Chapter three
Sarah Boulsworth crept downstairs, smelling a delicious scent in the air. She wondered where it could be coming from.
She opened the lounge door to catch Rocket, Alli, Brandon, Jade and Archie engaged in a variety of activities. Alli was stirring a pan full of red sauce on the stove, and Rocket was manning some spaghetti. Jade, Brandon and Archie were chucking biscuit chunks into a saucepan of melted chocolate, when Jade looked up and said, "Hello, Mrs Boulsworth!"
"We're making lunch!" added Rocket, who was putting together a salad of actual rocket, as well as red chard and lamb's lettuce.
Sarah scanned the diner. The floor was clean, the windows were glistening and a peaceful feeling filled the air. What could have occurred while she was in her bedroom?
"I think the sauce is ready," said Alli, turning off the heat.
"Oh! Wait!" cried Rocket, hurriedly grabbing the bowl of ointment.
He presented it to his mum. "This is the balm of Ballabungie," he explained, "Dibber's granddad says that if you rub it into your hands it will cure the flu."
Sarah took a dollop of the potion and massaged it onto her hands. "You have been busy!" she observed, the croakiness in her voice already fading. It was then Rocket realized just what those strict rituals in the recipe had entailed. Mopping the floor, dusting the corners, scrubbing the worktop, washing the windows, polishing the furniture, cleaning the table…all of them had been things that were altogether helping his mum!
"Shall I dish up?" probed Alli.
"Let's wait until Peter gets back," responded Sarah, "In the meantime, I think it would be nice to play a board game…" She surveyed the settee, which was submerged beneath a mound of inflatables. "…although obviously not sat on the sofa!"
Peter Boulsworth entered the front door clad in his overalls, carrying a shovel. He went into the dining room to see how the kids were getting on, and was surprised to find them crowded round the dining table – with his wife – playing scrabble!
"Should I serve lunch now?" enquired Alli.
"OK," said Sarah, barely any of her croak remaining, "Let's clear the table."
Peter stood watching in complete silence. It seemed like rather a lot had happened while he was working in the farm.
A few days later, Rocket was sauntering past the Ballabungie village shop when he caught sight of Dibber's granddad working away hard in the store.
Rocket dashed inside and went up to the counter, behind which granddad was cheerfully sorting out some boxes.
"You made up the balm of Ballabungie, didn't you?" accused Rocket, but not with disapproval or malice.
Dibber's granddad paused in what he was doing, but he said nothing.
"It wasn't the balm that magically healed mum," Rocket went on, "You knew all along what would really make her better."
"The best medicine comes from the heart," was all granddad said, before disappearing into the back of the shop, leaving Rocket on his own to contemplate his cryptic message.
Had the balm of Ballabungie been a load of fairy tales? Rocket never found out.
However, there was one thing he had learnt. It was true what granddad said – the best remedy for his mother was not some mystic potion that could heal anything but rather a simple expression of love.
THE END