I climbed up the steep steps on the second floor that led up to the loft. Dad had said he thought Mum’s boxes were in the back corner near to the pile of childhood books I couldn’t bear to part with. I climbed up there and moved past old Christmas decorations and a dustbin bag filled with old teddy bears. I crouched down and moved a box out of the way spotting two plastic boxes each labelled ‘research’ on them. Next to them was a box of books. I couldn’t help but grab all three. I would love to read Harry the books I had loved as a child.
I was exhausted by the time I had brought the boxes down from the loft, they were heavy and cumbersome. At the bottom of the stairs, I knelt on the carpet and opened the lid of one of the plastic boxes. Inside it were journals, books, typed sheets of paper with Mum’s thoughts written on them, a box containing her passion for research. I picked up a journal and touched it. She had been determined to write a local history book, it was so tragic that she’d had to leave us before she had finished it.
Underneath the journal was a brown envelope. I picked it up, turning it over, and I let out a gasp when I saw who it was addressed to in my mother’s handwriting.
For Heather. On your wedding day.
* * *
Rory met me by my car when I returned to the farm after having driven home from Glendale in a stunned state. He was in baggy jeans and a green jumper, boots on his feet, unshaven as always. Yes, it looked scruffy as Stewart had pointed out but it was practical for work, and it just suited him. ‘I was getting worried,’ he said when I got out.
‘I’m sorry.’ I reached for him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me by my waist, staggering a little in surprise. His jumper was soft and cosy, and his arms around me were strong. ‘I’m so happy to be home.’
‘Has something happened?’
I pulled back to see him frowning with concern. ‘A lot. But I’m okay. Will you help me bring this stuff inside, and I’ll tell you everything?’ I let him go and opened the boot. We carried in the boxes between us, putting them on the table in the kitchen.
‘Mummy!’ Harry came in then, followed by my dad, holding a chocolate coin that appeared to be smeared over every inch of his face.
‘Hi, darling,’ I said, lifting him up on the table and holding his outstretched hand with mine. ‘I missed you.’
‘Look,’ he said, holding up the half-eaten coin for me to see.
‘What a treat,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Someone found the Christmas chocolate,’ Rory explained dryly, grabbing a cloth to clean his face. ‘What’s all this then?’ he asked as my dad peered in the boxes with interest.
‘This is my mum’s Glendale research. I’m hoping there’s something in here that might help us push back on Stewart’s plans, something about the land around here we can use. We have to stop him somehow,’ I replied fiercely. I explained that he had proposed holiday cottages in the lower field. ‘They would be right on top of our land.’
Rory sighed as he sat down. ‘I was afraid of that. We’d have to put fences up otherwise the cows could wander into the hotel, or worse the guests onto our farm.’ He shuddered at the idea of tourists on our farm, and I couldn’t help but smile.
‘The cows would hate it,’ I said then, thinking about how I would feel if after roaming where I wanted, I was suddenly shut in.
‘I’m still not used to you talking about cows,’ my dad said with a chuckle. ‘When you were a teenager, we were worried you’d get a Vitamin D deficiency with how long you spent reading in your bedroom.’
I smiled. ‘My tan from this summer has still not fully faded, all the time I spent outside on the farm,’ I said. ‘Things have definitely changed.’ I glanced at my son who was finishing his chocolate happily, and messily. ‘I won’t have to worry about Vitamin D with this one.’
‘He’s going to have such a lovely childhood growing up on a farm. I’m quite envious when I think about mine spent in Inverness. I don’t think I even saw a cow until I was a teenager.’
‘And Mum was the same, wasn’t she?’ I asked, looking at her boxes. I never tired of hearing about my mother’s life. Now she wasn’t around to ask things, I would always try to get Dad talking about her.
He nodded. ‘Her family lived just around the corner, we went to the same school. She longed to live in the countryside though. That’s why we came to Glendale after we got married. I always regretted not being able to give her a bigger home with more of a garden although you know your mum, she never complained.’
‘I wonder what she would have made of this place,’ I said.
‘She would have loved it.’ He opened one of the notebooks. ‘Your mum went all out, didn’t she? I remember how excited she used to get looking through the old history books, she was such a history buff.’
‘Let’s hope she found something that might help us,’ Rory said.
‘I think she will have done,’ I said. I felt confident. There had to be a reason for all her work. It couldn’t have all been in vain. I thought of the envelope I had found addressed to me, which was now tucked into my bag. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about it just yet. I needed to think about whether I wanted to read it or not. It was, after all, written for my wedding day, something I had been so against thinking about knowing she’d never be part of it. Now it seemed she had written me a letter so she could be part of it in some way. And I had no idea what to do. Should I open it now or not? It was too much to think about on top of everything going on at the farm so I tried to push it to the back of my mind. ‘Caroline said the council have six weeks to make a decision on Stewart’s plan so we have some time. He’s leaving Glendale for Christmas so we need to come up with something while he’s away.’
‘I think we’re going to need coffee,’ Dad said, walking into the kitchen.
