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Summer At Skylark Farm Page 7
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‘You know what,’ he said, kissing my hand, ‘I think you could be right. We’ll ask Annie. I bet she’ll love the idea.’
‘There!’ I teased. ‘And you said all those magazines I was reading were a waste of money!’
We had almost made it back through the orchards when I heard, above all the other birds, one in particular. Its sweet, melodious song went on and on, the exquisite sound literally soaring up to the heavens.
‘What is that bird?’ I said, stopping and holding up my bandaged hand. ‘Can you hear it?’
‘It’s a skylark,’ Jake said quietly, also listening, ‘they nest in the strawberry fields that lie next to the furthest edges of the orchards. I’ll show you one later. They fly up and up and up and sing and sing. They’re amazing little birds. There used to be a lot more about, that’s why the farm’s named after them.’
‘That’s lovely,’ I smiled, ‘and what’s down that way?’
I pointed towards the far boundary beyond the orchards.
‘A cottage,’ Jake said without looking.
I had expected him to say just another field or something.
‘What cottage?’ I asked.
‘Just a little place that belongs to the farm.’
‘Who lives in it?’
‘No one now,’ Jake shrugged, ‘it’s been empty for quite a while.’
‘What are you going to do with it?’ I asked. ‘Can we go and see it?’
‘Not today,’ said Jake dismissively and then looked at his watch, ‘we’ll go tomorrow. To be honest it’s a dark, damp little place, more trouble than it’s worth. If it was up to me I’d pull it down and save us the bother of keeping it.’
I was surprised by Jake’s comment and sudden change of tone. I’d never heard him talk disparagingly about anything to do with the farm. I decided not to enquire further, even though my mind was already abuzz with potential ways we could make use of the place. We arrived back at the house and Jake helped me pull off my newly christened wellington boots because I couldn’t manage to do it myself one handed.
‘This rose around the porch,’ I said, pointing at the fresh young tendrils that were winding their sinuous way through and about the front of the house, ‘it’s a rambler, isn’t it? It looks to me rather like the one Monty was talking about on Gardeners’ World the other week.’
‘Actually,’ smiled Annie who had come to the door, ‘it’s the very one. I thought you said Amber didn’t know much about the countryside and gardening, Jake.’
‘Well,’ he smiled, ‘she’s a quick learner, isn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ Annie smiled back, ‘I think she is. Now come inside and let me have another look at that hand.’
When Jake had warned me how quickly Fenland weather could change I admit I hadn’t taken all that much notice, what with the clear sky overhead and the sun smiling down through the dappled shade of the willows. That afternoon it had felt like the warmth would last well into the evening. However, as we climbed out of the taxi in Wynbridge and I leant over the bridge to get my first proper look at the River Wyn in all its glory, the icy blast that hit me square in the face offered a very clear lesson in what he’d meant.
‘Come on,’ he said, pulling me back and guiding me across the road, ‘let’s get inside.’
I took a deep breath and clung to Jake’s hand as if it were my one and only lifeline.
‘You aren’t nervous, are you?’ he asked as he lifted the latch and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
‘Of course I am,’ I croaked, ‘can’t you remember how you felt when we first started going out in London?’
Jake shrugged and turned to look at me and I realised just what a ridiculous question that was. Of course he couldn’t remember being nervous or feeling socially awkward because he never was. He’d always fitted right in, wherever we went. It was that effortless, laidback style of his that had nudged me into falling in love with him in the first place. As we stepped over the threshold I couldn’t help wishing that some of his confidence had rubbed off on me.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he smiled, giving my hand a comforting little squeeze. ‘Everyone’s going to love you. Harriet and Jess already do.’
Knowing the pair of them were going to be there was the one thing that had stopped my nerves getting the better of me. Had I not met them earlier in the day I most probably would have refused to leave the farm for at least a few more days. Their kindness had given me some reassurance that the trip into town wouldn’t be a complete car crash.
Chapter 11
The Mermaid turned out to be a low-ceilinged, traditional pub with a welcoming fire in the hearth and an equally warm welcome from the owners, Jim and Evelyn. Jim was a beast of a man, but I could tell straightaway that it was his tiny wife who really ran the show.
