Chapter 3

‘He’s beautiful!’ Fran smiled as Holly lifted her son out of the cot.

I think so, but then I’m biased.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Fourteen weeks.’

‘So is he…’ Fran bit her bottom lip and Holly knew what her friend wanted to ask.

‘He is. I’ve just told Rich… He didn’t know before. It’s complicated, but we haven’t had a chance to speak about it properly yet, so please—’

‘Of course I won’t say anything. It’s not my place to. But then… you must have been pregnant when you left?’

‘I was but I didn’t know it. Because of my polycystic ovaries, I rarely had periods anyway, so I had no idea anything was wrong. I felt a bit under the weather but blamed a cold, then the stress of me and Rich breaking up. Look, I need to make Luke a bottle, so let’s get him downstairs and we can talk more.’

Fran squeezed Holly’s arm. ‘We won’t have an opportunity to talk downstairs. As soon as people see Luke, they’ll be all over you like a rash. Let me give him a cuddle now and we can get together at the weekend or something and have a proper chat.’

Holly handed Luke over, and Fran cooed at him until he grabbed hold of one of her earrings.

‘Here, let me help you.’ Holly gently prised Luke’s fingers from the antique silver drops, then took him back. ‘He clearly likes your choice of jewellery.’

‘He has good taste then.’ Fran chuckled. ‘Don’t fancy having my ears torn in half, though.’ She removed her earrings and tucked them into a pocket, then held out her arms again. ‘You get his bottle ready and I’ll bring him down.’

‘I did try to feed him myself.’ Holly felt the old urge to explain herself emerging. ‘It was all I heard when I was pregnant – how important it was to breastfeed and give the baby the milk my body had made especially for him. He was born prematurely, and I did express milk at the hospital, which they gave to him in tiny bottles. I fed him for six weeks after taking him home, then I developed mastitis and it was agony. I was in tears all the time. After three rounds of antibiotics, I gave up and put him back on the bottle.’

‘Holly.’ Fran looked her straight in the eye. ‘Is this baby fed, warm and safe?’

‘Well… yes. Of course.’

‘Then stop beating yourself up about breastfeeding.’

‘I can’t help it. He’s still so young, and every time I see a woman feeding her child, or read something about it, I feel so guilty that I can’t do it properly.’

‘You’re doing the best you can. My mother told me that she fed me until I was seven months old, but I know some women who popped their babies straight on the bottle, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all. You gave Luke a damned good start, so please don’t be so hard on yourself.’

‘Oh Fran, I’ve missed you.’

And she had. She’d missed her practical, no-nonsense approach to life, missed her reassurance and her hugs. Fran had always been able to make her feel better about things.

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Hurt crossed Fran’s face again, and Holly’s heart lurched.

‘I need to explain some things to you, and I hope that when I do, you’ll understand. There isn’t a good enough reason for running off and not contacting you, but I was a mess. Ironically, I needed your friendship and support more than ever, but I couldn’t ask for it. I had to cut myself off from everything at Greenacres and Penhallow Bay, and the only contact I had was with my dad.’

‘I know. I asked him about you and he told me you were well but that you needed some time out. He was very good and didn’t give anything away about where you were or about Luke.’

Fran moved Luke onto her hip, then took Holly’s hand.

‘You’re here now and you’re safe and well. I can see that you’ve had your hands full. Besides which, you’ve just lost your grandpa and I don’t want you feeling bad about me today of all days. I’m fine; I survived. But please promise me one thing.’

‘Of course.’

‘Don’t run off again… at least not without letting me know how to get hold of you.’

Holly took a deep breath. ‘I promise you, I won’t.’

It was a promise she intended to keep.


Holly gave the bottle one more shake, then tested the heat of the milk on her wrist. It was perfect. She walked to the door, and froze as Lucinda Turner filled the doorway.

‘Hello, Holly.’

‘Lucinda.’ She pulled herself up to her full height. She didn’t want any conflict, but this was her home, and if Lucinda wanted a repeat performance of last year, then Holly had a few things to say in return.

‘I’m very sorry for your loss, Holly.’

‘Uh… thanks.’ Holly recalled seeing Lucinda at the church, noticing the question in her eyes when she’d looked at Luke. Then she remembered the last time Lucinda had spoken to her before that, and she shivered.

‘He was a good man, your grandpa.’

Holly nodded.

‘I see congratulations are in order too.’ Lucinda’s brown eyes fixed on the bottle in Holly’s hand.