‘Are you sure about not working with him, about staying on here?’ Rory asked me casually then, wiping Harry again as he finished the chocolate. He didn’t meet my eyes. I now realised that Rory did worry about things, maybe not as much as me, not many people did, but when things mattered to you then how could you not? I hadn’t been very fair to him the past week.
Laying a hand on his arm, I said, ‘The one good thing about him coming here is that he’s made me see how much I have in my life that I love, and want to protect. I’m sorry that he’s come here, and I’m going to do all I can to make him leave us alone again. Nothing is more important than you and this little one, and our home.’
‘And you,’ he added. He brushed my lips with his. ‘We’re a team. I want to support you in anything you want, you know that, right? We protect all of this together.’
‘I know,’ I assured him. ‘I have been so anxious,’ I said, feeling the tears rising up in my eyes then. ‘I want to get everything right.’ I looked at Harry, wishing that I could stop worrying that I would fail him.
Rory wrapped an arm around me. ‘Loving us the way you do is getting it right. Nothing else matters but that.’ His words broke me and despite never wanting to cry in front of them, I did. Instantly I felt relief from not holding back, from letting out how I was feeling. I couldn’t be perfect, no one could, but I could love them, and they could love me back. ‘It’s all going to be okay,’ he soothed me, pulling me close. I felt Harry’s hand around my leg as he sat on the table watching us. I reached for him with my other arm, holding him against me. Turning, I saw my dad watching us with a smile, and through my tears, I smiled back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
On Christmas Eve Eve, Beth, Drew and Izzy came out to the farm for dinner.
‘It was like the apocalypse in the supermarket today,’ Beth said when I passed her a glass of wine in the living room. Small, gentle snowflakes had begun to float down outside the window. ‘We barely made it out alive.’
‘Mum elbowed a woman out of the way to get to the last Christmas pudding,’ Izzy said from her position cross-legged on the floor, stroking Tabby the cat who was asleep in front of the crackling fire.
&nb
sp; ‘I’m shocked, Beth,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Where’s your Christmas spirit?’
‘It’s fully intact here by the fire with my wine and my family but that place is enough to turn anyone into Scrooge. I went so crazy I bought five tubs of Quality Street. Five!’ She shook her head, her long wavy hair bouncing. ‘Thank goodness we have everyone coming for Christmas lunch because there’s enough food for about fifty, I think.’
‘We might get snowed in though so it was probably a good idea to stock up,’ Drew said. The weather forecast was predicting a white Christmas and if it continued falling as it was now, I could well believe it would happen.
‘As long as it lets us get to you and back on Christmas Day then I don’t mind,’ I said. I leaned back on the sofa. I was tired. I had been reading Mum’s notes until late last night after having made a supermarket run myself to stock up in case of heavy snow, and Harry had woken up early crying. He had already gone to bed as he had been so tired after I fed him before they got here.
‘How’s it all going?’ Beth asked, nodding at the pile of books and paperwork on top of the armchair in the corner where I had been reading last night, only realising the time when the last embers of the fire had died out, and I had started shivering.
I had been spending every spare minute I had bent over my mother’s research and I had found out more about Glendale than I had ever known but nothing so far that could prove useful to us. ‘Mum focused on her research on historic buildings and landmarks in the area and she did a lot of looking into Glendale Hall, which you might want to read. I also found a book on Glendale Church, which I’m going to give to Brodie. It’s all really interesting, but I haven’t found anything to help with putting a stop to this hotel. Yet, anyway. I’m sure I remember her talking about the farmland around the village though.’ I looked at my dad who thought about that.
‘She was frustrated, I think, about the lack of information on the area,’ Dad said. ‘Farmers weren’t the best at keeping detailed records, and there wasn’t a lot of information on farm buildings in the library. A lot was passed on by mouth. Rather like you believing what land belongs to this farm, I suppose Rory,’ he added.
‘None of our barns have names listed on them or in the property plans but my dad told me they all had names, they were definitely just passed down through the generations,’ Rory agreed from next to me on the sofa. ‘It’s very possible that there was an informal agreement made about the land at some point, but it doesn’t help us if that was the case.’ He glanced at his brother. ‘Dad would have known.’ I recognised that feeling well – needing the advice of a parent no longer here. It was so hard not having them here. I still hadn’t decided whether to read my mother’s letter or not although it was constantly at the back of my mind. I wanted to hear her voice again so badly but I was scared too to read it. It was a strange feeling of being both desperate to read it and wanted to hide it away forever. I rubbed Rory’s arm in support, and he smiled at me.
‘I feel so useless just sitting here,’ Beth said. ‘Can’t we appeal to someone?’
‘The council haven’t approved the plans yet so there is a chance they will say no, isn’t there?’ Drew said, hopefully.
‘I just wish Stewart didn’t want to build so close to our land,’ Rory said with a sigh.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea full stop, even if it wasn’t bordering your farm,’ Beth said. ‘We will lose farmland and wildlife, the whole countryside will be affected, and it sounds like there will be no encouragement to support local businesses. It would be much better if Hilltop was developed into something of value to the community if it’s not going to be a farm anymore. I just hope the council see that.’ She didn’t look as hopeful as Drew though that they would.