‘Jake, my boy,’ she cheered as we pushed our way through to the bar, ‘you’re back and, according to local gossip, for good this time!’
‘I am,’ Jake beamed, ‘but I’m not alone, as I daresay you already know!’
Evelyn threw back her head and laughed.
‘Evelyn,’ said Jake, forcibly pushing me in front of him, ‘this is Amber. Amber, this is Evelyn,’ then added in a mock whisper that was plenty loud enough for her to hear, ‘the one I warned you about.’
Evelyn laughed her rich throaty laugh again and leant across the bar to cuff Jake who ducked out of the way. It was a manoeuvre he’d clearly exercised before.
‘Hello, my love,’ Evelyn smiled at me, a twinkle in her eye. ‘Welcome to The Mermaid. I would shake your hand, only, as I understand it, you’ve had a bit of an accident.’
I held up my bandaged hand to confirm what she had heard and wondered whether it had been Harriet or Jess who’d told her.
‘Why Annie can’t have an electric bloody kettle like the rest of us is beyond me,’ Evelyn tutted, rolling her eyes. ‘But don’t you worry, my love, we aren’t all stuck in the dark ages.’
‘Oh, it was my own fault,’ I insisted, determined to defend Annie and her way of doing things at the farm, ‘I’ve got a lot to learn.’
Evelyn looked at me then for what felt like a very long few seconds. I couldn’t help thinking that she was weighing me up, just like Annie had done when I first arrived. Unable to return her gaze I fiddled distractedly with my bandage while she made up her mind. Thankfully I must have met with her approval because the next minute she was offering me a drink and Jake a pint of his usual on the house.
‘Look,’ he shouted above the noise once we’d got our drinks, ‘there’s Harriet waving at us! You lead the way and I’ll follow on with the glasses.’
I squeezed my way through, past a group of musicians who were laughing and tuning up around an old piano while chatting to their expectant audience, and into an altogether quieter spot which had another fire and a couple of comfortable-looking sofas.
‘I knew you’d come!’ said Jessica, jumping up and rushing over. ‘Come and meet Henry.’ She pulled me to the sofa where she had been sitting next to a guy who complemented her in every possible way. ‘Amber,’ she said, ‘this is Henry, my thoroughly fabulous fiancé.’
‘Well, I don’t know about the fabulous part,’ Henry smiled, feigning embarrassment, ‘but the fiancé bit is right enough!’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ I laughed as Jessica retook her place next to her beloved and I sat myself opposite with Harriet on one side and Jake on the other.
‘So,’ said Harriet, before I’d even had a chance to take a sip of my drink, ‘how has your day been?’
‘Brilliant,’ I nodded, ‘really lovely. Jake gave me a tour of the farm and, apart from the hand, I’m still in one piece, so I’d call that progress, wouldn’t you?’
Before Harriet had a chance to say anything Jake leant across me to address her.
‘Yes, Harriet,’ he frowned, ‘what did you go telling Evelyn about Amber’s accident for?’
‘She didn’t,’ Jessica quickly cut in. ‘I was telling Henry wh
en we were at the bar and she heard me, although how God only knows. She was right down the other end!’
‘Because she has the hearing of,’ Harriet stopped to consider exactly what she could compare Evelyn’s miraculous hearing to, ‘well, whatever creature has great hearing.’ She frowned across at Jake, looking far more offended than I would have expected. ‘You should know me better than that, Jake,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’m offended you even thought it was me. You know I can’t abide gossip.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jake, looking sheepish, ‘seriously, I’m sorry. I should have known better.’
‘A bat!’ Henry suddenly shouted.
‘What?’ said Jake and Harriet together.
‘According to Google,’ said Henry, holding up his phone and reminding me why my hands, in spite of the bandage, felt so empty, ‘the bat has the best hearing in the world.’
‘Now you wouldn’t happen to be talking about my good lady, would you?’ chuckled Jim as he walked past to the bar with an armful of empty glasses.
‘No,’ we chorused and burst out laughing.
Red faced and grinning we each took a swig of our drinks and settled back on the sofas.
