Appleby Farm (12 page)

Great.

‘Hi,’ I called, tugging my jumper down over my pyjamas as the pair strode towards me.

‘How’s our Arthur?’ grunted Eddy from under knotted eyebrows. He was wearing a pair of brown trousers, a checked brown shirt and a belt on top of which perched a large belly. His sleeves were rolled up and there was mud all the way up his arm. At least, I think it was mud. Returning from a cattle inspection, Eddy could be covered in something far worse.

I took a step back and tried not to inhale.

Ross was looking on the scruffy side too, I noticed, which made me feel slightly better about my own outfit. He was dressed in his navy overalls as usual, but was covered from head to toe in a fine golden dust, like he’d had a tussle with a hay bale and lost.

I looked back at Eddy. ‘He’s going to be OK. It’ll take a few days to get his medication sorted out, but luckily there wasn’t too much long-term damage to the heart. Auntie Sue knows more, of course. As soon as she’s up I’m taking her back to the hospital.’

‘Good, good.’ Eddy nodded. ‘You want to go and get the weed sprayer ready, lad? Bottom Field first.’

‘Sure.’ Ross turned to go. ‘Oh, Freya, you missed Lizzie earlier. She says to pop into the pub if you get chance.’

I pushed my bed-head hair behind my ears and smiled at him. ‘I will, definitely.’ Without Anna nearby I had no one to confide in about Charlie. And I’d have to talk about the whole disaster with someone, or I’d go barmy.

Eddy coughed, breaking into my thoughts. ‘So?’ he said expectantly.

I dragged my eyes away from Ross’s retreating lanky form and met Eddy’s frown.

‘You’re wondering whether this heart attack is connected to his accident, aren’t you?’ I sighed.

‘’Tis a coincidence,’ he said gruffly, scuffing the toe of his boot against the cobbles.

I glanced up to see movements in the kitchen; Auntie Sue must be up.

‘Come on.’ I jerked my head towards the orchard. ‘Let’s walk and talk.’

I marched off at speed before Auntie Sue caught sight of us, with Eddy bringing up the rear and grumbling about not even getting a cup of tea.

‘We’ll know more today; he wasn’t in a fit state to talk much last night,’ I said, taking a seat on a rather splintery-looking bench at the edge of the orchard. ‘But I do know he won’t be allowed to do anything much around the farm for up to six months, and certainly no driving for a while.’

In front of us were two small fields. Lizzie’s horse, Skye, was grazing at the far side in one of them and the two Jersey cows with their calves were in the other. The newest calf was suckling and neither he nor his mother, Gaynor, were interested in our arrival, but the other cow, Gloria, ambled over, her calf bumping along beside her.

Gloria stuck her nose over the stone wall and stared at us with her gentle brown eyes. I lost sight of the calf – she was too small to reach the top of the wall.

I patted the space beside me and Eddy sat down with a groan.

‘Buggered then, aren’t we?’ he tutted. ‘Me and Ross’ll never manage the farm between us.’

‘Really?’ My heart sank. Naively, I’d thought that as we’d got Ross here for the summer, the farm would be OK.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ said Eddy, ‘he’ll make a good farmer one day. But we’ll be starting making silage next month and there’s over a hundred acres of grass – that’s a lot to cover for an old duffer like me and one apprentice.’

Silage was the huge mountain of chopped-up grass that was held under plastic in an area called the clamp and weighted down with old tyres. It was used to feed the cattle when the grass stopped growing over winter.

I nodded, wishing I knew what the answer was.

Gloria snorted for some attention and we both got up to see her. My brain was whirring: could I help out, learn to drive a tractor and … everything else? Or would that just mean extra work for Eddy? If not me, then who? And where would the money come from to pay for extra labour?

‘Lovely beasts, the Jerseys,’ said Eddy, rubbing Gloria’s broad nose affectionately. ‘Good natured, docile … a bit like young Ross, I suppose.’ He chuckled.

I smiled. At least he approved of his apprentice; that was something.

The calf edged a bit closer. I held out my hand but she was too timid. She was a lighter shade of brown than Gloria, although they both shared the same gorgeous brown eyes.

‘Those lovely eyelashes are wasted on you,’ I said. A thought occurred to me and I gasped in horror. ‘Oh gosh, they haven’t been milked today. Poor cows, they must be desperate!’

