Foxglove Farm. Christie Barlow
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took a swift look around the teashop that had once been her gran’s life. Bonnie Stewart had converted the front room of her cottage into a tearoom for passing ramblers and had enjoyed every minute of it.
Since she’d passed away Felicity had taken over the running of the family business with her mum, Rona, and felt proud keeping her grandmother’s business and name very much alive in the heart of the village. Being back in Heartcross was where Felicity belonged, and she couldn’t ever imagine leaving it again.
‘But what’s this got to do with why you’re upset?’
Isla blinked away more tears.
‘Come on, Isla, it can’t be that bad?’
‘Drew and I had an argument,’ shared Isla, feeling a tiny bit disloyal to him even mentioning it to Flick. Pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot and cupping her hands around the mug, she added, ‘And I wouldn’t mind, but I’d woken up in a good mood, until he decided to ruin my day.’
‘What were you arguing about?’
‘I’m not entirely sure. Out of the blue he suggested … no, actually he didn’t suggest, he insisted I was sponging off him, wasn’t pulling my weight and that … wait for it … I need to get a job … Can you believe it?’ Isla rolled her eyes.
Before Finn was born Isla had worked at a nursery over in the town of Glensheil and Isla could remember quite clearly Drew suggesting that she should become a stay-at-home mum. They’d discussed it at great length. The children were only young once and neither of them wanted to put them in full-time child care or after-school clubs.
‘He actually said that you were sponging off him?’
‘Well, not in so many words,’ admitted Isla. ‘But basically, that I wasn’t financially pulling my weight …’ Isla whispered, feeling the anger beginning to rise again. ‘And how the hell am I going to fit a job in, as well as taking Finn to school, washing, ironing, shopping etc. etc., and wouldn’t I just be working to pay child-care costs? It all seems ridiculous to me.’
‘But it might be good for you to have a little independence, something just for you,’ Rona said, overhearing a small snippet of the conversation. ‘Maybe a little extra pocket money,’ added Rona, sliding a Full Scottish breakfast towards Isla.
‘Mum!’
‘Sorry … sorry, I was only saying,’ she said, flinging her hands up into the air and quickly scurrying back into the kitchen.
‘Oh, and then, he’s decided I can’t see my friends.’
‘What?!’
‘He said I spend too much time in the teashop and in the pub seeing my friends and wasting his hard-earned cash. What does he expect me to do? Sit in the farmhouse all day, staring at four walls and talking to no-one?’
‘And you have no idea what’s prompted this outburst?’
Isla shook her head, ‘None at all.’
‘And what do you feel about going back to work?’
Isla stabbed the sausage on her plate and poised the fork near her mouth. ‘It’s too soon … look at him.’
All eyes turned towards Angus, who was making sucking noises with his mouth while fast asleep. ‘I’m not handing him over to anyone, and we agreed I didn’t need to work when I had the children. Financially it wasn’t worth it, which is what makes this all so confusing.’
Felicity shrugged, knowing Isla’s frame of mind was justified. ‘And let’s face it, in this small village there isn’t much opportunity for work unless you travel.’
Isla looked horrified at the thought. ‘Has Fergus said anything to you about Drew’s moods?’
‘Only that he didn’t seem himself at the moment … moody … a bit short-tempered, but he just put it down to interrupted sleep, with a new baby in the house.’
‘Believe me, his sleep is far from interrupted.’
Isla knew that they usually managed to communicate without conversations escalating into rows, but recently she did feel like she was treading on eggshells around her husband.
‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, we all have off days and with a new baby in the house, however adorable, it must put a strain on things,’ said Felicity reassuringly, as she reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Now go and give your face a quick wipe and I’ll get you a fresh pot of tea.’
‘Thanks Flick, for listening to me.’
‘Don’t be daft, what are friends for.’
As Isla disappeared into the bathroom, Felicity stood behind her mum, who seemed deep in thought.
‘Penny for them,’ said Felicity tentatively, watching her mum closely.
‘I was just thinking about this place, how many people have passed through that door over the years, how many cups of tea have been served and how many cakes have been devoured since Mum opened up all those years ago.’ She smiled, ‘I’m so glad you came home, and we are here … together.’
‘Me too,’ replied Felicity, grabbing the tea towel and drying the plates on the draining board. ‘It must have been thousands of cups of tea,’ she said and smiled at her mum.
‘And you best turn that sign around, otherwise we’ll have no customers today.’ Rona nodded towards the door. ‘Is Isla okay?’
‘She will be,’ answered Felicity, walking towards the door.
As soon as she flicked the sign over to ‘Open’ and returned to the kitchen, the old-fashioned bell chimed to signal a customer. Rona was expecting an influx of customers today, as Julia who ran the village’s B&B had informed her she was already full to the brim this week with a rambling club all the way from Staffordshire. As soon as the weather became warmer the teashop was always busy with hikers grabbing a packed lunch before setting off on their trek over the Scottish Highlands.
‘I could murder a cuppa and a slice of toast.’
Immediately on hearing the voice, Rona screwed up her eyes and stared, ‘No way! It can’t be …’
‘Yes, way!’ There in the doorway stood an elderly woman, wearing a shabby green coat that hung from her tiny frame, thick black tights that were laddered at the knee and a pair of chunky Doc Martens shoes. She looked around seventy, short and plump with her grey wispy hair wound up in a bun, and she had a huge beam on her face.
Immediately Rona stood up and flung her arms open wide and hugged the woman. ‘Martha Gray! Where the hell have you been? How lovely to see you! It must be at least …’
‘Too long to remember,’ interrupted Martha.
Felicity was scrutinising her mum’s face for clues to who this woman was, as Rona turned towards Felicity.
‘Martha … it’s Martha … Isla’s grandmother, your Grandmother Bonnie’s best friend,’ said Rona. But by the time Rona had jogged Felicity’s memory, Martha was already kissing her on both cheeks.
‘Oh my, so it is!’ Felicity hadn’t seen Martha since she’d moved away to London eight years ago. She’d lost a lot of weight and seemed shorter than Felicity recalled. She remembered her working in the teashop alongside her grandmother years ago.
‘Well … where is she?’ said Martha, straining her neck and casting a glance over the teashop. For a second Felicity thought she meant Isla until she added, ‘My old partner in crime, surely she hasn’t taken the day off … I’ve never known Bonnie Stewart to take a day off before.’
Rona felt puzzled and looked towards Felicity as the penny dropped. Rona swallowed a lump in her throat and took a deep breath. ‘She’s gone, Martha … she’s gone.’
‘What,