Christie Barlow - Love Heart Lane

Felicity shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ‘I wouldn’t ask … but…’

‘The implication … leaving us in the lurch.’ Eleanor was a trifle short. ‘What’s so important you need time off at such short notice?’

Felicity swallowed the lump in her throat and hoped the tears wouldn’t cascade down her face. ‘My grandmother has passed away and I need to go home, to my family.’

As conversation stoppers go, this one threw Eleanor for a second.

‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important and I have enough annual leave for two weeks,’ added Felicity quickly.

‘I’m sorry to hear your sad news,’ Eleanor finally offered, keeping her gaze fixed on Felicity. There was a veil of politeness, covering up disappointment at the loss of potential drama.

‘Thank you,’ replied Felicity.

‘Where is home?’ That was the first personal question Eleanor had ever asked Felicity.

‘The Scottish Highlands,’ replied Felicity taken aback. ‘A little village called Heartcross.’

Eleanor sighed and made a vague despairing gesture with her hand. ‘If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call and we will see you back here two weeks on Monday.’ There was nothing in Eleanor’s tone that offered any real compassion; her face was expressionless. Felicity watched Eleanor stand up, a clear indication this conversation was over and that this was her cue to leave.

Felicity forced her lips into a smile and couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. She grabbed her coat from her locker and paused only briefly on the steps outside the department store. The sign illuminating ‘Little Browns,’ had once held a special place in her heart. A family-run business that had cared, this store had given her a chance and provided her with an opportunity. She’d worked here for nearly the last eight years after arriving in London on a whim, ready for a change from village life. She’d had grand ideas of seeking her fortune, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, looking for adventure. But things hadn’t been easy. She’d left Heartcross under a cloud and had spent much of her time in London trying to block out the past, especially Fergus. But it was always there. He was always there in the back of her mind.

Recently, when things had changed at work and Eleanor Ramsbottom had arrived on the scene, the days had become even less enjoyable and now Felicity was questioning what she was actually doing here. She found herself thinking about home more and more, and how she’d distanced herself from that life. She came to realise that she missed Heartcross, the good friends she’d left behind and of course, her mum and her gran.

Feeling glum and seriously hankering after a gin and tonic, she turned and weaved in and out of the masses of people who were powering up the busy high street towards the tube station. Felicity dug her hands deep in the pockets of her coat and fought back the tears of sadness as a pang of guilt hit her hard. As she jumped onto the packed tube and headed towards her flat, thoughts of Heartcross were still very much on her mind; memories of the small bustling village in the Scottish Highlands where she’d grown up, the place she had wanted to escape from, suddenly enveloped her and gave her an overwhelming feeling of comfort and belonging.

In the last eight years Felicity had been home on numerous occasions, but they were always fleeting visits with excuses that she couldn’t take time off work. And that’s exactly what they were – excuses. She knew the real reason why she couldn’t spend time there, but now she felt things were changing.

Felicity had fallen out of love with her job and her man, if she’d ever been in love with him at all, and even though she had friends in London, she didn’t have friends like the ones she’d had in Heartcross … solid friends that would have your back, look out for you no matter what.

Why hadn’t she gone home for Christmas? As the tube rumbled on, the conversation with her mum played on Felicity’s mind.

‘Please come home soon, your grandmother’s health is deteriorating, she misses you Flick, and I do too.’

‘Mum, I live in London, it’s difficult to get time off. Do you know how far away Scotland is?’

It was five hundred and eighty-six miles to be precise and ten hours in the car, not including toilet stops. In the last few weeks the weather had been unpredictable, planes and trains had been cancelled due to severe weather conditions and more snow was predicted soon.

But her mother’s words played on her mind now. ‘Your grandmother won’t be around forever, Felicity.’ And, of course, her mother, Rona Simons, had been right. Bonnie Stewart had passed away at the age of eighty a little over a week later.

Felicity held on tightly to the aluminium pole in the tube carriage and watched the stations whizz by. This journey was never one she relished, especially during rush hour on a Friday when the tube was packed to the rafters with everyone jostling for their own little space. Life had seemed so exciting when she’d first arrived in the big smoke, but now she was tired of the busy pace of life.

Finally, Felicity jumped off the tube at Leicester Square and pushed her way in the direction of one of the side streets towards The Chatty Banker pub. She pushed open the outer door and saw her friend Polly behind the bar, thoroughly at home with all the regulars. She was leaning against the pump, all her usual confidence on display.

‘Felicity! I didn’t expect to see you tonight.’ Polly glanced sideways and beamed towards her friend; she was invincibly cheerful as ever but Felicity thought she looked exhausted.

‘I’m hungry, don’t feel like cooking and could murder a double gin… and when your good friend is the manager of such a good establishment, then it’s a no brainer.’

‘You can’t say fairer than that,’ smiled Polly, immediately sliding a glass towards Felicity who balanced on the bar stool in front of her.

‘Are you okay? You’re looking tired.’

‘I’m all right, I’ve just been run off my feet today … no rest for the wicked.’

‘And you are very wicked.’ Felicity smiled.

‘How was New Year? I thought you and Adrian would be in.’

New Year’s Eve was overrated where Felicity was concerned. As far back as she could remember there had been nothing special about that date, and she’d automatically blocked out the last New Year she’d spent at Heartcross, eight years ago. It still pained her to remember the look on Fergus’s face, the pleading tone in his voice begging her not to leave as she’d turned and walked away, shutting the cab door behind her. Felicity had never forgotten that night, but as time went on, she’d regretted it more and more. She drew her glass towards her and drained the contents of it slowly.

Polly narrowed her eyes at Felicity. ‘Bad day?’

Where do I start? Felicity thought to herself blowing out a breath. ‘You could say that. Adrian and I weren’t around New Year’s Eve, because that’s when I decided we were no longer a “we”.’ She shifted the glass to one side to make room for her elbows on the bar. ‘As we speak he should be moving out of the flat.’

At first, she’d thought he was shocked when she’d asked him to leave, but then he’d retaliated and had the audacity to tell her she wasn’t all that. Felicity had fought the desire to argue with him – after all, what was the point? Adrian’s expectations of their relationship had differed greatly to hers, and he had basically treated her like his mother, not his girlfriend. Now she just wanted her own space back.

‘Oh Flick, what happened?’

‘I just realised he wasn’t the one for me.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ reassured Polly in a soft tone. ‘There are heaps of nice men you could go out with.’