by Leah Hope
Gil had suggested that it might be a nice idea if they take a little something for each of the grandchildren. Of course, when it came to ideas, he left that to his sister. Bridget was ashamed to admit that she’d had to dig out her birthday book to refresh her memory on the children’s ages. Emma, the eldest was almost fifteen, then came George, who was ten, followed by five year old Hattie with baby Seth almost two. She settled on a little silver locket for Emma, a selection of colouring and puzzle books for the middle two and a picture book of farmyard animals, complete with accompanying noises, for the baby. When a bouquet for Cathy and some craft beers for John were added to Cindy’s already cramped, tiny boot, Bridget wondered how long it would take Gil to mention the “nice little hatchback” she had turned down at the showroom. Amazingly he said nothing.
Finding himself in the unusual position of occupying the navigator’s seat, Gil made sure he was up to the task. Equipped with Bridget’s new satnav, a road atlas, ordnance survey maps of the Yorkshire Dales and a bag of sherbet lemons, he told himself he had left nothing to chance and was ready for anything. He had calculated the journey to the little hamlet just outside Askrigg where John and Cathy lived would take about six hours, without allowing for stops or traffic jams. If they were to arrive in time for tea at four, they needed to set off by eight at the latest. He was therefore a very happy man when they pulled out of the driveway half an hour ahead of schedule.
Gil had of course accompanied Bridget on several previous occasions shortly after she’d passed her test. She had been particularly anxious about a junction where the ring-road merged into a single lane and which always seemed to bring out a severe case of road rage in even the most mild-mannered drivers. However she had handled it admirably and Gil had to admit that his sister was very competent behind the wheel. It still didn’t stop him being mildly terrified however at the prospect of her being let loose on the A1. Maybe I should have planned a route via quiet country roads with a 60mph speed limit he thought, as Bridget zoomed out onto the Esplanade.
Gil’s worries were soon proved to be unfounded and surprisingly, he soon found himself relaxing enough to enjoy the changing landscape. Or he would have done had Bridget not have suddenly developed an annoying habit since she became a driver. She sang. Or rather she tried to sing her way through a collection of her favourite operatic arias. After the third rendition of Nessun Dorma Gil could stand it no more. “Please Bridge, I know you love that song but do you think we could have a few minutes peace, I think I’ve got the start of a headache.”
“There’s some paracetamol in the glove box” Bridget replied tersely, before breaking into the Toreador song from Carmen.
Gil tried to block out the sound by concentrating on the road ahead. It didn’t work. “How about we find somewhere to stop for lunch? I saw a sign back there for some services” he said in desperation, even though he wasn’t really hungry.
“Ok, but I’m not being ripped off by their exorbitant prices, we’ll stick to the sandwiches and coffee I made.”
“Fine by me” Gil said. He would have agreed to anything to get away from that incessant noise.
Ten minutes later and the pair were seated at an outdoor picnic bench tucking in to tuna sandwiches on homemade wholemeal bread. Bridget reminded Gil that Cathy would be serving an afternoon tea at four so she hadn’t packed a dessert. He could get an apple form the cafe if he was still hungry she added. He wasn’t.
“We seem to be making pretty good time” Bridget said as she topped up their mugs with more coffee from the flask.
“Yes we’re still ahead of schedule.” Maybe the fact that you’ve been breaking the speed limit for almost the entire journey had something to do with it, Gil thought to himself but wisely said nothing. “Another couple of hours and we should be there. I think you can afford to take it easy from now on, no need to bust a gut. Besides, it’ll give us time to enjoy the scenery, maybe we could stop and take a few photos.”
“Yes that’s a good idea. It’s years since we’ve been up this way. I wonder if we’ll remember it at all.”
“I doubt much has changed, well I certainly hope it hasn’t.”
“I think the farmhouse has though. I remember Mum showing me a letter from Celia a few years ago saying they’d had to extend to cope with John and Cathy’s growing brood. There was a photo as well and I can remember thinking how well it had been done. The new wing looked as if it had been there for ever.”
