A Home at Honeysuckle Farm: A gorgeous and heartwarming summer read. Christie Barlow

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A Home at Honeysuckle Farm: A gorgeous and heartwarming summer read - Christie  Barlow

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the luxury of a flowerbox hanging from my front window. Where I lived was completely dull and colourless.

      ‘Look at those roses … simply stunning.’ I leant forward and inhaled the rich scent from the prized flowers that danced in the light breeze.

      ‘I worked hard on this little piece of paradise when we bought this place and never in a million years thought I’d end up living on my own here after such a short time,’ Grace said, fishing the keys out of her bag. ‘It was difficult at first, but I’ve made it just the way I want it. It’s my home and I love it.’ She pushed open the door and we followed her into the small hallway.

      ‘Meet Harry.’ Grace knelt down and scooped up a long-haired black-and-white cat. ‘He’s the only reliable man in my life and that’s the way it’s staying – well, for now, anyway,’ she grinned, handing me the cute bundle of fluff who immediately purred and butted his head gently against my face.

      ‘He’s adorable,’ I exclaimed.

      ‘Let me take your suitcase and show you up to your room. Follow me,’ Grace insisted, hanging her coat on a peg and climbing the stairs while Connie disappeared down the hallway.

      ‘There’s a bathroom in there and that’s my room,’ she nodded towards the door at the far end of the landing. ‘You’re in here,’ she said, pushing open the door with her foot while dragging the case behind her. I put Harry down on the floor and he immediately jumped up on to the bed and gently padded the duvet with his paws. I took in my surroundings.

      ‘Look at this place, very shabby chic.’ On the bedside table there was a lamp and a small vase of colourful flowers. The antique rose bouquet bedding looked so inviting on the single bed and lengths of triangular floral bunting featured strongly, as did the twinkling of fairy lights draped across the light-pink pastel walls, giving the room a very homely feel. There was a single wardrobe, a dressing table and a pink stripy rug that lay on the exposed wooden floor and an idyllic view out of the bedroom window. ‘Now this is what you call a room with a view,’ I said in utter amazement, staring out on to the fields beyond. Again, so different from the view I was used to back in New York.

      ‘It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?’ Grace stood by the side of me and looked out of the window. ‘Eventually, this room was going to be a nursery, but how things change in such a short space of time!’ She spoke with a twinge of sadness to her voice.

      ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I admitted, thinking of how happy Grace had seemed when she’d announced the news that they’d finally got the keys to this place.

      ‘What can you say? Finn wasn’t the person I thought he was. Within hours of finding out he’d been having an affair, I stripped the house of all his belongings and changed the locks. You’d never have known he’d ever lived here. He moved straight in with her and signed the house over to me.’

      ‘Guilt?’

      Grace nodded, ‘Probably. At times, the mortgage is a struggle with the type of work I’m in. Things can get a bit tight, but I’ve had a good run with Mamma Mia and managed to save enough for the next couple of months, in case I find it difficult to get work.’

      ‘Have you got anything else lined up?’ I asked, lifting my case on to the bed. I thought back to my own dreary flat in New York, so unlike the soft comfort of Grace’s home. I could cope with Grace’s kind of tight, if this is what I had to come home to every day … a beautiful cottage with spectacular views and no drum and bass pounding above my head into the early hours. This was heaven, pure heaven.

      ‘There’s a few auditions coming up which my agent has put me forward for, so fingers crossed, but you need to tell me what you’ve been up to. After graduating from performing arts … well done you, by the way … your lack of status updates must mean you’re extremely busy.’

      ‘Yes, very busy,’ I answered. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I’d thought about what I was going to say. I didn’t want to stand there and admit I was a failure or share with Grace that I was living in a run-down flat, struggling to pay my bills with barely any money to my name. What would she think?

      ‘Yes, in fact …’ again I wasn’t thinking, ‘I’m just waiting to hear about an audition … a huge show opening on Broadway.’

      Inside I was screaming to myself, Alice, what are you doing? Just tell the truth! I couldn’t believe I’d lied to Grace. I felt so underhanded, but she’d assumed I had it all, and I couldn’t face admitting to her that the truth was so very different.

      Grace was successful, living the dream, and I wasn’t. I didn’t want the focus of conversation to be on me – I’d only just arrived. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about how it had all gone wrong for the girl in New York City. The reason I didn’t post regular updates on Facebook wasn’t because I was too busy. It was more down to the fact that I didn’t have anything to say. Surely, there was no harm in telling a tiny white lie.

      ‘How exciting! I knew you’d make it big and in New York too. You had that raw talent … anyone could see that, even at an early age. I tell all my friends about you … my friend is a star in New York! Everyone is jealous … I can only dream about being that successful.’

      How dreadful did I suddenly feel, misleading Grace like that? I needed to put her right straight away … but I didn’t. I swallowed, opened my mouth, but no words came out. I hadn’t meant to give her the impression I was something special, I was far from special, but for the first time in a long time, it was heart-warming to think someone actually thought I could be successful and capable of achieving my dreams too. That part gave me hope and boosted my confidence a little. So I wasn’t quite ready to spout out how difficult things were back in NYC. Did anyone really need to know?

      My heart squeezed with guilt for giving Grace the wrong impression, and giving myself a small shake, I managed a slight smile.

      ‘At least you can recharge your batteries while you’re here on holiday,’ said Grace.

      The word ‘holiday’ echoed in my head. Usually a holiday was a short period of time away from your work and then you returned home, but already, within a couple of hours, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time, away from the bright lights of the city. Brook Bridge village was already drawing me in and I hadn’t even seen Grandie yet.

      ‘What are you pair doing up there?’ Connie shouted up the stairs. ‘The food’s ready.’

      Grateful for the change of focus and thankful this conversation was over for the time being, I gave a small sigh of relief.

      ‘Coming,’ Grace shouted. ‘Are you okay with Harry sleeping on your bed?’ He was now curled up in a tight ball and fast asleep at the foot of the bed.

      I smiled at him, ‘He’s absolutely fine there, I don’t mind at all.’

      Animals had been a huge part of my life when I lived in England and I missed the unconditional love they provided. I can remember feeling disappointed when I signed the lease for my flat back in New York, and the very last clause stated no pets were allowed, not even a goldfish.

      ‘Can I quickly use the bathroom to freshen up?’ I asked, taking the washbag out of my case and pulling a brush through my hair.

      ‘Of course, there’s a bundle of fresh towels in there. Help yourself to anything, treat the place like it’s your own.’

      Five

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