‘I’d just spotted you, so I thought I’d get the drinks in. Come on, you lot, grab a tea,’ Tom offered, holding out four polystyrene cups. ‘There are two cups with sugar and two without; I couldn’t remember what everyone had.’
Tom had registered Paddy in his categories and after filling up his water drinker had hurried back over to us via the tea stand.
Lucinda finished arranging her cakes on the table and after serving a couple more customers declared herself on a much deserved five-minute break.
‘Here you go, choose yourself a cupcake; there are three left on the cake stand.’
‘No, there’s only two left now,’ I corrected.
‘There were three,’ she said, puzzled.
‘Who’s pinched a cupcake?’
We all looked at each other and then turned back to Tom immediately.
Guilt flickered in his eyes.
‘It wasn’t me, your honour!’ Tom began laughing.
‘Stop right there! I think the white coating around your lips is very much a giveaway,’ I said, laughing.
‘Busted!’ Robin grinned.
Lucinda tutted and wagged her finger playfully towards him.
‘You’re terrible!’ I said.
There’s no denying at that very moment in time I felt like I belonged. So far it had been a grand morning; I was really enjoying myself. If only my parents could see how far I’d come, they would be proud.
‘Robin, how’s Jeannie?’ I asked.
‘Not too good to be honest. Every time she moves, she’s sick. We suspect she has a severe case of food poisoning.’
Suddenly I felt a little guilty. There was my friend lying in bed, too sick to move, and I’d been busy flirting with Tom.
Our conversation was interrupted by a voice that boomed out over the crackling tannoy. ‘The chicken show is about to begin. Please make your way over to the show tent. The judging will commence in exactly five minutes’ time.’
Immediately the footsteps of the exhibitors could be heard thundering across the field towards the tent.
‘Lucinda, we’ll catch you after the show,’ I called before being dragged along with the crowd and herded towards the tent.
‘Good luck, everyone,’ she shouted after us.
‘Are you ready for this?’ Robin grinned at me.
‘As ready as I ever will be.’
All around the edge of the tent there were metal cages, perching on top of trestle tables, enclosing magnificent birds of all different breeds that were more pruned and better looked after than I was!
The cages had been separated into different categories, and there was Paddy peering back at us from behind the bars alongside all the other chickens that were entered in the ‘best in show’ category.
There was already a group of eagerly awaiting exhibitors sitting on the rows and rows of wooden church-like pews laid out in the middle of the tent.
At the front of the tent was the judges’ table covered in a crisp white tablecloth, with three chairs in a line behind it. Three glasses of water mirrored the chairs, placed next to the judges’ names.
We all scanned the crowd and then Tom pointed to a spare bench slap bang in the middle of everyone. We dashed towards the empty seats and settled ourselves down, waiting in anticipation for the results to be revealed. The judges were dressed in white coats and resembled the staff at the local hospital; it all seemed very serious and official.
Inside the tent the poultry farmers were all of a certain age and calibre, with the exception of Tom and Robin, who were miles younger than the rest. A group of them were standing in a huddle at the rear of the tent, poised with their hands clasped behind their backs, waiting for the judges to begin. They all appeared to be wearing the same attire: nattily unkempt tweed jackets, flat caps and green wellington boots.
Abruptly, one of the judges hammered on the table with his fist to attract everyone’s attention. One and all in the tent stopped talking and looked up towards where the judges were sitting. Several shushes could be heard all around us. The judges went through numerous categories, announcing the winners, and applause rang out from the onlookers. There was a prize for each winner along with a hefty handshake from the judges, which was followed by the proud pinning of rosettes onto their clothing; each one was worn with pride.
The final category was upon us, the one we had been sitting there waiting for all this time. It was time for the cream of the crop to be revealed. Whose rooster would be crowned the ultimate bird? The time had come to announce the ‘best in show’.
It was at this moment I glanced towards the front of the tent. ‘Wow! Look at that rooster – he’s stunning! What type of breed is he?’ I enquired, pointing to a cage that was situated very near to the judges’ table.
