For a split second, I stared out of the window, expressionless, then waved at Connie before plastering a smile on my face. Grace handed me my bag and pressed a kiss hastily to my cheek and ushered me towards the door.
My stomach flipped, and my legs were trembling as I walked towards the car. I looked back over my shoulder, trying to smile bravely. We exchanged looks then Grace gave me a thumbs-up.
Nervously, I climbed into the passenger seat of Connie’s car and took a breath.
‘Ready?’ asked Connie. The car engine was running and her hand rested on the gear stick.
‘Ready,’ I swallowed, painting a smile on my face and really not knowing what to expect.
This was it, I was on my way to see my grandfather for the first time in thirteen years. After Grace’s reassurance, my spirits lifted a little, but I knew in my heart I had to do this, despite his fall-out with Mum. And I desperately wanted to see him again.
We spent most of the car journey in a companionable silence, Connie leaving me to my own thoughts. She concentrated on the road ahead while I gazed out of the window, watching the pretty houses whizz by with their colourful hanging baskets and freshly cut, striped lawns. On the edge of the village ran Brook Bridge stream, a popular spot with dog walkers.
Once we drove past the church, we were out of the village and my mind kept flipping back to the argument I’d witnessed as a small child between Grandie and Mum. My heart still banged against my ribcage at the thought of the drama I’d witnessed. What on earth had happened that day?
Both of their tempers had flared like I’d never seen before, their unkind words firmly planted in my mind. Seeing the two people that I loved most in the world arguing so vigorously had been painful enough, but the most awful thing was that argument had changed my life forever. If the truth be told, the more I thought about it, the more I resented it. I’d lost my home, my friends, my Grandie and my life at Brook Bridge. Why hadn’t the row just blown over? Why had Mum allowed it to change my life so fundamentally and catapult us to the other side of the world? I wondered if Grandie would be willing to talk about it now. Would I finally discover what it was they were rowing about that day?
I tried to dismiss all thoughts of the past and blinked away the memory. Today was about building a new relationship with my grandfather, one that I’d missed dreadfully. Hopefully we could start to look towards the future, not the past.
I felt the corners of my mouth lift just thinking about Honeysuckle Farm, a magical place that gave me comfort and joy – a stable family home that even now made me feel truly blessed to have such wonderful childhood memories. I’d no idea why Mum would ever want to leave this idyllic countryside and live on the other side of the world, surrounded by the bright but anonymous lights of the city, its vista dominated by skyscrapers, when we’d lived in the most beautiful place.
It didn’t take long to drive to the small cottage hospital and once Connie had parked the car we walked towards the entrance, past the ambulances that were lined up outside.
Once inside, I could feel myself beginning to tremble.
Bright smile, Alice.
‘I’ll take you up to Ted’s room and then I’ll sit in there,’ Connie nodded, towards the small café area situated on the ground floor. ‘I’ll grab myself a coffee and I’ve brought a book to read, so you take all the time you need, there’s no rush.’
‘Thank you,’ was all I could muster, holding on to my tears.
We followed the gleaming white floor and the polystyrene-tiled ceiling towards the second floor.
‘Okay, there’s his room.’ Connie stood still and tipped her head towards the door in front of us before swiftly kissing my cheek. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered and without saying another word she turned to go.
‘Connie,’ I swallowed down a lump in my throat and immediately she spun back round towards me. ‘What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he rejects me?’
Connie quickly stepped forward, giving me a warm smile, then held both my hands. ‘Don’t be so tough on yourself, your grandfather loves you, that’ll never change. Now go and make his day.’
Her kind words caused a gush of tears to spring to my eyes, as I tried to compose myself standing there, watching her disappear along the corridor then out of sight.
For a split second, I hovered outside the door of Grandie’s private room. Nervous didn’t even come close, as a huge dollop of fear descended over me. I was relieved he wasn’t on a ward surrounded by other people because I had no idea how this reunion was going to be. Would he reject me in anger, or welcome me back with open arms? Either way, it was going to be emotional. I was filled with excitement and fear, and there was only one way to ease that grinding knot in my stomach. I exhaled, and with my heart in my mouth I slowly pushed open the door, my hands unhelpfully shaking.
