Summer At Skylark Farm Page 4

Chapter 6

  Our last few days in London passed in a heady cocktail of excitement and trepidation and were punctuated by the arrival of a plethora of parcels and packages. I’d gone all out with the online ordering, and having taken full advantage of the next-day express delivery option I now had the magic outfits that would transform me from sophisticated urbanite to chic country dweller. Well, that was the theory.

  ‘I’m not quite sure what you’re imagining,’ said Jake, biting his lip, ‘but you’re going to be sadly disappointed if you’re expecting to be baking fresh bread and strolling through wildflower meadows every day of the week.’

  ‘Not every day of the week,’ I told him cheekily. ‘Three or four times a week would be fine.’

  I might have only been teasing, but as the packages piled up Jake began to sound more concerned, whereas I, armed with my new wardrobe, was feeling ever more confident.

  ‘Please don’t look so worried,’ I insisted while sighing in admiration at the latest arrival from Boden. ‘I’ve got some old jeans and jumpers for when you need me to help out.’

  Jake raised his eyebrows and shook his head but didn’t say anything. I kissed him on the cheek and dived to grab my mobile, which was ringing, yet again. I might have left the payroll of Simon Hamilton, but stupidly I’d insisted that Elena, my recently promoted replacement, could call if there was anything she needed or wasn’t sure of and she was certainly making the most of my foolish offer. Up until that moment I had been selfishly flattered that Elena was struggling without me but suddenly I was beginning to wish I’d snapped rather than loosened the apron strings.

  ‘Hi Amber,’ she said in the slightly tense tone she had adopted since accepting the job, ‘me again. You don’t happen to have the number for Thompson’s, do you?’

  ‘Just a sec,’ I said, reaching for my big black book of contacts.

  So far I had kept it close to hand because every time she phoned I found myself flicking through the packed pages for some titbit of information.

  ‘You know,’ she wheedled, sounding more confident, ‘it would have been so much easier if you’d left me your book. I could easily arrange for the company courier to come and pick it up if you like,’ she added hopefully.

  ‘Really,’ I laughed. Evidently I had read her tone wrong and she was beginning to find her feet after all. I had to admire her nerve. ‘You want me to give you my book?’

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ she said, sounding relieved, ‘it would make my life so much easier.’

  ‘Look, Elena,’ I said, while flicking through the pages for the section marked ‘T’, ‘don’t take this the wrong way, but creating your own contacts book is a really important part of the job. Giving you mine wouldn’t benefit you at all.’

  OK, so that was a blatant lie. Giving Elena my big black book would totally make her life easier, but there was no way I was going to part with it. Not even for ready cash. I’d spent three years filling the pages with every contact I had ever used, and more besides, and there was no way I was going to just pass it on, especially as I still didn’t know if my life at Skylark Farm was going to be as transformative as I hoped. Some might say my reluctance to hand it over was lack of commitment, but to me it just felt like good old-fashioned common sense.

  I gave Elena the number she needed and after a frosty thank you, she hung up.

  ‘What did he want this time?’ Jake asked as I filled the kettle then joined him at the table.

  ‘It wasn’t Simon,’ I said. ‘I’ve already told you, he hasn’t called once. It was Elena,’ I explained, failing to mention that I’d told her she could ring. ‘She needed a number for Thompson’s, the caterers.’

  ‘And what’s wrong with her opening the phone book or checking the details on their website?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I shrugged, rubbing my temples, ‘nothing at all, but I happen to have acquired the mobile number of Paul himself and more often than not a direct line to the top makes all the difference.’

  Jake nodded and reached under the table for something.

  ‘Well,’ he said, producing a neatly wrapped package and laying it on the table in front of me, ‘I think it’s about time you left the direct line to the top to someone else, don’t you?’

  ‘What’s this?’ I said, picking up the package and giving it a little shake.

  ‘Open it,’ he beamed.

  I tore at the paper and looked at the box, which contained a new mobile phone.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, feeling confused, ‘but I already have a phone.’

