Coming Home: An uplifting feel good novel with family secrets at its heart

Jill butted in. ‘She’ll be fine on the bus. Stay with us. We’ll have a laugh.’

Adela stood fixed to the spot. Was she to be so easily shaken off?

Bill shook out his jumper and placed it around Adela’s shoulders.

‘Adela needs to go home and I shall take her.’

In the car, Adela said nothing. Her emotions were running high. She was elated that he had brushed those girls off but angry that he even knew them. Who were they? How well did he know them? Her father had said that all the girls were after him. Well, she wasn’t. This would be the first and last time she would accept a date from him.

Her eyes slid over to look at him. His profile in the dark of the car was strong but his lips were tensed as he ran his hand through his hair. He felt her gaze and looked over at her. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Okay.’

‘Are you sure it wasn’t something else?’ She wondered if he was teasing her.

‘Too much sun maybe,’ she said.

‘You don’t get sun in London?’ He was teasing her.

She turned to look out of her window and didn’t give him the courtesy of an answer.

‘I was looking forward to tonight,’ he said. ‘What did I do wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Was it the girls?’

She shook her head, refusing to look at him.

‘I grew up with them. They’re fun.’

‘Good for them.’

He slowed the car in the lane leading down to her family farm. The headlights picked out an owl on a gatepost as he brought the car to a halt and turned the engine and headlights off, then they sat without speaking. Only the gentle ticking of the engine cooling broke the silence.

‘Adela,’ he said gently.

‘Why have we stopped?’ she asked.

‘I wanted a chance to talk to you. Without interruption. We’ve got at least two hours before your parents will be expecting you back.’ He settled in his seat, his back to the driver’s door. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. So talk to me.’

‘About what?’

‘Tell me about who you are and what you want out of life.’

‘I’m Adela Trip. I’m eighteen. I’m an artist and I want to make a living from my work. Is that enough?’

‘Uh huh. Do you have a boyfriend?’

She shook her head, then dared to look into his eyes. ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’

‘No. Not at the moment.’

‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘And so who are you and what do you want to do with your life?’

‘Right now I’d like a pint and some fish and chips. That was how I had planned tonight.’

‘Sorry I messed it up,’ she said shyly.

‘I forgive you.’ He was teasing again. ‘Shall we start afresh?’

She bit her lip but managed a smile. ‘Yes please.’

‘Good.’ He turned the engine on and reversed the car. ‘We’ll go over to Pendruggan village. There’s a great pub there called the Dolphin. Proper beer, good food and quiet. Fancy it?’

From then on the evening went smoothly. Bill was an easy person to be around and Adela made him laugh with her stories of her flatmates and her tutors, two of whom were Graham Sutherland and Lucien Freud. He told her about his work with the pottery and the great Bernard Leach who was teaching him. ‘He’s a genius, Adela. I’d like you to come down and meet him.’

‘That would be lovely.’

‘Good. By the way, can you play darts? The board has just come free.’

She surprised him with her skill at darts and took a game off him straight away.

‘Have you been having lessons?’

‘Beginner’s luck,’ she laughed. ‘Or maybe I’ve spent the last year in London learning to play in our local?’

‘Right, if that’s the case,’ he picked up his darts, ‘no more Mr Nice Guy.’

The drive back to the house was very different to either of the previous drives that evening. Now they were comfortable together, the small silences between them serene and pleasant.

At the front door, she thanked him.

‘Will you be up at the harvest tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘It’s my job to bring you all your snack, isn’t it?’

‘Ah yes. That’ll be the reason you come up.’

‘Nothing else.’ She chewed her lip, hoping and fearing that he might kiss her. She tipped her head up to his and in a low voice said, ‘So. See you tomorrow?’