She puts some photographs on a table and holds out the rest to Simon.
‘Oh dear, p-p-pictures of us? N-N-Not sure I’m up for any more s-s-shocks t-t-today.’
Amy takes them instead. There are of scenes and people she has forgotten but loves to see. Parties and meals and walks, a picnic by a stream, some faces she does not recognise. How young we were. How hairy and trim and dreamy and really rather luscious.
‘Mummy, I’m hungry,’ Peter says.
‘Of course you are, Peter. Daddy and I will take you back for some food.’
The Strattons leave for the farmhouse. Amber says that four of them must have ‘stuff to discuss’ so she’ll go for a walk. She gives David the thumbs-up sign as she leaves the cottage.
‘I need alcohol,’ he says. ‘This is all rather unexpected.’
‘Easy come, easy go,’ says Maggie which irritates everyone for different reasons.
‘Only one can of beer left in the f-f-fridge. Rest was finished last n-n-night, sorry m-m-ate. And my name’s on it.’
‘So our inheritance has been rescinded. Is that the right phrase?’ David says.
‘What about the pub?’ says Maggie. ‘Someone said they sell quite nice wine there.’
‘God, this is a blow,’ says Amy. ‘Not owning the cottage. I think I’m devastated.’
‘There’s always F-F-France, darling, a cottage in N-N-Normandy like we d-d-discussed…’ Simon says.
‘Dirty old Seymour,’ says Maggie. ‘Never liked him.’
‘It was proving to be a bit of a hassle,’ says David. ‘What was?’ Amy says.
‘The cottage. Expensive for a start.’
‘You always were tight, David,’ Amy replies. ‘I’ve always wanted to come back here again…’
‘Well, I’m off to India,’ says Maggie. ‘Can’t wait actually. Just got to find a home for Merry. I was wondering, Amy, if…’
‘I’m skint. I don’t have enough to buy anything else,’ David sounds wounded.
‘We d-d-don’t want a d-d-dog, Maggie, and that’s f-f-final.’
‘Simon, are you quite sure? A dog would get you out of the
house each day and Chloe will be off to university soon. Empty nest and all that.’
‘I guess I can go on tour with Amber now,’ David says.
‘The boy has to be found before he can inherit the cottage,’ says Maggie, ‘I mean, he might be dead.’
‘Maggie, that’s a bit…’
‘We should tell them, Simon.’
‘Tell us what?’ David and Maggie say in unison.
‘We know where he is.’
‘Who?’
‘The boy.’
‘What boy?’
‘Seymour’s second son.’
‘You do? Why didn’t you say? Where is he then?’
‘Shall we go to the pub?’ says Amy.
Amy told Julian and Miriam she would leave the church promptly after the funeral and return to Wyld Farm to get things ready for the guests. Mrs Morle had outlived the few friends she made in her life but there are others who will want to celebrate her life: Andrew Bishop and his wife, the care home manager and Sunil Rao.
They will join Mrs Morle’s family, people she reconnected with only in the last years of her life. Because of her dementia, Mrs Morle was never entirely sure who Lynn was. But she liked the friendly lady who brought a delightful little girl to visit her in the care home. Mrs Morle looked forward to her husband’s visits, too. She did not realise it was Aubrey, her grandson, who escorted her around the garden. It made her happy to think it was Harry, so Harry he was.
Amy feels at home in the farmhouse kitchen. Her heels click on the flagstones as she fetches plates and chooses cutlery, arranges slices of the tarte tartin she brought from France on the Minton platter that was Seymour’s favourite. She can’t help it. She listens for his voice as though her former lover might burst into the room at any minute, all ebullient fizz and energy. If she ever felt anger towards him, it has dissipated. Now she wishes to thank him. In the maelstrom of life at Wyld Farm, Seymour had, in his own way, given her stability at time when she needed it most. It ripped her apart when he sent her away from her Arcadian dream in the Somerset hills. But now she sees it was the best that could have happened. From him, she gleaned what she needed from love. His rejection released her to go and find it.
