A Home at Honeysuckle Farm

by Christie Barlow

  I sighed, ‘I’ve got nothing to say to him.’

  Just as I balanced the phone on the arm of the chair, it beeped again. Grace noticed my hands trembling. ‘I take it that’s not Ben again?’

  Shaking my head, I passed her the phone.

  ‘It’s Mum.’

  Grace read out the text: ‘That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll book a flight and be with you by the end of the week. Please sort me out a place to stay.’ Grace stared at me, her jaw dropped somewhere near the floor.

  ‘I’ve done it now, haven’t I?’

  ‘How do you feel?’ Grace asked tentatively.

  My head was spinning. ‘I really have no idea,’ I admitted, feeling my pulse throb in the side of my head, an outbreak of nerves making me shudder. ‘What do I do now?!’

  ‘We do nothing, we say nothing, we act surprised,’ she said with a half-smile.

  ‘What, like, “Ta-dah! Mum’s turned up out of the blue!”’ I waved jazz hands in the air.

  ‘Okay, maybe not with jazz hands, but we say nothing until we know what flight she’s on, and then we need to tell my mum.’

  ‘What do you think Connie will say?’

  Grace shrugged, ‘We’ll explain that you were desperate, you panicked when they took Ted into hospital.’

  ‘So, we just sit tight, until we know more?’

  ‘That’s exactly what we do; no point rocking the boat until Rose is actually here.’

  I nodded, struggling to take it all in.

  ‘Thanks, Grace, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  ‘You’ve certainly injected drama into my life,’ she grinned, ‘but who wants a boring life anyway?’

  Right at this second I’d give anything for a boring life. I’d never actually considered what I’d do if Mum agreed to come to England. It was safe to say she’d actually taken me by surprise. I’d no idea how any of this would play out, I’d just have to wait and see. But at least I was on the way to getting some answers.

  Chapter 27

  The following morning, after visiting the hospital, Grace and I let ourselves into the dance school armed with more cleaning products than they had on the shelves at the local supermarket.

  Tucking my hands into the front pockets of the apron I had borrowed from Grace, I looked around the room before scooping up my hair and securing it in a messy bun on the top of my head. ‘It won’t take long to spruce this place up,’ I said, my tone hopeful, pulling on a pair of pink Marigolds.

  ‘We need a plan. Firstly, let’s clean up the main dance room, the kitchen area, then the toilets,’ I suggested, taking control and flinging open the windows at the far end of the room. ‘That’s better, a bit of fresh air.

  ‘I’ve got some fantastic memories of this place,’ I reminisced, thinking of my Saturday mornings dancing my little heart out on this very floor.

  ‘And hopefully there will be many more to come,’ added Grace encouragingly. ‘In a couple of hours, we won’t recognise this place.’

  We jigged our way around the room, dusters and mops in hand, giggling away like a couple of teenagers. With buckets filled to the brim with warm water, we wiped the mirrors, brushed the stage, scrubbed the blinds and mopped the floor. And after two hours of gruelling cleaning, I pulled off my gloves and wiped my brow. The pair of us perched on the edge of the stage and admired our hard work. What a transformation! The whole place gleamed and a fresh floral aroma flooded the room.

  I’d had a fantastic couple of hours singing, dancing and cleaning alongside Grace, and for the first time I wasn’t dwelling on Mum at the back of my mind. I’d had some fun.

  ‘Wow, just wow!’ exclaimed Grace, meeting my gaze with a wide smile. ‘It looks as elegant as the ballroom at Blackpool Tower,’ she chirped.

  I couldn’t help but smile at her comparison. ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ I grinned, looking up at the newly polished glitter-ball that now sparkled with a new lease of life and shimmied coloured speckles of light around the room.

  Feeling proud, my eyes filled with tears. This little place had come alive and there was fire in my belly. I didn’t want to turn my back on the dance school. I wanted this to be the start of my new future. Somewhere I could call my own and be valued.

  ‘Drumroll,’ announced Grace. ‘I now declare Florrie’s School of Dance open and fit for purpose,’ she chuckled.

  I laughed at her outburst.