A couple of drinks later and I was feeling much more relaxed. I’d even joined in the chorus to one of the songs the local band had treated us to.
‘So,’ I said, looking at a slightly flushed Henry, ‘what do you do for a living? I know all about the girls’ jobs, but you’re still a mystery.’
‘Well,’ said Henry, setting down his half empty glass, ‘my official title is estate manager of Wynthorpe Hall, which lies just south of the village of Wynthorpe itself, but these days with so much of the original estate sold off, it’s nowhere near as grand as it sounds. I also act as a land agent for a few local farmers and land owners who are looking to buy and sell land, according to their bank balance of course.’
‘Sounds interesting,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing there’s more selling than buying going on at the moment.’
‘I couldn’t possibly say,’ he said with a wink, ‘but on that note, Jake, have you thought any more about the cottage?’
‘No,’ Jake shot back testily, ‘I haven’t.’ Then he added in a slightly more affable tone, ‘Give us a chance, mate. We haven’t even finished unpacking yet.’
‘Well, you don’t want to leave it too much longer,’ Henry said seriously. ‘Time is ticking and the place won’t look after itself, you know.’
‘Yes,’ said Jake, ‘I do know.’
‘Is this the cottage you mentioned earlier?’ I asked. ‘We didn’t get to see it today, did we, Jake?’
Jake shook his head and took another pull at his pint. He never took his eyes off Henry.
‘Well,’ Henry shrugged, picking up his glass again, ‘all I’m saying is, you don’t want to leave it too much longer.’
Hearing Jake’s sudden change in tone and seeing Henry back off so quickly ensured my interest in the cottage was well and truly piqued. Clearly there was something mysterious about the place and Jake didn’t want anyone talking about it, especially, it seemed, in front of me. I made up my mind there and then to ask Annie for the keys so I could go and have a look at the place myself the next day, assuming Jake didn’t offer to take me, which I couldn’t now imagine for a second that he would.
‘Have you heard about the fair?’
Jake, Harriet and I twisted round in our seats to look at whoever had asked the question.
‘Oh hello,’ said a woman, smiling down at me. Her freckled face was framed by a riot of unruly red curls and her complexion, beneath the freckles, was as pale and smooth as porcelain. ‘You must be Amber.’
‘Yes,’ I nodded, ‘I am. Hello.’ I still couldn’t get my head round the fact that everyone seemed to know my name and yet I knew so few of theirs. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’
‘And you. I’m Lizzie. Lizzie Dixon from The Cherry Tree Café. I run the place with my best friend Jemma.’
Now that was one place I did know the name of.
‘Of course,’ I smiled, ‘Jake has often waxed lyrical about the luscious red velvet cake and dreamy frosting you have on offer.’
‘And what do you think of it?’ Lizzie asked expectantly.
‘Oh,’ I said, my cheeks burning, ‘I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m sure it’s delicious.’
Lizzie turned her attention to Jake, her green eyes sparkling.
‘So what happened to all those pretty little cakes I boxed up for you when you were heading back to London? “This is a little something for Amber,” you always told me, Jake Somerville!’
‘They never made it that far,’ Jake mumbled guiltily into his glass. ‘Sorry, Lizzie.’
‘What about “sorry, Amber”?’ she teased, tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Though I suppose it’s a compliment really. Come and see us soon, Amber, and we’ll treat you to the selection you should have sampled already!’
‘Thank you,’ I laughed, ‘I will.’
‘So,’ Henry beamed, ‘Jake has a sweet tooth, does he, Lizzie?’
‘Oh and you can be quiet!’ Jake laughed. ‘You know as well as I do that you’re in there every lunchtime for your caramel cupcake order!’
‘Is he really?’ Jessica asked, raising her eyebrows and turning her attention to her fiancé. ‘You’re supposed to be trying to lose a few pounds before the wedding!’ she frowned. ‘Can you refuse to serve him please, Lizzie? Unless he’s ordering a skinny latte, kick him out.’
‘I couldn’t possibly do that,’ Lizzie said mischievously, shaking her head and making her curls bounce all the more, ‘these two are our best customers!’
‘So . . . what’s all this about the fair?’ Harriet asked, saving the guys from further blushes.
