So this time Shelby retreats into the background, the audience remain standing, but quieten as Lucas starts to spit out another rhyme. This time it’s an angry and sad poem about love and loss that I haven’t heard before. I feel tears spring to my eyes and, at the back of the stage, I see Shelby wipe his eyes with his jacket sleeve. All of Lucas’s pent-up emotions pour out and soon, there’s not a dry eye in the house. This is the conversation that father and son should have been having and it must be difficult for Shelby to hear all Lucas’s hurt performed so openly. It must be hard for Lucas to do it – especially unprepared.
Then he changes up and does a witty rant about people who go to the supermarket in their pyjamas which has everyone laughing. As he stands away from the microphone and takes a bow, the crowd erupt and shout and cheer at him. Lucas, looking bashful, laps up the praise. Shelby goes to wrap his arms round his son and gives him a big bear hug. They hold each other tightly on the stage and I hope that this is a healing moment in their relationship.
When they break apart, Shelby nods at me which is my cue for the little secret surprise I’ve been working on. ‘Come on, gang. We’re on.’
Shelby takes the front of stage. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the students of Hope Farm would like to say thank you.’
I shepherd the students, Bev and Alan – still looking like an alien being in his swanky dinner suit – to the stage and we troop on looking like a slightly more eccentric version of the Von Trapps. With much to-ing and fro-ing we manage to form some kind of disorderly huddle around Lucas, who is now beyond confused.
‘I know you’ve just done it, but we thought we’d surprise you with our rendition of “Save the Farm”, if that’s all right with you?’ Shelby didn’t know we’d got this planned, just as I didn’t know that he’d ask Lucas onto the stage. But I think it bears repeating.
‘You’ve all learned it?’
‘Of a fashion,’ I tell him.
He pulls a sarcastic face at me. ‘Oh, good.’
We’ve been having secret practice sessions when Lucas was out of sight and Tamara made sure that everyone had the YouTube video on their phone so they could rap along with it at home. It’s fair to say though, that at our last group practice, we weren’t exactly word-perfect. And the rhythm wasn’t exactly spot on. I like to think that we make up for our lack of accuracy with enthusiasm.
‘Let’s go for it,’ Shelby says. ‘Ladies and gentleman, feel free to join in at the chorus! Save the farm!’
With a bewildered shake of his head, Lucas kicks off again – this time clear-voiced and confident – and soon we’re all joining in.
It’s nothing short of criminal:
It’s a travesty; a scam.
We’re another victim of that HS2 to Birmingham.
Because, despite the work we’ve done here,
For those with special needs,
The rich man’s railway still comes first,
Yes, progress supersedes!
Even I find my voice. Next to me, Shelby slips his arm round my waist. Which, if I’m honest with you, I find more distracting than comforting. I take time to look round at all the students as I want to capture this moment for ever. They might never have a career on the stage, but their faces are shining with joy and there are beaming grins on every face and I know this was the right thing to do.
When it comes to the bit where we all chant ‘Save the farm!’ the audience join in with gusto and I come over all emotional again.
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
With the alpacas we’ll stand tall!
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
Hear us all at Hope Farm call!
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
Stand up for what you know is right,
So the work we do can con-tin-ue
Come join us in this fight.
The audience cheer as we come to the end of our poem and the students clap themselves too. They’re going to be talking about this for weeks, months, for ever. And why not? They all deserve some adulation. Especially my dear Lucas. I hope that his mother is looking down on him now as she’d be so proud, as am I.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper to Shelby as he leads us in a bow.
He winks at me. ‘My pleasure.’
We have a bright future ahead of us at Hope Farm and that means more to me than anything.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
I go home floating on a cloud. Tonight was more wonderful than I could possibly have expected. I tried to say thank you again to Shelby before I left, but I had the animals to deal with. When I eventually spotted him, he’d been swallowed up by a crowd of well-wishers and I didn’t like to disturb him.
