In all her life Honey had never driven anything as grand as Guy’s car. However she did hold a licence and it seemed there would be no alternative. She didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified but there was no point in telling him about her misgivings. He had enough to worry about. She wasn’t going to scratch the car anyway, was she?
“Of course I can drive. However, we’re not out of the woods yet – literally. Is it very tender?”
“Not so tender that I’m willing to forego that picnic. Here, let’s get this off me,” he said as he struggled to get the pack off his back.
Guy’s colour had returned and it was obvious the injury, painful though it might be, wasn’t very serious. Lunch was consumed with eagerness by both. There’s nothing like a walk to work up an appetite. Honey had even thoughtfully brought a piece of chocolate fudge cake for Guy which made him laugh but it didn’t stop him refusing to share it with her.
“Surely you brought some for yourself?”
“I didn’t expect you to wolf down the whole lot.”
“Then you’ve forgotten how much I like chocolate fudge cake.”
“If I’d forgotten I wouldn’t have brought it with, would I?”
One up to Honey.
Somehow they made it back to the car without further mishap, although they did get their feet wet when they crossed the river again.
“Just as my socks had dried out as well.”
“You’d better put those other shoes on anyway if you’re going to drive.”
She did and they drove home, Honey managing not to get a single scratch on the car and very much enjoying driving something with so much power.
“That was great fun,” she said as she pulled up outside The Grange. “Thank you for a lovely day. I hope your ankle doesn’t give you too much trouble.”
“You’re welcome. It’s much better since we’ve been in the car and I’ve kept my weight off it. Maybe we can do it again, when my ankle’s better.”
“That would be lovely.”
“I’m sorry I can’t walk you home.”
“That’s okay. While I’m here I’ll pop in and see my mother.”
“Okay, I’ll go and see if I can rustle up a dry pair of socks.”
“That would be nice. I don’t really want to squelch myself all the way home.”
Honey spent half an hour with Daisy in the day room where most of the patients went when they weren’t in their rooms. It was a nice room overlooking the garden and because of the age of the house the doorways were wide enough to make for the easy wheelchair access some of the patients needed and ramps had been put in to help.
“The sun’s going down now, Mum, but it’s been a beautiful day. Have you been looking out of the window?”
Daisy pointed. “At the garden? Of course.”
There were tears in Honey’s eyes as she got up to leave, some tears of anger that Guy was being so high-handed in his treatment of the residents. Her mother was so content in these beautiful surroundings. As she walked into the reception area he came out of a side room proffering dry socks. He didn’t get quite the reaction he’d been expecting.
“How can you, Guy? She’s happy here. They’re all happy here. How can you even think about taking that away from them?”
She stormed out leaving him holding the socks. Guy turned away sadly thinking, two steps forward three steps back.
Out of the Blue
Suzie was both pleased and amazed at the response to her article. It seemed the whole of Rills Ford was against the proposed new care home and her celebrity had risen to such a height that people were stopping to talk to her in the street.
“You did absolutely the right thing, young lady. Thinks he can come back here and do what he likes with never a by your leave,” said one.
“It’s about time somebody took a stand against those who are born with a silver spoon in their mouth and act as if the whole world belonged to them,” said another.
There were a lot of ‘just like his mother’ type remarks which Suzie knew wasn’t true but which she wasn’t given the opportunity to refute because, once they got started, people did so like to offer their opinion. With a pang of guilt she thought she probably wouldn’t have done so anyway. She wasn’t keen to protect Guy, not because she didn’t like him but because she cared passionately about her environment and she truly believed what she was doing was for the best. Suzie was secretly amused by the attitude of some of her assenters and told Honey.
“All these accusations about wealth and everything coming easily; anyone would think people here were on the breadline instead of living in a pretty affluent area surrounded by upper middle class folk. Don’t quote me on that.”
“I hate to say it, Suzie, and don’t you quote me either, but most are small town people with small town minds.”
Suzie took out her reporter’s pad and pencil and began to write. “Would you mind saying that again; I’d like to get it just right.”
“Don’t you dare,” Honey said, laughing. “Seriously, Suzie, I’m more than grateful to you for what you’ve done but I can’t help feeling that some of the people in Rills Ford are making a scapegoat of Guy, rather than concentrating on the real issue of the care home.”
“You’re right, of course, but anything that carries this campaign forward is good enough for me.”
Honey knew her friend well enough to know that Suzie’s motives were honourable but she couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t doing her career any harm either. If push came to shove would Suzie’s principles outweigh her craving for success? As far as Honey was concerned the only pushing and shoving involved her mother, from one place to another, “and I’m not having it, Suzie. Not if I can do anything to stop it.”