‘Apparently it isn’t happening this year,’ Lizzie answered, her tone completely changed as she delivered the news.
‘What?’ everyone shouted, then began bombarding each other with questions and talking over one another in a bid to discover if anyone knew exactly what was going on.
‘The Harrisons have withdrawn the field,’ Lizzie announced above the din. ‘They said they’ve had enough of playing host and it’s high time someone else put up with locals traipsing all over their land.’
‘But the May Fair has always been on their land!’ said Jessica, echoing the sentiments of the rest of the group. ‘It can’t just not happen!’
‘Yes, but remember,’ Lizzie reminded them, ‘when it started up again, what was that, getting on for ten years ago now, the agreement was that various families would take it in turns to play host and that has never happened, has it? The Harrisons have been lumbered every year because no one else has ever come forward. Personally,’ she added with a sigh, ‘I think they deserve a break.’
‘I agree with Lizzie,’ said Henry. ‘Everyone just assumes it will happen there every year now without question and it really isn’t on. Old Mr Harrison isn’t getting any younger and he’s got enough on his plate what with losing his wife last year. He doesn’t need to be worrying about the fair on top of everything else.’
Another woman, who I later discovered was Jemma, wandered over as Henry was talking.
‘Tom told me the council are going to refuse to grant the fairground owners a licence this year if they can’t find another suitable site and they won’t let them back on the rugby ground car park, so my guess is it won’t happen at all. And it won’t be just the fair we miss out on of course, but the candyfloss and rides as well!’
‘Who’s Tom and what’s the May Fair?’ I whispered to Jake who was looking as outraged as everyone else.
‘Sorry, Amber,’ he said, picking up my hand and kissing it. ‘I forgot you aren’t familiar with the local social calendar. Tom is Jemma’s husband. He works for the council,’ he explained, ‘and the fair is an annual country show which celebrates the area. Traditionally it has been held as close to May Day as possible and before everyone is engrossed in the rigours of harvest time.’
&nb
sp; ‘Lots of craft people and community groups come together,’ Jessica continued, picking up the thread, ‘there’s a dog show, gymkhana and lots of classes for everyone to enter. Annie usually wipes the floor with her sewing entries, doesn’t she, Jake?’
‘She does,’ Jake laughed but then his smile faded, ‘but not last year. She wasn’t well enough to take part and I’d hate for her to miss out again this year.’
‘Well, in that case, I’m even sorrier to be the bearer of such bad news,’ sighed Lizzie, ‘but unless another site becomes available, we’re all going to miss out.’
‘Three weeks, Tom said,’ Jemma called over her shoulder as she and Lizzie rejoined the crowd around the piano. ‘Three weeks to find another venue, otherwise it’s all off.’
Chapter 12
I didn’t get much more sleep during my second night at Skylark Farm than I had the first. Thankfully the rain had stopped and the metal bucket was, for the moment at least, redundant and consigned to the bottom of the wardrobe. I got the impression, given that there was a specific space for it amongst the boxes and bags, that it had been in regular use for far longer than Jake initially thought.
But it wasn’t the rain that kept me awake that night, or the dogs. Ever since Jemma had shouted the deadline for the May Fair over her shoulder my brain had been off and running and I was wondering what my chances were of convincing Jake and Annie to offer the two meadows beyond the orchard for the event. Access to both, from what I’d seen, was more than adequate because the gates were next to the road and you couldn’t have wished for a more idyllic setting for a country fair, but would Jake and Annie agree with me?
There was nothing more important to me at that moment than settling into life at Skylark Farm. Dan, Dubai and my meeting with Simon were already forgotten and my London existence felt light years away. I wanted to make a worthwhile contribution that showed everyone just how committed I was to making my new life in the country work.
Everyone I’d met so far had made me feel so welcome and I couldn’t help hoping that hosting the May Fair at the farm would be the perfect way to repay their kindness. Obviously the fact that everyone seemed to already know every detail about me and my life so far was going to take some getting used to, but in a way I kind of liked it. Being part of such a close-knit community was a novelty to me and although I realised it had its pitfalls I couldn’t help thinking that, from what I’d seen thus far, the benefits outweighed them.