  There was still a long way to go. The carpet in the entrance hall needed a deep clean. The bathroom needed a little modernising and the walls could do with a fresh lick of paint, but at least now, it was clean, aired and dust free.

  ‘We’ve done well,’ admitted Grace, smiling towards me and patting my knee. ‘Even Darcie Bussell wouldn’t have any qualms about pirouetting on such a clean polished floor.’

  I’d lost count of the number of buckets of dirty water we’d emptied. I’d even apologised to the spiders as we sucked away the cobwebs from the corners of the rooms, but it had been worth it.

  ‘We need a toast, a small tipple to mark the occasion,’ suggested Grace.

  ‘Tipsy while in charge of the ladies of the WI?’ I chuckled, thinking the task ahead of me this evening was maybe already challenging enough.

  ‘What time are they arriving?’

  ‘Just after 7 p.m., and I have to admit I’m a little nervous.’

  ‘Are you going to tell them about Sam’s involvement?’

  ‘I am, I’m going to be up front from the start. I’ve got nothing to hide and if they don’t like it … well, this place is important to me, the past is the past and that’s where it needs to stay. This business needs to get off on the right foot … no pun intended,’ I said with determination.

  ‘I think it’s the way forward.’

  I swallowed back an emotional lump in my throat. I was going to put my all into resurrecting this dance school and staying in England. Living in New York was becoming more of a distant memory every day.

  Chapter 28

  Just after tea-time the sky began to darken and in no time at all the heavens opened. I ran towards the dance school, clutching my bag while holding on to the hood of my coat and striding over the puddles, trying to keep the drenching to a minimum.

  As I thrust the key into the lock there was a flash of lightning across the dense black clouds, followed by a boom of thunder. Once inside the safe haven of the foyer, I peeled off the sodden coat from my back and draped it over the coat-stand behind the reception desk and switched on the lights. I wasn’t sure whether the WI ladies would venture out in such torrential rain, but at that very second, the door swung open and a gang of excitable wet pensioners tripped inside.

  ‘What an evening!’ exclaimed Dorothy, untying a plastic head scarf that was attempting to keep her hair dry. ‘I’ve only had my hair done this afternoon and now look at it!’

  ‘It looks perfect, not a hair out of place,’ I said, holding the shoulders of her coat while she slipped her arms out.

  Just at that second, we were silenced by a strip of lightning that tore across the sky, making the lights flicker.

  ‘Ladies, ladies …’ Dorothy attempted to bring some order to their gasps, ‘we weren’t going to let the weather dampen our spirits.’

  Everyone hushed.

  Dorothy carried on, ‘Let me introduce you to Alice, Alice Parker … Ted and Florrie’s granddaughter, who has thankfully saved the day for us with her bright idea.’

  Everyone began to smile and say thank you, then they broke into a delighted applause, taking me completely by surprise but boosting my confidence.

  ‘No need for that,’ I smiled. ‘Honestly, anyone would do the same and it’s lovely to meet you all. There is tea and coffee in the kitchen, if you want to go through and grab a cup before we start?’

  With affirmative nods, they made their way towards the kitchen. ‘Dorothy, can I have a word?’ I asked, feeling nervous, knowing what I was about to say next.

  Dorothy hung back. ‘Is e
verything okay, dear?’ she asked.

  ‘I hope so Dorothy, I really do.’

  ‘Is it your grandfather?’ Her voice quivered.

  ‘Grandie is back in hospital but stable.’

  Dorothy gasped, ‘Oh you poor thing, all this worry.’

  ‘It is a worry, but that’s not what I need to speak to you about.’

  She took hold of my hands. ‘What is it? I’m here to help with anything.’

  Knowing the friendship bond that had tied Dorothy to Grandma and feeling anxious, I took a deep breath: ‘I’m coming home, I’m re-opening this place.’

  The smile spread across Dorothy’s face. ‘Bert did mention it, but hearing those words from you … Your grandma would be so proud of you. And what about Rose, is she coming home too?’

  ‘I don’t know but I’ve got to do what’s right for me, that’s why I need to speak to you.’

  ‘I’m listening.’ Dorothy’s eyes were wide and I had her full attention.

