Summer At Skylark Farm

by Heidi Swain

  ‘I know,’ she smiled, looking a little surer, ‘you’re right, it is, but I still can’t quite believe it’s going to happen tonight.’

  ‘What did Jessica say?’ I asked, keen to hear the whole story. ‘I mean, does she want me to take anything extra?’

  The second question was an afterthought but quickly added when I realised just how far I was sticking my nose in.

  ‘Actually, I’ve got the stuff I was supposed to be taking to dinner in the back of my car,’ she admitted. ‘I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking it with you.’

  ‘You mean you haven’t told her?’

  Harriet shook her head.

  ‘Wimp,’ I teased. ‘You do know she’ll be thrilled when you explain why? She knows how much you like Rachel, and besides, she’s the one you always talk to about her, isn’t she?’

  ‘I know,’ said Harriet, running her hands through her hair. ‘She is and actually that’s just what makes the whole situation even more awkward.’

  ‘What do you mean awkward?’ I frowned. ‘I was only teasing about breaking off arrangements with friends. You know that, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘of course.’ She was looking more flustered by the second. ‘Oh God,’ she groaned, ‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Right,’ she said, taking a deep breath, ‘don’t go mad.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, beginning to feel both concerned and suspicious.

  ‘It was Holly who set the whole thing up.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I ran into her in The Cherry Tree and we got chatting. She asked me if I was seeing anyone and I mentioned Rachel. Next thing I knew, she’d pulled out her phone and was arranging the whole thing. They’re distant cousins or something . . .’

  Her words trailed off as she took in my stricken expression.

  ‘I see,’ I said.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to tell you, but I knew someone would go gossiping that they’d seen us in the café and I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea.’

  ‘Harriet,’ I said as I gathered up the bottle and glasses, ‘it’s absolutely nothing to do with me.’

  And it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me hating the situation. An image of Harriet and Holly sitting in the café with their heads together flashed through my mind and I admit I felt jealous, even though I had absolutely no right to.

  ‘I really think she just wants to make amends,’ Harriet continued, ‘Holly I mean, but it doesn’t make any difference to me, not at all. I still haven’t forgotten what she did. Although—’

  ‘Although what?’ I snapped, my tone sounding harsher than I meant it to.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Harriet, clearly picking up on how I felt about it all.

  ‘No, come on,’ I said more gently, ‘what were you going to say?’

  ‘Just that sometimes,’ Harriet said tentatively, looking everywhere but at me, ‘sometimes I can’t help wondering if she actually did me a favour when she told everyone about me.’

  I felt my mouth fall open in shock.

  ‘You can’t possibly be serious.’

  ‘Well, you see,’ she shrugged, ‘I was really struggling to find a way to tell everyone.’

  ‘Oh please,’ I said, making for the garden gate. ‘Please don’t try to justify what she did to you. I don’t think I could stand it.’

  Harriet followed me back to the yard.

  ‘I hope you have a good time tonight,’ I smiled, trying to squash down my anger and frustration. ‘I really do.’

  I wasn’t going to let Holly come between us. Harriet had been such a supportive friend since I arrived at the farm and there was no way I was going to lose her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, ‘and I hope you guys have a good evening too.’

  I leant forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘Call me tomorrow,’ I said, juggling the bags of salad and drinks along with our glasses and the cordial. ‘I want to hear all the details. Well, almost all the details.’

  I watched her back out of the yard, a smile fixed on my face. Holly had given Harriet exactly what she wanted and by my reckoning that meant Round Two had gone to the skinny blonde lurking on the side lines. And, if Harriet was such a pushover, I couldn’t help wondering what she’d got up her sleeve to try to win Jake around.