The sun shone through the cracks in the blinds, painting narrow, vertical bands of light on the magnolia walls. With a hundred fireflies fluttering around my stomach, my eyes darted towards the bed.
There he was.
Grandie was lying underneath a white cotton sheet with a blue blanket over the top, pulled up under his chin. His eyes were closed, and I tiptoed towards the blue plastic seat – the kind you find in every school, village hall and hospital – on the other side of the room. His hair was wispy grey, his cheeks hollow and pale. He looked so frail, thinner than I remembered, and wires protruded from a gap in his pyjamas and hooked up to the monitor at the side of the bed which bleeped every few seconds.
Gripped by emotion, I tried to keep hold of my tears, but it was in vain and they rolled down my cheeks as I quickly brushed them away. I’d missed him so much and my heart filled with love for him and regret for all the years that had been lost and couldn’t be replaced. I’d never felt as helpless as I did in this moment.
I quietly pulled up the chair and sat by the side of his bed, not wanting to wake him, he looked so peaceful lying there. I tightened the band of my ponytail then folded my arms and held my breath. Would he even recognise me when he woke up?
In the peace and quiet of the warm hospital room, I suddenly felt tired. I’d managed to sleep a little last night but not until I’d tossed and turned until 3 a.m., desperate to drift off. No doubt the jetlag had prevented me from falling asleep until close to my usual New York bedtime. I stretched out my legs in front of me and could feel my head beginning to droop as my eyelids closed together.
The next thing I knew, I heard a cough and began to stir. I must have nodded off altogether. Opening my eyes, it took me a second to realise where I was. A quick glance at my watch told me I’d been dozing for twenty minutes or so. Then, looking over towards Grandie, I met his inquisitive stare. A weird tension simmered under the surface while he battled to focus. I shifted self-consciously in my seat and for a second no one spoke.
He sat up straighter and reached towards the bedside cabinet, grasping at a pair of glasses which he slowly balanced on the bridge of his nose without taking his eyes off me. He didn’t say anything, just blinked and stared.
‘Hi, Grandie,’ I said softly.
‘Alice … Alice, is that you?’ Grandie murmured with an element of surprise in his voice, raising his bushy eyebrows. His voice sounded just as I remembered it.
I let out a long breath, ‘Yes Grandie, it’s me.’ I leant forward and held both his hands gently.
He gasped and his mouth fell open, then the corners of his mouth began to lift.
A wave of emotion caused me to blink back the tears.
‘Look at you, look at you, and that accent!’ He cupped his hands around mine and took a breath. ‘You gave me a shock, you did, a good shock.’ He quickly added, ‘All grown up and beautiful … beautiful. I never thought …’ His voice trailed off and he removed his glasses and dabbed his watery eyes on the sleeve of his PJs.
‘How are you, Grandie, how are you feeling?’
‘Grandie … Grandie,’ he repeated, ‘I never thought I’d hear you say tha
t word ever again. I can’t believe you are here. You’ve made an old man very happy.’
He gave me such a big smile that I couldn’t stop smiling too. ‘You don’t know how pleased I am to hear that.’ The relief that he hadn’t rejected me swept through my body.
‘I feel like a silly old fool and useless lying here. Fancy falling over,’ he smiled. ‘It’s just bruises and a bump, nothing to worry about.’ He touched the bandage on his head. ‘It looks worse than it is.’
‘What’s the machine for?’
‘Monitoring my heart rate, I think. Thankfully it’s still beeping which means I’m alive,’ he gave a small chuckle.
I patted his arm soothingly, ‘That’s good to hear!’
‘How long have you been here?’ he asked, pushing himself up in bed and reaching for the glass on the bedside cabinet.