  ‘I’m not sure of the reason why we ever left for New York but all I know is, if I’m coming home I need to look to the future.’

  ‘Of course you do, onwards and upwards …’

  ‘But,’ I interrupted Dorothy while I was in full flow, ‘But that means leaving all the feuds behind, all the bad feeling, moving on.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s Village Day, Dorothy.’

  ‘You aren’t backing out on us, are you? We’re all so excited and …’ Her voice was shaky.

  ‘No, I’m not backing out Dorothy,’ I interrupted, ‘but I need to be honest with you. I’ve asked Sam to help me.’

  ‘Sam?’ Dorothy hesitated.

  ‘Sam Reid,’ I said slowly.

  Dorothy exhaled and paled instantly.

  ‘What happened to Grandma had nothing to do with Sam and, as much as I respect both you and Bert, I don’t hold a grudge, and isn’t it about time everyone let go of the past?’

  Dorothy remained silent.

  ‘This place …’ I looked around, ‘meant the world to Grandie and I’m going to put my all into it, but everyone will be welcome. Village Day is about bringing the community together, and that’s why I think you should give Sam a chance. He’s his own person … and he knows some fantastic handsome male dancers that will swoop these ladies off their feet. There’s a bigger picture here, can we just let bygones be bygones?’

  I could see Dorothy was turning it over in her mind, then taking me surprise, the tears rolled down her cheeks. Quickly I passed her a tissue. ‘I know you’re right, Alice, love. We just miss Florrie.’

  ‘I know you do, but you’re directing your anger towards the wrong person.’

  She nodded, and dabbed her eyes.

  Feeling relieved the conversation was over, I said, ‘Are you ready to join the others? They’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.’

  She touched my arm affectionately. ‘You are a good girl, Alice. Come on, let’s get this show on the road.’

  All the ladies had now moved into the main dance hall, and were settled in the chairs that were laid out at the far end of the room. ‘We can’t thank you enough for helping us,’ said Elsie, giving me a quick introduction to everyone.

  ‘Look at this place,’ revelled Stella, the chair of the WI. ‘It’s been years since we’ve been in here. It’s not changed a bit.’

  ‘You are all more than welcome, but there’s a lot of hard work to be done and over the next couple of weeks you all need to practise, practise, practise.’ I’d raised my tone a little to gain all of their attention.

  Six eager heads nodded back at me.

  ‘Shall I talk you through the plan?’

  ‘Yes please,’ came all their enthusiastic voices in unison.

  I perched on the edge of the stage. ‘Stella …’ She was a tall, slim, elegant woman with a blonde bob that bounced on top of her shoulders. She wouldn’t have looked out of place at a make-up counter in the local department store. Even her painted nails matched the colour of her lips, not to mention her shoes. ‘You are going to be dancing the waltz.’

  She clapped her hands excitedly while the rest of the ladies gave each other an approving nod.

  ‘Next, we’ll have Elsie, dancing the quick step, followed by Freda with the tango, Ida with the Charleston, Mabel with the Paso Doble and Dorothy …’ I glanced towards her, knowing already she would be opening the show with Bert, ‘you will be dancing the foxtrot.’

  She gasped, ‘My favourite dance of all time, thank you.’

  ‘We can decide what order we’ll be dancing in nearer the time, once we’ve mastered the steps. Is everyone happy so far?’

  There was a consensus gabble of approval.

  ‘On the day, there will be a panel of judges, but don’t worry – we will all be giving very kind comments and scores,’ I gave them a reassuring smile.

  ‘But who will we dance with?’ asked Ida, turning and facing the rest of the women, followed by an undercurrent of mutterings. ‘I’m not sure my Alfred will be up to it.’

  My heart raced as all eyes were on me. ‘My friend Sam Reid, who has just starred in Mamma Mia, will be helping us out on that front.’

  All the women looked between themselves then turned towards Dorothy, who nodded approvingly.

  ‘You won’t be disappointed. Young handsome men twirling you around the stage, what more can you ask for?’ I kept my voice full of enthusiasm and continued:

  ‘I’ve downloaded each dance on to my iPad, which we can watch together now, then let’s decide on a colour scheme for each of your dresses, and I think it’s best if I arrange one-on-one time with each of you to put you through your paces over the next couple of days. Are we happy with that?’