  I didn’t mention the real reason for Harriet pulling out of the barbecue to either Jake or Annie. I couldn’t trust myself not to rant and, to be honest, ever since Jake, wide eyed and with a trace of a smile on his lips, had relayed Holly’s whole apology-in-the-pub act to Annie, she herself had kept incredibly quiet. She had sat and listened as Jake retold events and threw in the odd ‘well I’ll be’, and ‘you don’t say’, but beyond that she had remained frustratingly silent. I still couldn’t weigh up her feelings about the situation and consequently thought it best to keep my own opinions to myself.

  I was canny enough to have worked out that bitching about Holly to either Jake or Harriet, or even displaying the slightest contempt for her, was enough to make me look like the bitch. For some reason, the soppy pair seemed hell-bent on giving her a second chance.

  Fortunately for my sanity, however, Jessica had firmly, and without a care for how her attitude came across, very definitely plonked herself in my corner.

  ‘You have got to be kidding me!’ she burst forth the second I finished telling her the real reason behind why Harriet hadn’t come to the barbecue.

  It wasn’t the fact that she was seeing Rachel that she objected to, rather the way the whole set up had been established.

  ‘Sshh,’ I hissed, closing the back door of her and Henry’s recently renovated cottage. ‘Keep your voice down.’

  ‘But don’t you see?’

  ‘Of course I see,’ I said soothingly, ‘but no one else does, so just keep it down, will you?’

  ‘What have you told Jake?’ she demanded.

  I didn’t get the chance to explain that I hadn’t told him anything.

  ‘Come on, Jess!’ Henry bellowed through the window. ‘Do you want these steaks cooked or cremated? A few plates wouldn’t go amiss!’

  We sat down to eat in their sunny back garden and eventually talk turned to the absence of the third ‘musketeer’, as Henry had annoyingly taken to calling us.

  ‘So she’s finally bagged herself a date with Rachel,’ he smiled, piling coleslaw and salad on to his plate. ‘You might actually get some peace now, Jess!’

  ‘Oh I doubt it,’ I jumped in before Jessica had a chance to open her mouth.

  ‘Why not?’ Henry frowned.

  ‘Well, she’s going to want to share all the details with her best friend and confidante, isn’t she?’

  ‘I’m not sure I fill that particular role any more,’ Jessica muttered darkly.

  Henry looked at me across the table and let out a long, slow breath.

  ‘I wonder if Holly had anything to do with it,’ Jake suddenly chirped up.

  He asked the question and said her name as if it was the most natural word in the world to trip untroubled off his tongue. I laid down my knife and fork and felt my stomach clench and twist in protest.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Henry asked, clearly confused by the mention of her name and blissfully unaware of the potential storm he was about to unleash.

  Jake looked up from his plate and realised we were all staring at him. I was appalled to notice that he was blushing slightly.

  ‘Oh, I ran into her a couple of days ago in town,’ he said dismissively, ‘and she happened to mention that she was back in touch with a few old friends and something about how she was a distant cousin of Rachel’s or something to that effect . . .’

  ‘So, when exactly,’ I said, choosing my words with as much care and as little contempt as I could muster, ‘did you have this little chat?’

  I knew I sounded jealous and peevish and completely over t
he top and, had it been anyone else in Wynbridge, anyone else in the world for that matter, it wouldn’t have mattered one jot. But this was Holly we were talking about and it did matter. The fact that Jake hadn’t mentioned that he’d run into her hurt like hell.

  ‘Look,’ he smiled, trying to placate me, ‘it was two seconds. We literally passed one another in the car park. She asked after you actually, Amber.’

  ‘Oh did she?’ I spat, before taking a huge mouthful of wine.

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed.

  I couldn’t help thinking how tired he sounded and I guessed he hadn’t said anything because he knew exactly how I was going to react to the mere mention of her name.

  ‘She offered to come and help clear out the cottage.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, considering half the stuff in there belongs to her, she said it was the least she could do. I thought you’d be pleased.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell me sooner then?’

  ‘Because it slipped my mind,’ Jake smiled. ‘Honestly, Amber, don’t turn this into something it isn’t. How about you come along to help us clear the place as well? At least that way we’ll all be doing it together.’