Holly could sense the questions bubbling. No doubt Lucinda thought she had got together with someone else as soon as she’d split up from Rich. It hurt her to feel that this woman who she’d spent so much time with, who she’d once cared about and respected, could believe that of her.

‘It’s not how it looks, Lucinda.’

‘It’s not for me to judge you.’ Rich’s mother shook her head sadly.

‘Judge me?’ The words were out before she could stop herself. She swallowed hard, pushing down the rest of what she wanted to say. The last time she had seen Lucinda, the older woman had judged her very harshly indeed.

‘Here he is!’ Fran squeezed past Lucinda with Luke in her arms, and Holly sagged with relief at the interruption. ‘He says he wants his bottle pronto.’

Fran pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, then shifted Luke around in her arms, as naturally as though she held babies every day. Holly handed her the bottle and Luke started to feed, gazing up at Fran as he did so, as if he’d known her all his short life. He was so trusting, such a happy, settled baby, and Holly knew she was lucky in that respect. It could have been very different if he’d been born even earlier, or if he’d not been as strong as he was.

She pulled out a chair and sank onto it, wishing she could go and lie down, but with Lucinda in the room, her fight-or-flight instinct was on high alert. Lucinda crossed the kitchen and crouched down in front of Fran.

‘He’s perfect.’ She stroked Luke’s cheek gently, which made Holly bristle. If Holly hadn’t been good enough for Lucinda’s son, would she think the same of her child? But then, as she watched, Lucinda’s eyes filled with tears. ‘He looks so much like…’

‘I know.’ Holly nodded. She’d seen the photographs, had known Rich and his brother Dean as children. Of course she was aware that Luke was the image of them. ‘He’s Rich’s son.’

She had wondered about telling Lucinda when she saw her, had wondered if the woman would even want to know, but witnessing her reaction to Luke had made the decision easy. In spite of how badly Lucinda had treated her the last time she’d come to Greenacres, it was clear now that meeting her grandson had moved her.

Fran looked up and met Holly’s eyes.

‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘I think he needs changing. I’ll just pop him upstairs.’

Holly smiled her thanks, then she and Lucinda were left alone.

‘I can hardly believe what’s happened to us all,’ Lucinda said as she sat down. ‘What a mess we’ve made of things.’

‘Lucinda… I’ve only just told Rich about Luke. It’s a difficult situation and I hope you’ll understand that I couldn’t tell you before. After the way you spoke to me last year…’

‘I know, and I am truly sorry. I was so angry and upset when Rich left that I couldn’t think straight.’

Holly’s stomach was somersaulting with anxiety, but she knew she had to get the conversation over with or she’d never be able to relax in Penhallow Sands. She’d learnt the hard way that delaying difficult conversations didn’t always help. She’d been afraid of what her grandpa would think about Luke, and afraid of how Lucinda and Rex would treat her and her son, so she hadn’t come home; and because of that, she hadn’t been able to hug her grandpa again or kiss him goodbye.

‘Lucinda, I was broken-hearted when Rich let me down the way he did, and then to have you coming here and saying such hurtful things was like having vinegar poured over a wound.’ Holly’s stomach churned at the memory of Lucinda standing at the back door, her eyes red and puffy, her hands planted firmly on her ample hips. When Holly had answered the door, she’d expected Lucinda to hug her and cry with her because Rich had left, but instead she’d been subjected to a tirade in which Lucinda had blamed her for the fact that her only surviving son had upped and left without an explanation.

Lucinda shook her head sadly and released a deep sigh.

‘Holly, I know the truth now. I know it wasn’t your fault at all.’

‘Rich told you?’

‘He did. He told me that he let you down by not turning up at the solicitor’s office to sign the contracts for the cottage, then when you tracked him down, he hurt you even more.’

‘I wanted to explain to you that I hadn’t made him leave, that I loved him and that he’d broken my heart, but you—’

‘I blamed you because it was easier; because I couldn’t bear thinking that my only son had left me and his dad. I didn’t mean what I said.’

Holly nodded, but the pain ran deep. She’d known Lucinda throughout her childhood, as she and Rich had been good friends long before there was anything romantic between them. Lucinda had tended to Holly’s cut knees, hugged her when she’d cried over losing her mum and taken her shopping so they could enjoy girlie days out together. Then, that awful day, she had told Holly that she was to blame for Rich leaving the village, that she had never been good enough for him and that she never wanted to see her again.

‘When I found out I was pregnant, I fell apart. I had no idea what to do. In the past, I’d have come to you and asked your advice. Especially in light of the fact that Luke is your grandson. But because of what you’d said, I had no idea if you’d even care. I thought about coming back to Greenacres so many times, but the knowledge of how much you hated me was one of the things that kept me away.’