“I bet that set them back a bit then. Funny, I always thought there was no money in farming. Maybe they’ve had to diversify to bring in some extra income.”
“Well we’ll find out soon enough when we get there. Come on, let’s get going, I’m looking forward to taking some photographs. We may not get a chance later if John and Cathy have got things planned” Bridget added, putting their rubbish into a nearby bin.
After a brief detour to photograph the nearby Aysgarth falls, Gil and Bridget drove through the gates of the rather unimaginatively named Dale View Farm just before three thirty. The farmhouse had been a rectangular stone-built building under a slate roof but as they pulled up, the new extention came into view, which turned it into an “L” shape.
A border collie bounded across the courtyard to greet them and Gil was immediately reminded of Dottie, who he remembered playing with as a small boy. Maybe this dog was one of her descendants. He liked to think so.
“Down Bella!” said a sharp young voice that seemed to come from nowhere. Then from behind a tractor, the owner of the voice appeared. “Don’t mind Bella, her bark’s worse than her bite.”
“You must be George” Bridget said to a boy with a mop of dark, curly hair, relieved that she’d done her homework on the children.
“How did you know? I don’t think I’ve met you before” George replied, looking quizzically up at the stranger.
“No we’ve never met, but we are your dad’s cousins and we used to play together when we were about your age. I’m Bridget and this is my brother Gil.”
“Hello there young man” Gil said. “That’s a grand dog you’ve got there. Did you train her?”
“My dad did really, but I helped. She’s still very young and sometimes does naughty things but dad says she’s a quick learner.”
“I can see that” Gil replied. “You and your dad have taught her well.”
At that moment, the farmhouse door opened and John and Cathy rushed out to greet their visitors.
After hugs all round and exclamations of “you haven’t changed a bit” they were soon joined by Emma and Hattie, who unsurprisingly, were more interested in the snazzy little red sports car than in their visitors.
“I didn’t know you drove Bridget” said John, enviously eyeing Cindy’s sleek lines.
“Neither did I John until a few weeks ago!” Gil replied with a laugh. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“I’ll take you for a spin if you like” said Bridget, clearly relishing the attention Cindy was getting.
“You’re on” John replied “what I wouldn’t give to own a little roadster like that, but it’s a people carrier for me these days” he added with a sigh as he shepherded everyone towards the farmhouse.
Celia and Tom had clearly been hovering nearby as they came into the hallway as they heard the commotion. Although Celia was almost ten years younger than Sylvia, her resemblance to her sister was startling and always took Bridget’s breath away.
“Well look at you two” said Bridget, hugging her aunt and then her uncle. “You both look so well, I can’t believe you’ve been married for fifty years.”
“Sometimes it feels like a hundred years!” Celia replied with a twinkle in her eye. “But we’ve been very lucky, haven’t we love” she added, gazing up to her husband who nodded in agreement. “We’ve had a wonderful life together, not without its ups and downs of course, and we’ve been blessed with good health” she said, turning round to touch the hall table for luck.
“Don’t forget about
us Grandma” Hattie piped up from behind Celia’s flowing skirt. “You always say we keep you young.”
“Now who said that?” Celia replied, looking around, pretending she hadn’t spotted her granddaughter.
“Me, me!” Hattie exclaimed, jumping up and down.
“Now how could I forget my little princess!” Celia replied, stroking the little girl’s hair. “Come on now, let’s see what Mum’s got for tea shall we.”
Gil and Bridget followed the trio into the kitchen and gasped as they took in the changes that had been made since their last visit. Gone was the cosy farmhouse kitchen with its scrubbed pine table, mis-matched units and ancient Aga. The pair now found themselves in a kitchen-diner so large that for a few moments they almost lost their bearings.
Seeing their, confusion, Cathy came to the rescue. “This is part of the extension we had done a couple of years ago. We added two ensuite bedrooms above for the eldest two and through there” she said, indicating a door to her right “there’s a big utility come mud-room and a playroom.”
