Appleby Farm Read online

  Eddy grunted. ‘Cheaper than buying feed for the winter.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, chewing my lip. Without enough silage the feed bill would be enormous and that was a cost we could definitely do without.

  ‘Who’s this now?’ he tutted, glancing over to the road.

  I followed his gaze to see a small van turn into the farm track and begin the bumpy journey towards us.

  ‘Me and Ross can manage the herd between us and look after the crops. But it would take the pressure off if someone else could handle the silage.’

  I squeezed his arm. ‘Leave it with me, Eddy; I’ll add it to my list.’

  Eddy nodded. ‘Give Arthur my best. Tell him I’ll be in later.’

  As I left him to check up on Ross, a smart white van with Lakeland Flowers written on the side of it bounced across the yard at speed and came to a halt in front of me at the farmhouse gate.

  A short wiry man with a thatch of silver hair jumped out, darted to the rear of the van and retrieved a huge bunch of lilies.

  ‘Delivery for Freya Moorcroft?’ he called, scanning me up and down with a hint of a grin.

  I cringed. I was never feeding the chickens in my pyjamas again. On the other hand, there was a man here bearing flowers with my name on them. Yay!

  ‘That’s me!’ I cried, bouncing on the spot.

  ‘Here you go then, miss.’

  ‘Thank you!’

  He handed me the bouquet and I tried not to snatch it out of his hands. Hardly daring to breathe, I pulled out the card that was tucked into the top and opened it with one hand.

  There was quite a long message but the word I most wanted to see was there in black and white: Charlie.

  I squealed, grabbed the man round the neck and hugged him. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘They’re not actually from me,’ came the muffled voice from my jumper.

  ‘I know,’ I laughed, ‘it’s a bit like shooting the messenger, only I like the message, so no shooting required.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that,’ said the delivery man, extracting himself from my arms.

  ‘They’re from my boyfriend,’ I said in a wobbly voice. ‘He must still love me. After last night I wasn’t sure.’

  ‘All right, miss, there’s no need to explain. Sign here, please.’

  He handed me an electronic pad and a plastic pen. I scrawled my signature – quite tricky with an armful of flowers – and gave it back to him.

  The man tapped away at his little screen and frowned. ‘Don’t happen to know the time, do you?’

  The kitchen door opened and Madge came trotting out, padded across the yard to the dog kennel and lay in wait for her morning egg.

  ‘Time for an egg, I’d guess,’ I giggled.

  The man shook his head, straightened his tie and, looking rather relieved, jumped back into the van.

  He tooted his horn and I waved him off, hugging the flowers to my chest.

  Charlie still loved me. And as long as we had love, the rest would work itself out, wouldn’t it?

  Chapter 12

  Auntie Sue was putting the kettle on when I practically danced my way into the kitchen.

  ‘Look! From Charlie!’ I tickled her nose with flowers as I waltzed past and told a white lie. ‘They’re for both of us. To cheer us up.’

  Björn wound his slinky body around my legs and I scooped him up, dropped the flowers on the table and kissed my aunt’s cheek in one happy circuit of the room.

  ‘Ooh, what a kind man; how lovely! Here, let me find a vase.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I sat at the table, cuddling the cat’s silky body to me while I read Charlie’s note.

  And cried.

  Gorgeous girl, I am a total pillock and don’t blame you if you’ve written me off. It is just like you to dash off at a moment’s notice to come to your aunt and uncle’s rescue and the fact that you’re so caring is one of the things I love about you. I know you need to be at the farm right now. I hope your uncle is doing OK and I can’t wait to see you.

  Your apologetic, grumpy, childish and loving Charlie xxx

  OK, I forgive him.

  When we arrived at the hospital later, a black nurse with eye-wateringly tight hair braids was making notes on a clipboard at the end of Uncle Arthur’s bed. His face lit up when he spotted us. His skin was still pale, except for the remnants of the scab over his eyebrow, but he looked a lot more with it than last night. He was propped up on at least three pillows, wires protruding from a gap in his pyjama jacket, a clip on the end of his forefinger and, of course, he still had his wrist in plaster.

  ‘You two are a vision of loveliness to an old codger,’ he wheezed.

  The nurse coughed.

