Her mum and dad had thought they understood her need to go and broaden her horizons. The world, Mary had said wisely upon hearing her daughter’s news, was a wonderful place. Her parents had just come back from visiting Isla’s older brother, Ryan. He’d gone to work in the mining industry just outside of Emerald in Queensland, and Mary was feeling not only worldly after visiting Australia but magnanimous too.
It was her gran who’d been hit hardest by the news that Isla was leaving to set up home two and a half hours away in Christchurch . Poor Gran, she couldn’t relate to her granddaughter’s burning need for more. She tried to placate her by telling her she was only going to the big smoke to study and that she’d be home every other weekend. Looking into those wily dark eyes reminiscent of her own though, she’d felt uncomfortable. They both knew she was lying. Gran had always known when she wasn’t telling the truth. Bridget had some grandmotherly super-power, Isla was sure of it.
Christchurch was small so far as cities on the world stage go but after Bibury, population two hundred thousand, it had been a culture shock. Isla had stuck it out though and completed a design course at Polytech while living in a draughty, old weatherboard house in the student suburb of Riccarton with three others. It was a stone’s throw from the city centre, and despite lean student times, there’d been plenty of good times too. It had been hard breaking things off with Ben, though.
‘Why don’t you tell me about this Ben?’ Rita interrupted. ‘You sound like you were fond of him.’
Isla smiled, she always smiled when she thought about Ben. ‘I was yes. He was a friend of my brother’s. I’d known him most of my life, and I’d never thought of him in any other way than as just another of Ryan’s annoying mates. But then one day he put a packet of potato chips down on the conveyor when I was working on the till at the local Four Square supermarket and asked me out. I could tell he was nervous as he stood waiting for me to scan the chips through, but I was still hesitant about saying yes.’
‘Why?’
Isla shrugged. ‘I knew I’d be leaving Bibury at the end of the year when I finished school, and I knew Ben wouldn’t.’
‘But you said yes?’
‘I didn’t want to embarrass him by saying no,’ she said smiling. ‘And besides, so far as Ryan’s annoying mates went, he was one of the nicer ones and definitely the cutest.’ She thought back to their first date, it had been to the movies over in Greymouth, and he’d taken her to a pizza restaurant afterward. The movie had been rubbish but later, as his hand reached over to wipe the dangle of mozzarella from her chin, she felt a fluttering in her stomach. He was good-looking with his gentle blue-green eyes and shock of blond hair, and she wondered why she’d never noticed him in that way before.
‘We went out together for the rest of the year, and I fell for him hard. I still broke things off when I moved to Christchurch to study, though.’ Her eyes welled up, even now all these years later at the painful memory. ‘We were just too young, and I wasn’t right for him.’
‘Why not, Isla?’
‘Because I was scared of my feelings for him. I loved him too much.’
‘Earth to Isla, earth to Isla.’ Annie waved a hand in front of Isla’s face.
‘Sorry I was somewhere else.’ Isla blinked, becoming aware that she was sitting at a table in the Kea Tearooms and not on a beanbag at Break-Free. She flashed an apologetic grin at Annie. ‘Where you stayed in Crete sounds wonderful, and home-grown vegetables do taste different to store bought. I love to cook, I’d forgotten how much until recently. I’m not a bad baker either if I do say so myself, but then I was taught by the best.’ She wriggled her fingers. ‘She taught me to tell by touch what the mix needed.’
Annie raised an eyebrow. ‘And who would that be?’
‘My gran, Bridget Collins. I’m staying with her.’
‘Oh, I’ve met Bridget! She’s lovely, her and Aunty Noeline are good friends. So, that must mean your mum is Mary from the pharmacy?’
Isla nodded.
‘Mary pops in most mornings for a coffee and something to eat. She always brightens my morning up.’
‘Uh-huh, I bet she does, with that glowing face of hers.’
Annie laughed. ‘She does have a good tan. But honestly, I look forward to my morning chat with your mum because it’s so dead in here a lot of the time. I think Aunty Noeline’s just given up on this place. She pretty much leaves the running of it to me,’ she said gesturing around her. ‘It frustrates me because Bibury is such a thoroughfare through to Greymouth and the rest of the Coast. This place could be a real goldmine if it was done up and the menu was brought up to date.’
Isla’s mind began to whir at the mention of goldmine; it was the mine bit that got her going. ‘I’m an interior designer, and an unemployed one for the minute so maybe I could put some ideas together for you to show Noeline? I think you’re right that this place could be a real goldmine given the right makeover.’ She held her breath hoping she wasn’t pushing in and overstepping the mark but it would be a way to check she still had her design mojo. She needn’t have worried.
Annie clapped her hands. ‘Really? That’d be amazing.’
‘I’d love to,’ Isla said without hesitation. She left the Kea with a spring in her step. She’d made a new friend, and she had work to be getting on with. It felt good to have a purpose.
‘Isla, I’m fed up with looking at the face on you tonight. Skipping the Light Fan-Tango is coming on the telly in half an hour, and I don’t want to have to listen to you huffing and puffing your way through it. Why don’t you go with your mum to that thing she loves so much? It will get you out of the house for a bit.’
Isla looked at her gran blankly. What was she on about?
Bridget flapped her hand in frustration. ‘Oh, you know that thing where they prance around in the dark to music. Tell her Joe.’
‘Your mother’s keep fit class,’ Joe said. He was settled into Bridget’s other recliner with his hands clasped around a belly full of bangers and mash.
‘Oh, I’m with you. No Lights, No Lycra you mean?’
‘Yes, that’s it. Give her a call; it’ll do you good to get out for a bit. A girl your age shouldn’t be sitting at home with her grandmother night after night. Should she Joe?’
Joe nodded, he’d agree with Bridget on anything if there was a bowl of her creamy rice pudding in it for him.
‘It’s only been four nights Gran,’ Isla said feeling ganged up upon, but she was feeling fidgety too. Oh God, she frowned, was this what her life had come to? Was she seriously considering shaking her groove thing in the dark, with her mum and a bunch of other middle-aged women? It would appear so because she was fed up. She’d mooched around the house on her own for the best part of the day waiting for the internet to be connected. It was rural broadband only in Bibury and nowhere near as high speed as she was used to, but at least as of three o’clock that afternoon, she was in touch with the outside world once more. The first thing she’d done was message Maura to tell her how she was getting on and then she’d hit Pinterest for some ideas for the Kea. That had kept her busy until Gran had got home. Joe had popped in not long after looking for his dinner.
Bridget, it would seem