  ‘Oh thank you,’ I said, pushing away my barely touched plate of food, ‘that’ll be a real treat.’

  ‘Well, don’t then,’ snapped Jake, throwing down his napkin, ‘whatever.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be there,’ I said vehemently. ‘I might not like it, but I’ll be there, don’t you worry about that.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Jessica and Henry looking uncomfortable. What a fine way to repay their hospitality and what a time to have such a silly row. Suddenly I realised just how ridiculous it all was. Of course I wanted to see the cottage cleared and yes, it probably would be easier with Holly on hand to take her stuff there and then, but the thought of her standing in the loos at the May Fair, bitching about me behind my back, was not something I was going to forget in a hurry.

  Chapter 25

  Listening to Harriet rave on about the fun she and Rachel were enjoying in the first flush of romance was almost enough to soften my hardened heart against Holly . . . almost.

  ‘I just can’t believe how much we have in common,’ Harriet said yet again, shaking her head in wonder at the magic of it all, ‘and did I tell you that she wants to set up her own nursery as well?’

  ‘Plants, not kids,’ I jumped in.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Plants, not kids,’ I said again, ‘it’s what you said the day we met and you were telling me what you wanted to do with your life.’

  ‘Oh I see,’ Harriet laughed, regarding me for the briefest second before looking dreamily across the garden and down towards the orchards again. I wasn’t sure what she was actually seeing in her befuddled state, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t the flowers and trees. ‘Can you imagine,’ she said with a sigh, ‘if we could do something together, if Rachel and I could set up a nursery together?’

  ‘Come on, Miss Daydream,’ I said, waving my hand in front of her face and drawing her back to reality, ‘let’s get the rest of these out of the car. It looks like the heavens are about to open.’

  ‘Right,’ said Harriet, sounding marginally more alert, ‘of course. Let’s put them under cover and I’ll explain how to plant them up.’

  When I had finally finished renovating and repairing Annie’s garden there was little to do beyond cutting the grass and keeping on top of the weeds. Not only did I miss the exercise, but also the sense of achievement that came with the transformation. Consequently, having admired the beautiful seasonal containers created by Monty Don every Friday evening, I asked Harriet to supply me with some summer bedding of my own so I could attempt to put together something similar myself.

  She had turned up early that morning, her smile as sunny and bright as the cheerful trays of plants crammed into the back of her van, and furnished me with a quick but competent ‘how-to’ masterclass.

  ‘What are you going to plant them in?’ she asked as we finished unloading.

  ‘I’ve found a couple of old troughs in the shed,’ I told her, ‘and a few galvanised buckets, but beyond that I’m not sure. To be honest I wasn’t expecting quite so many plants,’ I laughed.

  ‘Well, you want to make an impact, don’t you?’

  ‘Definitely,’ I nodded.

  Yes, putting my stamp on the place felt like even more of a priority now that I knew Holly was going to help clear the cottage. She would be coming to the farm at some point and I wanted to leave her in no doubt that the place was very definitely my turf.

  ‘I tell you what,’ Harriet said, biting her lip, ‘you want to get up to Wynbridge. There’s an auction today. You’re bound to find something suitable there and it won’t cost the earth.’

  ‘What sort of things do they sell?’

  ‘Anything and everything,’ Harriet expanded, ‘stuff for the house and garden, small farm machinery and a couple of times a year there’s even a livestock sale. I know you’re a fan of all that battered vintage stuff in those magazines of yours and the auction is always rammed with bits like that. I don’t know why I didn’t mention it sooner actually.’

  ‘Oh wow,’ I squealed, my excitement mounting, ‘that sounds like a perfect idea. I had no idea the town had its own auction, and no,’ I chastised, ‘I can’t believe you didn’t mention it sooner either!’

  ‘Well, you’d better get cracking,’ she said, tapping her watch, ‘it’ll be starting in an hour or so.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, ‘I’ll go and get changed and head up there now.’