Bev and Alan disappeared in a taxi together. I know! I’m not sure what the biggest surprise of the evening was – Alan rocking up in a dinner suit or Lucas agreeing to get up on stage and perform. Either way, both turned out extraordinarily well.
One of the parents, Jody’s dad, who has enjoyed considerably less wine than I have, drives the truck back while I sit contentedly in the passenger seat going over and over the evening in my mind. I wave away his offer to unload the animals and put them to bed, so he calls a taxi to take him home.
It’s been a long day for all of us and I thank him profusely for his help. As I see him off, I’m so glad to close the gate and head back to my little caravan. When I step inside, Little Dog greets me as if I’ve been gone for ten years.
‘Down, boy.’ I fuss him as he jumps all over my posh flowery dress. ‘Did you miss me? Come on then, we’ve still got work to do.’
So I slip off my dainty sandals and put on my wellies. I don’t want to keep the animals waiting in the truck while I get changed into my scruffs again. Instead, I hitch up the back of my lovely floaty dress and tuck it into my knicker legs, so that it’s out of the way. In the yard, Big Dog joins us as I take Tina Turner out of the truck and return her to the paddock to join her chums. The alpacas are all instantly skitty and I give them a handful of pellets and talk them down off the ledge. After that, I walk Buzz back up to his field and, when he’s settled, I sort out the bunnies and the goats who are much easier creatures. No matter how tired or how drinky you might be, the never-ending task of caring for animals still goes on.
Eventually, when everyone is back to where they should be, I can go to bed myself. Thank goodness that I have a whole day to myself tomorrow. This is the most socialising that I’ve done in years – possibly ever – and, though I’m also on a high, I feel quite exhausted by it now.
As I head back to my caravan, more than ready to hit the sack, I hear a car coming up the lane. It’s a bit late for that and my stomach responds by turning all queasy. We don’t get many people finding their way up here at night and, when we do, they’re usually up to no good. It’s the only time that I feel vulnerable. The dogs set off barking again and I click them both to heel.
Just as I’m about to reach for my phone in case I need to make an emergency call, a text pings in. It’s from Shelby and simply says, I’m at the gate.
I’d like to tell you that my heart rate returns to normal, but no, this makes it go into even more of a flutter.
‘It’s Shelby,’ I tell the dogs. ‘Stand down.’ Obediently, they stop barking and wag their tails instead. Dogs’ emotions are so much easier to read.
I rearrange my dress so that I’m decent again and we all walk down through the yard in time to see Shelby’s driver making a tricky eighteen-point turn in the lane and drive away. I feel a gulp travel down my throat. Does that mean what I think it does? Is Shelby planning on staying here for a while? Quite a while.
He’s leaning on the gate when I get there. He’s still wearing his dinner jacket, but his bow tie is undone and his shirt neck is open. His usually immaculate hair is a bit messy and, like me, he may be a little bit drunk. There’s a bottle of champagne in his hand.
‘Hey,’ I say as I get there.
He looks so beautiful standing there in the moonlight. The night is turning hot an
d heavy and I’ll swear that the air between us crackles with electricity. ‘I’ve sent my driver away. I hope I can I come in or I’ll feel foolish.’
I laugh at that. ‘Of course you can.’ I unlock the gate and let him through. He fusses Little Dog which comes more naturally to him now. Well, a bit more. He still wipes his hand on his DJ afterwards. We walk up towards my van.
‘I tried to speak to you before I headed off, but you were proving very popular.’
‘I saw you leave.’ His eyes are dark, glittering when he adds, ‘But I didn’t want our evening to be over.’
‘It was wonderful. I didn’t want it to end either. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink. I’m too wired.’
He holds up the bottle. ‘Let’s put this to good use, then.’
‘It’s still warm. I could get the deckchairs out.’ See, I have all the best chat-up lines.
‘Let me do that. Why don’t you go and find us some glasses?’