  Everyone was in agreement and for the next twenty minutes we all huddled around the screen watching the dancing.

  ‘Beautiful,’ murmured Stella, mesmerised by the waltz. ‘Just beautiful.’

  ‘He’s very bendy,’ chuckled Freda, twisting her head upside down and taking a better look. ‘I’m not sure I can bend like that anymore but I remember a time with Fred the milkman, we got carried away on his early-morning …’

  ‘Whoa! Stop there,’ interrupted Mabel. ‘Let’s not corrupt this young innocent girl in front of us.’

  Everyone chuckled.

  ‘Look at those lifts. We need those strapping young men to lift us like that.’ Elsie’s gaze flicked towards me.

  ‘I think we’ll be keeping lifts to a minimum, I don’t want anyone ending up in A&E.’

  After we’d finished swooning over the stunning footage of the elegant dancing we turned our attentions to the colour scheme. Making a note in my notebook of who was wearing what colour and various measurements, I’d pass on all the details in the morning to Connie who was going to trawl the local charity shops for anything suitable with glitz and glamour. Individual times were arranged for each of them to have one-to-one tuition with me over the next couple of days, and when everyone else had gone home Dorothy stayed behind to go over her steps with me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ were the first words out of Dorothy’s mouth once everyone had left the building.

  ‘For what?’ I asked, stacking the chairs away.

  ‘If I made you feel uncomfortable,’ Dorothy sounded sincere.

  ‘You haven’t … really. But I’ve learnt that harbouring feuds is draining and time-consuming – life’s too short.’

  ‘And I’m not sure how much life I have left,’ Dorothy gave a small chuckle. ‘You’ll make a success of this place, I know you will.’

  ‘I hope so,’ I replied, knowing I’d enjoyed every second of this evening with the ladies. I knew I was going to pour my heart and soul into it.

  ‘Right, let’s go over your steps. We’ll begin right at the very beginning.’ I tapped my heels on the wooden floor and Dorothy mirrored my steps.

  ‘I feel like a fish out of water,’ she exclaimed, concentrating hard on my footwork. ‘It’s been years since I
’ve danced.’

  ‘It won’t take long to learn these steps, it’s like riding a bike.’

  ‘I’ve not done that for years either,’ she chuckled.

  ‘It will all come back to you,’ I reassured her, slowly talking her through the steps once more.

  ‘With it being our golden wedding anniversary, I’ve asked Bert to dance with me, but it’s his hips, it would be too much for him,’ she said sagely. ‘But hopefully it will be a treat for him to watch me dance on the stage wearing something all glitzy and glamourous.’

  I bit my lip and said nothing. I couldn’t wait to see Dorothy’s reaction when Bert whisked her off her feet, around that stage. It would be the grandest opening to the show.

  Dorothy puffed out her cheeks. ‘I’m not as fit as I used to be,’ she said, starting again from the beginning with her right foot. ‘In my head, I’m still only twenty.’

  I smiled, ‘You are doing fantastic.’

  ‘I knew the second I hit middle age, everything changed. There were no more drinking sessions at the pub or days at the races, it all became blended healthy juice meals that tasted bland, and yoga.’ She rolled her eyes, ‘And now what have I got going for me?’

  ‘Fifty years of marriage, and you own the best teashop in the land.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t change that for the world,’ she patted my hand affectionately.

  After those words of encouragement, Dorothy danced her socks off for the next twenty minutes before thanking me for my time and heading home with a smile on her face to her beloved Bert. She’d grasped the basic steps and I’d given her pointers to focus on over the next few days until we met again. The evening had been a success and Village Day was well and truly back on track. The ladies were full of vim, vigour and determination. It gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling to see their energy and enthusiasm, knowing I’d played a part in it all.

  Thinking I was all alone, I was startled by a voice that echoed through the foyer: ‘Knock, knock, anyone there?’

  ‘Sam?’ I called out, my heart giving a little leap when I recognised his voice. ‘I’m in here.’ I’d had every intention of texting him once I’d arrived back home.