  ‘Er, you three, I meant,’ he added. The nurse let out a huge lilting laugh that shook her bosom and Uncle Arthur rolled his eyes comically. I kissed him and arranged two chairs, one each side of the bed, while Auntie Sue hugged him until he groaned.

  ‘Gave me such a shock, you did,’ she said and sniffed. She poured him a glass of water from a jug and held it up to his mouth.

  Uncle Arthur sipped at it and smacked his lips. ‘Sorry, love. I’m a flippin’ nuisance, aren’t I?’ He patted her hand gently. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll—’

  The nurse cleared her throat. ‘Now, Arthur,’ she said sternly, ‘you’ve got some talking to do. Or I’ll do it for you, you hear me?’

  Uncle Arthur’s eyes darted from the nurse to me and then finally to his wife, and he swallowed. ‘Loud and clear, nurse.’

  The nurse hooked the clipboard back over the metal bar at the end of the bed, wagged an ominous finger at the patient and moved to the next bed, swaying her hips as she went.

  Auntie Sue stared at her husband expectantly. ‘Well?’

  Uncle Arthur turned a lighter shade of grey. ‘You know that accident I had …’

  Eddy had been spot on, thinking that there was more to the tractor accident than his boss was letting on. It hadn’t been a crackly radio that had caused Uncle Arthur to hit a ditch, it had been a painful squeezing sensation in his heart, but because it only lasted a few seconds and because he doesn’t like making a fuss he’d decided it was nothing.

  But it hadn’t been nothing; it had been heart attack number one.

  ‘The consultant was quite snooty about it,’ said Uncle Arthur, raising his bushy eyebrows indignantly.

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Auntie Sue tutted. She looked torn; poised at the edge of her seat as if she couldn’t decide whether to box his ears or fold him into her chest and never let him out of her sight.

  The ECG he’d had done the day before had picked up the previous damage to his heart straight away. Now he would have to have a stent fitted, followed by a few more days in hospital to sort out his medication, which would hopefully make sure this would never, ever happen again.

  ‘Look, you two,’ I said, reaching across the pale-blue standard-issue blanket for both of their hands, ‘for the next few weeks, I just want you to concentrate on Uncle Arthur’s recovery. Let me handle the farm. Eddy and I can sort out any problems between us. OK?’

  Awkward silence. Worried looks flashed back and forth.

  ‘What?’ I felt my cheeks colour. ‘Don’t you think I can do it?’

  I swallowed back a lump in my throat. I would expect that sort of reaction from my parents, but not from these two. My role in the family had always been the free-spirited girl, never sticking at anything, no direction, no long-term plan. And it had never bothered me before; well, why would it? It was true. It bothered me now, though.

  ‘Of course,’ said Auntie Sue. ‘It’s just that …’

  ‘It’s all right, love,’ said Uncle Arthur, squeezing his wife’s hand. ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more than our Freya, can you?’

  I let out a long breath. I would do this and I would do it well. My stomach bubbled nervously, but I fooled him with my breezy smile.

  ‘Fab,’ I said, kissing his forehead and giving him a gent
le hug. ‘Anything specific you want doing today?’

  My uncle drummed his fingers on his stubbly cheek. ‘There’s a passport application to fill in for Gaynor’s calf.’

  I opened my mouth and shut it just in time. That could have been embarrassing. It wasn’t because Gaynor was planning a little trip abroad with her newborn calf; all cattle had to have their own passports. I knew that, I’d just temporarily forgotten.

  ‘OK. Anything else?’ I said, trying to look confident.

  ‘I spotted a dead badger in Crofters Field by Colton Woods …’

  I racked my brains – which field was that?

  ‘I’ll show you the map of the fields,’ said Auntie Sue.

  I flashed her a grateful smile.

  ‘And we’re low on nitrogen phosphate and pot ash.’ He pressed himself back into his pillows. ‘Which is fertilizer,’ he added, noticing my bemused expression.

  ‘Yep, I knew that,’ I laughed. Not. ‘Oh and apparently there’s a vet’s bill to pay?’

  ‘Um. Right.’ He frowned and whistled through his teeth. ‘Bottom drawer in my desk, bring it in next time you visit and I’ll write him a cheque.’