I take the bottle from him and put it on the step of the van. While Shelby finds the deckchairs and sets them up, I go into the kitchen. I stand and grip the work surface, trying to steady my breath. What is it about this man that turns me into a trembling wreck? When I’ve calmed down a bit, I search my cupboard for glasses, but can find none. They’re probably scattered far and wide across the farm, so I grab two mugs instead and head back outside.
Shelby pops the cork and I proffer the mugs. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t find my glasses.’
‘These are fine,’ he says. ‘I always think that champagne tastes better out of mugs.’
Yeah, I bet he does.
‘I haven’t got the final figure yet, but we raised a lot of money tonight, Molly. With your usual prudent management, it will see you through the next year. Maybe longer.’
‘That’s fantastic. I don’t know if you realise just how much this means to me, to the students and to the animals.’
His eyes hold mine when he says, ‘I think I do.’
We clonk our mugs together in way of a toast and settle in our deckchairs. The night is as black as pitch and the moon hangs low, peering over the tops of the trees. Apart from the odd grunt from Teacup or a bleat from Fifty from the yard and the shifting of the dogs under my deckchair, all is silent and still.
I kick off my wellies and pull my knees up, tucking my dress around them.
‘You looked beautiful tonight,’ Shelby says. ‘But I like you even better like this.’ With a slow smile, he reaches out, picks some straw from my hair and tosses it to the ground. ‘Lucas did a great job, didn’t he? I was so proud of him.’
‘Me too. It was lovely to see you step forward and help him. All he wants is your attention and approval.’
‘I know.’
I don’t want to mention Shelby’s impending move to Los Angeles as I want nothing to spoil this perfect evening. If Shelby goes off into the starry stratosphere and I never see him again, I will always have this to remember him by. He’s secured the future of the farm and, for that, I’m truly grateful.
Chapter Ninety
We sip our champagne in silence, embracing the warmth and stillness of the night.
‘I’ve realised,’ Shelby says, eventually. ‘What a terrible impediment to romance a deckchair is.’ He turns to me and reaches out to take my hand. ‘If I had a notion to kiss you, that’s a very big gap to bridge.’
I laugh and say, ‘If you did by any chance have that notion, we could move into the van.’
‘It seems a shame not to fully enjoy this wonderful evening. Do you have a blanket? We could walk up into the fields.’
‘That sounds like an excellent idea.’ He squeezes my hand tightly and I stand up on legs that are quite wobbly – part drink, part anticipation – to go and find a blanket.
In the van, I dash to the sink and squirt a blob of toothpaste into my mouth and swish it all round with my tongue. If I properly brushed my teeth, he might hear me and think I’m weird. Then I grab a blanket off the sofa and both cushions. I quickly try to brush off the residual dog hair.
Shelby stands to greet me and takes the blanket from me. Hand in hand, we walk up through the yard, up past the ponies and the Shire horses and beyond the big field at the outer reaches of our land. There’s no one and nothing else around up here and it feels as if Shelby and I are the only people in the world. If you don’t count Little Dog who, of course, has come too.
‘Let’s sit here.’ Shelby chooses a sheltered spot by the trees and sets the blanket down.
I throw the cushions onto it and say, ‘We should have brought a picnic.’
We make ourselves comfortable and I think that this is an infinitely better proposition for seduction. Shelby clearly agrees too as, without speaking, he pulls me close to him and his lips find mine. Little Dog, clearly not keen to play gooseberry, wanders off into the trees.
The darkness envelopes us, cradles us. Beneath the vast expanse of starry sky, on the land that I love and with the man that I am coming to love, we explore each other’s bodies, slowly and tenderly. With something approaching reverence, Shelby takes off my dress and his eyes devour my body. We lie naked in each other’s arms, kissing and every breath, every touch sets my skin on fire. When we make love, it truly feels as if we are joined as one. Shelby is a skilled lover who takes me to the exquisite edge of losing myself. If I were to die tonight, I would surely die a happy woman.
