‘There used to be mobile home on here. I thought I’d build a barn where I can store a trailer and tractor, and see if I can get hold of a caravan.’
‘Not to live in,’ I say quickly. ‘That sounds top much like roughing it to me.’
‘No, for somewhere to keep warm and boil a kettle when the weather’s bad.’ He tips his head to one side. ‘A love nest, and then the rest of the time we can live just down the road in Talyton. There’s a house for rent opposite the church, if you’re interested.’ He pauses. ‘We can’t stay at your sister’s for ever. There’ll be work at Greenwood Farm for the lambing season, and I expect Murray will keep me on for the shearing, but after that, Emily will be back after her maternity break. Not only that, it would be good to have a home that’s more like our own.’
He’s right, I think. I moved into the annexe at the farm with Lewis, more by accident than design, when Ally Jackson signed the rental agreement on the shop, which effectively made me homeless. (My parents decided to hang on to the freehold for now.)
‘I’d love to get a place together,’ I say, leaning against him.
He slides his arms around my waist and gazes into my eyes.
‘I know you’ve said you’d never marry again, but is there any chance . . .?’he begins.
‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m sorry. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just don’t want the fuss, the ring and the piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything to me. I want us to stay just as we are.’
‘That’s okay,’ he says, touching his nose to mine. ‘I don’t mind as long as we’re together.’
‘You won’t expect me to do the farmer’s wife stuff like Emily does, getting up in the middle of the night?’
‘Maybe. You’ll be better at delivering lambs than I am – you have smaller hands.’ He holds my hand, turns it over in his and strokes my fingers. Sensing his desire, I look straight into his eyes.
‘I think I’d like you to take me back to bed,’ I whisper.
‘You are insatiable . . .’ He kisses my ear.
‘It is your birthday,’ I tease.
‘It feels like it’s my birthday every day.’ He hesitates. ‘I thought we were going to visit Rosemary.’
‘We can do that on the way back to the farm – if you’re sure.’ I try to get there at least twice a week. ‘She can be pretty peculiar. She doesn’t always remember family now, let alone anyone else.’ I bite my lip.
‘I won’t be offended.’
I link my arm through his and we return to the pick-up. Lewis drives to the nursing home, stopping at the shop on the way to buy Gran some sweets.
I choose mint humbugs, sherbet lemons and jellybeans. Ally, James’s mum, serves me, struggling to balance the scales as she pours the sweets into a paper bag. It doesn’t seem right seeing someone else behind the counter. The name of the shop – the Village News – hasn’t changed, but everything else about it feels as though it has.
‘How’s it going?’I ask her.
‘It’s been fun so far. Mind you, I thought it was going to be a whole lot easier to make money from newspapers, by selling and delivering them, than it is writing articles for the Chronicle. James is already threatening to strike over his pay.’ She smiles wryly. ‘I love my customers, though. They’re great, very loyal to your grandmother, and the shop. Wish Rosemary all the best from me, won’t you?’
I will,’ I say.
On my way out, I notice the headline on the Chronicle: ‘Sentenced for Assault on Ex-Girlfriend’, and a photo of Frank Maddocks’s son. So, he hasn’t been charged with animal cruelty, but he’s going to be locked up for some considerable time. I’m not sure it’s enough, but at least he’s being punished. His girlfriend and baby appear to have had a lucky escape.
Gran is looking physically well, sitting in her room at the old people’s home with the radio on and a book of crosswords that falls from her lap when I walk in to see her. I pick it up and flick through it. All the puzzles are blank. It’s too late to expect that solving clues and playing word-games can improve her memory. She has the photo of Granddad on the shelf above her commode and John’s letters in the drawer. I did get in touch with his family, but it wasn’t good news – he died a few months after his holiday in Talyton St George and I decided to let sleeping dogs lie, as Gran would have said. Some romances are best left in the past. The cuckoo clock is on the wall beside the bed, but the cuckoo is silent now, as if it’s retired to a quieter life behind its doors. I did suggest that we had it repaired, but my grandmother didn’t seem interested in the idea. I think even that was beyond her, her life having shrunk, contained and confined within these four walls.
Does she ever think about her family unless we are here in person? I don’t know. I don’t like to think about it too deeply.
‘Gran, do you remember Lewis, the shepherd?’ I ask as she peers into the bag of sweets and chooses a mint humbug, meaning that her capacity for speech is somewhat inhibited for a while. She nods.
‘We’re going to rent a house in Talyton St George along with some land.’
‘You’re a handsome young man,’ Gran says, and there’s the briefest flash of that wicked twinkle in her eye, and for that instant I can almost imagine she’s her old self.
I perch on the edge of the bed, giving Lewis a warning glance as he’s about to sit on the commode. ‘I’m not sure that will take your weight,’ I say, amused.
‘I’ll stand,’ he says. ‘Thank you for the compliment, Rosemary. You’re looking pretty, gorgeous yourself today.’
Gran’s attention returns to the sweets.
‘I reckon she’s locked us out,’ I say, looking up at Lewis. ‘That will be it for today.’ I steel myself to say farewell to this stranger, who looks like my grandmother, yet continues to grow less like her every time I see her. I stand up and kiss her on the cheek.
‘Goodbye,’ I mutter, not wanting her to see that I’m choked up with grief.
‘Goodbye, dear,’ she says, apparently unconcerned. ‘It must be teatime soon.’
‘Don’t ruin your appetite then,’ Lewis says, but I don’t think she gets it.
‘Thank you for coming with me,’ I say on the way home. ‘I’m glad we went. I feel better about it now. It was the right thing to do for both of us.’
‘She seems well looked after,’ Lewis agrees. ‘And you seem a lot less stressed. It was a tough decision, but the right one. Can you forgive yourself now?’ My forehead tightens when he continues, ‘It seems to me that you don’t have to beat yourself up about it any longer. As your gran might have said at one time, it’s all worked out for the best.’
On the way back, the landscape doesn’t appear quite so desolate beneath a flaming orange sky. Lewis stops the pick-up outside the rusted gate at the perimeter of the industrial estate to let the dogs out.
‘Are you sure about taking that on?’ I ask.
‘I’m sure. I can borrow a tractor and trailer from Murray to start clearing it over the winter, then I can plough and seed it so there’s grass for the summer. I have it all planned out.’ He reaches out for my hand and raises it to his lips. ‘You know, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s all a dream. You’ll have to pinch me.’
I pinch the spare fold of flesh at his waist.
‘Ouch, not that hard,’ he gasps, laughing. ‘Maybe I’m not dreaming after all.’
‘If you are, we’re living the same dream,’ I point out, looking towards the horizon, where the sun is sinking behind the hills, leaving the sky streaked with pink and grey clouds. ‘Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight.’
Lewis wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.
‘I know this sounds a bit cheesy, but you’re this shepherd’s delight,’ he says with a chuckle in his throat. ‘I love you and I want to live the same dreams with you for the rest of our lives.’
‘I love you too.’ I lean up to kiss him. ‘Now,’ I add as seductively as I can, ‘hurry up and take m
e home to bed.’
Other books by Cathy Woodman
Trust Me, I’m a Vet
Must Be Love
The Sweetest Thing
It’s a Vet’s Life
The Village Vet
Vets in Love
Country Loving
E-book only
The Three of Us
FOLLOW ME HOME
Pegasus Books LLC
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New York, NY 10004
Copyright © 2014 by Cathy Woodman
First Pegasus Books paperback edition 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine, or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other, without written permission from the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-60598-800-9
ISBN: 978-1-60598-801-6 (e-book)
Distributed by W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
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