‘That would be a Norfolk Grey and that would also be Bert, direct competition for Paddy.’ Robin winked at me.
‘He’s yours?’
‘He certainly is,’ he replied smugly.
‘May the best bird win!’ Tom chipped in.
‘What are our chances next to Bert?’ I whispered in Tom’s ear.
‘Very good. Relax, it’ll be fine.’
The judge stood up behind the table; the tent was now in complete silence. My heart was beating in double time. Slowly opening the envelope, the judge pulled out the card and paused.
The gentleman sitting directly in front seemed very agitated; he was shuffling in his seat and could be heard muttering ‘hurry up.’ I watched another farmer frantically pacing up and down in front of the cages.
Scrunching my eyes closed, I waited for the result.
‘And the winner of the best in show goes to Kitty Lewis and her Buff Orpington rooster Paddy.’
Tom sprang to his feet cheering and whooping.
I opened my eyes and blinked. ‘Did he just say Kitty Lewis?’ I needed clarification.
‘You’ve won, you’ve won!’ Tom’s lovely smile lit up his face.
‘Kitty Lewis, if you are in the show tent please come up and collect your prize,’ the judge requested.
I was dumbfounded.
Tom had done all the hard work, pampering Paddy, getting him in tip-top condition for the show; I couldn’t even catch him, and there was Tom registering me as the owner.
Wide-eyed in amazement, I looked to Tom for guidance – he was beaming with pride.
‘Congratulations! Go on, go and retrieve your prize.’ He gestured in the direction of the judges.
Stumbling towards the front of the tent, I stepped over numerous feet and felt plentiful pats on the back whilst I made my way through the crowd. Pinning a rosette with the words ‘first prize’ to my coat, I couldn’t help but beam at the judges as they shook my hand one by one. Paddy too had a first-prize rosette pinned to the front of the cage; he appeared to be taking it all in his stride. ‘That’s a champion you have there, Kitty – make sure you look after him.’
I was so overwhelmed, I was speechless, but I could feel the wide smile stretching out across my face. Returning to my seat clasping a bottle of wine and a voucher for a year’s free supply of chicken food for Paddy, I sat back down.
‘Well done you! I’ve been beaten by a novice,’ Robin said, laughing.
‘I feel like a fraud – I didn’t do anything, you did it all,’ I whispered to Tom.
‘We all have to start somewhere – don’t worry about it. Now speech, speech,’ Tom insisted, smiling.
Theatrically, I dabbed my eyes, laughing. ‘Thank you to all those who have supported me.’
‘Stop there! Stop rubbing my nose in it!’ Robin grinned.
‘Ahhh, look at you beaming with pride.’ Lucinda came strolling towards us and gave me a rib-crushing hug. ‘Your very first rosette, congratulations! Where are you going to pin it?’
Pausing for a moment, I took a breath. ‘I think I’m going to pin it next to all Dotty’s rosettes in Grandma Agnes’s office.’
‘That sounds like a fantastic idea. Talking of Dotty, has s
he turned up yet? She’s always been a familiar fixture, pecking around the Lodge. It’s not the same without her.’
‘No she hasn’t.’ Tom sighed. ‘It’s been twenty-one days now and counting.’
‘Do you think it’s down to the fox?’ asked Robin.
‘More than likely,’ he replied sadly.
‘Let’s go and release Paddy back at the yard and then who’s for a quick celebration drink down the pub?’ I asked, attempting to lift the mood back up.
‘Me, me, me!’ That was a resounding yes.
‘And no gin and tonic for you,’ Tom said, and grinned in my direction.
‘Sounds like an excellent plan. I just need to pack up the table at the cake stall. I’ve sold every last crumb,’ Lucinda proudly declared. ‘It won’t take me two minutes to load up the car. I’ll meet you all back at the pub.’
‘Yes, OK, we’ll just go and drop off the champion and see you there.’
Travelling back to the Lodge with Tom, I was feeling happy. Granted, I knew deep down I wasn’t a worthy winner; I hadn’t done a thing, but it was lovely of Tom to let me take the credit. As he drove the van towards the Lodge, he pulled up and waited in front of the gate and left the engine revving.
