Love Heart Lane Series

Foxglove Farm

CHRISTIE BARLOW

A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

HarperImpulse

an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2019

Copyright © Christie Barlow 2019

Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

Christie Barlow asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008319724

Ebook Edition © June 2019 ISBN: 9780008319717

Version: 2019-06-10

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

A Letter from Christie

Acknowledgements

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

For the four most awesome people in the world,

My gang, Emily, Jack, Ruby and Tilly.

I love you more xx

Chapter 1

Isla felt the tension bubbling away in the room the second she walked into the kitchen. She hovered by the table and watched her husband Drew slamming every drawer and cupboard door.

‘Have you lost something?’ she asked cautiously, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

Drew spun round and held her gaze. His face was mottled crimson, the tendons in his neck bulging. Isla knew that look. Drew was spoiling for a fight, but she had no clue to why. It wasn’t very often he reached boiling point but when he did there was little time to duck and take cover.

‘It’s always down to me, isn’t it?’

Trying her best to keep composed against the sudden onslaught – after all, she wasn’t a mind reader – Isla kept her voice calm, ‘What’s always down to you?’

Drew ran his hand through his hair numerous times in quick succession, a trait he had when he was agitated.

‘Everything!’ He threw his arms up into the air. There was an irritation to his anger, a sort of impetuousness.

His words packed a powerful punch. ‘Everything?’ she repeated.

‘Yes, everything. Who’s up milking the cows at ridiculous o’clock?’

Isla narrowed her eyes; this conversation had come out of the blue and wasn’t one she was expecting at all. She didn’t understand the point Drew was trying to make, and for a second she thought about reacting with a flippant comment about the fact that he chose to be a farmer. But instead she replied with a calm voice, hoping not to fuel whatever was burning inside him: ‘And who’s been up three times in the night feeding our son while I let you sleep? I’m shattered too, Drew, as well you know.’

‘That’s not in dispute, but then you go back to sleep whenever you can while I single-handedly keep the farm afloat.’

‘The last time I checked, it was a joint effort.’ Drew was beginning to agitate Isla now. How dare he?

‘You’ve got it easy, Isla.’

Isla absorbed what he was saying, feeling shocked to the core. ‘Are you serious?’ The anger was now rising up inside her. How dare he accuse her of having it easy? Isla couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent night’s sleep.

‘You swan around without a care in the world, breakfast at the teashop, lunch at the pub … I’m not here to bankroll your social life.’

‘My social life?’ Isla’s voice rose an octave.

‘While I’m working every hour, you’re frittering it away before it’s even reached the bank.’

‘So now I’m not allowed to see my friends?’ she protested.

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Goodness knows what you’re trying to say.’

They held each other’s gaze and Drew exhaled.

‘I mean it Isla, I’m sick to the back teeth of bringing in the cash. If you carry on spending it faster than I am making it, then we might have to think about you getting a job.’

His words had an air of finality to them but there was no way on earth she was prepared to just go back to work yet, especially with the baby being so young. And they’d talked about her staying at home while the kids were little. He’d never mentioned this before … What had gotten into Drew?

‘If you want to talk about what’s really going on here, without attacking me the second I walk into the room, I’m all ears.’ Isla’s voice was firm.

Drew stared at her, then yanked his coat from the back of the chair with anger before flouncing out of the door with a slam.

‘Damn you, Drew Allaway,’ she bellowed after him, close to tears.

Chapter 2

Perplexed, Isla stood in the window and watched Drew stamp across the yard. Of course, she knew the pair of them could squabble from time to time, just like any other married couple, but recently things seemed different between them. This argument seemed different. Drew seemed more distant, his sleep restless. Isla knew having a new baby in the house had changed the dynamics of their normal routine completely, and she knew Drew wasn’t a huge fan of the baby stage – he preferred when he could chase them up the stairs, give piggybacks and hold a conversation with them. Maybe, he just felt he wasn’t getting enough attention from her? But then, neither was she and surely that was what family life was all about?

‘Who does the cooking, the cleaning, the washing … takes Finn to school etc. etc.?’ she mumbled under her breath, picking up her phone from the table and texting Felicity.

‘Ask Rona to throw me in a Full Scottish. I’ll be over in ten minutes.’

Almost immediately her phone pinged, ‘You got it! Reserved your favourite table too.’

Isla knew she could always rely on Felicity. She was her best friend and Isla would be able to vent her frustration about this morning’s argument without it going any further, even though her partner Fergus was Drew’s right-hand man on the farm.

