Foxglove Farm. Christie Barlow
unbuttoned her coat. ‘I can’t take this in … when did this happen?’ She gulped back a sob, dabbing her face with a tissue from her pocket.
‘Christmas time,’ replied Rona, taking her coat and hanging it on the stand in the corner of the teashop.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I know I’ve not been around for a while, but she was always my best friend, you know. I had visions of us running riot over in Glensheil on my return. Surely the nightlife is still the same over the bridge … gin nights and late-night parties are all the rage nowadays, knit and natter is so last year and way too tame these days.’
‘I’m sure if she was still here, she wouldn’t have hesitated to join you.’ Rona couldn’t help but smile. Martha had always had a zest for life and lived every day like it was her last. It didn’t matter how long Martha was away from Heartcross, she always slotted straight back in, like she’d never been away.
Many years ago, Bonnie and Martha had been inseparable, thick as thieves, and for a short time Martha had worked in the old teashop alongside Bonnie when the rambling trade was soaring. The teashop was the last stop on Love Heart Lane before the stile that led the ramblers over the heather-wreathed glens, beautiful waterfalls and majestic mountains. The climb was one of spectacular scenery.
Martha had last been seen in the village last spring. It had been a fresh, crisp morning when a gang of ramblers had fallen into the teashop before a five-hour hike. And that’s when Martha had met Walt, in the teashop over eggs benedict. Later that evening he’d changed his walking trousers and boots to an outfit of brown tweed jacket, checked shirt and navy corduroys … and that had been that. After their very first date she’d stepped down as chair for the Women’s Institute, had removed herself from the parish council and had done a moonlight flit with Walter, leaving Isla to report her as a missing person until a postcard had landed on her doormat all the way from a Caribbean cruise.
‘Taken too soon,’ Martha was muttering over and over again.
‘Let me get you a coffee?’
‘I need something stronger, I’m in shock.’
‘Nothing changes,’ Rona mouthed to Felicity.
‘Sherry,’ said Martha, ‘or whisky?’
‘Go and pour a whisky from the decanter on the sideboard,’ Rona whispered.
Felicity nodded and soon returned with the amber-looking liquid in a crystal glass.
‘Rest in peace, dear Bonnie,’ Martha said, swirling the whisky around in the glass before necking it in one gulp.
Felicity winced at the very thought of the burn in the back of the throat.
‘Does Isla know you are coming?’ asked Felicity, taking a swift glance towards the bathroom door, thinking that Isla hadn’t mentioned her grandmother’s return.
‘I thought I’d surprise her,’ answered Martha.
They were both in no doubt that Isla would be in complete surprise, especially after Martha had upped and left the village to live life to the max.
Martha had been Isla’s only real family left in Heartcross. Years ago, Isla’s parents had emigrated to New Zealand, but Isla hadn’t wanted to leave the village or Drew and had moved into the farmhouse with his family.
‘You do know you have two great-grandchildren now, don’t you?’
‘What … two … When did that happen?’
Rona nodded her head towards the sleeping baby in the pram. ‘When you were travelling around the world …’ said Rona, raising her eyebrows. ‘Or doing whatever you’ve been doing all this time.’
‘Two boys,’ chipped in Felicity. ‘Finn has a brother, Angus.’
Martha peered inside the pram, ‘And this is him?’ she said, overwhelmed.
‘It sure is.’
‘Well I never,’ she exclaimed, reaching for his tiny hand.
As Isla stepped back into the teashop, she stopped dead in her tracks. Immediately Isla recognised the shabby coat, the Doc Martens boots. ‘Gran, is that you?’
Martha spun round and flung her arms open to a rather flabbergasted Isla, whose jaw had dropped somewhere below her knees.
‘It most definitely is!’
‘Granny … what the …’ She stopped to catch her breath. ‘What are you doing here? And where’s Walter, is he with you?’ she asked, quickly scanning the teashop.
‘Always asking questions!’ Martha kissed her granddaughter on both cheeks. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’ve come to stay. I knew you’d be so happy to see me.’
‘Stay? How long for?’
‘You know what, dear granddaughter, I think this time I’m back for good.’
Martha enveloped Isla in the tightest hug ever, and as Isla struggled to breathe she locked eyes with Felicity. Over her gran’s shoulder she mouthed wearily, ‘Back for good? Forget the tea, I’m in need of that gin.’
Finally releasing her granddaughter from her tight grip, Martha swooped straight into the pram and planted a noisy, sloppy kiss on to Angus’s head. His warm body wriggled in her arms as she inhaled his baby smell.
‘Isn’t he just the best? Angus … what a good Scottish name. Me and you are going to be the best of friends.’
Isla felt perplexed. Angus was now three months old and there had been no interest from Martha for all that time, and suddenly they were going to be the best of friends? And never mind Finn, who was six years old and hadn’t seen his great-gran in the last twelve months! And now she was acting like the doting granny. Of course, Isla had thought about trying to contact her when Angus was born, but she hadn’t a clue where to begin. Martha wasn’t one for staying in one place for a long time. From experience Isla knew her granny was of a flighty nature and goodness knows where she was or what was ever going on in her life. But one thing she knew for sure was that eventually she’d turn up again.
‘I can’t take my eyes off him,’ Martha was still gazing adoringly at Angus.
‘Gran … are you serious … are you back for good?’ Isla had to ask, as the realisation of her words had well and truly sunken in after the initial shock.
Martha jerked her head towards Rona, ‘You’d think my granddaughter wasn’t happy to see me.’
‘It’s not that,’ Isla added quickly, but the look on her face said it all. ‘A bit more notice wouldn’t go amiss. Have you booked into the B&B? Julia never mentioned it.’
Martha threw back her head and laughed. ‘The B&B? Why would I want to stay there when I can stay with my beautiful granddaughter?’
The words hit Isla like a high-speed train. She wasn’t sure if she could muster up enough energy to wait on another house guest, and what was Drew going to say? Not that he had anything against Martha, but his mood was a little unpredictable lately.
‘I’ll have to make up the spare room.’
‘I can help with that,’ said Martha, gently rocking Angus in her arms before safely placing him back inside the pram.
‘And where’s Walter? Will he be joining you?’ asked Isla, suddenly panicking that there were going to be two unexpected house guests.
Martha shook her head. ‘Walter … He’s long gone … I’ve seen the last of him. One minute he was contentedly reading the Daily Mail like he did every morning with his cup of tea, and next he was on a train to Brighton, with that floozy Jennifer from the corner shop, and that was