  ‘I know you do,’ Jake laughed, picking up my trusty old lifeline and moving it to one side.

  I wasn’t really sure what he was getting at with his wry smile and knowing look, but I didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

  ‘So, you’ve bought me this because . . .?’ I ventured.

  ‘Because it’s time for a change,’ he said simply.

  ‘OK,’ I said, tearing ineffectually at the tape on the box. ‘Is this the newer model? Do you think I’ll be able to just transfer the sim?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Jake nodded, ‘but you aren’t going to.’

  ‘Why not?’ I asked, still not understanding the point he was trying to make.

  ‘Because this,’ he said, taking the box from me and ripping through the tape in one smooth action, ‘is a new start.’

  ‘But all my contacts, all my numbers are on my old phone,’ I mumbled, feeling further confused.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Jake, beginning to sound frustrated. ‘If you’re really serious about making our life at Skylark Farm work, Amber, you have to leave all this behind. You can’t get on the train with half your mind still on everything that’s going on in that office.’

  He was right, of course. Totally right, but work had been my life for so long that giving up my phone and cutting off all possible contact with what I had worked so hard for, even if it did turn out to be for just a few weeks, was a real wrench. I’d expected to feel like this when I told Simon I was leaving, but because he’d given me the six-month window to see how things panned out, I hadn’t.

  Of course, Jake was completely unaware of the compromise I had reached and therefore he was also blissfully unaware that I might, at some point in the future, still need both my phone and my contacts book, but for now what he was advocating made perfect sense and it was high time I parted with both. I really did need to sever all connection until after the summer and, if everything went as well as I hoped, then forever.

  ‘OK,’ I said, taking a deep breath, ‘OK.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting you should delete your friends and family,’ Jake explained, ‘just cut out your connections to your old job.’

  I nodded but didn’t say anything, surprised by just how big a step this felt and how final.

  ‘But only if you want to, of course,’ Jake added, reaching for my hand and looking concerned. ‘Oh God, I’ve got this all wrong, haven’t I? You think I’m trying to tell you what to do. That isn’t how this was supposed to look, Amber.’

  ‘I don’t,’ I said, squeezing his hand and feeling guiltier by the second, ‘it doesn’t. You’re right, of course you are.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ I nodded. ‘I absolutely want to make this work and I can’t with that damn thing going off all the live long day, can I? Turn it off,’ I said, ‘do it now.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Definitely,’ I nodded. ‘It’ll be a relief, to be honest.’

  And it was.

  I found an empty shoe box at the back of the wardrobe and inside it I put my old phone, now mercifully silent, and my contacts book and sealed it shut. I put it in the bottom of my last packing box and stacked it in the cupboard in the hall before locking the door and pocketing the key.

  The cupboard was the one place in the flat that the tenant wouldn’t have access to so everything personal I needed to leave behind was stowed carefully away in there like a giant time capsule.

  ‘So t
his is how Harry Potter felt when he was destroying Horcruxes,’ I smiled nervously as I turned my back on the door.

  ‘Exactly,’ Jake said, hugging me tight. ‘Liberating, isn’t it?’

  I looked in wonder at the life I had reduced to a suitcase, a rucksack and my cross-body Cath Kidston bag, and yes, it did feel liberating.

  The afternoon was bright, sunny and relatively warm as we boarded the train from King’s Cross to Peterborough but as we travelled north the sun crept behind the ever increasing bank of grey clouds. By the time we pulled into the station the rain was pouring and the wind had an edge to it that had us rushing for the taxi rank.

  ‘I know you said the place was flat,’ I said to Jake as we left the city behind us, ‘but I wasn’t expecting this. I can see for miles!’

  It wasn’t exactly picturesque. The fields, which looked barren to my untrained eye, were stamped with never ending lines of gigantic pylons that marched across the landscape like alien invaders and the few trees I did spot were wind tortured and bent low. However, even I could tell there was something special about the place. Even through the rain and decreasing light I could appreciate the raw beauty that Jake had so passionately described.

  ‘Almost there,’ he told me.

