Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Fiona Holyoake Describes

"I have to admit, that's not the vehicle I pictured you drive," Viola said.

"Ah, yes," Fiona laughed and patted the driving wheel of her massive truck. "These are awful for the environment! I'd love to have something small and efficient, like the Fiat500 your friend Yola drives, or maybe a hybrid, or even a Tesla, not that it would work in the countryside. But I constantly have to drive Will's equipment for the fire brigade, and then again, my mobiles need so much space for transportation."

"Your mobiles?" Viola thought back at the dainty birds currently decorating her window.

"Ah, I forgot, you aren't attending the school play. I make stage props for the Fleckney Company. The amateur theatre? And last year I started collaborating with several other theaters in the three neighbouring counties. In Autumn I also had a commission from a children's hospital for a large paper mâché mobile for their lobby, and it was such a large installation, I ended buying a truck. I'm actually a wizard with engines," Fiona continued talking, which was simply perfect for Viola. She'd like to know more about her - almost - sister-in-law, and thankfully, Fiona didn't need any encouragement to share information. "It's like I have this... magic! Engines and motors love me. And to think of it, my Grandmother and Mother were herbalists and self-proclaimed psychics, and I can bring any generator back to life. Speak of the irony. And Will doesn't drive as you can imagine. I think he might actually be physically capable of doing it, as he is with most things" she said with a giggle. "I think he just enjoys being chauffeured around."

Fiona drove into the streets of Fleckney Woulds, and after confirming that Viola was also going to the Bake, Fiona kept talking, "The Holyoake men have this built-in laziness in them, usually just a couple of things that they simply refuse to do, don't you think? Some sort of silly stubborn sloth moments. Will doesn't drive. Clem once told me John doesn't fold and hang his clothes, and just sends his shirts to the dry cleaners after one day. It drove her mad at the beginning of their marriage for some reason." Fiona hummed pensively. "I leave my clothes everywhere myself, so I can't see why it would bother anyone, but to each their own, of course. And also, Will doesn't like chopping wood. He kept asking Rhys to do it at Christmas time, to have the fireplace going at Mable's. And they just kept bickering, and Will kept stalling, and then Rhys would just lose patience and go chop it. And I know Will can do it, and he does it in our cottage when he has to, but the complaining! Blimey!"

"Does he actually complain?" Viola asked with a chuckle. She'd never heard Will Holyoake say more than a dozen words at a time.

Fiona snorted and said, "He... sulks. And pretends to be deaf."

"Oh I see." Viola smiled.

Fiola grew silent and drummed her fingers on the wheel. Viola felt the change in the woman's mood, and then Fiona indicated and parked her truck in front of a coffee shop. It was new, Viola hadn't had a chance to visit it since she'd moved back.

"Alright, I'll be blunt," Fiona said decisively and turned to Viola. "I think I need to tell you what happened yesterday after karaoke."

Viola gave the redhead a shocked look. "Fiona, if you'd rather not–"

"It was a very unpleasant episode," Fiona said and looked away through the window. "And there will be rumours, of course, and you'll find out soon, but that's not why I think you should be included. Because I think you normally would be, but it's just Rhys is being stubborn, and despite his horrible pig-headedness, I love him most dearly, you see?"

She gave Viola a questioning look, and Viola shook her head.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, Fiona," she said with a soft smile.