longer to see Alice,’ she said, swinging back towards me.
‘Grab a seat, I’ll make you a drink,’ Connie said, standing up to boil the kettle once again.
‘How’re you feeling? Tired?’ asked Grace, slipping into her mum’s seat, grabbing my hands across the table and clasping them tight. ‘The jetlag will kick in soon. I still can’t believe you are here … I’m babbling now, aren’t I?’ she trilled, and I bit back a giggle at her excitement.
‘At the minute, I’m not too bad, I think my body is running on adrenalin! And luckily for me, I managed to sleep the whole of the flight.’
‘I’ve been on edge all day!’ she said, taking the drink from Connie. ‘I actually woke up this morning and prepared myself for the worst. I was worried you would change your mind about coming.’
‘I almost did. I can’t believe that yesterday I was in New York and now I’m back here, in Brook Bridge village.’ I grinned at Grace, ‘It’s so surreal.’
‘That’s what aeroplanes are for! How’re you feeling about seeing the village again, this place?’
‘I didn’t know how I’d feel, but now I’m here, I have to admit I’ve missed this place more than I realised. And Marley …’ I shot him a glance, ‘I never thought I’d ever see him again.’
Connie and Grace both smiled at me.
‘It’s great to see you back here,’ Connie chipped in.
‘It feels so right to be back, it’s been far too long. The only upsetting thing is, I wish Mum was with me.’
Grace gave me a sympathetic smile before sipping her tea.
For the next half hour, we reminisced about life before New York: our trips to the sweet shop to buy penny chews and the time we’d got stuck up the old apple tree in the orchard and the fire brigade was nearly called out to rescue us.
‘Are you up for the pub later? No pressure if you’d rather chill and grab a bottle of wine and put your feet up?’ asked Grace when we’d finished our drinks.
‘I’m up for the pub,’ I replied, remembering the Sunday afternoons I’d be sat by Grandie’s side while he enjoyed a game of dominoes with his friends – such fond memories. ‘But I’ll apologise in advance if my head suddenly droops and you find me fast asleep at the table.’
‘You just shout up when you’ve had enough.’
‘What’s the plan now?’ Connie interrupted. ‘Shall we head back to yours, Grace, or do you want me to rustle you up some food here?’ she asked, taking the empty mugs and rinsing them out in the sink.
‘What’s Jim doing?’ Grace turned towards her.
‘He’s sorting himself out tonight, so I thought I’d grab a bite with you girls.’
‘Shall we eat back at mine, then, and get you settled in?’ Grace turned back towards me.
‘That sounds like a perfect plan,’ I beamed, standing up. ‘I still can’t believe I’m back,’ I said, repeating myself and taking in my surroundings once more.
‘There’s no place like home,’ Connie smiled, grabbing the car keys from the table. ‘Come on, you pair, I’m ravenous and you must be too, Alice?’
‘I am, now you come to mention it. I managed to miss all the food on the plane.’
‘You probably didn’t miss much,’ grinned Grace.
Marley was now fast asleep in his bed at the foot of the Aga. Kneeling down, I patted his stomach and he peeped out of one eye before shutting it firmly again. ‘See you very soon.’
After locking up the farmhouse we clambered into the car, Grace sitting in the back with me. Connie started the engine and we began to drive towards the wrought-iron gates.
I glanced back over my shoulder and glimpsed the farmhouse once more before the car manoeuvred through the open gates on to the lane. I shuddered at the thought of leaving it behind again and that’s when I knew. The tiny niggle deep in my brain had finally worked its way to the surface after all this time. The overwhelming feeling of security and contentment had enveloped me the second I stepped off the plane. Deep inside, I knew I didn’t have any intention of returning to New York. I’d come home, and all I had to do now was convince Mum to do the same.