Lucinda’s mouth was open and tears were running freely down her cheeks.

‘There’s no excuse for what I did, Holly.’

‘I do understand that you lost your son, and that made certain things harder for you…’

‘No. That was why I reacted as I did, but to treat you so appallingly – a young woman who was like a daughter to me – was inexcusable, and I understand if you can’t forgive me. It took me a while to realize what a mistake I’d made, and it wasn’t until Rich came home and explained everything that I understood how bad that mistake was. But love, please believe me when I say that I never hated you.’

Holly sniffed. She had abhorred being angry at Lucinda and it had contributed to her own misery.

‘Please try to forgive me, Holly. I’d really love to get to know my grandson and to make it up to you.’

Holly nodded. ‘I’d like that too.’

She did want Luke to know his family, but she also knew that it would take time. There was a lot of hurt to work through first, and months of pain wouldn’t disappear overnight.

‘I’m glad you’re okay, Holly. We were all worried when you suddenly left, and I knew it was partly my fault. What with Rich going too, it was like losing two members of our family.’ Lucinda wiped at her eyes as she stood up. ‘But the most important thing is that you’re all right. And your baby son too. How… how old is he?’

‘Three and a half months. He came seven weeks early,’ Holly added.

‘That must have been a worrying time for you.’

‘It was. I need to speak to Rich about it all.’ She met Lucinda’s gaze. ‘We didn’t have much time to talk earlier, but obviously there are conversations that need to be had.’

‘Of course there are.’ Lucinda pushed her shiny bobbed brown hair behind her ears. ‘You’re not rushing off again, though, are you?’

Holly shook her head.

‘Come and see us at the bakery? Please.’

‘I will.’

‘And bring Luke?’

‘Of course.’

‘And remember that I am sorry, Holly. I’d do anything to take my words back.’

Holly nodded. If only it was as simple as that, but once things were said, they were out there. All she could do now was try to move on, for Luke’s sake.


Ten minutes later, Fran returned to the kitchen with Luke and an empty bottle.

‘Looks like people want your mummy to stay around for a while, Luke.’ Fran spoke to the baby but Holly knew it was for her benefit. ‘She’s been missed.’

‘Did you hear what Lucinda said?’

‘I bumped into her in the hallway as I was bringing Luke back down. She cooed over him for a while but wouldn’t hold him. She said she didn’t want to without asking you if it was okay. She clearly feels bad about something.’

Fran sat down and Holly shuffled her chair closer to her friend and leant her head on her shoulder, just as she used to when they were growing up. Things were different now, with Grandpa gone. Only a few months ago, she’d have faced his disapproval if she’d come home, and worried about Lucinda’s reaction too. Plus, there were other ghosts at Greenacres that she didn’t have the strength to confront.

But as with everything in life, things had to be dealt with eventually, and Holly knew that time had come. There would be no more running away.


‘Would you like anything else to eat?’ Granny asked as she stood up.

‘No, that was lovely, thank you. The caterers you hired were fabulous.’ Holly stood too. ‘Sit down, Granny, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

Glenda nodded, but as she sat back down, Holly noticed how she gripped the edge of the table.

‘Granny, what is it?’

‘What is what?’

‘You’re in pain.’

‘Holly, I’m past eighty and it’s been a long day. Some aches and pains are to be expected.’

‘I know, but you should try to rest more.’

‘I can rest when I’m dead, dear.’

Holly winced.

‘Oops! Sometimes I can be so inappropriate. Talk about poor timing. Your grandpa would’ve frowned at me for that one.’

‘I say the wrong thing all the time.’ Holly grimaced as she recalled occasions when she’d put her foot in her mouth.

‘Your mother was the same; I think you both get it from me.’

Holly filled the kettle, then went about making tea as her granny talked.

‘It was strange today, wasn’t it?’

‘Very.’

‘Seeing my husband buried not far from my daughter was surreal. No mother should lose a child. Losing a spouse, well, it’s to be expected for one or the other, and Grandpa and I were lucky to have each other for so long, but losing a child goes against the natural order of things.’

‘I understand that now more than ever.’ Holly carried two mugs of tea to the table and set one in front of her granny.

‘Yes, you’re a mum now and it’s wonderful. Luke is such a gift.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t come home in time to say goodbye.’

‘You wouldn’t have known your grandpa at the end, dear. He was very different.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, he wasn’t himself before you left really, was he? Not the man you knew growing up.’