‘Here, let me pour you some fresh water,’ I offered.
‘I’d prefer something a little stronger.’
‘I’ll remember for next time,’ I grinned, taking the glass from him and rinsing it out at the small basin in the corner of the room before filling it back up from the jug of water that was by the side of his bed. ‘I arrived back in England yesterday.’
‘I’d no idea you were even coming, not that I’m complaining. Where are you staying? How long for?’
I handed him the glass, ‘With Grace. And Connie picked me up from the airport. It was good to see them both again. They’ve made me feel very welcome, like I’ve never been away. It’s been too long.’
He nodded. ‘They are worth their weight in gold. I can’t believe they’d keep this a secret from me.’
‘They are,’ I admitted, thankful they’d looked out for him all these years.
‘Tell me … about you … What do you do?’ his eyebrows waggled with intrigue. ‘I want to hear all about my Alice.’
The past thirteen years whirled in my mind, and in particular the last few of those years. I was battling my own conscience, it was so hard to know what to say next. If I told Grandie the truth about my life right now, he’d only worry, and I didn’t want him fretting about me while he wasn’t in the best state of health. But I didn’t want to lie either. I felt guilty enough misleading Grace. I knew I had to put that right, and I would, this evening.
‘Please tell me you’re still dancing?’ Grandie looked hopeful.
I swerved the question: ‘I studied performing arts in New York and I graduated with flying colours,’ which wasn’t a lie.
‘I’m so proud of you Alice, more than you’ll ever know,’ he thumped his chest and his heart monitor beeped loudly.
My hand flew to my own chest and my eyes swung towards the monitor, struggling to catch my breath. ‘Gr-Grandie,’ I stammered, my eyes as wide as saucers, panicking that something was wrong.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ he glanced briefly back towards the machine as the bleeping began to behave itself once more. ‘It’s only me setting it off.’
‘Grandie, don’t do that!’ I’d jumped out of my skin as the beeping increased tenfold.
‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that …’ he smiled. ‘I’m still here.’
He began to chuckle and I couldn’t help feeling grateful for his sense of humour.
‘I knew the minute you were born, you were a performer, it was in here’ – this time he placed his hand lightly on his chest. ‘I’m a dancer, you’re a dancer, it’s in our genes and there’s no changing that. I’m glad you carried on down that path. New York, you say … a world away from Brook Bridge village, but ample opportunity, I suppose, to make a decent life for yourself.’
He wasn’t wrong, the two places couldn’t be any more different.
‘Didn’t you know that’s where we were going?’
He shook his head, and the pain in his eyes was clearly noticeable. ‘At first, I’d no idea,’ he said, letting out a long breath.
Just hearing the sadness in Grandie’s voice smashed my heart into a million pieces.
‘It was only when Grace received your first letter that Connie told me where you were. We couldn’t believe it … New York!’ He struggled to catch his breath. ‘Before then I’d no way of finding you or contacting you. Believe me, I wrote to you many times. I asked Connie for the address – you see, it was on Grace’s letter – but I never posted them … I didn’t know if they’d be passed on.’
‘It’s okay, let’s not dwell on that. I’m here now,’ I reassured him, patting his hand.
‘Very true,’ he smiled.
‘And I’m going nowhere.’
‘I just wish … those lost years.’
‘I know Grandie, don’t get upset,’ I soothed.
He nodded. ‘I’m glad you kept up with the singing and dancing.’
This was my cue to tell him that my career wasn’t all that great, but looking at him lying there, it could wait – for now.
‘Me too, I used to have the best teacher,’ I beamed, remembering back to all the times he’d be at the side of the stage encouraging me during classes, and every evening he made me grab hold of the bannister in the hallway of the farmhouse and took me through all my ballet positions.
We stared at each other for a split second with such warmth.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, desperately struggling to keep my voice under control.
‘What have you got to be sorry for?’