Eddy shot me a sideways glance and shook his head. ‘No rush when they’ve got calves feeding. Your aunt will milk the extra off later.’

I flushed. ‘Of course.’

Charlie was right. His words from yesterday rang in my ears:
Think about it, what can you actually do to help?

‘By the way …’ Eddy pulled at his collar and looked awkward all of a sudden. ‘I saw our vet in’t village yesterday and he asked about his bill. Overdue, he reckons.’

‘Right.’ I nodded, pulling myself up tall. ‘I’ll have a look in the office and see if I can find it.’

Now tidying the office
was
something I could tackle, I thought, with a welcome spurt of optimism. Not that I wanted to be indoors especially, I was more of an outdoor person, but I was quite good at organization, plus I could try to sneak a peek at that ‘final notice’ letter I’d seen the last time I was here. If there was an issue with money at the farm, now might be a good time to get to grips with it, before Uncle Arthur came home.

‘Want my opinion?’ asked Eddy as we began to make our way back to the yard.

I nodded. Any opinion would be welcome at this point in time.

‘Get a contractor in to manage the grassland for the summer and make the silage ready for winter.’

‘Will that be expensive?’ I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

Eddy grunted. ‘Cheaper than buying feed for the winter.’

‘Of course,’ I said, chewing my lip. Without enough silage the feed bill would be enormous and that was a cost we could definitely do without.

‘Who’s this now?’ he tutted, glancing over to the road.

I followed his gaze to see a small van turn into the farm track and begin the bumpy journey towards us.

‘Me and Ross can manage the herd between us and look after the crops. But it would take the pressure off if someone else could handle the silage.’

I squeezed his arm. ‘Leave it with me, Eddy; I’ll add it to my list.’

Eddy nodded. ‘Give Arthur my best. Tell him I’ll be in later.’

As I left him to check up on Ross, a smart white van with
Lakeland Flowers
written on the side of it bounced across the yard at speed and came to a halt in front of me at the farmhouse gate.

A short wiry man with a thatch of silver hair jumped out, darted to the rear of the van and retrieved a huge bunch of lilies.

‘Delivery for Freya Moorcroft?’ he called, scanning me up and down with a hint of a grin.

I cringed. I was never feeding the chickens in my pyjamas again. On the other hand, there was a man here bearing flowers with my name on them. Yay!

‘That’s me!’ I cried, bouncing on the spot.

‘Here you go then, miss.’

‘Thank you!’

He handed me the bouquet and I tried not to snatch it out of his hands. Hardly daring to breathe, I pulled out the card that was tucked into the top and opened it with one hand.

There was quite a long message but the word I most wanted to see was there in black and white:
Charlie.

I squealed, grabbed the man round the neck and hugged him. ‘Thank you!’

‘They’re not actually from me,’ came the muffled voice from my jumper.

‘I know,’ I laughed, ‘it’s a bit like shooting the messenger, only I like the message, so no shooting required.’

‘Thank heavens for that,’ said the delivery man, extracting himself from my arms.

‘They’re from my boyfriend,’ I said in a wobbly voice. ‘He must still love me. After last night I wasn’t sure.’

‘All right, miss, there’s no need to explain. Sign here, please.’

He handed me an electronic pad and a plastic pen. I scrawled my signature – quite tricky with an armful of flowers – and gave it back to him.

The man tapped away at his little screen and frowned. ‘Don’t happen to know the time, do you?’

The kitchen door opened and Madge came trotting out, padded across the yard to the dog kennel and lay in wait for her morning egg.

‘Time for an egg, I’d guess,’ I giggled.

The man shook his head, straightened his tie and, looking rather relieved, jumped back into the van.

He tooted his horn and I waved him off, hugging the flowers to my chest.

Charlie still loved me. And as long as we had love, the rest would work itself out, wouldn’t it?

Auntie Sue was putting the kettle on when I practically danced my way into the kitchen.

‘Look! From Charlie!’ I tickled her nose with flowers as I waltzed past and told a white lie. ‘They’re for both of us. To cheer us up.’

Björn wound his slinky body around my legs and I scooped him up, dropped the flowers on the table and kissed my aunt’s cheek in one happy circuit of the room.

‘Ooh, what a kind man; how lovely! Here, let me find a vase.’

‘Thank you.’ I sat at the table, cuddling the cat’s silky body to me while I read Charlie’s note.

And cried.