The kettle boils quickly on the sleek new Aga. In the past three years the farmhouse has been modernised. Stone floors glisten, doors close with a snap, thick carpets and curtains keep the place cosy. The wild murals are gone, painted over in stylish taupe and vivid terracotta to set off big prints of Seymour’s black-and-white photographs. Two of Julian’s paintings are also hanging, abstract acrylics in bright colours. He has finally found the confidence to show the work he’s started in the last few years. At last night’s supper, Simon teased Julian and Miriam that Amy will write a feature story about their glamorous home for a glossy property magazine.
Despite the changes, the farmhouse still churns with dreams and gentle ghosts.
The sound of car doors slamming; there are voices in the farmyard. From the office window, Amy sees Aubrey talking to his mother, Lynn. The woman disappears into the cottage. It’s where she’s staying for the funeral; she needs to fetch something. Aubrey takes Daisy’s hand and tells his half-sister a joke; the little girl breaks into giggles. Julian and Miriam call for Peter and turn to see him holding open the farm gate so Simon can drive in. Everyone waits for him to park, then they walk together towards the farmhouse.
She is not ready, not yet.
Through the boot room and out the back door she slips into the garden. The vegetable patch has grown over and the fruit bushes are gone. Now there is a lawn, worn thin in patches near a football goal and a large trampoline. The flower borders are full of happy weeds. How gratifying it is to see the apricot tree is still here. She planted it against the warm garden wall when Seymour gave it to her. It’s ablaze with blossom and a breeze lifts the shock-white flowers into the air. Petals drift like snow.
Perhaps Chloe will eat its fruit this summer? Last night, as they stacked the dishwasher while their hosts put their son to bed, Aubrey confided in Amy and Simon. He said with a blush that now Chloe has finished her degree, the two have decided to start seeing each other again. That he wants to renovate Bramble Cottage. That he hopes Chloe will help him.
It made them chuckle, those plans of Aubrey’s; had them in stitches when they were getting ready for bed. Did Aubrey have any idea quite how lazy princess Chloe was? Amy has other thoughts that she does not share with Simon for she is not sure if her husband would understand. To her there’s a kind of moral beauty that Aubrey now owns the cottage. Possessing it allowed them all a nostalgic sashay into the past. It was no longer relevant.
How happy she is to think that Chloe might live for a time at Wyld Farm. Amy’s link with the place will continue through her daughter and, though it is hard to understand quite why, it is gratifying.
She can hear the murmur of voices through the open kitchen window, the guests for Mrs Morle’s wake. With a slow thankful breath, Amy steps back into Wyld Farm.
THE END
Afterword
In the 1970s, I lived and worked for a few years on a Somerset farm. I fell in love with the landscape and the life, and the things I did there formed the fabric and foundation of my life. Some of those experiences have influenced what’s written in this book but little bears direct resemblance to what we got up to. That’s for another book, perhaps.
A Note from the Author
I recommend these further inspirational foody reads:
The Fat of the Land by John Seymour and Sally Seymour
Food for Free by Richard Mabey
Organic Vegetable Growing by BG Furner
Easymade Wines and Country Drinks by Mrs Gennery-Taylor
Perfect Cookery by Marguerite Patten
The Tassajarra Bread Book by Edward Espe Brown
Acknowledgements
There are many people to thank for their support in the writing of this book. Greg Hodder, Sally Wilkinson, Hugh Constant, Michelle Fink, Richard Holmes, Toni Turner, Callum Holmes Williams and Kipper Williams.
Thanks also to my agent, Laura Morris, and to my publishers, Bloodhound Books.
A note from the publisher
Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it please do consider leaving a review on Amazon to help others find it too.
We hate typos. All of our books have been rigorously edited and proofread, but sometimes mistakes do slip through. If you have spotted a typo, please do let us know and we can get it amended within hours.
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About the Author
Wyld Dreamers is Pamela Holmes’ second novel following the bestselling historical drama The Huntingfield Paintress.
‘A genuinely original, utterly enchanting story’– A.N.Wilson
‘A slice of Suffolk history brought beautifully to life’– Esther Freud
‘an atmospheric and enjoyable story of a singular and free-thinking woman’– Deborah Moggach
Wyld Dreamers: a gripping drama about secrets from the past Page 21