Fight For Your Dream (21 page)

My Baby - Handover

The day finally arrived. We had been talking about this day for fifteen months and it was now ‘that day', Monday July 7
th
2014. Tomorrow I would relinquish full control of my sixteen-year-old baby ‘Mayfield Alpacas'. I cannot think of a word that comes close to describing how I felt. My whole body ached with the love I felt for my animals - the fear of letting go was so painful. Undoubtedly the decision, which we had made fifteen months ago, would ultimately change my life once again. Andrew Jonas would be the new face of Mayfield Alpacas. He had all the necessary credentials for the job: the qualifications, and the letters after his name, the experience and, apart from anything else, I really liked him as a person. I'd worked with Andy for nearly five years now, and I knew he was the right man for the job. It was time for me to move on and enjoy a more relaxed way of life with Nigel, family and friends. I know only too well, through bitter experience, that you only get one shot at life, it's certainly no dress rehearsal. Bringing Andy in would introduce young blood, new ideas and a fresh approach to the farm, and I knew Mayfield Alpacas was ready for that. I was getting tired. The past two winters had been hard work on the farm, and I couldn't keep working six days a week for much longer. Besides, I had other things to pursue, which I enjoyed: sailing, swimming, Nimbus and of course my menagerie. I decided to take one last walk around my farm with my dogs before I cleared my office. I knew I couldn't put it off for much longer.

Over the years I must have accumulated quite a lot of stuff. I was donating most of the stationary cupboard to Andy, but somehow I still managed to fill several boxes with personal memorabilia. My coloured Labrador figurines had stood on my desk for most of the time, along with my wooden alpaca, which had been a present from a customer in the early days of business. Where had those days gone? Sixteen years had passed so quickly. I picked up the figurines and wooden alpaca, and gently pressed them against my lips, closing my eyes to reminisce. These animals had been my lifeline when I needed them most. The tears welled up, and then came easily. I felt my legs go weak, and all the tension and apprehension of the past few weeks flooded out like a tidal wave. Crying quietly, I slumped down into my black executive chair, which had been a present from Nigel's mum and dad, again when ‘Mayfield Alpacas' was born. I wondered whether I could deal with this sensibly. I wasn't doing too well at the moment. I tried to console myself with the fact that this wasn't the end. After all, we would still own the farm, I would always have a say in major decisions and, of course, my horses would still be stabled at the farm. I'd still be spending a reasonable amount of time at the farm looking after Prince and Nimbus. I tried to think of the positive ways that this step back would make. In actual fact the positives far outweighed the negatives, and I would have the best of both worlds. I could dip in and dip out just as much as I liked, without the day-to-day hassle that running your own business brings. Taking all this into account, why then didn't I feel convinced?

After a while I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The sound of the voice was familiar, ‘Hello, Hazel, where are you? Bruv here.' It was Mark, my brother-in-law. Mark very rarely calls me Elaine; instead he prefers to use my middle name Hazel. Likewise I refer to Mark as Bruv, and I suppose for both of us it's a kind of endearment term. Quickly, I tried to pull myself together. The pretence didn't last for long though, as Mark saw straight through it when he looked at my face! My once warm, colourful office of animal paintings and photographs now looked bare and empty. It looked representative of how I was feeling inside, and I know Mark felt it too. At five feet five inches, my small frame is dwarfed by Mark's size and height, towering above me at six feet five inches, but Mark is a gentle giant and, when he opened his arms inviting me for a cuddle, I accepted warmly, and we gently cried together.

Mark stayed with me for a while, but then once again I was alone with my own solitary thoughts. In preparation for the handover several weeks earlier, I'd composed a letter to send to friends, contacts and suppliers, informing them of the forthcoming changes at Mayfield that would take place on the 8
th
July 2014: one of which was my new email address. I would no longer be
[email protected]
. This, I found, was the first significant move to letting go. The final paragraph read: ‘I'm sure you will all join me in wishing Andy all the luck in the world to attain his dream. I've certainly attained mine.' I re-read the draft letter out to Nigel to ask his opinion, but I failed miserably and broke down in tears before completing the paragraph. Nigel as always was there for me, insisting it was purely a new beginning: not the end.

Dear Fred, what a brick he'd been for me over the years. He'd broken my thoughts when he handed me a cup of tea saying, ‘Come on, young lady, how about I help you load your car and then you can get off home?' Biting my lip I nodded and said, ‘Thanks, Fred.'