I didn’t want us to become too maudlin – we were so close to Christmas after all. ‘I’ve still got a box to go through,’ I said brightly. ‘I really think my mum will come through for us. But let’s forget about it all for the evening, let’s have something to eat, that’ll cheer us up.’ I didn’t need to mention food twice, everyone got up eagerly.
‘I’m sure there will be something in one of those books,’ Izzy said to me as we walked into the kitchen. ‘Books always hold the answer, don’t they?’
‘You’re right,’ I replied with a smile. ‘They have never let me down yet.’
Rory hung back beside me then as everyone sat down at the table. ‘If you can’t find anything, we’ll work it out. It’s a long shot, after all,’ he said softly, clearly concerned I was going to be upset if I didn’t find anything. But my mum was a historian and I was a librarian. I might have been still trying to find my way as a farmer’s partner, but I knew books, and so had she.
‘Research takes time,’ I said. ‘You just have to have faith.’
‘Brodie not rubbing off on you, is he?’ he joked as we joined the others.
I laughed. ‘You never know.’
I went to the Aga and pulled out the cottage pie I had made and carried it over to the table where Rory had put out the vegetables and crusty bread, and was handing out more drinks. The kitchen was lively and warm, just how it should be two days before Christmas.
‘Hattie sent me our profits this week,’ Rory said as everyone started to fill up their plates. ‘And they have doubled since Countryside Watch aired. So, I think we need a toast…’ He lifted his glass, and everyone did the same. ‘To Heather for bringing us all this publicity, and for inspiring so many people with her honesty – not just strangers, but us too. To Heather!’ I was embarrassed as everyone at the table cheered and toasted me, but pleased too that I’d made such a difference.
‘I would never have thought of it without, Beth,’ I said, over the noise.
‘I hope I’m getting an extra Christmas present this year,’ she joked.
‘I’d like to make one more toast before we eat,’ I said. ‘At this time of the year, I can’t help but think about people who are no longer with us.’ We had each of us lost someone close to us. Rory and Drew their parents, me and Dad had lost my mother, and Beth had lost her grandmother. ‘But we also should remember that we’re here because of them and that means they are still with us, in the family we are today, and they always will be. So, here’s to both absent and present friends – merry Christmas!’ I raised my wine glass again, and everyone echoed my toast enthusiastically.
Rory reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze.
I saw Drew and Beth exchange a smile when they saw him do that. When you loved someone, their happiness was also your happiness.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I woke up before our alarm – the farmhouse quiet and still in darkness, a distinct chill in the air. Climbing softly out of bed, not wanting to disturb Rory, I crept out across the landing into Harry’s room. He was still sleeping soundly, unaware of me in the doorway. I went downstairs into the kitchen where I put the coffee machine on and made a strong, black cup and carried it into the living room. Outside, the farm was still, and I could make out a crisp layer of frost over the ground when I looked out of the French doors.
Switching on the Christmas tree lights, I curled back up in the armchair and picked up my mum’s books once again. One was photographs of rural Scotland and I flicked through it until I recognised a scene. It was taken at Fraser Farm – on top of the hill, the cows grazing on a summer’s day, and in the background I could see Rory’s father. Easily recognisable as he looked so much like Rory and Drew. There was a short history of the farm dating it back to the eighteenth century.
The surrounding land has been farmed since the seventeenth century. The oldest farm in Glendale is Hilltop Farm, dating back to 1700.
Well, that was interesting. The farmhouse there was as old as I had thought it was when I looked around with Stewart.
My mum had written in her journal:
Not all rural land has been investigated by the authorities. There are many buildings in Glendale that surely should be listed in addition
to Glendale Hall.
I read those sentences twice. It was just a short post but the words stood out to me. If Hilltop Farm was as old as that book said then shouldn’t it be conserved for the future? Surely the authorities wouldn’t want it to be demolished to make way for a hotel?
‘You’re up early,’ Rory said from the doorway, making me jump.
‘I couldn’t sleep. Come and look at this,’ I said, waving him over. He came and perched on the arm of the chair as I showed him the picture of our farm. ‘Look how old it says this farm is, and Hilltop.’ And then I pointed to my mother’s notes. ‘What if both farms could become listed buildings?’
He traced his finger across the page, looking at his father, tragically taken from us too soon, and then he met my gaze. ‘My father said that the main barn dated back even longer than this farmhouse, he always thought it should be protected but it was something we never really looked into. I mean, how do you even get buildings listed?’ He tilted his head. ‘You’re thinking that if Hilltop was protected then the hotel wouldn’t get planning permission?’ he asked slowly, catching up to me.
‘That’s exactly what I’m thinking. I can look into listing, if we could get someone to investigate the farms, that would surely put Stewart’s plans on hold at least, and if they agree with us, there’s no way he’d be allowed to knock down the farmhouse. We could also protect this,’ I said, gesturing around us. ‘For the future too.’ I smiled. ‘And we thought that a librarian had no place on a farm.’
Hopeful Hearts at Glendale Hall Page 19