  ‘Right then, I’d better get back to work.’ I beamed at them. ‘I’ll make a brilliant farmer. You wait and see. It’s in my genes.’

  The office was even more dark and gloomy without Uncle Arthur’s cheery presence in it. And the usual whiff of egg was joined by the doggy smell of Madge, who was pining for him in his chair.

  ‘Come on, Madge,’ I said with a grunt, pulling the solid little dog on to my lap. ‘Uncle Arthur will be home soon and in the meantime you can help me with the jobs. I bet you could find the dead badger without a map, for starters.’

  She licked my face, which I took as a ‘yes’.

  The farm’s phone was on the desk and my fingers itched to phone Charlie. But first I had the vet’s bill to find and a passport form to fill in for the Jersey calf. The passport sounded complicated so I’d work my way up to it. Uncle Arthur’s battered mahogany desk had three drawers in it. I pulled out the bottom one and gasped. Sitting on the top of a heap of papers was that envelope with FINAL NOTICE stamped across it in large red letters.

  Chest pounding, I lowered Madge to the floor – the licking was getting a bit much – and glanced at the door. I could hear Auntie Sue banging about in the kitchen.

  Was it really bad to pry?

  I lifted the envelope out and turned it over in my hands. Uncle Arthur had told me to look in here for that vet’s bill. In fact, he probably wanted me to find this letter. Perhaps it was his way of asking for help.

  It had already been opened and I slipped the contents out. I’d only just had caught sight of the word ‘bailiff’, when—

  ‘I’m glad you’ve found the bill, to be truthful,’ said Auntie Sue.

  ‘Blimey!’ I yelled, clutching my throat and throwing the letter up in the air.

  I stared at my aunt, my chest heaving with panicky breaths, Madge cowering under my feet. Auntie Sue sank into the chair next to me and I sat back, my eyes wide and GUILT almost definitely written across my face in huge letters.

  ‘I was looking for the invoice from the vet …’ My voice faded. Auntie Sue’s bottom lip was starting to wobble and her blue eyes sparkled with tears.

  For a second I was stunned. My aunt was such a cheerful soul, such a no-nonsense, let’s-make-the-best-of-it person, and sometimes I forgot that she was, in fact, quite an old lady. An old lady whose beloved husband could have died yesterday. But now she looked almost … defeated.

  ‘There’s more where that came from,’ she said, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron. She pointed to the drawer. ‘They keep coming: from the bank, the tractor company and now the vet. We’re behind with the tax man and the seed supplier, too. We’re in debt up to our necks. This is why we can’t retire; we can’t afford to. We have to keep going or else we’ll lose the farm.’

  ‘Things can’t be that bad.’ I swallowed. ‘Can they?’

  Sitting beside my aunt on the wooden bench at the kitchen table, over a pot of tea, I heard the whole story of how one unfortunate event followed another: the finance deal for the new tractor, the bull who had had to be put down, the calves lost to pneumonia last winter, the wet summer that had ruined the barley and the silage yield, and the subsequent big fodder bill. Each thing was relatively small in itself, but added together they had had a devastating effect on the farm’s cash flow.

  Auntie Sue sighed. ‘And now the loan company has put up the interest rate and we can’t keep on top of the payments. We should never have bought that tractor, even if it was only second hand. I keep telling him to sell up, leave the farm.’

  ‘That does sound sensible,’ I said tentatively. Although incredibly sad.

  I looked round the kitchen. The two cats were in their spot in front of the Aga and Madge had relocated herself to her master’s armchair. This place had been home to three generations of Moorcroft farmers and it was unthinkable that Appleby Farm would have to be sold, especially under such circumstances.

  She shook her head and pressed her lips together. ‘Your uncle says he won’t be forced off his own land by banks. He says while he still has breath left in his body he’ll fight to keep his farm.’

  And yesterday he could so easily have taken his last breath. I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes and quickly blinked them away.

  Auntie Sue pulled her handbag towards her and took out a handful of leaflets.

  ‘They’ve given me all these booklets to read.’ She flicked through them, dropping them one by one on the table. ‘“Healthy Diet, Heathy Heart”, “Living with Heart Disease”, “Avoiding Stress”. And how can he do that with all this pressure hanging over his head? Tell me that, eh? It was probably the stress of our money situation that landed him in the hospital in the first place. And I can’t see this problem going away.’

  We looked at each other and neither of us spoke. It felt like there was a ping-pong ball stuck in my windpipe and my heart was breaking for the pair of them; they worked so hard and it just didn’t seem fair. Auntie Sue and I leaned together until our heads touched and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

  Suddenly the ping-pong ball sensation vanished. I sat up straight and grabbed Auntie Sue by the top of her plump arms.

  ‘I’ll save the farm,’ I blurted. No idea how. Well, not yet anyway, but I was sure something would come to me.

  ‘Oh, Freya.’ She gave me a sad smile and blinked, causing two tears to roll slowly down her face.

  I wiped them away with my thumbs. ‘I mean it. I love challenges. Thrive on them. In fact, this is just what I need. The waitressing job was beginning to feel a bit easy; I’m ready for something new.’

  ‘But you’re a young woman, love.’ She tutted. ‘You don’t want to be stuck out here with us old folks.’

  ‘I love you old folks.’ I grinned.

  ‘Having to go out in all weathers.’

  ‘I like all weathers and I love the outdoors. Even you’ve got to admit that.’

  She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. ‘And there’s no money in it, you know that?’

  ‘Ha,’ I scoffed, ‘since when has that bothered me?’

  Auntie Sue shook her head anxiously. ‘What about Charlie?’

  Good point. I hesitated for a second. ‘Charlie will understand. And I only need to stay until things are settled. Think of me as one of those interim managers that go in to businesses to keep things ticking over until the real boss comes back.’

  For the first time in ages, I felt a whoosh of exhilaration. The farm needed a solution and I was good at solutions. I started pacing around the table, following the well-worn grooves in the quarry tiles. Made by the footsteps of the Moorcroft family.

  Wow. A shiver sent tingles up my spine. Generations of Moorcroft farmers had paced these floors and now I suddenly felt part of it.

  I stopped circling and smiled brightly. ‘Un
cle Arthur said one day I’d find my niche.’ I held my arms out and spun round on the spot. ‘Perhaps this is it! Maybe my forte has been under my nose all this time at Appleby Farm!’

  Chapter 13

  I pushed open the door to the White Lion and Lizzie waved at me immediately.

  ‘Hey, Lizzie, bet you didn’t expect to see me so soon?’ I said, leaning over the bar to give her a hug.

  ‘It is ace to have you back in Lovedale. But I’m so sorry that your cute little uncle is poorly. Is he going to be OK? How long are you stopping this time? Or are you staying for ever? Your coat smells horsey, by the way.’

  I sniffed my arm. ‘Oh, it does!’ I sniffed it again. ‘I love that smell. I took Skye out for a quick mosey up to Crofters Field this afternoon. You don’t mind, do you?’

  I missed out the bit about finding the dead badger and disposing of it in Colton Woods. I didn’t want to relive the moment myself, to be honest.

  ‘Course not!’ she cried, swiping at my arm. ‘We’ll share her. We can share everything if you want. Like sisters.’ She pulled a face. ‘Maybe not like sisters. My sister Victoria has never been keen on sharing. Except if it was mine in the first place. Well, anyway,’ she said dismissively, ‘forget her. How are you?’

  I busied myself finding a bar stool so that I could avoid her eyes. I’d been putting a brave face on for the last twenty-four hours since receiving that call from Auntie Sue, keeping my own feelings hidden in order to support her. But now, having discovered the scale of the farm’s debts coupled with the seriousness of Uncle Arthur’s health situation, I was feeling a bit wobbly.

  ‘Sad, worried,’ I murmured shakily. ‘Oh, I think you’re wanted.’

  Bill, the landlord, was clearing his throat repeatedly and Lizzie, taking the hint, served a couple of waiting customers before returning to me with a frown.

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying, Freya, you look a bit tired. You OK?’

  ‘Oh my word, Lizzie. I’ve got so much to tell you.’ I sighed, tapping the cider pump. ‘But first, half a pint and one for yourself. How’s Ross? By which I mean, how are you and Ross? Obvs.’