  He took my hand and kissed it as the taxi left the main road and turned up what, to my jolted spine, felt like a dirt track. I was just beginning to pity the car’s suspension when we swung into a gateway and drew to a halt. My hands were shaking as I gathered my bags and Jake paid the driver.

  ‘This is it,’ Jake beamed, spreading out his arms to indicate the scruffy yard and ragtag group of dilapidated outbuildings, ‘home sweet home.’

  Chapter 7

  The farmhouse, although clearly in need of a lick of paint and a spruce up, wouldn’t have looked out of place on the cover of the Country Living magazine in my bag. The arched porch in the middle even had roses growing around the door (which, if nothing else, were appreciated because Dan said they didn’t exist), but the mismatched jumble of boots and jackets inside were a clear indication that this was a working farm rather than a fancy weekend retreat.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ I said, smiling up at Jake and truly meaning it, ‘really beautiful.’

  He smiled back, raised the fox-shaped brass door knocker and hammered it against the door. The sudden din that erupted from inside had my pulse racing and my palms sweating in an instant.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ I gasped, taking a step back into the rain.

  ‘Just the dogs,’ Jake laughed, pulling me back under cover, ‘they must’ve been asleep when the taxi arrived.’

  ‘Dogs,’ I stammered, ‘you never said anything about dogs.’

  ‘Bella and Lily,’ Jake casually announced. ‘The Labradors, I must have told you about them?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘you didn’t. Jake, I’m sorry, but I’m not used to dogs, or any pet for that matter. I didn’t even have a goldfish when I was a kid.’

  ‘Oh, it’ll be fine,’ Jake laughed, ‘these two are a doddle compared to the geese.’

  I couldn’t be sure if he was joking or not.

  ‘They won’t jump up, will they?’ I whimpered. ‘What if they don’t like the look of me?’

  ‘Oh, they won’t hurt you,’ Jake tutted, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. ‘They’re pussycats really.’

  ‘Well, they don’t sound like pussycats,’ I muttered, reaching for my suitcase and holding it protectively across my body.

  Before I had a chance to find a hole to squeeze my uncertain self into, I heard a bolt being slid back from the inside, then the door opened, the porch was flooded with light and I was knocked off my feet backwards into the yard.

  ‘Oh my God, Amber!’ Jake shouted, rushing to rescue me. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘No!’ I shouted back, abandoning my suitcase and covering my head until he called off the hounds from hell. ‘Of course I’m not all right! I knew this would happen.’

  Jake dropped his bags, grabbed the dogs by their collars and pulled them away. I quickly scrabbled to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest as I brushed myself down and tried to regain my composure.

  ‘Oh you poor dear girl,’ said the woman who had answered the door as she rushed to my side, ‘I’m so sorry. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I breathed, feeling anything but, ‘yes, I’m fine.’

  I had been so determined to make a good first impression and already my efforts, along with the hem of my new linen shirt, were in tatters. I don’t think I could have looked more of a fool if I tried.

  ‘Auntie Annie,’ Jake beamed as he wrestled with the dogs and appeared completely oblivious to my embarrassment, ‘this is Amber. Amber, this is Auntie Annie.’

  ‘I’m so pleased to meet you,’ Annie beamed, swiftly pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek.

  She smelt comfortingly of pressed powder and Lily of the Valley and somehow instantly made me feel better. Whether it was the warmth of her demonstrative welcome or her obvious delight that I had decided to come I wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it helped me relax and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders disappear.

  ‘Welcome,’ she smiled, kissing me again. ‘Welcome to Skylark Farm. I’m so pleased you changed your mind about coming. Jake was quite inconsolable when he thought you wouldn’t.’

  ‘Was he?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Annie nodded conspiratorially as she scooped up my Cath Kidston bag and linked her arm through mine. ‘He really was and I can see why now. She’s every bit as pretty as you described, isn’t she?’ she said, smiling at Jake who had turned beetroot red.