She was maddened by Drew’s behaviour, even more so after she’d woken up feeling quite chirpy. Baby Angus had only woken once in the night for a feed, leaving her feeling refreshed, even though she longed for the time when he’d sleep straight through. Isla knew she would have to tackle Drew’s mood again later and wasn’t looking forward to that. As soon as she picked up Finn from school, the hours were hectic until bedtime. Every night was the same routine: preparing the tea, bathing Finn and Angus, followed by making the sandwiches for the following day, putting the children to bed … the list was endless.

The more she thought about it, the more Isla became even madder with Drew. Who did he think looked after the day-to-day running of the farmhouse? Did he think the food miraculously appeared on the table in front of him the second he stepped through the door after a hard day’s work on the farm?

‘Get a job … get a job,’ she puffed to herself, reaching for the money pot on the shelf and tugging off the lid. She stared inside, shook it, then turned it upside down in bewilderment, but nothing fell out, it was completely empty.

‘That’s strange,’ she muttered, knowing that’s where Drew kept the cash. At the beginning of the week there had been over a hundred pounds stuffed inside.

Hearing Angus cry from his cot, she hurried upstairs and found the baby lying on his back kicking his legs. She reached inside and nestled him into her shoulder. ‘You are all that matters,’ Isla said softly. ‘You and Finn … us … our family. We need to get to the bottom of what’s up with your daddy and put it right.’ Isla kissed his head lightly.

‘Come on, let’s go and see Auntie Flick at the teashop.’

Five minutes later, with Angus bundled up tightly in his blue woven blanket and strapped inside his pram, Isla began to stroll towards the teashop with her argument with Drew still very much on her mind. She spotted him and Fergus thudding their mallets into the new wooden fence panels they were erecting in the bottom field. ‘Let’s hope daddy comes home in a better mood,’ she said hopefully, smiling down at Angus.

As Isla walked along, hearing the woodpeckers drumming against the trunks of the trees and the birds twittering away in the line of blush-pink-blossomed trees that adorned the pavement of Love Heart Lane, she hovered for a second, her nose pointing skyward, eyes closed as she inhaled the earthy spring smell, a perfume of rain, grass and soil. Isla immediately began to feel calmer. Spring had definitely begun to arrive in the small village of Heartcross.

There wasn’t another soul in sight on Love Heart Lane, which Isla was thankful for, as after the argument with Drew she didn’t feel much like exchanging pleasantries with anyone.

As she approached Bonnie’s teashop, she saw Felicity and her mum Rona beavering away behind the counter. Rona swiped Felicity with a tea towel as she pinched a cup cake and shovelled it into her mouth. They both burst into laughter.

Watching them, Isla felt a tiny pang of jealousy. They were both having so much fun and that’s what she missed … fun. The more she thought about Drew, the more she couldn’t pinpoint the last time that they’d spent any quality time together or the last time they’d laughed, and she meant proper belly laughing when the tears rolled down your cheeks and your stomach ached that much, you could barely breathe or move … which made her sad. She missed those times.

Isla manoeuvred the pram through the teashop door, the tinkle of the bell above alerting Felicity and Rona to her arrival.

‘Rescue me, Isla,’ Rona beamed. ‘I’ve been up since the crack of dawn … baking cakes … savouries,’ she swung her hand towards the delicious array of food displayed in the glass cabinets. ‘Not to mention,’ she continued, ‘the homemade carrot-and-leek soup simmering in the pot, rounds of cheese-and-pickle, beef-and-mustard, and tuna-and-cucumber sandwiches stacked away in the fridge, ready for lunch time. Jacket potatoes prepped, and this one … this one,’ she wagged her finger at Felicity in jest, ‘decides she’s already eating the profits before we begin our day!’

Felicity allowed her lips to twitch into a smile and patted her stomach. ‘When life hands you lemon cake … and it was just looking at me! And never mind the profits,’ she added. ‘It’s my waistline I’m more worried about. Since re-opening this place, it’s expanding by the day.’

‘So, stop eating the cake!’ said Rona, laughing.

‘Never mind you pair, I need rescuing myself this morning.’ As a wave of emotion washed over Isla, her voice faltered and she suddenly felt like she was going to burst into tears.

Felicity and Rona exchanged a glance before Felicity quickly pulled out a chair and ushered her friend towards it.

‘I’ll get the tea … always good in a crisis,’ offered Rona, swiping her hands on her apron, leaving Felicity to take care of her friend.

‘I need gin … in fact a double … no, a triple wouldn’t go a miss,’ said Isla, wiping an escaping frustrated tear away with the back of her hand.

Felicity parked the pram next to the table and gently ruffled Angus’s soft hair before sitting down next to Isla.

Isla’s eyes trailed after Rona as she disappeared back behind the counter, before she turned back towards Felicity. ‘You’ve got a good life, haven’t you?’

‘I can’t complain.’

