A Taste of Home

reasoning for keeping it to herself. My grandfather certainly wouldn’t have felt any better knowing he had lost his daughter and a grandchild.
‘And what about your father?’ she asked me, picking up on what Eliot was getting at. ‘Did she tell you anything about him?’
‘Only that he was a holiday fling and very good looking.’
‘Oh, he was,’ Louise nodded.
‘You knew him?’ I gasped.
‘Not knew exactly,’ she said, allowing herself a wistful smile at the memory. ‘We weren’t with him long enough for that, but I did see him. Your mum and I were holidaying together. It was our first trip abroad. Your grandfather didn’t want us to go on our own, but I convinced him it would be all right. I was always the sensible one and I promised him I’d keep Jennifer out of mischief.’
‘You didn’t do a very good job,’ said Eliot, looking pointedly at me.
‘Thanks,’ I swallowed.
‘Eliot,’ Louise quickly stepped in.
‘Sorry,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That didn’t sound how I meant it to.’
‘And you’ll never know the depth of the guilt I’ve carried for all these years for not keeping a closer eye on her,’ Louise then said, making me feel a hundred times worse.
‘Oh, and thank you too,’ I said, pushing back my chair.
‘Oh love,’ she said, ‘I don’t mean…’
‘No matter,’ I said cutting her off and walking to the back door. ‘I’m just going to get some fresh air.’
There wasn’t much of a garden attached to the side of the house, but I found some shade from the spring sunshine under an ancient apple tree which was in the middle of an overgrown lawn around the side furthest from the yard. I sat down and looked back at the house and outbuildings, determined to phase the conversation out for a few minutes and take my surroundings in.
I knew Eliot and Louise hadn’t meant any harm, but I was feeling tired and emotional and it had been easy for me to take offence at their poor choice of words. Best to have some time out, before I said something I’d regret, especially as I was relying on Louise to run me back to town. I rested my back against the tree and looked about me.
From what I could see of Fenview Farm, it was all a little rough around the edges but homely enough, and there was no doubt in my mind that I would have found the day so much harder to cope with had it not been happening on a farm. The setting was comfortingly familiar, even if the events and revelations that were unfolding were completely alien.
‘I’m sorry about our inability to turn a phrase,’ said Louise, when she came out to join me a few minutes later. ‘This has all been such a shock.’
‘For all of us,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes,’ she said, sitting on the grass next to me. ‘For all of us and I don’t want you to misconstrue or take anything that Eliot might foolishly say to heart. It’s really not personal or aimed at upsetting you, he’s just very protective of Bill.’
‘I can see that,’ I conceded. ‘My grandfather is very lucky to have Eliot in his corner.’
‘Their relationship works both ways, Felicity,’ she smiled.
‘What does that mean?’ I asked. ‘And it’s Fliss. No offence, but everyone calls me Fliss, not Felicity.’
‘Fliss then,’ she nodded.
‘What do you mean about things working both ways?’ I prompted.
As one we looked towards the house where Eliot had just come out with a basket of laundry which he then started to peg out on the old-fashioned washing line.
‘He’s very fond of your grandfather,’ Louise quietly said, still watching her son.
‘That much is more than obvious,’ I smiled. ‘You’d have to be an idiot not to realise it. Not everyone would give up their holiday to look after a grumpy old man.’
‘He’s not really a grumpy old man,’ Louise smiled back. ‘From what Eliot told me the doctor said, you just caught him at the wrong moment.’
‘That’s good to know,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to think that bad-tempered was his go-to.’
‘It’s really not,’ she carried on. ‘He was a saviour to my son when he was a teenager.’
‘How so?’ I asked, turning from staring at Eliot to look at her.
She took a deep breath and a moment to compose herself.
‘As you’ve no doubt worked out, I had Eliot quite soon after your mum had you. I had fallen in love and married a local lad but he tragically died young and Eliot went off the rails quite badly until Bill took him under his wing. Your grandfather helped him find a purpose again. He kept him busy here on the farm, out of the bad company he’d fallen into and consequently out of further mischief.’
The way Louise spoke so fondly about my grandfather and the protective feelings Eliot obviously had for him, made me wonder what had been the problem between him and Mum. From what I’d just heard, he didn’t sound like a man who was difficult to get along with. What had happened between my two relatives that caused a rift that lasted, in Mum’s case, a lifetime?
Then I remembered some of the fallings out Mum and I had gone through when I hit my teens. I supposed other people’s family were quite often easier to get on with than your own, weren’t they?
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to Louise. ‘About your husband I mean.’
It must have been so hard for her, struggling with her loss and an angry teenager.
‘Thank you. It was a difficult time, but we eventually moved on.’
‘That’s good.’
‘It is,’ she agreed, then sagely added, ‘but you can’t rush grief. You have to let it run its own course if you’re going to deal with it properly and you must accept that it never leaves you. It becomes a part of you and you learn to live with it.’
I didn’t much like the thought of carrying the way I was feeling now around with me for ever.
‘It