‘No… he was a bit forgetful, but I put it down to age and tiredness. The hours he was still working must have been taking their toll.’

‘He was always the same, determined to keep going day and night to make the vineyard a success. It was just a shame he wouldn’t listen to your father and try something new. Sun, rain or snow, he was out there somewhere dealing with something. I believe that’s what kept him fit for so long.’

Holly sipped her tea and gazed around the kitchen with its dark green Aga, heavy oak cupboards and green and red tiled surfaces. The large window above the apron-fronted sink overlooked the same view as her bedroom window. Outside, the sky was dusky pink, painted with purple and peach streaks. It was beautiful, and made her aware of how much she’d missed that view, the sense of openness that being at the old house created. Unlike the flat she’d rented in Exeter, with its view restricted to the buildings opposite, Greenacres was detached and set in its own land; the only nearby buildings were the barns and winery. She knew that if she stepped outside now, she’d be able to inhale the sweet spring air, to feel its soft caress on her skin and to watch as the sky changed from pastels to navy then black. She also knew that if she kept walking, she’d cross the vineyards and the fields, eventually reaching the open expanse of the clifftops with their panoramic view of the sea and the paths that led down to the golden beaches of Penhallow Sands.

‘He was a good grandpa.’ She nodded.

‘He was, but he was very strict, with your mother when she was a child and then even more so with you. But he loved you both and wanted the best for you, because of his own upbringing and because he wanted more for his family. After a childhood spent in children’s homes and foster care, he worked his fingers to the bone to make this vineyard a success. He didn’t always go about things the right way, or the most sensitive way, but I’m pretty certain that he was very hard on himself a lot of the time and that he felt he’d failed your mother when she got sick.’

‘He didn’t fail Mum. How could that possibly have been his fault?’

Glenda shrugged. ‘I swear he thought he could scare the cancer out of her. He hated that it beat him. At least that was how he saw it. I told him there was nothing more he could have done, but he wouldn’t listen.’ She blinked, then wiped her cheek.

‘Oh Granny, don’t get upset.’

‘I’ve cried many tears over your mum and Grandpa, Holly. A few more won’t make a big difference.’

They fell quiet for a while, both lost in their memories.

‘I don’t know if I ever told you, but your grandpa was such a handsome man in his youth.’

‘I’ve seen the photos, and you weren’t so bad yourself.’ Holly was glad of the change in the direction of their conversation.

Granny chuckled, then raised her mug.

‘To the only man I ever bedded, and that’s because we were wedded.’

Holly raised her mug too, feeling her cheeks glowing. She was a bit embarrassed that Granny was talking about sex. She also wondered if it was an unintentional comment on her own situation, because she had slept with Rich and got pregnant by him even though they weren’t married. But times had changed, and judging by the distant look in Glenda’s eyes, she hadn’t meant to comment on Holly’s lifestyle choices or her morals.

‘The marriage thing was different when I was young,’ she continued. ‘We felt we had to be married before we had sex… or some of us did, at least! I know it’s not something you want to think about your grandparents doing, but don’t ever be shy about sex. It’s a part of life and a damned good part. Of course, Grandpa didn’t like to think it happened, especially to his daughter, which was why he was so shocked when she told us she was pregnant with you. He said that if Bruce didn’t marry her right away, he’d crush him with the grapes and bottle him.’

‘Goodness!’ Holly could imagine her grandpa saying exactly that.

‘Your mother fought her corner for a while, insisting that she didn’t need to be married, but she and your dad were in love, so they were happy to say “I do” before you arrived.

‘He was a passionate man, your grandpa,’ Granny carried on, clearly back in the past. ‘He knew a thing or two about making love—’

‘That baby is good as gold.’ Bruce entered the kitchen and set the baby monitor on the table, and Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Her granny clearly needed to talk about Grandpa, but the direction the conversation had taken was making her uncomfortable.

‘He went down okay then?’ she asked him.

‘Oh yes, he wasn’t averse to a bit of that.’ Granny smiled, a faraway look in her eyes.

‘Oh God, no…’ Holly shook her head, but Granny wasn’t listening.

‘He did.’ Bruce frowned in the direction of his mother-in-law. ‘I won’t ask what you two have been talking about. I’d love a cuppa if there’s one going.’ He took the empty baby bottle to the sink and swilled it out, then set it on the draining board while Holly made him a mug of tea the colour of mud. Her dad liked his tea strongly brewed with a tiny splash of milk.

