‘Would you like to wear my Lightning McQueen watch?’ he asked solemnly, already unfastening the watch that was shaped like a red sports car.
I could have kissed him. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Here.’ He handed it over ceremoniously. ‘It’s my most favourite thing.’
Charlie beamed and gave me a thumbs-up sign.
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, strapping the plastic watch to my wrist. ‘Thank you, Ollie.’
‘Shall we get going then?’ said Charlie and I nodded.
‘Can you play Skylanders?’ Ollie piped up, to which I pulled a confused face and he rolled his eyes.
‘This is a bit like an ice-cream van, isn’t it, Freya?’ he continued. ‘Can we have an ice cream, Dad?’
Charlie’s eyes met mine and we burst out laughing. By the time we were strapped into the three front seats I’d relaxed. Today was going to be fun and it looked like I needn’t have worried about conversation, Ollie had enough for all of us.
Heaven. I tilted my face to the sunshine and grinned. It felt so good to be here, next to Charlie, his arm pressed against mine. I was not your helpless female type; I didn’t need a man to validate my existence or to protect me. I was perfectly capable of looking after myself. I opened one eye and peered at him. But a partner, someone to share life’s adventure with, well, I couldn’t think of anyone more perfect.
‘I thought you might not come back, you know.’ Charlie leaned forward and wiped my cheek. ‘Ice cream on your face,’ he tutted, ‘you’re as bad as Ollie.’
We were sitting side by side at a picnic bench, watching Ollie tear around a play area made from hay bales with a couple of other boys his age. It had been a beautiful spring day: bright sunshine for the most part, although a few grumpy-looking clouds had begun to assemble now, I noticed. Still, it was almost time to head back.
We’d walked around a castle, rowed across a lake, eaten bacon sandwiches cooked on Bobby’s diminutive hob (Ollie had been enthralled at the plastic crockery stowed into the little side cupboards) and demolished the last of Auntie Sue’s cake. Now we’d stopped off at a children’s playground and petting farm. And even though Charlie and I were still stuffed from lunch, Ollie had persuaded us to have an ice cream.
‘When I talked to you on the phone, you sounded, I don’t know, so full of the farm,’ said Charlie softly. ‘Telling me all about the calves, about that horse you’d been riding, that mate of yours, Lizzie … I was preparing myself for the worst. I was quite worried.’
‘You big softie.’ I nudged him in the ribs before biting into my cherry ice cream. ‘How could I stay away from you for too long? Besides, I think Shirley would have had something to say if I hadn’t turned up to work last week!’
Charlie popped the end of his ice-cream cone into his mouth and gave me a sheepish shrug. Bless him. ‘Will they be all right now, your aunt and uncle?’
‘Well, Ross has turned out to be a superhero,’ I chuckled. Not least to Lizzie, who had texted me daily with the Lovedale news, including all three dates so far with Ross. ‘But I worry about them. The farmhouse is lovely but it’s a time warp. What if one of them becomes ill? There’s no central heating upstairs, the only bathroom is on the middle floor and the stairs are really steep. What if one of them can’t get upstairs?’ I sighed and let my body slump against his. ‘I don’t know how to help them, really.’
‘Hey,’ Charlie pressed his lips to my temple, ‘it’s good that you care. It says a lot about you. But try not to worry today, OK. Today is about us. You and Ollie and me.’
‘I know,’ I said, leaning against him. He was right, I supposed. I was worrying about things that might never happen. Although that envelope with ‘final notice’ stamped across it was still niggling away at me.
‘You do understand, don’t you?’ said Charlie suddenly. ‘You understand why I’ve been cautious about doing this, the three of us? Anyone I bring into Ollie’s life has to be special.’
Charlie’s eyes searched mine and I found my vision sparkle as my eyes glittered with tears. Special. I nodded.
Right on cue, Ollie ran over to us with his arm outstretched, a long object clutched tightly in his hand, excitement animating every fibre of his body.
‘Dad! I think I’ve found a dinosaur bone.’
I gazed at the pair of them fondly as Charlie oohed and ahhed over Ollie’s find. It was a sheep bone. A tibia, probably. I used to find things like that all the time on the farm. My granddad had been a sheep farmer before Uncle Arthur changed to beef when he took over. But I kept my lips sealed – finding a dinosaur bone was a million times more exciting.