Isla took a breath. ‘Just now, I saw you both laughing through the window, having fun.’

‘I have to admit,’ said Felicity, ‘I do like this time in the morning, the calm before the storm.’

Felicity took a swift look around the teashop that had once been her gran’s life. Bonnie Stewart had converted the front room of her cottage into a tearoom for passing ramblers and had enjoyed every minute of it.

Since she’d passed away Felicity had taken over the running of the family business with her mum, Rona, and felt proud keeping her grandmother’s business and name very much alive in the heart of the village. Being back in Heartcross was where Felicity belonged, and she couldn’t ever imagine leaving it again.

‘But what’s this got to do with why you’re upset?’

Isla blinked away more tears.

‘Come on, Isla, it can’t be that bad?’

‘Drew and I had an argument,’ shared Isla, feeling a tiny bit disloyal to him even mentioning it to Flick. Pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot and cupping her hands around the mug, she added, ‘And I wouldn’t mind, but I’d woken up in a good mood, until he decided to ruin my day.’

‘What were you arguing about?’

‘I’m not entirely sure. Out of the blue he suggested … no, actually he didn’t suggest, he insisted I was sponging off him, wasn’t pulling my weight and that … wait for it … I need to get a job … Can you believe it?’ Isla rolled her eyes.

Before Finn was born Isla had worked at a nursery over in the town of Glensheil and Isla could remember quite clearly Drew suggesting that she should become a stay-at-home mum. They’d discussed it at great length. The children were only young once and neither of them wanted to put them in full-time child care or after-school clubs.

‘He actually said that you were sponging off him?’

‘Well, not in so many words,’ admitted Isla. ‘But basically, that I wasn’t financially pulling my weight …’ Isla whispered, feeling the anger beginning to rise again. ‘And how the hell am I going to fit a job in, as well as taking Finn to school, washing, ironing, shopping etc. etc., and wouldn’t I just be working to pay child-care costs? It all seems ridiculous to me.’

‘But it might be good for you to have a little independence, something just for you,’ Rona said, overhearing a small snippet of the conversation. ‘Maybe a little extra pocket money,’ added Rona, sliding a Full Scottish breakfast towards Isla.

‘Mum!’

‘Sorry … sorry, I was only saying,’ she said, flinging her hands up into the air and quickly scurrying back into the kitchen.

‘Oh, and then, he’s decided I can’t see my friends.’

‘What?!’

‘He said I spend too much time in the teashop and in the pub seeing my friends and wasting his hard-earned cash. What does he expect me to do? Sit in the farmhouse all day, staring at four walls and talking to no-one?’

‘And you have no idea what’s prompted this outburst?’

Isla shook her head, ‘None at all.’

‘And what do you feel about going back to work?’

Isla stabbed the sausage on her plate and poised the fork near her mouth. ‘It’s too soon … look at him.’

All eyes turned towards Angus, who was making sucking noises with his mouth while fast asleep. ‘I’m not handing him over to anyone, and we agreed I didn’t need to work when I had the children. Financially it wasn’t worth it, which is what makes this all so confusing.’

Felicity shrugged, knowing Isla’s frame of mind was justified. ‘And let’s face it, in this small village there isn’t much opportunity for work unless you travel.’

Isla looked horrified at the thought. ‘Has Fergus said anything to you about Drew’s moods?’

‘Only that he didn’t seem himself at the moment … moody … a bit short-tempered, but he just put it down to interrupted sleep, with a new baby in the house.’

‘Believe me, his sleep is far from interrupted.’

Isla knew that they usually managed to communicate without conversations escalating into rows, but recently she did feel like she was treading on eggshells around her husband.

‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, we all have off days and with a new baby in the house, however adorable, it must put a strain on things,’ said Felicity reassuringly, as she reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Now go and give your face a quick wipe and I’ll get you a fresh pot of tea.’

‘Thanks Flick, for listening to me.’

‘Don’t be daft, what are friends for.’

As Isla disappeared into the bathroom, Felicity stood behind her mum, who seemed deep in thought.

‘Penny for them,’ said Felicity tentatively, watching her mum closely.

‘I was just thinking about this place, how many people have passed through that door over the years, how many cups of tea have been served and how many cakes have been devoured since Mum opened up all those years ago.’ She smiled, ‘I’m so glad you came home, and we are here … together.’

‘Me too,’ replied Felicity, grabbing the tea towel and drying the plates on the draining board. ‘It must have been thousands of cups of tea,’ she said and smiled at her mum.

‘And you best turn that sign around, otherwise we’ll have no customers today.’ Rona nodded towards the door. ‘Is Isla okay?’

‘She will be,’ answered Felicity, walking towards the door.

