Shelby twines his arm round my waist and pulls me closer to him. ‘I might give up my chance of stellar stardom for him, Molly, but I don’t plan on giving up you.’
He draws me in, kisses me deeply and my head spins. What a glorious way to end an amazing day, in the arms of the man that I’ve come to love.
Chapter One Hundred and One
As Lucas approaches, he bangs on the bucket he’s carrying. ‘Oi, you two. Get a room.’
I pull away from Shelby, guiltily, but he keeps me close to him, arm protectively around me. ‘Sorry, sorry.’
‘You’re frightening the animals,’ Lucas teases.
‘Are they all OK?’ I ask.
‘Fine,’ he tells me. ‘They don’t seem to mind where they are as long as their dinner is served on time. Speaking of which, is anyone planning on feeding me tonight?’
‘We’re definitely the ones who missed out on the all-day delights of the catering truck,’ I note. It looked very nice too. ‘I should have thought to grab something from them before they left.’
‘I could phone the Chinese takeaway in the village and get them to deliver,’ Shelby suggests. ‘I thought we’d stay here for the night with Molly as she refuses to move into the house.’
Lucas looks slightly taken aback. ‘Our house?’
Shelby nods. ‘I know it’s moving at quite a pace, but I’ve made some decisions over the last few days. I want to be more involved in your lives – yours and Molly’s. I’m going to cut back on my filming schedule and help out here more.’ He looks at me. ‘If Molly will have me.’
As if I’m going to say no.
‘Do you think we could make a future together, all of us?’ Shelby asks his son.
‘The animals too,’ I put in.
‘That goes without saying,’ Shelby agrees.
Lucas looks quietly pleased. ‘That would be cool.’
‘Come and give us a hug,’ Shelby says and, with only a moment’s hesitation, Lucas joins us too.
‘You’re not going to make me call you Mum, are you?’ he asks me. ‘That would be too weird.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ I say. ‘But it could be nice if we can make our own odd little family.’
‘OK,’ he says with a shrug and I guess that’s the closest we’re going to get to out-and-out approval.
‘I’d like to help you to find an outlet for your poems,’ Shelby says. ‘They deserve a wider audience.’
Lucas looks even more pleased by that suggestion.
‘You could do some more workshops here for the students if you want to,’ I chip in.
‘I’d like that. Does it mean I can stay here and not go back to regular school?’
‘I’m sure we can work something out,’ Shelby says. ‘But we can’t do it on an empty stomach.’ So he takes our order and phones it in.
‘Shall we go and find some blankets from the caravan? Might as well make ourselves comfortable.’
‘Your idea of comfort and mine definitely differ,’ he points out.
With Little Dog at our heels, we walk over to the carnage of my caravan, nevertheless.
Together we survey the crumpled mess. Blimey. I look at the remnants of my home sadly. ‘It looks a bit sorry for itself.’
‘It’s a blot on the landscape,’ Shelby notes. ‘Why don’t you let me buy you one of those fancy caravans, with hot and cold running everything and a proper shower?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say, anxiously. ‘It’s not really my style.’
‘You have to live somewhere,’ he points out. ‘And, if I’m going to be staying over more regularly – which I hope I am – it would be nice to do it in a fairly civilised manner.’
As Lucas is here, I don’t point out that we have slept under the stars together with nothing but a holey blanket for comfort and have shared an outdoor bucket shower which he seemed to quite enjoy. Probably best that we keep that to ourselves.
‘I hope that you notice I’ve hardly sneezed at all today,’ he says.
I hadn’t but I’m pleased if that’s the case.
‘A new antihistamine,’ he tells me. ‘I’m hoping that it will mean I can be more hands-on with the animals.’
‘That would be great.’
‘Though I think Little Dog might have to stop sleeping on the bed when we share it.’
I gasp at that and Little Dog’s ears prick up. I’ll swear that his perma-smile falters a little.
‘Compromise, Molly. That’s what all relationships involve.’