‘Ooh look, Ollie,’ I said as one of the staff strode past with an armful of bottles of milk. ‘I think they’re about to feed the lambs!’
Ollie tore off to the lamb pen, dinosaur bone abandoned at our feet.
‘Come on.’ I pulled Charlie to his feet. ‘Let’s go and watch. If Ollie gets picked to hold a bottle, we can take a photo of him.’
I smiled to myself; that would be a lovely way to end the day.
We strolled towards the animal pens, hand in hand, me still finishing my ice cream.
The animal handler had climbed into the pen and the lambs were bleating and jumping up at his legs. ‘Now, who would like to feed a lamb?’ the young man asked the assembled group of kids, whose hands shot up instantly.
There weren’t enough bottles to go round and the lad seemed to dither between Ollie and a little girl, unsure how to proceed without generating a fight or waterworks, or both.
‘It’s all right,’ said Ollie bravely, ‘this little girl can feed the lamb. I’ve already been on an adventure in Bobby and found a dinosaur bone.’
I couldn’t look at Charlie. My eyes filled with tears. Talk about proud, and he wasn’t even mine.
‘I know I’m biased, but he’s a great kid,’ Charlie whispered gruffly.
‘You’re allowed to be biased, he’s adorable,’ I said, wiping my fingers on a napkin and sneakily dabbing my eyes. ‘That ice cream was delicious but I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for a week.’
‘Mmm,’ said Charlie, pulling me in for a kiss, ‘your lips are freezing, but yes, I agree, delicious.’
‘Anyway,’ I shot him a sideways glance, ‘I’ll be the same with my babies.’
He blinked at me and scratched his nose.
‘Biased, that is,’ I added, just to make sure he’d made the connection.
I swallowed and was suddenly aware of my breath rattling in my chest. I’d said it. Put it out there. Broaching the subject of kids hadn’t been on my agenda, but standing here, watching Ollie and seeing Charlie’s adoring face, gave me a sudden longing for my own family.
And as today seemed to be a tipping point in our relationship, testing his response suddenly seemed important.
I waited. Waited for his expression to change, to become more serious, to gaze at me and make some comment about our kids.
‘Babies. Plural,’ he chuckled, removing his arm from round my waist as Ollie came running back, shouting something about ducklings. ‘One’s quite enough for me. Whoa!’ The little boy launched himself at his dad and the two of them collapsed in laughter.
The sun disappeared behind a cloud momentarily and I looked up at the sky.
People change. They do. They definitely change. Some men even have the snip, they’re so adamant that they’re not up for fatherhood, only to have it reversed when Mrs Right walks into their life. Fact. I’d seen it on a documentary about childbirth.
I dropped my gaze to the dusty ground as first one fat raindrop, then another and another made dark spots on the dry earth.
‘Time to call it a day, I think,’ said Charlie. ‘Come on, fella, let’s get you back to Mummy’s.’
The three of us walked back to the campervan, more weary now, as gathering clouds marked the end of our perfect day.
Chapter 10
Lunchtime at our little café was typically a noisy affair and t
oday was no exception; there was only one tiny window table free and Shirley, Becky (the part-timer who did the lunchtime shift while her kids were at school) and I were frothing, chopping and microwaving like nobody’s business. Our clientele, as usual, was a mix of mums chatting over lattes and paninis, their offspring banging spoons on highchair trays and catapulting food on passing waitresses (i.e. me), retired couples sharing a sandwich (I always added extra crisps when Shirley wasn’t looking), assorted local residents and one or two people from the allotment.
‘One leek and bacon jacket potato and a mug of tea.’ I grinned at Dougie as I set his order in front of him. He was one of the allotment regulars, an elderly Jamaican with grizzled dreadlocks poking out from beneath a battered sailor’s hat. I liked Dougie, who had a twinkle in his eye and a soft spot for Shirley, often bringing her gifts from his plot. She appreciated the vegetables but wasn’t so keen on his wandering hands.
He tipped his face up and stared at me. ‘You’ve got some colour in your cheeks today. You been on holiday?’