I touched his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘For leaving. I didn’t want to leave you. I’ve missed you so much.’ It was too late, my voice cracked. I was feeling so overwhelmed.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ he said, handing me a tissue from his pyjama pocket. ‘It’s clean,’ he added quickly with a smile.
‘Thank you,’ I said, dabbing my eyes.
‘You do know this wasn’t your fault?’ His gaze met mine.
‘I have no idea what happened or why we ended up in New York,’ I said, desperately trying to make sense of it all.
‘Look,’ he swallowed, ‘what happened, happened and we can’t change that. I’m just grateful you are here now, that’s all that matters to me. You came back to me.’
‘I sure did.’
We stared at each for a moment, taking in the sight of each other, then suddenly a question began to burn inside me. Before I could stop myself, the words slipped past my lips: ‘Aren’t you going to ask how Mum is?’ I asked cautiously.
Momentarily, his gaze flickered towards the window. ‘Alice,’ his voice was pained and I could see he’d no intention of entering into this conversation now or any time soon.
‘She’s okay,’ I added.
He nodded his acknowledgement. An awkward silence hung in the air.
‘Are you going to tell me what happened all those years back? Mum’s never spoken about it, you know.’
His wounded eyes locked with mine. ‘Not now, Alice.’
I nodded my understanding. His mood had slumped and I was keen to see the smile return to his face, even though I was desperate to push further. I didn’t want to cause him any more pain.
Luckily for the pair of us, the slight tension was lifted by the timely arrival of the nurse to check his machine readings. Once she was satisfied with the various numbers, she noted them down on the chart attached to the bottom of his bed and smiled at us both before leaving the room. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I said.
‘You didn’t, but I’ve got something to run by you.’ His voice was low.
‘That sounds worrying.’ I perched on the edge of my seat in anticipation.
‘Not worrying,’ he reassured me, ‘but …’ He took a breath. ‘There’s something I’ve been waiting to ask you for a very long time.’
‘Okay,’ I answered, wondering what it could be.
‘Are you happy in New York, Alice?’
This question took me completely by surprise and I hesitated. Was this the time to come clean and admit how bad my life in New York really was? To tell him my living conditions were appalling and finally adm
it to someone that the only job I was fit for was working as a cleaner in the theatre, not as the star of the show.
I blew out a breath, my shoulders sagged and my head was swimming. What could I say?
‘Call it intuition, even after all this time, but you’re not sitting here telling me how fantastic it all is. I see your smile, but your eyes look sad.’ His own smile had now been hijacked and his expression was one of concern. ‘Talk to me.’
He still had the measure of me after all this time.
‘You’re right, it’s not going great, but it’s a long story,’ I said, relieved I wasn’t going to cover up my life and pretend it was all hunky-dory, like I’d done so far with Grace.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’ His voice was soft and his eyes urged me to start talking to him.
Feeling my lip wobble, I took a very deep breath. ‘Grandie, it’s not all that great.’ For the next ten minutes I bared all and left no stone unturned. It wasn’t easy telling him how unhappy I was, living in New York. A part of me felt disloyal towards Mum. But he listened intently as I wearily told him how I’d never fitted in, and struggled to land a decent job to pay the rent on my dingy flat and stay afloat. When it came down to it, living in the city didn’t make me happy, everything was too fast-paced, and for the short time I’d been back in the countryside I’d felt more at home than I’d felt in the last thirteen years.
By the end of the conversation we were both brushing away a flurry of tears.
‘I’m so sorry Alice, you deserve the best.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ my voice was barely a whisper. ‘It’s just been difficult the last few years.’
‘There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. It doesn’t change who you are as a person, and what I see in front of me is a kind, beautiful young lady who hasn’t quite found what she is destined for, but you will … I promise you that.’
Telling him how I was feeling had lifted the weight off my shoulders. It had been difficult to talk to Mum about it because sometimes I felt if I told her about my unhappiness, it would be a kick in the teeth for her. She would blame herself and there was no disputing she’d always done her best for me and loved me with all her heart.
A Home at Honeysuckle Farm Page 8