Although Bridget preferred the cosiness of the old kitchen she could see that the new layout was better suited to the needs of a growing family. “It’s amazing Cathy, there’s so much space.”
“Do you know Bridget, when all eight of us are in in here, I sometimes wish we’d made it a bit bigger!” Cathy replied with a hearty laugh.
“Eight?” Bridget replied “so who’s missing. Oh of course, the baby!”
“His lordship is taking a nap. I’ll pop up in a bit and bring him down, just let me get the kettle on first.”
“Oh I didn’t mean to rush you Cathy but you must let me know if there’s anything we can do.”
“That’s very kind of you Bridget but I think I’ve got it all under control for now thanks. I wouldn’t say no to a hand with the clearing up afterwards though. Sometimes I think the animals make less mess than the kids!”
Whilst Bridget and Cathy had been talking kitchens, Celia and Emma had slowly been filling up the huge island, which also served as a table, with a mouthwatering array of sandwiches and cakes, all beautifully arranged on vintage cake stands. Tom had assigned himself to bar duty and was busy opening the champagne. A man of few words, he was clearly happiest to be carrying out a task on his own, humming quietly as he carefully took out crystal champagne flutes from a cupboard. Gil and John sipped a beer as they looked on.
“Just a cup of tea for me love” Celia said as Tom began to carefully place the now full champagne glasses on to the island. “I might have a glass later but drinking at this time of day always gives me a headache and I don’t want to spoil a second of this wonderful afternoon.”
“I’m with you on that Celia” Bridget said. “I enjoy a couple of glasses of wine with an evening meal but for some reason drinking at this time of day has that effect on me too. I tend to nod off too and then I can’t sleep at night.”
At that moment, Cathy, who had popped upstairs to fetch baby Seth, returned to the kitchen with him in her arms. One cheek bright red from where he had been lying, he was clearly unimpressed at being woken from his slumbers. Cathy slid him into his highchair at the end of the island and selected some food she had made especially for him. “He’ll only eat Marmite sandwiches at the moment. I shouldn’t really indulge him as I don’t want him to become a fussy eater, but sometimes it’s easier to give in.”
“I don’t think indulging him now and again is going to do any harm” said Celia, beaming at her youngest grandchild. “No-one was fussier than John when he was a baby, but look at him now, he’ll eat anything.”
“What was that?” John asked as he handed Gil another beer.
“Nothing you haven’t heard before” his wife replied. “Come on everyone, tuck in, there’s enough here for an army so let’s get started” she added with a now familiar hearty laugh.
While everyone did indeed tuck in conversation turned to a variety of topics, including the revelation that not only was Bridget a driver but was also the proud owner of a car most people could only dream about.
Inevitably, the conversation eventually turned to the farm and the difficulties of making a decent living year after year. Even the reticent Tom became almost animated in his description of how farming had changed in his lifetime and how he worried for the next generation.
“But don’t forget Grandpa” said Emma earnestly. “I’m going to agricultural college when I leave school so the farm will be safe with me.” Tom’s eyes watered as he put his arm around his granddaughter. “I know it will pet, I know it will.”
Keen to lighten the mood, John explained the many ways they’d had to diversify over the years to keep them afloat. They’d recently started to keep bees, only ten hives at the moment but they were working to increase the number, and supplied several local cafes, restaurants and farm shops with their honey. Cathy, who had always been an excellent cook, helped out by making preserves, chutneys and ready meals, using their own produce, which again they sold locally.
“We’d love to have our own farm shop one day” Cathy said “but we’d need someone to run it and at the moment we just don’t have the capacity to spare anyone. Celia helps with the kids, well that’s an understatement if ever there was one as she’s an absolute godsend and I wouldn’t get anything else done if it wasn’t for her. Right Mam?”