Honey thought Guy’s mini patisserie idea only proved what a thoughtful man he really was which left her at even more of a loss to understand why he was being so highhanded about The Grange. Okay, I know it’s his home but if he’s managed without it for fourteen years why the hell doesn’t he build something for himself in the grounds instead? She knew she was being unreasonable. Whatever she might think about her mother and the rest of them it was his ancestral home. Alexandra had always given people to understand the tenuous noble link came through her line when in fact it was her husband’s. While she didn’t give a toss about anyone but herself – unless they were rich or famous or both – her son had inherited something of the responsibilities of noblesse oblige and Honey recognised this. Aside from the monstrosity she believed he was planning to build she had no illusions that he was in it for the money. Guy would always try to do the right thing. She’d recognised it in the boy on several occasions when he’d got Basil out of a scrape and she knew it in the man. No matter what she thought about him though her mother had no-one but Honey to look out for her. The conflict within her was pulling her in different directions so on Monday evening she ‘lost’ herself in her baking, experimenting with sizes and shapes and fillings in an effort to make her pastries different from anything else that might be available. By the end of the week after working all hours she’d achieved something she was satisfied with. On Sunday morning she baked a complete batch of assorted patisserie, decorating each little cake with a marzipan bee, and took them to The Grange to show Guy. She hadn’t seen him all week. He hadn’t been to the tearooms and she hadn’t given herself an evening off to go to the Rose and Crown, the main centre of the town for socialising. She tried to persuade herself she hadn’t missed him.
“Honey, these are truly magnificent.”
She smiled, tried to look demure, failed and grinned at him.
“I am quite pleased with them myself. I did drawings of most of them first so that I could see what I was aiming for.”
“Maybe you’re the one who should have been an architect.”
Oops. Wrong thing to say. Honey’s smile fled. Guy was inwardly kicking himself but he was honestly more impressed than he’d expected to be. Here was a real talent and it gave him an
idea, though he realised he’d have to tread carefully as he was obviously prone to putting his foot in it.
“Have you seen Daisy yet? It’s nearly teatime. Maybe we could go and join the residents and see what they think, though it’s a shame to ruin such artistry by eating them. Maybe I’ll just…”
She slapped his hand away as he reached towards the tray but the smile was back in place.
“Oh no you don’t. These aren’t for you. No, I haven’t seen her yet and yes it seems like a good time to try them out.”
“Here, let me carry them.”
“As if.”
“Don’t be silly. I need both hands to hold the tray. They’ll be safer if I take them.”
The looks of delight were everything Honey needed to reward her for the effort she’d made, because she was truly tired. She thought Daisy looked tired as well and took Betty to one side to see if she’d noticed.
“Yes, she’s been like this for the last couple of days. We’re keeping an eye on her and we’ll call the doctor in if we think there’s an underlying cause.”
“I feel so guilty. I’ve been rushing back to work every evening and I didn’t even notice.”
“Well if these are the results of your labours I can see why you might have been preoccupied. You’ve put a lot of thought into the presentation and the one I tasted just melted in my mouth.”
Betty’s practised eye looked keenly at Honey without her even realising, at the beginnings of little worry lines in the corners of her eyes.
“Look, try not to be anxious, which I realise is a silly thing to say because I know you can’t help it. It may just be one of those things that fly around at this time of year. No-one’s come down with anything yet but I always dread it. You can bet your bottom dollar if one gets it they all will.”
Honey knew there was little that escaped Betty and trusted her implicitly to care for her charges. She went to talk to Daisy again but as her mother was hardly responsive she got up to leave when Guy said, “I’d like to talk before you go, if you have time.”
“Yes, of course. Here?”
“In the study. This way.”
Honey followed him out into the large hallway with its magnificent divided staircase and shuddered at the thought of the modern monstrosity she believed Guy was planning to build close by. Here all was peaceful, the surroundings speaking of warmth and comfort, the occasional pieces of furniture and beautiful hangings in the gallery window giving hint to a more elegant age than the one in which they now lived. Guy’s study was a fairly large room, big enough for a desk, even though it was huge, and a couple of armed leather chairs as well as a sofa. The wood panelling completed the picture. This was a gentleman’s room.
“Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “I’m a bit apprehensive. I’m not quite sure how you’re going to take this.”
Her curiosity aroused, Honey did as she was asked and sat with her hand folded demurely in her lap, and waited.
“They went down well, didn’t they, the pastries?” Guy said and she thought he was prevaricating until he went on without waiting for an answer. “I can see there’s a lot of work involved and therefore a lot of time. Have you ever thought of going into business?”
“I am in business.”
“Another business.”
“Come on, Guy, you can see it’s all I can do keeping up with the commitments I have already.”
“I can but I can also see the possibilities here.”
“Possibilities?”
“You told me you have help at the Honey Bun in the busy season. What if you had help all the time?”
“I can’t afford it. Even now I’m doing my best to make ends meet.” She hated having to admit it but it was after all a fact.
“You’ll agree there’s nothing in Rills Ford that even approaches what you’ve brought here this afternoon.” It was a statement not a question. He plunged on in. “If we were to have dedicated premises could you produce these in quantity? Enough for the tearooms here and to supply other markets?”