I've never been very good at goodbyes, but today the ‘Goodbyes' seemed somehow so final.

I had parked ‘Dennis', my trusty Land Rover Defender, in the ménage so I could easily load up any personal stuff that I wanted to take home; but, to me, even ‘Dennis' looked forlorn. Jacquie sat quietly sipping a cup of tea on one of the picnic benches outside the coffee shop. She was all too aware that this was a tough day for me. We'd grown pretty close over the past three years since we'd met up again. Jacquie would be part of Andy's new team. Jacquie and myself go back a long way. We had met some thirty-four years earlier, when we both worked in the fines and fees department at the Sheffield Magistrates Court. Jacquie worked in the ‘enforcement section' of the office, and I in the ‘cashiers section'. Our paths had then crossed once again when, three years ago, Jacquie and her husband John had visited the farm with their youngest daughter Emily. They became weekly visitors. Then one week Jacquie asked if it would be possible for Emily to volunteer, working at the farm on Saturdays. Emily was a nice kid and I warmed to her immediately. She reminded me very much of myself at her age. She had an obvious passion for animals and was prepared to get stuck in and work hard to learn her trade. The only problem was that she was under age to work alone on the farm without being accompanied by an adult. Jacquie happily said she would accompany ‘Em' and offered her help as a volunteer as well. Never looking a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted gratefully - spare pairs of hands on the farm were always welcome. Since that day Jacquie has worked unreservedly without fail and has continued to do so even when Em came of age to work independently.

By December 2013, Jacquie and Andy had built up quite a rapport working alongside each other. Jacquie had helped out in the coffee shop when we were short-staffed, and this had obviously not gone unnoticed by Andy, bearing in mind that, in just six months time, he himself would be the one left holding the baby! Discussions obviously took place between the two of them and, when Jacquie finally agreed to take on the running of the coffee shop for Andy, I was really pleased for both of them. They would make a good team.

All loaded, I wandered back upstairs onto the mezzanine. Bracken and Bramble sat patiently on their mattress, waiting for their treat. They knew what was coming next, as it was a little ritual that happened every night, just before I left the farm. Tonight though was so very different. The farm looked different. My office looked different, and everything looked different. I needed to look around my office one more time before I finally closed the door, because tomorrow it wouldn't be my office any more. I thought about the times that I'd sat in that chair behind my desk so many times before: sometimes in sadness, sometimes in happiness. But what an incredible journey I'd travelled over the past sixteen years.

I owe my life to my animals. Without a shadow of a doubt, they have been my lifeline and my saviour. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and pulled the door towards me. After all, closing the door was only closing another chapter, but hey, what a chapter! What indeed will the next chapter bring? Just watch this space!!!

Epilogue

Reflections

I never intended to turn my passion for alpacas into a business. It somehow just happened that way. Little Elaine Allen, from Manvers Road, running a thriving, successful business? It's impossible: that's what I would have said. To this day I sometimes have to pinch myself. When I look back over the past sixteen years, I feel privileged to have found my vocation in life with these wonderful creatures. I wonder how many people do! Back then the diagnosis of cancer turned my life upside down, and that of my family; but even in the blackest moments of despair there is always hope if you search for it. You just need the courage. Not that I realised it then, but it was the best thing that could have happened to me, for me personally that is. I was one of the lucky ones.

What next for me then? Well, now it's eight weeks on from handover, and it's all still very strange.

To be honest, I'm not quite sure where I fit in just yet. I suppose I feel a little bit like a nomad, wandering around aimlessly. However, I'm sure that's only temporary. What I am able to do is enjoy Nimbus. I plan to bring him back into work slowly, and hopefully, over the next few weeks, we will both become comfortable in our new roles. Of course, I now have the time to spend some quality time with my beloved alpacas and indeed, all my other animals. Our exotic species are rapidly increasing. New enclosures have been designed and erected: internally and externally. Our meerkats have just had babies, and our wallabies, Shane and Bruce, have settled in really well, as have the chinchillas, chipmunks, ferrets, guinea pigs, finches, oh and our two skunks! Certainly, some exciting times ahead for all of us. I personally cannot think of anyone more caring and capable than Andy to take my farm to the next level. I'm confident that my baby is in safe hands, and I wish Andy all the luck in the world to reach his dream. Here's to Sheffield's first zoo!

Finally, for everyone who has read my book, I hope you will believe that anything is possible if you really want it badly enough. Never, never give in, and remember always, ‘Fight for your Dream'.