  ‘Thank you, Auntie,’ he mumbled, blushing an even deeper shade of crimson. ‘I’ll put the dogs in the washhouse for now, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, I think that would be a good idea, just until we’re settled,’ she agreed, then, turning her mischievous periwinkle eyes back to me, added, ‘come on, let’s go and get you a cup of tea. I’m so sorry about the dogs. I haven’t been able to exercise them as much as I’d like recently and consequently they’re a little hyper.’

  She led me into the kitchen while Jake settled the dogs in one of the buildings attached to the side of the house. I couldn’t help thinking I might have done them a disservice because they didn’t look anywhere near as fearsome as they had sounded as he led them away, with their tails wagging and tongues lolling.

  ‘Please, make yourself at home, my dear,’ Annie smiled as she slowly set about making tea and laying the table. ‘You must be parched.’

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’

  ‘No, absolutely not,’ she insisted, ‘you stay where you are.’

  An ancient range almost filled one wall of the kitchen and along with the scrubbed pine table there were a variety of mismatched chairs. The stone floor felt hard and cold underfoot; the only concession to comfort was a large rug that looked like it had been made from rags, in front of the range.

  There was a jumble of assorted cushions on the armchairs either side of the range, evidently all handmade, and the few fitted cupboards looked like they had been in their prime decades ago. Looking around I realised the only thing the room had in common with the kitchens I’d been fantasising about in glossy magazines was the fact that this one actually was in the country.

  ‘There we are,’ said Annie, shakily placing a pretty floral patterned cup and saucer down in front of me, ‘do help yourself to milk and sugar.’

  Gratefully I wrapped my hands around the cup and reached for the milk jug.

  ‘Oh Jake,’ Annie scolded, when he joined us a few seconds later, ‘look at the state of you, you silly boy! You shouldn’t let them jump up, you know. That shirt is ruined.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Anyone would think I’d been away months rather than days! I’m sorry, Amber, I had no idea you were scared of dogs.’

  ‘I’m not scared exactly,’ I said, trying to play down what had happened, �
�I just feel a bit intimidated by them, that’s all. I guess I’m just not used to them yet.’

  ‘Bad experience as a child, no doubt,’ said Annie as she eyed me astutely.

  There was something in the way she said, rather than asked, that suggested that she already knew what I was going to say. The old lady might not have been as steady on her feet as she once was, but she was still clearly as sharp as a packet of pins when it came to sizing people up. Her quick glance and shrewd observations put me in mind of Miss Marple and I realised straightaway that here was a woman from whom no secrets could be hidden.

  ‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘I’m afraid so. I was at the beach with my mum and dad one day and someone’s dog ran up, off its lead, and jumped up at me. I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I couldn’t have been more than four or five, so it was right in my face. I haven’t really had much contact with dogs ever since.’

  ‘Oh you poor love,’ Annie tutted, ‘that nasty little experience should have been nipped in the bud! Didn’t you ever have a dog as a child?’

  ‘No,’ I laughed. The thought of my parents coping with something as unruly as a puppy was most amusing.

  ‘She’s never had a pet,’ Jake said, ‘of any variety.’

  ‘Well I’ll be,’ said Annie, looking shocked. ‘Well, I can promise you right now, you’ll be used to that pair by this time tomorrow.’

  I looked at her doubtfully.

  ‘You will,’ she chuckled, ‘you’ll see.’

  She gave Jake a swift kiss on the cheek as she passed him a cup and made her slow way back to the range.

  ‘I hope you’re hungry,’ she said, ‘I’ve got a pie in here.’

  Jake looked at me wide eyed and slowly shook his head. He looked positively terrified and it was all I could do to stifle the giggle I could feel bubbling up.

  ‘And before you say anything, you naughty boy,’ Annie added without turning round, ‘the pie came from town. The only thing I’ve done is bake a few potatoes and not even I can get that wrong!’

  ‘I should have warned you about Annie’s cooking,’ Jake whispered as we climbed into bed that night. ‘Be very careful about eating anything she’s made herself, won’t you? Her culinary skills are dubious at best, so just watch out.’