And he’s right, of course. Shelby will have to get used to my ways, but I’ll have to make changes to work round his. We can do this, though. I’m feeling confident. I’ll make a proper farmer of him yet.
Shelby roots around in the wreckage, risking opening the caravan door. It creaks alarmingly. Yet we manage to make our way inside while it shivers and shakes around us. We carefully rummage about until we find blankets and the deckchairs, hoping that it doesn’t heave a final sigh and collapse on us. A few plates and mugs have survived and, though the cutlery drawer has tipped its contents all over what remains of the floor, that’s intact too.
‘It could be worse,’ I note, tentatively kicking at the ruins with my toe. ‘If this is the only casualty of the day, that’s not too bad. At least none of the animals or actors came to any harm.’
Shelby starts to laugh. ‘And that’s why I love you,’ he says. ‘You’re a glass half-full kind of woman.’
He loves me! I pinch myself to check that I’m not dreaming. I’m absolutely sure that’s what he said. Just wait until I tell Bev.
Chapter One Hundred and Two
The Chinese takeway arrives, eventually. Once it goes dark, you can’t see anything up here. The delivery driver had a hell of a job finding us, but Shelby tipped him handsomely for his trouble. I’ll have to get better signage sorted out. Add it to the list of jobs. Perhaps we’ll rename it Hope Farm while we’re at it.
I’ve cobbled together makeshift beds in the cleanest barn for the three of us on top of nice, fresh straw. It doesn’t look too bad and I think we’ll all be comfy here – relatively. I just hope Shelby has dosed up. This will test his new medication to the full. But, perhaps he’s right, it’s time to have a bit more luxury in my life – especially if it makes life easier for him and Lucas too. In the meantime, there’s a loo in one of the outbuildings and a sink. I’m sure we could shoehorn a shower in there as well and I could rig up something basic again. I haven’t stopped thinking about Shelby’s offer to buy me a nice caravan with all mod cons, but should I let him do that when he’s already done so much? I don’t know. I’ll ask Bev. She’ll know.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ Lucas says and while we stand and watch, he flicks a switch in one of the sheds and the yard lights up with the soft glow of fairy lights. ‘I nicked them from the festival evening and some of the guys strung them up this afternoon. I’ve got bunting too, but we didn’t get round to that.’
‘Oh, it looks lovely,’ I say.
‘Nice one, Lucas,’ his dad agrees.
Lucas gives one of his rare grins. ‘Cool.’
So we break bits from the caravan and get a fire going in an old drum, well away from the barns – lesson learned – although all of them here are built of steel and brick and we have yet to stack them with hay bales.
Actually, we manage to get quite a blaze going and I never knew that caravans burned so well. It’s a shame to see the old thing go up in smoke, but perhaps it was its time. We sit round the fire on the rescued deckchairs, although I’m sure one is more wonky than it used to be. Lucas is laid out on a blanket toasting his toes and staring at his phone, willing it to have a signal.
‘Who are you trying to phone?’
‘Phoenix Jade gave me her number.’ He aims for a ‘no big deal’ voice and fails miserably.
The young singer at the festival, I seem to remember. ‘Oh yeah?’
‘I said I’d let her know how the move went. That’s all.’
/>
‘So you’ve been chatting with her?’
‘“Chatting”?’ He shakes his head in despair, but I’m not really sure why.
‘Do I need to buy a hat?’ Shelby and I exchange a wry glance.
‘Get a life, Molly,’ he retorts, but he tries his phone one more time with feeling.
Little Dog is as close to the fire as he can possibly get without scorching and, as I go to throw on another piece of caravan to keep us warm, I nudge him away with my toe. He inches right back, so I leave him be. I’m sure we’ll smell it if he starts to sinter. Big Dog has settled under Shelby’s deckchair for the duration and Shelby lets out a delicate sneeze in acknowledgement. I have my fingers crossed that his new antihistamine is as good as he thinks.