‘Right, I’m off to bed.’ Granny got up and picked up her own mug.

‘I’ll sort that. Leave it there.’

‘Thank you, Holly. It’s so wonderful to have you home again. Love you both.’ She gave a little wave, then left the room.

‘Was she talking about sex again?’ Bruce asked as he pulled out a chair.

‘Again?’

‘Yup. She’s been doing it quite a lot lately and it can be very awkward, especially when she misunderstands what someone has said. It’s like some kind of innuendo bingo.’

‘Is it the grief, do you think?’

‘It could well be.’ Her dad nodded.

‘At least she’s thinking about something nice.’

‘True. Not really what other people want to think about, though… especially not the vicar, although he did deal with her comments quite well when he came to the house after Grandpa had died. She was going on about one time when she and Henry got naked and rolled around in the grapes in the winery. ‘

‘Best avoid that vintage then.’ Holly giggled.

‘Doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?’ Her dad raised his eyebrows.

Holly drained her tea, then picked up the monitor and automatically checked that the volume was turned on.

‘Don’t worry, I checked it already.’

‘Force of habit, I guess. Living alone means that I check everything about a hundred times.’

‘I hate to think of you being on your own, Holly. I’d have come to see you more often if they could have spared me.’

‘I know that, Dad, and I appreciated you visiting when you could. I’d have come back sooner too if I hadn’t been so worried about Grandpa’s reaction to Luke. Now I feel dreadful that they never met.’

‘Some things just aren’t meant to be. Grandpa declined so much in the last six months that he might not even have understood who Luke was.’

‘Was it that bad?’

Her dad nodded. ‘Poor man.’

‘And you and Granny?’

‘We’re okay… especially now that you’re home.’

He met her eyes and the love in his gaze filled her heart. She’d left Greenacres in a moment of panic and pain and hadn’t really thought it through, but then she’d found out she was pregnant, and coming back had seemed too big a mountain to climb.

She’d told her father that she and Rich had rowed, but not the things they’d said, nor why she’d been so hurt. She’d been unable to voice her feelings, fearing that freeing them would make her pain even worse, so instead she’d given him a summary and left it at that. She was also afraid that telling him might make him see Rich differently, or prejudice him towards the young man he’d loved as a son. That was something she’d never want to do. Rich was Luke’s father, and in spite of how he’d treated her, she knew that she had to try to ensure that both families could accept that fact.

‘I’m so grateful to you for trusting me when I told you I couldn’t talk about me and Rich, and not pushing me to tell you more.’

Dad nodded. ‘As long as you’re good, then so am I. Tell me if you want to, but forget about it if that suits you better. I’m just here for you whenever you need me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Right… I’m going to head up to bed now, if you don’t mind. It’s been a tough day and I have an early start tomorrow.’

‘At the vineyard?’

‘I wish it was outdoor labouring. It’s with the accountant.’

‘Old Mr Seymour?’

‘Yes. He’s still doing the books for us. Though he still insists he can’t abide computers and needs everything in writing. It makes keeping the books straight so much harder. I guess we should think about changing to an accountant who’s a bit more with it, really.’ Her dad rubbed his eyes.

‘It would make sense. I remember Grandpa saying that Mr Seymour had given up all his other clients and only did Greenacres’ books as a favour to him.’

‘It’s something I’ll try to look into soon.’

‘Everything okay, though?’

His eyes dropped to his slippers and he shook his head. ‘It’ll be fine. I need to go over some figures with him, that’s all, and see how the land lies.’

‘Okay, well if you need me there too, let me know.’

‘Will do.’ He kissed her cheek, then left the kitchen.

Holly stared at the surface of the old pine table and ran her finger over the grooves and lines etched into its surface. There were straight lines, wonky lines and even some numbers, probably left over from her maths homework or her grandpa working out the vineyard accounts. Towards the edge was what appeared to be a pattern, but when she looked more closely, she could see that it was actually a smiling face surrounded by a mass of wavy hair. It was her mum, a childish sketch Holly had drawn years ago, when everyone had been here, sitting around the table together; a whole family, not one fragmented by death and distance, pain and loss.

Time moved on. People changed, left the area and passed away.

But this was still a family home, and Holly was back. She hoped she could piece together what was left of her family before it was too late, before anyone else was taken away.

She stood up and yawned, took the mugs to the sink, checked the back door was locked, then picked up the baby monitor and headed upstairs. It wasn’t even nine, but she was exhausted, and knew she’d need her strength for the next day. A good sleep would help; she had to hope Luke thought so too.