‘I’ll undo the lock,’ I said, jumping out of the van and bounding towards the gate.
‘1507,’ Tom called after me.
I waved my hand above my head. Yes, I know, I thought. I’m not going to forget my own birthday in a hurry.
Swinging the gate open so Tom could drive the van through, I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope on my birthday this year. For as long as I could remember I’d spent it with Mum, but in a way I was looking forward to the summer months at the Lodge with my new friends. It would keep me busy.
There was no denying I had had the most enjoyable day yet, but there were sporadic moments when my thoughts flicked to Jeannie and Tom and the night of the date. I’d had so much fun with Tom and every time I thought of them together, waves of emotion flooded through my body. Why did I feel such envy and sadness? I needed to control these feelings and fast. If I wasn’t careful, the way I felt could affect all of my new friendships, not to mention potentially placing a massive strain on the professional working relationship at the Lodge. The Lodge was my new lifeline, and if I didn’t have that I would be left with nothing. If Jeannie and Tom felt an attraction towards each other, there was nothing I could do about it except try and learn to accept it, however difficult that may be.
Glancing up towards the top of the drive, I froze.
‘Tom, Tom, look,’ I squealed at the top of my voice, pointing towards the grass verge. Immediately Tom looked up. A wide grin spread across his face.
‘Well would you believe it?’ he shouted back to me. There, waddling in front of us, was Dotty, with six little chicks following their mother hen.
‘Dotty’s a mum!’ I squealed in delight.
‘She certainly is and that’s why she’s been missing. She must have been sitting on her eggs. What a lovely surprise!’
Chapter Nineteen
Spring was certainly a busy time down at the Lodge – the work seemed to have doubled overnight. Not only was Dotty a new mother but so were half of the other chickens. The older chickens needed to be rehoused into the bottom paddocks, the point-of-lay chickens moved up to the next fields and all the new mother hens with their chicks needed to be segregated into their own little coops.
Egg production was at full capacity. I’d never seen so many eggs. They were all different shapes and sizes and the range of colours was truly spectacular.
The activity within the yard at the Lodge had also increased. The accounts were certainly showing that there had been a surge in profits and this was the ideal opportunity to hire more staff. So Tom had taken on a number of temporary farmhands to help us with the everyday running of the place. One of the barns had been converted into a makeshift shop that sold free-range eggs and fresh grown produce from the farm during the warmer months. Lucinda kindly baked scones and flapjacks, which she dropped off early in the morning, and her scrumptious baking always sold out within a matter of minutes. Visitors arrived at what seemed like every minute of the day. I couldn’t believe how much this place had come alive in a matter of weeks.
Each year for as long as Tom could remember there had always been an annual Easter-egg hunt held at the Lodge for all the local families. It was an occasion everyone looked forward to. Bluebell Lodge was perfect with its stunning backdrop and was certainly an ideal place for Easter fun and games. Lucinda in recent years had offered to make all the mouth-watering chocolate eggs for the children single-handedly. Whilst chatting one morning on her early-morning delivery, she explained to me it was essential to temper the chocolate. I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about until she enlightened me to the fact that this was a method of heating and cooling the chocolate for moulding. The heating and cooling separated the cocoa solids and ensured the set chocolate would have a high gloss and smooth finish. It all sounded very complicated to me. I was relieved my only job would be to write the clues for the Easter-egg hunt.
Everyone was hoping for a clear spring day. Amongst the famous bluebells there was also an opportunity for the visitors to handle the newborn chicks. Conker the Shetland pony was also on hand to provide rides around the field. He was always a firm favourite amongst the children. Tom would also be revving the tractor’s engine, and for the adults there was always the Pimm’s tent. Hours of fun could still be had after all the chocolate had been found. I was really looking forward to it, although as this was my first proper event at the Lodge, it was all a little daunting, but I knew I could do it. Tom was fantastic, encouraging me every step of the way. This was an ideal opportunity to introduce myself to more of the locals and the ones I’d met so far had made me feel so welcome, I was settling in well.