Gorgeous girl, I am a total pillock and don’t blame you if you’ve written me off. It is just like you to dash off at a moment’s notice to come to your aunt and uncle’s rescue and the fact that you’re so caring is one of the things I love about you. I know you need to be at the farm right now. I hope your uncle is doing OK and I can’t wait to see you.

Your apologetic, grumpy, childish and loving Charlie xxx

OK, I forgive him.

When we arrived at the hospital later, a black nurse with eye-wateringly tight hair braids was making notes on a clipboard at the end of Uncle Arthur’s bed. His face lit up when he spotted us. His skin was still pale, except for the remnants of the scab over his eyebrow, but he looked a lot more with it than last night. He was propped up on at least three pillows, wires protruding from a gap in his pyjama jacket, a clip on the end of his forefinger and, of course, he still had his wrist in plaster.

‘You two are a vision of loveliness to an old codger,’ he wheezed.

The nurse coughed.

‘Er, you
three
, I meant,’ he added. The nurse let out a huge lilting laugh that shook her bosom and Uncle Arthur rolled his eyes comically. I kissed him and arranged two chairs, one each side of the bed, while Auntie Sue hugged him until he groaned.

‘Gave me such a shock, you did,’ she said and sniffed. She poured him a glass of water from a jug and held it up to his mouth.

Uncle Arthur sipped at it and smacked his lips. ‘Sorry, love. I’m a flippin’ nuisance, aren’t I?’ He patted her hand gently. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll—’

The nurse cleared her throat. ‘Now, Arthur,’ she said sternly, ‘you’ve got some talking to do. Or I’ll do it for you, you hear me?’

Uncle Arthur’s eyes darted from the nurse to me and then finally to his wife, and he swallowed. ‘Loud and clear, nurse.’

The nurse hooked the clipboard back over the metal bar at the end of the bed, wagged an ominous finger at the patient and moved to the next bed, swaying her hips as she went.

Auntie Sue stared at her husband expectantly. ‘Well?’

Uncle Arthur turned a lighter shade of grey. ‘You know that accident I had …’

Eddy had been spot on, thinking that there was more to the tractor accident than his boss was letting on. It hadn’t been a crackly radio that had caused Uncle Arthur to hit a ditch, it had been a painful squeezing sensation in his heart, but because it only lasted a few seconds and because he doesn’t like making a fuss he’d decided it was nothing.

But it hadn’t been nothing; it had been heart attack number one.

‘The consultant was quite snooty about it,’ said Uncle Arthur, raising his bushy eyebrows indignantly.

‘I’m not surprised.’ Auntie Sue tutted. She looked torn; poised at the edge of her seat as if she couldn’t decide whether to box his ears or fold him into her chest and never let him out of her sight.

The ECG he’d had done the day before had picked up the previous damage to his heart straight away. Now he would have to have a stent fitted, followed by a few more days in hospital to sort out his medication, which would hopefully make sure this would never, ever happen again.

‘Look, you two,’ I said, reaching across the pale-blue standard-issue blanket for both of their hands, ‘for the next few weeks, I just want you to concentrate on Uncle Arthur’s recovery. Let me handle the farm. Eddy and I can sort out any problems between us. OK?’

Awkward silence. Worried looks flashed back and forth.

‘What?’ I felt my cheeks colour. ‘Don’t you think I can do it?’

I swallowed back a lump in my throat. I would expect that sort of reaction from my parents, but not from these two. My role in the family had always been the free-spirited girl, never sticking at anything, no direction, no long-term plan. And it had never bothered me before; well, why would it? It was true. It bothered me now, though.

‘Of course,’ said Auntie Sue. ‘It’s just that …’

‘It’s all right, love,’ said Uncle Arthur, squeezing his wife’s hand. ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more than our Freya, can you?’

I let out a long breath. I would do this and I would do it well. My stomach bubbled nervously, but I fooled him with my breezy smile.

‘Fab,’ I said, kissing his forehead and giving him a gentle hug. ‘Anything specific you want doing today?’

My uncle drummed his fingers on his stubbly cheek. ‘There’s a passport application to fill in for Gaynor’s calf.’

I opened my mouth and shut it just in time. That could have been embarrassing. It wasn’t because Gaynor was planning a little trip abroad with her newborn calf; all cattle had to have their own passports. I knew that, I’d just temporarily forgotten.

‘OK. Anything else?’ I said, trying to look confident.