Read Online The Boy in the Olive Grove by Fleur Beale - Free Book Online
Authors: Fleur Beale
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soon as he was up to it. Iris, with her witch-filled story waiting to blow my mind, I steadfastly kept out of my thoughts, and I resisted the temptation to sink into the happiness of the olive grove boy.
Welcome to life in a small country town — peace and a gentle pace of living. Some other town, not my one.
BLOODY HOSPITALS — you need a GPS to find anyone. It took me ages to track down Dad, who was in a different ward from the one they’d parked him in after the op.
He was looking a zillion times better. I kissed him. ‘Nice of you not to turn up your toes, Father dearest.’
‘Howdy, partner,’ he said, a hint of anxiety in his voice. Iris, too, seemed tense.
‘It’s okay,’ I told them. ‘You’re looking at the Daughter part of Charlie Grey and Daughter .’
Dad rubbed his hands together, even though one of them had a needle taped to it. ‘Good lass.’
He closed his eyes and settled back on his heap of pillows.
Iris stood up. ‘We’ll let you have a snooze, Charlie. I’ll be back later.’
He smiled at her without opening his eyes.
I gave him another kiss. ‘See you, Dad. You stick around for another century or two. Okay?’
‘Cheeky,’ he murmured.
Although I hated bothering him with business, it looked like he could handle answering one important question. I kept it as casual as I could. ‘By the way, Dad, who do you deal with at the bank?’
‘Beverly Maketawa. She’s good. Local. Knows her stuff.’
Iris took my arm and dragged me into the corridor.
‘He’s going to have to answer basic questions if I’m to have any chance of saving the business,’ I told her. ‘Get used to it. I’ll be careful, but I need info that only he’s got.’
‘I know that! Don’t treat me like an idiot. But why ask today? You can’t go to a bank on a Saturday. He’ll be that much stronger by Monday.’
In some far-off future, I’d like to be married to somebody who’d protect me the way she was protecting him. I choked on a laugh.
‘What now?’ she snapped, still in fight mode.
‘I was thinking it’s great the way you’re protecting Dad, looking out for him. Then I thought it’d be nice to be married to somebody who did that for you. And …’
She burst out laughing too. ‘Yes, you and I didn’t have a relationship like that way back then.’ She slipped her arm into mine, companionably this time. ‘I’ll tell you my version. We’ll go home, have a cuppa and I’ll tell all.’
‘Good. I think.’
On the walk through the car park, Iris kept an enigmatic silence that unnerved me, although once we were in the car she was chatty enough, filling me in on what the doctors had told her. ‘They’ll keep him in for several more days. He’ll have to change a few things when he comes home.’
‘No more pies for lunch?’
‘I’ll make very sure of that. I’m going to drive to the factory each lunchtime. We’ll walk home. He’ll eat good food, then I’ll walk back with him.’
Man, but she was fierce. Dad wouldn’t have a hope of reneging. I was so grateful. She’d make him save his stubborn skin whether he liked it or not.
Back at their house, Iris did her caring earth-mother thing with me. ‘Sit down, Bess. We’ll have a drink. What would you like?’
‘If this is going to be as bad as I think it is,’ I said, ‘alcohol could be best.’
She laughed. How amazing, to make a joke and have her get it. I wasn’t used to mothers who did that. She gave me an elderflower cordial and made tea for herself from fresh mint.
‘All right, here goes.’ We sat down at the table. ‘Pin your ears back.’
Oh god, I so didn’t want to hear this, but I didn’t want to have her burning up in my head all the time either.
‘The first time I met you,’ she said, ‘you were nine years old.’
Mum and Dad split when I was eight. Dad met Iris almost a year later, despite Mum’s dark mutterings to the contrary. I said, ‘You were wearing a swishy red dress and you
Welcome to life in a small country town — peace and a gentle pace of living. Some other town, not my one.
BLOODY HOSPITALS — you need a GPS to find anyone. It took me ages to track down Dad, who was in a different ward from the one they’d parked him in after the op.
He was looking a zillion times better. I kissed him. ‘Nice of you not to turn up your toes, Father dearest.’
‘Howdy, partner,’ he said, a hint of anxiety in his voice. Iris, too, seemed tense.
‘It’s okay,’ I told them. ‘You’re looking at the Daughter part of Charlie Grey and Daughter .’
Dad rubbed his hands together, even though one of them had a needle taped to it. ‘Good lass.’
He closed his eyes and settled back on his heap of pillows.
Iris stood up. ‘We’ll let you have a snooze, Charlie. I’ll be back later.’
He smiled at her without opening his eyes.
I gave him another kiss. ‘See you, Dad. You stick around for another century or two. Okay?’
‘Cheeky,’ he murmured.
Although I hated bothering him with business, it looked like he could handle answering one important question. I kept it as casual as I could. ‘By the way, Dad, who do you deal with at the bank?’
‘Beverly Maketawa. She’s good. Local. Knows her stuff.’
Iris took my arm and dragged me into the corridor.
‘He’s going to have to answer basic questions if I’m to have any chance of saving the business,’ I told her. ‘Get used to it. I’ll be careful, but I need info that only he’s got.’
‘I know that! Don’t treat me like an idiot. But why ask today? You can’t go to a bank on a Saturday. He’ll be that much stronger by Monday.’
In some far-off future, I’d like to be married to somebody who’d protect me the way she was protecting him. I choked on a laugh.
‘What now?’ she snapped, still in fight mode.
‘I was thinking it’s great the way you’re protecting Dad, looking out for him. Then I thought it’d be nice to be married to somebody who did that for you. And …’
She burst out laughing too. ‘Yes, you and I didn’t have a relationship like that way back then.’ She slipped her arm into mine, companionably this time. ‘I’ll tell you my version. We’ll go home, have a cuppa and I’ll tell all.’
‘Good. I think.’
On the walk through the car park, Iris kept an enigmatic silence that unnerved me, although once we were in the car she was chatty enough, filling me in on what the doctors had told her. ‘They’ll keep him in for several more days. He’ll have to change a few things when he comes home.’
‘No more pies for lunch?’
‘I’ll make very sure of that. I’m going to drive to the factory each lunchtime. We’ll walk home. He’ll eat good food, then I’ll walk back with him.’
Man, but she was fierce. Dad wouldn’t have a hope of reneging. I was so grateful. She’d make him save his stubborn skin whether he liked it or not.
Back at their house, Iris did her caring earth-mother thing with me. ‘Sit down, Bess. We’ll have a drink. What would you like?’
‘If this is going to be as bad as I think it is,’ I said, ‘alcohol could be best.’
She laughed. How amazing, to make a joke and have her get it. I wasn’t used to mothers who did that. She gave me an elderflower cordial and made tea for herself from fresh mint.
‘All right, here goes.’ We sat down at the table. ‘Pin your ears back.’
Oh god, I so didn’t want to hear this, but I didn’t want to have her burning up in my head all the time either.
‘The first time I met you,’ she said, ‘you were nine years old.’
Mum and Dad split when I was eight. Dad met Iris almost a year later, despite Mum’s dark mutterings to the contrary. I said, ‘You were wearing a swishy red dress and you
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