I was grateful that the Lodge had come into my life when it did because I hadn’t a clue what I would be doing right now or where I would have ended up otherwise. I’d begun to learn all the ropes at the Lodge and there was only one thing left on my agenda to improve and that was my social life. Since Jeannie had been ill from her episode of food poisoning, she had never seemed to fully recover. She’d promised me on numerous occasions we would enjoy a bite to eat together or travel to the next town to watch a film at the picture house, but always at the very last minute she would cancel. Usually it was due to tiredness, and Robin confirmed that she would indeed take herself off to bed at every opportunity. Before Jeannie went off sick, her job was very manual and some days I wasn’t sure how she managed to shift all those bales of hay; she made it look so easy. I couldn’t even lift one on my own, never mind haul it onto my shoulders and carry it to the bottom fields. Maybe she was working too hard. Since her return Tom had been fussing around her all the time, making sure she was OK. The temporary farmhands were worth their weight in gold and until Jeannie was fully back on her feet, Tom put a ban on her lifting anything, unless it was a mug of tea.
On Saturday morning at 8 a.m., Bluebell Lodge was beginning to be crammed with all things Easter. Easter bunting hung from every corner of the yard and trestle tables lined the outskirts of the long driveway, which was adorned with bluebells dancing in the light breeze. The Pimm’s tent had been erected in the first field.
Conker looked dapper. Not only had Jeannie hosed him down and brushed every scrap of mud from his body, she had entwined fabric daisies around his headband.
‘You look nice, Kitty!’ Jeannie said, bustling past me, placing a tray of home-made scones down on one of the tables before she wandered back over in Tom’s direction.
‘Thank you,’ I said, smiling.
It had taken me nearly an hour this morning to decide on my outfit; it was such a difficult choice. The weather was in that in-between stage: it wasn’t quite warm enough to mill about in just a T-shirt, but on the other hand it was too warm to wear a thick jumper or coat. I wasn’t sure a dress would be a roaring success if
I had to plod around the fields leading Conker whilst the children rode on his back. In the end I plumped for a floral blouse with blue jeans and my new pair of wellington boots.
I caught sight of Tom up the ladder, pinning bunting across the front of the office. Jeannie was holding the long stream of flags for him and passing them up in stages. Robin had just arrived in his van and waved over in my direction. All hands were on deck.
Tom looked completely at ease, taking everything in his stride. He always seemed happy; I could see him laughing with Jeannie as he threw his head back. His hair was a little longer, his fringe flopping in front of his eyes and he would often push it to one side. He had the beginnings of a beard and his face was a little tanned in the springtime sun. He was simply gorgeous. Feeling my pulse quicken and goosebumps rising to the surface of my skin, I felt myself blush. Since that night in the pub, I’d tried to block any feelings I’d had for Tom out of mind. I valued the friendship of both him and Jeannie and I really didn’t need to complicate matters any further.
I’d thought about blurting it out on many occasions, but what was I thinking? I’d been hurt enough in the last year and I knew the feeling of grief wasn’t quite the same, but I didn’t want the risk of rejection too. Tom had made it obvious that he was attracted to Jeannie so there was no need to embarrass any of us. At that moment, Tom looked over in my direction and smiled. I smiled back and went about hiding the chocolate eggs all around the Lodge. Once the bunting was firmly attached, Tom climbed down the ladder and he and Jeannie bounded across in my direction.
‘The Easter-egg hunt will begin at 10 a.m. Will you be OK to say a few words, Kitty?’
‘You want me to say a few words?’
‘It’ll be over quickly, it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘But you’re still running the place,’ I insisted.
‘Yes, I know, but you’re the owner, and with most of the village coming over today, it’ll be the ideal opportunity to introduce yourself to everyone.’
I wasn’t feeling very confident. I’d never addressed an audience before, but I was sure I could manage a quick introduction and declare the Easter-egg hunt well and truly open. Jeannie squeezed my arm and gave me a sympathetic look. ‘You’ll be absolutely fine.’
Kitty's Countryside Dream Page 11