The night is as black as tar with no ambient light at all, save for the mellow glimmer of the fairy lights in the yard and the spark of our fire. The stars are putting on a splendid show for us – a lovely night to welcome us to Hope Farm Mark Two. There’s no noise apart from the crackle of the burning wood and the occasional bleat or snuffle from one of the animals as they too settle for the night.
I smile to myself. I think Hettie would definitely like this place. I hope I’ve done her proud and I don’t think I’ve left her behind at all. I can feel her here in the warmth of the night air, in the scent of the fresh hay in the breeze. She’s still very much with me and I’m pleased about that. Her spirit has sustained me through many a difficult time and I know it will do as I move into a new phase. We have a busy day tomorrow to get ready for the return of our young people on Monday but, for now, I can relax.
‘Mushroom chop suey for you.’ Shelby reads the scribble on the top of the cartons and hands them out accordingly. ‘Sweet and sour prawns for Lucas.’
Lucas sits up and takes his carton. ‘I like it here,’ he says. ‘It feels like a good place, even though the phone signal is seriously crap.’
No finer accolade.
I’ve given the cutlery and plates a wash under the tap and I’m sure they’re more chipped than I remember, but I dish out anyway. We sit back and enjoy our al fresco meal. I eat with relish, not realising how hungry I really was. It’s the best food I’ve tasted in a long time. Perhaps it’s the company or the atmosphere. So much better than eating alone. And I never thought I’d hear myself say that.
When we’re finished, Shelby takes my hand. ‘Listen to that.’ He cups an ear, theatrically. ‘Silence! Lots of it!’
‘I’m glad that you’re here,’ I tell him, sincerely. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’
He sighs contentedly. ‘I could get used to this.’
‘You could?’ I risk asking, ‘You don’t think you’d get bored? Miss the bright lights?’
‘Never,’ he says. ‘How can they compare with this?’ He takes it all in and nods happily. ‘I think Farmer Gordon would very much approve.’ Then he turns to me and in the glow of the fire, I can see the love for me shining in his eyes. ‘We’ve all had such a journey here that I might even suggest it as my next big storyline.’
I wonder who’d portray me on the television screen? I shudder to think. I try to be supportive, though. ‘That sounds like a great idea.’
Shelby turns to his son. ‘What do you think, Lucas? Would that perk up a jaded old soap star?’
‘Sounds cool,’ he agrees. ‘Just please make sure there aren’t any arsey alpacas in it. I couldn’t stand the strain.’
We all laugh and it’s such a joyful, uncomplicated sound that it makes tears come to my eyes. Shelby’s right, we have all come on such a journey together. One that I hope will continue for a very long time. Who knew when Lucas arrived at the farm, feeling all angry and unloved, that we would end up here? I couldn’t love him more if he was my own child and I want nothing but the best for his future. He has so much potential and I know that he’ll make it whatever he sets his mind to do. Looking at him, my heart swells with affection and I feel contentment right in the very centre of my soul.
He glances up at me, tearing himself from his phone. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. I’m just thinking how happy I am.’
‘Weirdo,’ he says, but he smiles as he focuses back on his screen.
Then there’s Shelby. I thought that’d I’d spend my life alone with just my animals for company. I thought no one would love me for who I am. And yet I gaze across at the man by my side and know that I’ve been lucky enough to find a love that I didn’t believe existed. If I could stay here, like this, for the rest of my life then I would know true happiness even though I’m a beginner at it.
As I’m enjoying my reverie, there’s a terrible crashing noise and the gate to the sheep’s enclosure in the barn flies open and Anthony comes careening out, knocking over a feed bucket as he goes. The rest of the flock are hot on his heels.
‘I locked the bloody gate,’ Lucas yells. ‘I swear.’
We’re all on our feet instantly and Little Dog sets off barking, while Big Dog decides to howl. Dick the Cock wakes up and crows, throwing his head back to let out an ear-splitting cock-a-doodle-do even though he’s only just gone to bed.