As soon as she flicked the sign over to ‘Open’ and returned to the kitchen, the old-fashioned bell chimed to signal a customer. Rona was expecting an influx of customers today, as Julia who ran the village’s B&B had informed her she was already full to the brim this week with a rambling club all the way from Staffordshire. As soon as the weather became warmer the teashop was always busy with hikers grabbing a packed lunch before setting off on their trek over the Scottish Highlands.

‘I could murder a cuppa and a slice of toast.’

Immediately on hearing the voice, Rona screwed up her eyes and stared, ‘No way! It can’t be …’

‘Yes, way!’ There in the doorway stood an elderly woman, wearing a shabby green coat that hung from her tiny frame, thick black tights that were laddered at the knee and a pair of chunky Doc Martens shoes. She looked around seventy, short and plump with her grey wispy hair wound up in a bun, and she had a huge beam on her face.

Immediately Rona stood up and flung her arms open wide and hugged the woman. ‘Martha Gray! Where the hell have you been? How lovely to see you! It must be at least …’

‘Too long to remember,’ interrupted Martha.

Felicity was scrutinising her mum’s face for clues to who this woman was, as Rona turned towards Felicity.

‘Martha … it’s Martha … Isla’s grandmother, your Grandmother Bonnie’s best friend,’ said Rona. But by the time Rona had jogged Felicity’s memory, Martha was already kissing her on both cheeks.

‘Oh my, so it is!’ Felicity hadn’t seen Martha since she’d moved away to London eight years ago. She’d lost a lot of weight and seemed shorter than Felicity recalled. She remembered her working in the teashop alongside her grandmother years ago.

‘Well … where is she?’ said Martha, straining her neck and casting a glance over the teashop. For a second Felicity thought she meant Isla until she added, ‘My old partner in crime, surely she hasn’t taken the day off … I’ve never known Bonnie Stewart to take a day off before.’

Rona felt puzzled and looked towards Felicity as the penny dropped. Rona swallowed a lump in her throat and took a deep breath. ‘She’s gone, Martha … she’s gone.’

‘What, to the shops? … Over to Glensheil for the day?’

Rona shook her head, ‘No, Martha … there’s no easy way to say this … Mum passed away.’

As the words registered, Martha slumped into a chair and unbuttoned her coat. ‘I can’t take this in … when did this happen?’ She gulped back a sob, dabbing her face with a tissue from her pocket.

‘Christmas time,’ replied Rona, taking her coat and hanging it on the stand in the corner of the teashop.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I know I’ve not been around for a while, but she was always my best friend, you know. I had visions of us running riot over in Glensheil on my return. Surely the nightlife is still the same over the bridge … gin nights and late-night parties are all the rage nowadays, knit and natter is so last year and way too tame these days.’

‘I’m sure if she was still here, she wouldn’t have hesitated to join you.’ Rona couldn’t help but smile. Martha had always had a zest for life and lived every day like it was her last. It didn’t matter how long Martha was away from Heartcross, she always slotted straight back in, like she’d never been away.

Many years ago, Bonnie and Martha had been inseparable, thick as thieves, and for a short time Martha had worked in the old teashop alongside Bonnie when the rambling trade was soaring. The teashop was the last stop on Love Heart Lane before the stile that led the ramblers over the heather-wreathed glens, beautiful waterfalls and majestic mountains. The climb was one of spectacular scenery.

Martha had last been seen in the village last spring. It had been a fresh, crisp morning when a gang of ramblers had fallen into the teashop before a five-hour hike. And that’s when Martha had met Walt, in the teashop over eggs benedict. Later that evening he’d changed his walking trousers and boots to an outfit of brown tweed jacket, checked shirt and navy corduroys … and that had been that. After their very first date she’d stepped down as chair for the Women’s Institute, had removed herself from the parish council and had done a moonlight flit with Walter, leaving Isla to report her as a missing person until a postcard had landed on her doormat all the way from a Caribbean cruise.

‘Taken too soon,’ Martha was muttering over and over again.

‘Let me get you a coffee?’

‘I need something stronger, I’m in shock.’

‘Nothing changes,’ Rona mouthed to Felicity.

‘Sherry,’ said Martha, ‘or whisky?’

‘Go and pour a whisky from the decanter on the sideboard,’ Rona whispered.

Felicity nodded and soon returned with the amber-looking liquid in a crystal glass.

‘Rest in peace, dear Bonnie,’ Martha said, swirling the whisky around in the glass before necking it in one gulp.

Felicity winced at the very thought of the burn in the back of the throat.

‘Does Isla know you are coming?’ asked Felicity, taking a swift glance towards the bathroom door, thinking that Isla hadn’t mentioned her grandmother’s return.

‘I thought I’d surprise her,’ answered Martha.