  Harriet slammed shut the back door of the van and climbed into the driver’s seat. She was about to turn the key in the ignition and, even though I hated myself for doing it, I couldn’t help asking.

  ‘So,’ I said, as if it was the most natural question I could possibly ask, ‘what does Holly make of your burgeoning relationship with Rachel? As official match-maker I would guess she’s feeling pretty pleased with herself.’

  Harriet looked at me for a second and I wasn’t sure if she was going to answer. Given my previous reaction when the ‘H’ word came up, I could hardly blame her if she decided to keep quiet.

  ‘To tell you the truth,’ she said eventually, ‘I’ve hardly seen her. I had thought she’d be full of herself and pestering me for details and some thanks or recognition. The old Holly certainly would have been, believe me, but I’ve only seen her for five minutes and that was just as I was leaving to come here.’

  ‘She came to see you?’

  ‘No,’ said Harriet, ‘she spotted me locking the gate as she drove by and pulled up for a quick chat. She was pleased that Rachel and I had hit it off but she didn’t put it down to her match-making skills, as you put it.’

  ‘Oh well,’ I said a little begrudgingly, ‘maybe she has changed after all.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Harriet shrugged. ‘Anyway you get yourself to Wynbridge and see what you can find at the auction.’ She turned the ignition over and began to pull away. ‘And ring me if you want a hand planting up!’

  ‘I will,’ I called after her. ‘Thanks, Harriet.’

  By the time I’d finished my farm chores and driven myself to town I had a job to find a parking space that I felt confident enough to squeeze the farm truck into. Thankfully the threatened rain had held off and the market square was abuzz with more people than I’d ever seen in the whole town. I had hoped to grab a quick coffee and a slice of something delectable from The Cherry Tree Café, but there wasn’t a seat to be had, inside or out.

  ‘It’s always like this on auction days,’ Angela told me as she bustled around me with her order pad and pen. ‘If you’d have come an hour ago we could have squeezed you in!’

  ‘No matter,’ I shrugged, ‘I’ll pop back later.’

  ‘Good luck at the auction,’ Angela called after me. ‘I take it that’s where you’re heading?’

  ‘Yes,’ I called back, as I dodged through the crowd. �
��I’ll let you know how I get on.’

  It didn’t take many seconds to work out where the auction was taking place. I simply followed the steady stream of locals heading towards the old town hall, which I had always assumed was locked up and redundant.

  Having registered at the desk and collected my numbered bidding card, I had just a few minutes to rush around and look at everything before the viewing ended and the auction began. The time limit turned out to be a definite blessing because I could have spent a small fortune on vintage kitchen paraphernalia for the house, and that was before I’d even considered the garden!

  ‘Seen anything that takes your fancy?’ said a voice behind me.

  ‘Hello, Jim,’ I smiled, ‘you made me jump. How is it possible with your bulk to creep up on someone?’

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m very light on my feet,’ he chuckled, ‘always have been.’

  Looking him up and down I decided not to comment further.

  ‘I’m looking for planters for the farm,’ I said instead, ‘thought it might be nice to spruce the place up a bit for the summer. Harriet has sorted me out with some lovely plants and now I need some pots and hanging baskets to show them off, you know the sort of thing.’

  Jim nodded along, looking very pleased with himself.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen just the things. I was thinking about bidding for them myself but Evelyn would go mad, and besides,’ he added, rubbing his stubbly chin, ‘I don’t think we’ve got the space.’

  In the months since my move to the farm every visit to The Mermaid had been a revelation. As the time passed, less and less brickwork and footpath had been visible, and now, heading towards mid-June, the whole front looked to be entirely covered with an explosion of colourful summer bedding. It was Jim’s pride and joy, and I knew, from Evelyn telling anyone who stood still long enough to listen, that he spent hours dead-heading and watering.

  ‘Here,’ he said in a whisper as he nudged aside a couple of other lots with his size elevens, ‘what do you reckon?’