‘My freckles have joined up, you mean?’ I laughed, holding my white arm up against his. ‘I’ve been to my uncle and aunt’s farm. I spent all my time outside. I think I’m weather-beaten rather than tanned. Plenty of fresh air, though.’
‘Suits you,’ said Dougie, turning his attention to his lunch.
‘Thanks,’ I said, moving away. Fresh air suits everyone, I reckoned.
I tucked my hands in the front pocket of my black apron and looked around me for a second. It was good to be back at the café and quite a relief to be busy. Taking orders, toasting paninis, making coffees … It took a surprising amount of skill and timing to keep customers happy. And while I was rushed off my feet, it stopped me thinking about my conversation with Charlie.
I sighed and turned my gaze to the street outside the window.
Surely it must have crossed his mind that I might one day want children, and that saying he categorically didn’t want any more would have an on impact on our relationship? Or perhaps men didn’t think that way. And perhaps I was over-analysing. I shook myself. I was at it again – thinking.
‘Can I get you anything else?’ I asked two mums whose latte glasses were empty.
‘Actually, I ordered a croissant?’ said the taller one with a head of wild, curly black hair.
‘Freya!’ shouted Shirley. ‘Have you left something in the microwave? I can smell burning.’
‘Eek! Sorry, yes!’ I darted round the back of the counter and yanked open the door of the microwave and stared at the croissant. At least, it had been a croissant; it was now a wizened smoking lump, reminiscent of a piece of leftover bonfire toffee.
‘I’ll do you a fresh one,’ I called to the mum, who smiled and nodded. Shirley planted herself next to me and my shoulders slumped under the weight of her stare.
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I’m a bit distracted for some reason.’
Today’s big news: the Case of the Caramelized Croissant. It suddenly dawned on me what the problem with this job was: even the biggest dilemma I faced was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Help, there’s no skimmed milk! Oh no, I’m not sure if the coleslaw is gluten-free! Whoops, I’ve cremated a croissant!
Compare these benign four walls to the 150 acres that Uncle Arthur and Auntie Sue had to shepherd on a daily basis with all the issues that go with it: an unexpected storm damaging crops, a fox getting into the chicken pen and leaving five of Auntie Sue’s hens dead and strewn across the grass (which sadly happened while I was there), a poorly calf … My job at the café suddenly seemed so trivial.
‘TBH, love, you’ve been distracted since you got back after Easter.’ Shirley bent forward to peer into my face.
I puffed out my cheeks. ‘I know, I’ll snap out of it, I promise.’
‘This might cheer you up, look – your friend Tilly has just walked in. I’ll do the croissant.’
I was over at Tilly’s side in a flash and hugged her tight.
‘Hey, you,’ she giggled, as I nearly knocked her over with my exuberance. ‘I always forget what a ball of energy you are.’
‘Well, get you and your suntan!’ I stood back and examined her at arm’s length. What a transformation from the pale-faced, anxious girl I’d met last winter.
‘You have to go the Galápagos Islands, that’s an order,’ said Tilly, sitting down at the only free table and scanning the menu. ‘Hi, Dougie!’ She waved to her fellow allotmenteer. ‘Soup and a roll, please. Ooh and a pot of tea.’
I couldn’t help but grin; her happiness was contagious. Whatever she was on, I’d like some, please. ‘We don’t usually see you in here during school time.’
‘I know. But I haven’t been food shopping since I got back and today’s school dinner didn’t appeal.’
I ladled the soup of the day into a bowl, added a brown roll to the plate, made her a pot of tea and set the whole lot in front of her.
‘I’m glad to see you so perky, I must admit,’ I said quietly. ‘I thought you’d be really miserable. Haven’t you left Aidan to finish his filming?’
Tilly nodded, her forehead furrowing in concentration as she buttered her roll.
‘This is my brave face. I only got back at the weekend and I’m still riding high from our two weeks together. Quite frankly, I don’t know how I’ll cope without him for four days, let alone four weeks.’
I made a soothing noise and squeezed her shoulder. I felt the same about Charlie; I’d missed him even during my few days at the farm.
Then she beamed at me. ‘But looking on the bright side, when he does come back we’re moving in together. So I’m going to start looking at houses while he’s away.’