Afterwards, we lie still embracing, drifting towards sleep. I shiver and Shelby covers my nakedness with his jacket. I lay my head on his shoulder and feel that I have never been so content. We must sleep, because when my heavy eyes open the sky is lightening and Little Dog has curled into my back. Sensing I’m awake, he jumps up, wondering if it’s breakfast time. I ruffle his ears. In the distance, I can hear the sound of Dick the Cock crowing from the yard. It’s time to rouse ourselves and go back to the real world.
I glance across at Shelby who’s still sleeping. His face is soft, younger, at rest. I’m sure that people look at someone like him and think that his life must be easy, but I know that he has his troubles like everyone else. I don’t want to wake him, but I don’t want to doze off again and still be here when Alan and Bev arrive. That wouldn’t do at all.
Taking one last lingering look at him, drinking in his image as someone in a desert would do to slake their thirst, I stroke his chest, kiss his cheek, savouring these last quiet moments together. Shelby blinks his eyes open.
‘Morning,’ I say. ‘Well, nearly.’
He’s more alert now. ‘What time is it?’
‘Time we were moving. We could go back to the van for some tea and toast.’
‘I can think of nothing nicer. Well,’ he says, ‘maybe one thing nicer.’ He rolls towards me and we’re in each other’s arms again. ‘Toast can wait.’
We make love again and, when we can put it off no longer, we dress and carry our makeshift bed back down to the yard. We’re shy with each other in the harsh glare of daylight. Shelby holds my hand, coyly.
When we reach the van, he sighs at me. ‘Even now, I don’t want to call my driver.’
‘Stay,’ I say. ‘I’ll feed you. Though it will have to be quick as there are many, many animals waiting for their breakfast too.’
‘I can help,’ he says. ‘I’m not due on set until later. I’ll hang around for a bit and see what I’m taking on.’
‘I’m sure there must be some clothes around in one of the barns. I can’t vouch for the state of them, though.’
‘I’m fine like this,’ he assures me. ‘But I could do with a shower.’
‘Let’s do the chores first and then shower. I’ve learned from bitter experience that’s the better way.’
Shelby laughs. ‘I bow to your superior knowledge. For someone who’s spent years playing a farmer, I know precious little about the real workings of a farm.’
‘One baptism of fire coming up,’ I inform him. ‘I must just get out of my one and only nice dress though. You never know when
I might need it again.’
Shelby’s eyes twinkle.
‘Don’t start that cute eyes thing. We’ll never get anything done. Although you’re clearly an expert at helping me out of my clothes, any further delays and I think the animals will be so hangry, they’ll barge the door down. You don’t want to be on the wrong side of Anthony the Anti-social Sheep when he hasn’t had his brekky.’
As I turn to go inside the van, Shelby catches my hand. ‘Thanks for last night. It was very special.’
‘My pleasure.’ And I shiver with desire, once more.
He sighs heavily at me and, in a very serious tone of voice, says, ‘Molly … ’
But before he can finish his sentence, Alan’s car trundles into the yard. When it stops, both Bev and Alan climb out.
‘Well, would you look at that,’ I say, open-mouthed. ‘Wonders will never cease.’
‘It seems as if a lot of people were in the mood for love last night,’ Shelby remarks.
Then he gives me a look that I can’t interpret. Is it longing, regret or something more? But before I can ask, Bev is heading straight for me shouting ‘Coooo-eeeee!’ and the moment is lost.
Chapter Ninety-One
‘You’re still in last night’s dress.’
Bev misses nothing. ‘You’re still with last night’s boyfriend.’
‘Touché.’
Then she looks at the cushions in my hand. ‘What are you doing with those?’
‘What is this? Twenty Questions?’
‘Yes.’
I’m never going to get away with withholding information. I glance over to where Shelby and Alan are chatting and lower my voice so that they can’t hear us. ‘We took a blanket up to the big field and slept up there.’
Bev raises her eyebrows. ‘Romantic. Exactly how much sleeping was done?’
‘Some.’ Now I raise my eyebrows. ‘Where did you sleep?’
‘Mostly underneath Alan.’
‘Hmm. Then we’re both quite naughty ladies.’
Happiness for Beginners Page 32
