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

Molly gave a brief nod of understanding. ‘Do you have any idea what the argument between them was about?’

‘No,’ I shook my head and felt myself tremble, remembering back to that day. ‘I’ve no idea, all I know is that Grandie was angry, shouting she’d betrayed him in some way.’ The pain twisted in my stomach just thinking about those words.

‘Do you remember much about England?’

I nodded and smiled, and a warmth filled my heart just thinking about it. ‘Grandie lives at Honeysuckle Farm, and we lived in the annexe attached to the farmhouse.’ I hadn’t realised how much I missed him, until now.

‘Sounds very grand.’

‘It is,’ I cast my mind back, remembering the three-storey building full of exposed brick, wooden beams and huge stone fireplaces which roared every winter. ‘And there was a secret spiral staircase at the back of the house.’

‘Very quaint, like something out of a romantic novel.’

I smiled. Honeysuckle Farm was idyllic, set in acres of land with stone walls, ponies and chickens. ‘One day, you need to come and visit.’

‘I’d love to.’

‘Then there was the dance school where my love of ballet and drama began. Mum was a teacher there and helped to run the business. The idea was that she’d completely take it over from Grandie when he retired.’

Molly frowned at me with concern, ‘Do you know what happened to it? Is it still up and running?’

‘I’m not sure, I’m assuming eventually it closed down.’ My tone was pained, thinking about it. I’d never even asked Grace whether it was still there. As time passed it had never really crossed my mind what had happened to it, but it was that little place that had moulded my dreams into becoming a performer. I’d loved dancing there.

‘Such a shame.’

I nodded, ‘You’d love Brook Bridge; it’s a pretty village, a typical idyllic setting with lovely tea shops too, all things rustic.’

‘Very England!’

I felt a sudden warmth surge through my body, a feeling of belonging at my memories.

‘It was a wonderful place, but I’ve no idea what it’s like now.’ I began to wonder if it had changed and how different it might be.

Suddenly Molly’s mood dampened. She bit down on her bottom lip and her eyes drooped. ‘If nothing else, moving here meant we met.’

‘Mol,’ I exclaimed, ‘I’m going back for a short while, a few weeks at most. I need to recharge my batteries. I think I need a change of scenery, and hopefully I’ll come back with a new lease of life.’

‘So, when are you going to tell Rose?’ asked Molly as though she was reading my thoughts.

I exhaled and took a deep breath. ‘I’m just trying to work that one out,’ I said, turning it over in my mind.

‘And when are you thinking of leaving?’

‘I’m going to look at flights today. I applied for a credit card and it came through yesterday. The quicker I go, the quicker I’m back.’

‘Alice Parker, I’ll be counting the days until you return.’ She threw open her arms and I fell into them, hugging my friend tight.

As much as I’d miss Molly, the thought of going back to England by myself caused a feeling like excited fireflies exploding in the pit of my stomach. Was this a chance to get my life back on track? I couldn’t wait to see Grandie and Grace, and of course Honeysuckle Farm. The only pang in my heart was that Mum wouldn’t be going with me.

Twenty-four hours later the warmth of the early evening air had enticed out most of the city dwellers and Molly and I were sitting on the comfy seats of the rooftop jazz bar overlooking the neon signs and giant billboards that illuminated the city. The clear, azure sky was the perfect backdrop for the skyscrapers that glistened in the evening light. I loved this bar, it was all gypsy swing, stunningly crafted cocktails and just a stone’s throw from the radio station where Molly worked. The ambience was perfect, with a low-lit interior, wall plants and fairy lights that draped the bar. The rooftop was small and intimate with a band playing on the little stage in the corner.

Molly had talked me into coming out. It was her treat, she said but as her boyfriend Jay was the bar manager of this drinking establishment, we rarely ever paid for our drinks. Jay had reserved our favourite table and the moment he spotted us he beamed, then saluted us.

Within seconds he appeared at our side with two prosecco cocktails balancing on a round silver tray.

‘Now that’s what you call service.’ Molly gave Jay a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Can we open a tab?’

He winked, ‘Not on my watch, you provide the smiles and I’ll provide the drinks,’ he replied with a sparkle in his eye before pressing a swift kiss to my cheek.

‘Deal,’ both Molly and I said in unison, then laughed.

Molly had met Jay at this very bar nearly five years ago and they’d been the perfect couple ever since. He too was a proper New Yorker, born and bred, and his smile would be one I would miss when I returned to England.

‘Busy day?’ he asked, placing the cocktails on the table in front of us.

‘Yes, the radio show was fun tonight and missy here,’ she smiled towards me, ‘worked her last shift as a cleaner and has begun packing her case.’

‘Huh?’ asked Jay, puzzled.

‘I knew you weren’t listening to me when I was telling you!’ Molly jabbed him in the ribs in jest.

‘Telling me what?! I’m always listening,’ he tipped her a wink, ‘but maybe not at 3 a.m. when I’ve just finished my shift and all I want to do is sleep.’

‘Mmm, you’re forgiven,’ she answered playfully.

Jay turned towards me, ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m taking a trip … back to England,’ I answered.

‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said, cocking an eyebrow and sitting down on the arm of the chair. ‘Any reason why?’

‘My grandfather is ill, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him. It may be the last time I ever see him,’ I said, giving Jay a watery smile.

‘Will you come back?’

‘Of course, I’m just unsure when at the minute, but I won’t stay away too long,’ I promised.

‘I will miss you, my Mary Poppins.’

I smiled at Jay. The moment I’d first walked into the bar with Molly, Jay had guessed I was English. Over time I’d obviously picked up an American twang to my voice but there was still a hint of an English accent underneath. He’d called me Mary Poppins – a nickname that had stuck.

‘You too, Jay.’

‘When do you go?’

‘Day after tomorrow.’

Jay fell silent and took a second to absorb this information. ‘So soon.’ He looked towards Molly whose eyes had misted over. ‘Drinks definitely on me tonight.’ He touched my arm tentatively before returning to the bar.

For a moment, Molly and I stared out into the impressive night sky in silence, sipping our cocktails and lost in our own thoughts until she broke the silence.

‘Who am I going to drink with when you’re gone?’

‘You make it sound like you have no other friends! You have a whole gang at the station.’ I smiled at her.

‘It’s not the same though, is it?’ She poked out her bottom lip sulkily. ‘You’re my best friend.’

‘I’ll be on the other end of an iPad, we can FaceTime each other and I’ll be back before you know it.’ The words left my mouth, but they didn’t sound convincing, not even to myself.

Molly pointed her index finger at me. ‘You’d better be, or I’ll come and find you.’

Even though we’d both laughed it felt like there was an air of uncertainty hanging over me. Did I really want to come back to this life? I couldn’t see how my misery would change here, with the same old same old, day in and day out.