‘Not now, Dick,’ I call. ‘Too soon!’
The silence of the night is filled with the sound of sheep bleating anxiously. Anthony heads one way, the rest of the sheep in the other direction. He stampedes past us, only pausing briefly to check out what’s in our abandoned Chinese cartons.
‘Anthony,’ I shout after him. ‘Come back here. Don’t you dare run off!’
He runs off.
‘You get Anthony,’ Shelby yells. ‘Lucas and I will round up the rest of the sheep.’ They’re currently charging round the yard making themselves giddy.
‘Right.’ So we split up, running in opposite directions, giving chase to our errant animals.
And, as I pound after my anti-social sheep, my heart swells with even more happiness to know that on our first night in our new home, it’s very much business as usual. Except, for once, I’m not having to do it alone.
Author Note
My dear friend Donna is a force of nature. Well, just forceful really. So when she asked me to join her one Friday night to feed baby orphaned lambs at a local farm, how could I refuse? Actually, I couldn’t refuse, it would be pointless. Donna is a lady who doesn’t take no for an answer. In fairness to her, my default setting is also to say yes as you never know what life might bring you, do you? So, despite being allergic to all things fluffy and furry – think anything from guinea pigs to horses – I loaded up with antihistamine and set off.
It was a bitterly cold night and as the farm is in a fairly (very) exposed situation, the wind howled round us. Yet we snuggled down in the corner of a barn and set to feeding a dozen or more very hungry and quite demanding tiny lambs. I like animals, but wouldn’t necessarily class myself as an animal lover, as such. Being brought up in a northern, industrial town I don’t think I saw a sheep until I was twenty-one and, being allergic to everything, I’ve tended to keep my distance. I’m out of my comfort zone with animals. Yet these tiny, warm, wriggly bodies would melt anything but the hardest of hearts. They were well worth my sneezes and itchy eyes.
While we sat there amidst the straw, multi-tasking with two bottles of formula at a time, Donna explained that this wasn’t any old farm, it was actually a unique place. I learned that Animal Antiks is a life-enriching establishment. As I’ve said, it’s not a traditional farm, but has been set up to provide animal-assisted learning for students – children and young adults – with a variety of challenges including behavioural difficulties, mental health issues and autism. The farm aims to provide an environment that allows individuals to feel safe to flourish and grow so that they can reach their full potential. The students come along and interact with the animals by helping to look after them. They learn about teamwork and responsibility in a caring way.
Being a typical author, I needed to know more and Sarah and Nick who run Animal Antiks very kindly welcomed me to show me how the
y work. Interestingly, they quickly sussed me out and now give me very pleasant tasks to carry out when I go to the farm – cuddling goats, collecting eggs, turning ponies into unicorns with glitter paint – and don’t make me muck out pigs. I found out that many of the animals at the farm have troubled backgrounds or behavioural issues too. Don’t get me started on the naughty alpacas! Of course, the more I learned, the more I thought it would make a brilliant basis for a story.
Sarah, Nick, Donna and her husband, Paul, have been fantastic at helping with my research. Paul penned the excellent poems in the book. I’ve also met some of the brilliant students who go there. To see children who are unable to cope with traditional forms of education become engaged through interacting and working with animals is wonderful. The ethos of the farm is ‘opening hearts and unlocking minds’ which I felt was a perfect fit for the kind of warm-hearted fiction that I like to write and Happiness for Beginners was born! Thank goodness for my dear Donna being a ninja at getting people to do things that they don’t think they want to!
As with many charities, Animal Antiks are always short of funds. Unlike the book, a work of pure fiction, they have no gorgeous soap-star patron – though I feel they most definitely should! They rely on donations and if you’d like to find out more about them, they’re on Facebook and Twitter, as below.
Hope you’ve enjoyed the book and you might love it a little bit more now that you know what’s at the heart of it.
Website: www.animalantiks.co.uk
Twitter: @animal_antiks
Happiness for Beginners Page 36