‘Wow. I mean, wow!’ I stammered. ‘That’s amazing.’
‘I know it’s fast.’ She shrugged, her cheeks turning pink. ‘But we had plenty of time to talk when we were away. And when someone’s right, you just know. No point hanging around.’
‘Absolutely.’ I swallowed.
‘Freya!’ Shirley shouted.
‘Coming.’ My heart plummeted; what had I incinerated this time?
‘Your mobile phone is vibrating in your bag. Can you turn it off, please?’ Shirley gave me her stern look.
‘Sorry. Again.’ I winced at my boss. At least it had been on silent. I rummaged in my handbag and glanced at the screen, intending to reject the call and turn the phone off completely. My heart thumped. I didn’t recognize the number but the area code was familiar.
‘It’s a Lake District phone number.’ I whirled and gave Shirley my best pleading look. ‘Do you mind? It might be important.’
Shirley rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘Go on then.’
I accepted the call. ‘Hello?’
‘Oh, lass … I’m … It’s your Auntie Sue calling, from the hospital. Uncle Arthur’s had a heart attack.’
For a second the café swam out of focus. My knees gave way and I sagged forward across the counter, knocking a stack of dirty plates as I did so. Goosebumps appeared all over my bare arms and along my spine, and a whooshing noise filled my ears.
‘Oh my God.’ I pressed my free hand to my forehead. Shirley frowned at me with concern. ‘Is he …? Will he be OK?’
‘Now, I don’t want you to panic,’ Auntie Sue said and then promptly burst into tears.
Between the two of us both sobbing down the line I managed to establish that it had all happened this morning at breakfast time, thankfully, before he had had a chance to leave the farmhouse. He’d suddenly gone pale and clammy, sunk down on to a chair and pressed his hand to his chest. Despite him saying it was probably nothing, Auntie Sue had called an ambulance straight away. Paramedics had confirmed he was having a heart attack and now he was in hospital, hooked up to wires and monitors.
‘I’ve never been more terrified in my life, Freya,’ she sobbed.
‘Oh, Auntie Sue, you poor thing. Please don’t cry, you’re making me cry.’
‘What if they can’t save him? I
won’t know what to do with myself.’
‘You mustn’t think like that. Give him my love and I promise, I’ll come and visit as soon as I can.’
We ended the call arranging to speak as soon as the results of Uncle Arthur’s tests came through.
‘This was exactly what I was worried about,’ I wept into Shirley’s chest after she had bustled me into the tiny store room at the back of the café. Tilly had joined us and both of them were doing their best to console me. Shirley tightened her grip around my shoulders and was making soft shushing noises into my hair, while Tilly held my hand and was stroking my arm.
‘I don’t know how they’re going to cope,’ I said, taking a tissue from Shirley. ‘Auntie Sue can’t even drive.’
‘At least he’s alive,’ Tilly pointed out, giving me a weak smile. ‘And he’s in the best place.’
‘Yes, and now he’s been diagnosed, he’ll be put on the right drugs to keep it from happening again,’ Shirley assured me.
‘Buggeration!’ Tilly looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got to get back to school.’
I released myself from Shirley’s clutches and gave her a hug. Tilly dashed off, leaving me with my boss. We looked at each other for a long moment.
Shirley sighed. ‘How about I give you some time off, unpaid, while you go up there and see what’s what?’
I could have kissed her. In fact, I did kiss her. ‘Are you sure?’ I sniffed. ‘Thank you. I could tell Auntie Sue wanted me to come but I didn’t like to ask as I’ve only just got back.’
‘We can manage here between us. Anyway, you deserve it. You came to my rescue when I broke my ankle and I’ll always be grateful for that. And it’ll be peace of mind for your auntie. Go on, why don’t you get yourself home?’
Anna was there on the doorstep waiting for me when I got back.
‘Mum called me from the café,’ she murmured, pulling me in for a hug.
‘Bless her. Your mum is the best boss ever. Fact.’ I swallowed down another sob.
‘I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?’ Anna asked. ‘Shall I book a train ticket while you pack?’
I shook my head. ‘Thanks, but I’m going to drive.’
Appleby Farm Page 8