“Oh I don’t know about that, I just love spending time with them” replied a blushing Celia. “I mean what grandparent worth their salt wouldn’t help their family out if they could, I just wish I was ten years younger and could help on the farm a bit more. Tom does what he can but he’s eighty next year so he’s not as agile as he used to be, are you love?”, she said, casting an adoring glance in her husband’s direction. As usual, Tom remained silent, simply nodding in agreement.
“Well I think you’ve all done wonders” Bridget said. “There can’t be much spare time for any of you, I don’t know how you do it day after day, I know I couldn’t.”
“You haven’t heard the best of it yet Bridget” John replied, stopping to put one of the golden cupcakes on his plate. “Mmm, these are seriously good by the way” he added through a mouthful of cake “you’ll have to give Cathy the recipe. Now where was I? Oh, yes, well as you can see there’s been a lot of changes since you were last here. But our biggest project so far has been converting some of the old outbuildings into holiday cottages. We’ve managed to get three up and running and have plans for a fourth. They’re a long-term investment of course so they’re not showing a profit just yet.”
“Ooh I’d love to have a look at them before we leave” Bridget replied. “I’m always on the lookout for ideas for our cottage in France.”
“No problem, we’d love to show them to you. We’ve got a family in one of them at the moment but the other two are empty. As you know, it’s the big day tomorrow so we’ll pop over the day after.”
“Can I ask what the plans are for tomorrow?” Gil asked “or is it top secret?”
“As there’ll be a crowd of us, we’ve got Cathy’s two brothers and their families coming over as well as a large group of friends and neighbours, we’re going to be very rustic and eat in the barn! There’s no need to look worried” John added, seeing Gil’s face fall. “It’s all been done out nicely and we’ve arranged for the chef from the Lamb and Flag in the village to do the catering for us, using our produce of course.”
“Well I think that’s a wonderful idea” said Bridget. “That’s far more practical than going out to a restaurant, besides, it’ll save you a fortune on taxis and a baby sitter for Seth.”
“Got it in one” Cathy replied. “Simon and his team will be waiting on as well so I don’t plan on doing a thing. Oh apart from getting myself all dolled up of course!”
“I’m sure you deserve it Cathy, especially after all the hard work you’ve put into this wonderful spread” Bridget replied.
“Well I think that calls for a toast” John said, climbing to his feet. “I’d just like
to say a quick thank you to my wonderful wife who has made my life complete. Not forgetting my three beautiful kids of course…”
“No it’s four Daddy, it’s four” Hattie shouted “you’ve forgotten about Seth!”
“Oh yes, so I have!” John said, clasping his hand to his mouth, pretending that he’d lost count of his offspring. “Thank you Hattie, I’m glad someone can count. And of course, none of this would have been possible if Dad hadn’t chatted up the beautiful young girl he met from down south all those years ago. So, before I get too sentimental, please raise your glasses to the family. The Bradleys and the Honeymans.”
“The Bradleys and the Honeymans!” the others chorused, clinking glasses.
“Well that was good timing. I think it’s time for this little man to climb the wooden hills” said Cathy as she lifted Seth out of his highchair. “Hattie, you’ve got another ten minutes, George, you’ve got twenty so if you’re half way through a game, now’s the time to finish off.” Ignoring cries of “but mu-um” Cathy picked up the baby’s hand to wave goodnight. “Oh that reminds me, the family in The Old Dairy asked for some milk and butter this morning, could you pop it round please Emma.”
“Oh, Mum, I’m just texting Chloe to tell her about tomorrow. Can I go in a bit - please?”
“They’ve been waiting all day so I’d like you to go now please” Cathy replied firmly.
“Why don’t I go” Bridget piped up. “I’m dying to get a look at your handiwork. Besides, I think I’ll take root if I don’t move myself soon.”
“That’s very kind of you Bridget. The milk’s in a blue jug in the big fridge next door” Cathy said, jerking her head towards the utility room. “There’s two packs of butter next to it. They’re in the middle of the three cottages across the courtyard, you’ll see their car parked outside. Oh their name’s Johnson by the way.”
