The last two weeks Finula had left in Treweham were going so fast. Each day she’d packed more and more stuff, not bearing to part with anything.
‘Will you just look at all these boxes?’ Dermot exclaimed, poking his head inside his daughter’s bedroom.
‘I know, I’ve tried my hardest to have a good sort out and get rid of any rubbish, but I can’t. It’s all precious.’
‘What, even your Brownie manual?’ Dermot squinted his eyes at the piles of books.
‘It’s part of my childhood, Dad!’ Finula insisted.
Dermot rolled his eyes and left her to get on with it. He had contacted the estate agents and the Templar was officially on the market, causing great concern amongst the locals. Dermot was a popular landlord and he was going to be a hard act to follow. Whilst he appreciated a huge change in lifestyle was imminent, he knew it was for the best. The timing was right. Dermot also knew his girl was in safe hands. Marcus had rung daily, always chatting to him as well as Finula. As clichéd as it sounded, he honestly felt he’d gained a son, not lost a daughter. His thoughts projected to grandchildren, giving him a warm, comforting glow.
After finally boxing every single item up, ready to be packed into the back of her and Marcus’ cars, Finula decided to call Megan. As she’d thought, Megan was anxious to see her.
‘I’ll come to you,’ she told Finula. ‘I desperately need a change of scenery.’
‘Are you sure you’re all right walking to The Templar?’
Megan let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Don’t you start. Tobias is bad enough. I can’t move without him hovering over me and when he’s not here Henry watches me like a hawk.’
Finula laughed. ‘That’s because he cares!’
‘I know, I know, but seriously, Fin, I’m desperate to get out.’
So, a very pregnant Megan slowly and carefully made her way to The Templar. She looked at the ‘For Sale’ sign and smiled to herself. Only just under a year ago she had first got a job here. It seemed much longer, probably because so much had happened since. She glanced down and patted her bump affectionately. Tobias wouldn’t be pleased when he returned from his estate meeting to find her out visiting Finula, but even so, she needed to see her best friend before she left for Shropshire. A lump formed in Megan’s throat. How would she manage without Finula’s happy-go-lucky presence? Then she recalled Tobias’ opinion that she’d be too busy with their baby to miss Finula. Still, life was going to be so different, for both of them.
Finula had the decaf cappuccinos ready and waiting when she arrived.
‘Come on, we’ll sit in the cosy alcove. Don’t want you propping yourself up by the bar in your condition,’ she laughed.
Megan gave her a warning look. ‘Don’t. I get enough of that at home.’
Finula cocked her head on one side thoughtfully. ‘You think of Treweham Hall as home now?’ She remembered how Megan had been in awe of the place when she’d first met Tobias.
‘Yes, I do now. It’s funny how quickly you can adjust. I’ve even grown fond of Henry.’
Finula threw her head back and hooted and Megan’s eyes filled with tears. This was precisely what she’d miss: Finula’s loud, hearty laugh. As if reading her mind, Finula suddenly went quiet.
‘All packed?’
‘Yep. Ready to go,’ Finula swallowed.
‘You’ll come back, won’t you, when the baby’s born?’
‘Of course!’ Finula looked almost offended by the question. ‘You’ll come and visit me in Shropshire, see my new home?’
‘Try and keep me away,’ grinned Megan. There was a pause, then she asked, ‘What are you going to do over there, job-wise, I mean?’
Finula’s face lit up. ‘I’ve been thinking. I want to set up my own business.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Still cooking, or baking, but in my own time. I’ve thought about a catering company...’ She looked for Megan’s response.
‘Excellent idea!’ This encouraged Finula to continue.
‘Perhaps cakes to begin with—’
‘Finula’s Fancies,’ butted in Megan.
‘Not Finula’s Buns then?’ she batted back with a smirk, making them fall around in giggles.
‘Oh, Fin, I’m so going to miss this,’ Megan managed to say once they’d both calmed down.
‘I know. Me, too.’ They embraced.
Dermot passed by the doorway and stopped for a second. Watching them brought a tear to his eye, then he shook himself and carried on lugging the beer barrel down into the cellar.
The next day saw Marcus pull into The Templar car park, ready to collect Finula. All hands were on deck as Dermot, Finula, Marcus and a couple of bar staff carried down all the boxes. After only just managing to shut both the car boots, they were ready to go. Finula hugged her dad hard.
‘Drive carefully, do ya hear me?’
‘I will.’ Her chin started to quiver.
‘Now, none of that, Fin. I’ll be on your doorstep before you know it,’ reprimanded Dermot. He gave her one last squeeze, then parted from her with a forced smile; inside he was falling apart. He turned to Marcus. ‘You look after her.’
‘I intend to, Dermot.’ Marcus shook his hand. ‘We’ll ring once we’re back.’
‘You do that.’ And off they went.
Dermot stood and waved until they disappeared completely, then went directly to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink.