Appleby Farm Page 9

  Anna raised her eyebrows. Bobby’s top speed was fifty miles an hour.

  ‘I know, I know. It’ll take me hours, but at least I won’t have to rely on Eddy for lifts once I’m there. He’ll be busy enough as it is.’

  Besides, I mused, I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. I followed her inside; she disappeared into the kitchen while I ran upstairs to start packing.

  ‘Have you told Charlie?’ Anna shouted up.

  Charlie! My stomach flipped. I needed to let him know. I racked my brains to remember what shift he was on but my mind had gone blank. I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text.

  Hey. Bad news, Uncle Arthur is in hospital. Had a heart attack this morning, but doing OK, I think. Am driving up there now to help out. Call me when you get a minute. Love Freya xoxo

  Fifteen minutes later I’d thrown most of my stuff into bags and was loading up the campervan. One of the major benefits of owning a home on wheels is that there’s never any need to travel light.

  ‘Wow.’ I heard a familiar voice behind me and I spun round to find myself nose to chest with Charlie in his fire-fighter’s uniform. My face lit up and I felt my body relax for the first time since Auntie Sue’s call; I was so pleased to see him.

  ‘Looks like you’re off for good with all that stuff. I’ve just caught you in time, I see.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a bit chaotic …’ The laugh faded from my voice. Charlie didn’t look in the least amused.

  His eyes blazed at me. ‘I can’t believe you’d just bugger off after sending me a text, without even saying goodbye.’

  ‘It isn’t like that,’ I exclaimed in horror, folding my arms.

  He snorted in derision and looked away. ‘No?’

  What? I hadn’t seen this side to Charlie before. And I can’t say I was too keen on it either.

  ‘Hey, Charlie, this isn’t about me and you. This is about helping two people that I love, and I need to leave as soon as I can.’

  He sighed and leaned against the side of the campervan. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds. The sound of my heart thumping was deafening.

  ‘Yeah, sorry, you’re right, and I’m sorry to hear that your uncle’s ill,’ he conceded. ‘I’m being selfish. But you’ve only just got back and I miss you when you’re gone.’

  ‘I know; I miss you too. But you can’t expect me to ignore what’s happening at the farm. Uncle Arthur could have died today.’

  And besides that, Charlie was behaving like a petulant child not an adult.

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled again and pulled me towards him. We squeezed each other tightly and he buried his face in my hair as we stood holding each other for a long time.

  Charlie bent down to kiss me. ‘You’ll be back next weekend, though, to take Ollie swimming?’

  I hesitated. I’d forgotten about that. Ollie wanted to go to the waterpark with the big slides and Charlie had promised him we’d take him. At the time I’d been flattered – it was proof that our date on Sunday had been a success – but I didn’t want to promise I’d be back in time. Just in case I wasn’t.

  Charlie’s eyes hardened. ‘Great.’

  What? I blinked up at him, gobsmacked. All couples have rows. It’s normal. I just wasn’t expecting it. And certainly not about this.

  I took a step back to give him a good glare. ‘Can I just get this right? Uncle Arthur’s in hospital and you’re sulking because I won’t come swimming with you?’

  He shook his head in disgust. ‘Freya, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Want to know the first thing that Ollie said to me on the phone last night? “When are we seeing Freya again?” Now what shall I tell him? Hmm? “I don’t know, son, maybe never?”’

  My eyes filled with tears. First the news of my uncle’s heart attack and now the two of us fighting. My own heart would be in tatters soon. I grabbed hold of his hands and squeezed them.

  ‘Come with me,’ I begged. ‘Take some time off, bring Ollie. He’d love the farm. He can be in charge of collecting the eggs; I used to do that …’

  Charlie shook his head slowly. ‘My life’s in Kingsfield, near my son. And so is yours. Freya, I don’t want you dashing off up the motorway. Your uncle is OK, you said so yourself. They’ll be fine. He’ll come out of hospital and he’ll just have to take it easy for a while. Think about it, what can you actually do to help?’

  He exhaled sharply and looked at me, his eyes stony, jaw set rigid. ‘You need to make a choice, Freya.’ He stabbed a finger into the space between us. ‘I won’t have my son messed about.’

  ‘Charlie!’ I cried, grabbing on to his arm. ‘You’re behaving like a bully. In fact, right now you remind me of my brother Julian and that is not a compliment.’

  He flicked me off as if I was a minor irritant and strode away.

  I pressed my shaking hands to my face. I was a bewildered, tearful wreck and, frankly, lost for words. Anna materialized at my side, looped an arm around my waist and the two of us watched him disappear into the distance.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really. I don’t know what to do,’ I said, silent tears still streaming down my face.

  ‘Follow your heart; that’s what you’d tell me to do,’ Anna said decisively.

  You need to make a choice, Freya. My life’s in Kingsfield … and so is yours.

  ‘Oh my goodness, you’re right,’ I gasped, turning to Anna. My pulse started to gallop. What was I even doing still standing here? I stood tall, swiped the tears roughly from my face and ran round to the driver’s side. ‘I’ve got to go, Anna.’

  I slammed Bobby’s door behind me and blew a kiss to my housemate through the window. ‘Wish me luck.’

  I started the engine, my heart beating wildly as I began my next adventure.

  A Family Affair

  Chapter 11

  A chink of sunlight found its way through the gap in the curtains and directly on to my face, waking me up instantly with its golden glow. I turned away and stretched, reaching my toes down to the cold bit at the bottom of the bed where the blankets had become untucked.

  Blankets? Of course! I was at Appleby Farm. I blinked rapidly, shot up to a sitting position and bumped my head on the sloping ceiling in the process. I rubbed my skull, wincing from the pain, my heart knocking against my ribcage as the dramas of yesterday came flooding back.

  The phone call from Auntie Sue, the row with Charlie, the endless journey up the motorway and then the grim reality of the cardiac unit at the hospital, where Uncle Arthur lay, anxious and dwarfed amidst the monitors, wires and machinery.

  It was the stuff of nightmares, but at least Uncle Arthur appeared to be out of immediate danger. Now I was here, I was going to do my utmost to see that it didn’t happen again. My eyes gradually focused on my surroundings and for a few seconds I let the comfort and joy of being back at the farm work its magic.

  My bedroom was on the top floor of the farmhouse, tucked under the eaves – hence the thud to the head. It was a large room with a lovely old sash window overlooking the valley. The window sill was deep enough to sit on and had been the perfect spot to snuggle up and read my beloved Horse and Pony magazines as a child. My single bed was ancient. It had a high iron bedstead but the most comfortable deep mattress I’d ever slept on, and I always felt like the princess from ‘The Princess and the Pea’, minus the pea, when I stayed here.

  Too comfortable, I mused, glancing at my watch; so much for my plans to get up early and get cracking. It was eight o’clock and Eddy and Ross would already be here somewhere. I jumped out of bed and strained my ears for any sounds but the house was silent except for a couple of creaking floorboards underneath my feet. I pulled back the curtains and, sure enough, there was the Land Rover, making its way up to where the cattle were grazing in one of the fields furthest from the farmhouse. It would have a name, that field, as did each and every field on the farm. I only really knew Calf’s Close, the one nearest to the cowsheds, but Eddy, my uncle and aunt,
and probably Ross by now, knew all of them off by heart.

  The early May sky was the palest blue with cotton-wool clouds bobbing along merrily and the sun was just visible over the treetops to the east. Simply looking at that sky made me feel better. And then I felt guilty for feeling happy … Oh, I was so confused.

  Right, Freya Moorcroft, I told myself, glancing at my sleep-creased reflection in the mirror, a cup of tea and then the chickens. My hair was rather bird’s-nesty, but I was sure the chickens wouldn’t judge.

  I pulled a jumper on over my pyjamas and tiptoed down the stairs. A low rumbling noise was coming from Auntie Sue’s room, like a hibernating bear echoing in its wintery cave, and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle; for such a delightfully dainty old lady, my aunt’s snores could wake the dead. I was glad she was still sleeping, though; it had been after midnight when we’d got in from the hospital and the poor thing had been on her knees with exhaustion. I don’t think I’d ever known her have a lie-in in her life, so this one was long overdue.

  The hens still had to be let out, though, and I’d volunteered to do that.

  So after being on the receiving end of an exuberant greeting from Madge and a more restrained one from the cats, I made myself a mug of tea, slipped on my wellies and skipped my way across the yard through the early morning sunshine.

  The air smelled wonderful: straw, wood smoke and an underlying aroma of cows, although that was fainter now that the cattle were out on the grassland for the next few months. Despite the trauma of yesterday, I felt a bubble of happiness rise in my chest at being back at the farm.

  ‘Morning, ladies!’ I cooed as I unbolted the henhouse door.

  The hens waddled down the ramp from their rather pongy sleeping quarters, clucking noisily, and instantly began looking for breakfast. Feeding the hens was easy – I chucked a few handfuls of pellets on to the ground, hopped back to keep my wellingtons from getting pecked and went to check the water feeders.

  Little Ollie would love to do this. And to collect the eggs, I thought automatically, before a surge of panic rose from the pit of my stomach to my chest.

  Charlie.

  The thought of him and our row made my throat ache with sadness.

  You need to make a choice, Freya: that had been Charlie’s ultimatum.

  And here I was, at the farm. When push came to shove, I’d chosen Cumbria over Kingsfield, my family over Charlie. But really, what choice did I have? I couldn’t possibly leave Auntie Sue to manage on her own and it was wrong of Charlie to ask me to do so. The way he had reacted – well, that wasn’t love, it was possession. I totally understood why he was so protective of letting a girlfriend into Ollie’s life, and I was terribly sorry to let the little boy down, but right now my heart was telling me that Appleby Farm was where I needed to be.

  At my feet, the cockerel was puffing out his chest in an attempt to show one of his fluffy ladies who was boss. He was a handsome chap: glossy dark feathers on his body with amber ones around his head like a lion’s mane. The hen was pecking at her breakfast unperturbed, completely ignoring his display of manliness.

  I’m with you, missus, I thought with a sigh.

  I hadn’t had the chance to phone Charlie since I’d arrived in Cumbria, and I planned to put it off as long as possible. I had a sinking feeling that our relationship might be over.

  It didn’t look like Ollie would ever get the chance to visit Appleby Farm.

  I brushed a flurry of tears from my eyes and went to the back of the henhouse to check the nesting boxes. There were around fifteen newly laid eggs nestled into the straw; some almost white, others a deep brown and some with a speckled shell, all shapes and sizes. I selected the biggest and cradled it in my hand. It was huge! Poor hen, that would have taken some laying.

  I’d forgotten to pick up the egg basket, so I put the egg back with the others for the moment, left the hens behind and headed back towards the farmhouse to get myself dressed. I only made it halfway across the yard when the Land Rover rounded the corner, came to a stop by the shed, and Ross and Eddy climbed out.

  Great.

  ‘Hi,’ I called, tugging my jumper down over my pyjamas as the pair strode towards me.

  ‘How’s our Arthur?’ grunted Eddy from under knotted eyebrows. He was wearing a pair of brown trousers, a checked brown shirt and a belt on top of which perched a large belly. His sleeves were rolled up and there was mud all the way up his arm. At least, I think it was mud. Returning from a cattle inspection, Eddy could be covered in something far worse.

  I took a step back and tried not to inhale.

  Ross was looking on the scruffy side too, I noticed, which made me feel slightly better about my own outfit. He was dressed in his navy overalls as usual, but was covered from head to toe in a fine golden dust, like he’d had a tussle with a hay bale and lost.

  I looked back at Eddy. ‘He’s going to be OK. It’ll take a few days to get his medication sorted out, but luckily there wasn’t too much long-term damage to the heart. Auntie Sue knows more, of course. As soon as she’s up I’m taking her back to the hospital.’

  ‘Good, good.’ Eddy nodded. ‘You want to go and get the weed sprayer ready, lad? Bottom Field first.’

  ‘Sure.’ Ross turned to go. ‘Oh, Freya, you missed Lizzie earlier. She says to pop into the pub if you get chance.’

  I pushed my bed-head hair behind my ears and smiled at him. ‘I will, definitely.’ Without Anna nearby I had no one to confide in about Charlie. And I’d have to talk about the whole disaster with someone, or I’d go barmy.