Honey heard everything Guy said but there was one word she got particularly hung up on.
“We?”
“I’m willing to do the short term part. Find a suitable place or build one if necessary.”
She thought this typically high-handed of him but refrained from saying so, eager to hear what was coming next.
“I’ll fund it and you can tell me exactly what you need. Then,” he paused and smiled, “then I’ll leave it to you to do the hard work.”
“I don’t want to work for you, Guy.”
“Nobody’s asking you to. This will be an equal partnership. What do you say, Honey? Are you ready for a new adventure?”
Honey’s face was inscrutable but beneath the surface her emotions were in turmoil. She’d carried the burden for so long it had never occurred to her there might be a way to lighten the load, of responsibility at least if not of work – and she’d never been frightened of hard work. There was far too much to consider for her to give an answer immediately but Guy’s eyebrow had arched when he asked question and he was grinning now as he waited for her to take in what he’d said. She was about to hedge when the door burst open and Betty came rushing in.
“You’d better come quickly, Honey. It’s Daisy.”
Bittersweet Reunion
Honey was out of the study before Betty had time to finish the sentence. She rushed to her mother’s room only to find it empty and Betty, much slower behind her, calling out that Daisy was still in the sitting room. Racing back again she found Daisy still in the same chair but the change was considerable. One side of her face had dropped and her left arm was hanging uselessly. Her eyes were open but were not focussing and she seemed to be completely unaware of her surroundings. Honey dropped to her knees and took the limp hand in her own, looking first into her mother’s face and then at Betty with the question to which she already knew the answer.
“We’ve called for an ambulance. Ah, yes, I can hear it coming now.”
“A stroke?”
“I believe so, Honey.”
“Why didn’t you call me straight away?” It sounded like an accusation but Betty knew it was fear.
“I did, as soon as I’d made the call. You’ll go with her, in the ambulance?”
“Of course. Should I talk to her; try to make her understand?”
“Just hold her hand and speak gently. She may hear, she may take comfort, even if she doesn’t show it.”
Honey looked up at Guy, standing a little distance away, wishing he could do something to help. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way and helped Honey to her feet as the ambulance crew came in. He was still supporting her arm as they followed the wheelchair out to the waiting vehicle.
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“Yes, but I think it might be a bit crowded in there,” she said ruefully, pointing to where Daisy was being lifted gently into the ambulance. “Can I call you later, when I know more?”
“Of course; any time; day or night. Honey…” He paused before continuing. “You’re not alone.”
The tears came as she climbed up to sit beside her mother, to hold her hand, to utter words that she hoped would comfort. The doors closed and the paramedic handed her a tissue.
“It won’t be long. We’ll soon have her settled in hospital. It’s important to catch these things as early as possible but she’ll be in the best place in the best hands.”
The new few days Honey moved as if in a dream. Working on automatic she kept the shop open only at teatime. She was touched by the response of the community who rallied round, many offering to bake for her though in truth the only time she was able to relax was in the evenings after she came home from the hospital. Making cakes was such a part of her she could do it almost with her eyes closed. Customers flooded in during the afternoon, some she was only used to seeing intermittently, Mrs Worthington coming every day as usual. All wanted to help in wha
tever way they could and if that meant the intake of a few more calories so be it.
Honey spent her mornings and the early part of each evening sitting with her mother. There was little improvement but neither did she get any worse. Once Honey was convinced she could feel a slight pressure from the hand she was holding, that there was more understanding in her mother’s eyes, but these were fleeting impressions and though she reported them to the nurse she began to doubt herself when it didn’t happen again. Guy insisted on acting as her escort every time she went.
“I can’t ask you to be my chauffeur every day twice a day.”
“I don’t remember hearing you ask and it’s nice to feel useful. I’m in the habit of working and this indolence doesn’t suit me at all.”
She accepted gratefully. In fact things would have been considerably harder for her without his help. Four days after Daisy had the stroke Basil arrived with his family. Guy took Honey to the airport to collect them. Even the worry about her mother couldn’t take away her excitement at seeing her brother again, and meeting Lucy and Tom for the first time was like reacquainting herself with them. Thanks to Skype they were all familiar to each other but nothing could have taken the place of the real live hugs they all exchanged. It was an airport scene that is played at any airport every day all over the world, the coming together of family and friends. Tom flung himself at Guy like he was an old friend, which of course he was.
“How is she, Hon? Has there been any change?” Basil asked his sister.
“Minimal, I think, but I’m hoping now you’re here it will make a difference.”
“Can we go straight to the hospital?”
“Probably not a good idea, Bas, not after the journey you’ve just had.”
By this time Guy had extricated himself and Honey fell to her knees to meet her nephew on his own level.
“I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you, Tom. My goodness what a big boy you are.”
Honey Bun Page 6