  Eddy coughed, breaking into my thoughts. ‘So?’ he said expectantly.

  I dragged my eyes away from Ross’s retreating lanky form and met Eddy’s frown.

  ‘You’re wondering whether this heart attack is connected to his accident, aren’t you?’ I sighed.

  ‘’Tis a coincidence,’ he said gruffly, scuffing the toe of his boot against the cobbles.

  I glanced up to see movements in the kitchen; Auntie Sue must be up.

  ‘Come on.’ I jerked my head towards the orchard. ‘Let’s walk and talk.’

  I marched off at speed before Auntie Sue caught sight of us, with Eddy bringing up the rear and grumbling about not even getting a cup of tea.

  ‘We’ll know more today; he wasn’t in a fit state to talk much last night,’ I said, taking a seat on a rather splintery-looking bench at the edge of the orchard. ‘But I do know he won’t be allowed to do anything much around the farm for up to six months, and certainly no driving for a while.’

  In front of us were two small fields. Lizzie’s horse, Skye, was grazing at the far side in one of them and the two Jersey cows with their calves were in the other. The newest calf was suckling and neither he nor his mother, Gaynor, were interested in our arrival, but the other cow, Gloria, ambled over, her calf bumping along beside her.

  Gloria stuck her nose over the stone wall and stared at us with her gentle brown eyes. I lost sight of the calf – she was too small to reach the top of the wall.

  I patted the space beside me and Eddy sat down with a groan.

  ‘Buggered then, aren’t we?’ he tutted. ‘Me and Ross’ll never manage the farm between us.’

  ‘Really?’ My heart sank. Naively, I’d thought that as we’d got Ross here for the summer, the farm would be OK.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ said Eddy, ‘he’ll make a good farmer one day. But we’ll be starting making silage next month and there’s over a hundred acres of grass – that’s a lot to cover for an old duffer like me and one apprentice.’

  Silage was the huge mountain of chopped-up grass that was held under plastic in an area called the clamp and weighted down with old tyres. It was used to feed the cattle when the grass stopped growing over winter.

  I nodded, wishing I knew what the answer was.

  Gloria snorted for some attention and we both got up to see her. My brain was whirring: could I help out, learn to drive a tractor and … everything
else? Or would that just mean extra work for Eddy? If not me, then who? And where would the money come from to pay for extra labour?

  ‘Lovely beasts, the Jerseys,’ said Eddy, rubbing Gloria’s broad nose affectionately. ‘Good natured, docile … a bit like young Ross, I suppose.’ He chuckled.

  I smiled. At least he approved of his apprentice; that was something.

  The calf edged a bit closer. I held out my hand but she was too timid. She was a lighter shade of brown than Gloria, although they both shared the same gorgeous brown eyes.

  ‘Those lovely eyelashes are wasted on you,’ I said. A thought occurred to me and I gasped in horror. ‘Oh gosh, they haven’t been milked today. Poor cows, they must be desperate!’

  Eddy shot me a sideways glance and shook his head. ‘No rush when they’ve got calves feeding. Your aunt will milk the extra off later.’

  I flushed. ‘Of course.’

  Charlie was right. His words from yesterday rang in my ears: Think about it, what can you actually do to help?

  ‘By the way …’ Eddy pulled at his collar and looked awkward all of a sudden. ‘I saw our vet in’t village yesterday and he asked about his bill. Overdue, he reckons.’

  ‘Right.’ I nodded, pulling myself up tall. ‘I’ll have a look in the office and see if I can find it.’

  Now tidying the office was something I could tackle, I thought, with a welcome spurt of optimism. Not that I wanted to be indoors especially, I was more of an outdoor person, but I was quite good at organization, plus I could try to sneak a peek at that ‘final notice’ letter I’d seen the last time I was here. If there was an issue with money at the farm, now might be a good time to get to grips with it, before Uncle Arthur came home.

  ‘Want my opinion?’ asked Eddy as we began to make our way back to the yard.

  I nodded. Any opinion would be welcome at this point in time.

  ‘Get a contractor in to manage the grassland for the summer and make the silage ready for winter.’

  ‘Will that be expensive?’ I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.