Summer in the Orchard

by Fay Keenan

  ‘Gran’s had some health problems over the years and she needs keeping an eye on,’ Sophie continued. ‘When I started training to be a cider maker, it all seemed to fall into place, meaning that Mum could finally do what she wanted to do, without worrying about Gran or me. They were always close, even after Dad died.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your dad,’ Alex said, his brown eyes full of sincerity. ‘It’s hard to lose a parent.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sophie replied. ‘I was young when he died, which sort of makes it easier. I guess that’s why I wanted to stay close to Gran when I started work; to make sure she stays around as long as possible.’

  ‘I get that.’ Alex smiled. ‘But haven’t you ever wanted to travel, though? Isn’t that the dream of all island dwellers: to get off the island?’

  Sophie laughed. ‘I have actually left the island, as you call it, from time to time,’ she said. ‘But going straight into a job from school made me grow up pretty fast. A lot of my mates went for the gap year option, and then on to university, and now they’re still paying off mountains of debt. I wanted to earn enough to support myself if I decided to travel. And as it turned out, I’ve been able to visit some amazing places through this job anyway. I’ve been to orchards in Australia, the United States, Holland… and all paid for by Carter’s.’ Not to mention the odd deeply unsuitable girls’ holiday, paid for by her own wages, she thought, deciding not to share the experiences of her Ibiza and Kefalonia days. Alex definitely didn’t need to know about those.

  ‘Carter’s invested in you and your training, then?’ Alex said. Sophie noticed the peculiarly intense look on his face.

  ‘Yes,’ Sophie replied. ‘Matthew, well, the whole family really, are keen to develop and then hang onto their people if they can. It’s always been a family concern; it’s just that the family tends to include a lot of the employees as well these days. Especially those like me who’ve been working here since school.’ Privately, Sophie wondered what would happen when the current generation, Matthew and Jonathan Carter, handed over the reins to the next one. She didn’t know Matthew’s daughter, Meredith, all that well, and she still wasn’t sure if Meredith was, indeed, going to be taking over the business when she was old enough.

  Meredith Carter was in her first year of a History degree at York University, her father’s alma mater, and as yet showed very little sign of wanting to come in and learn about cider making. It was sometimes difficult for Sophie to remain objective about Meredith; she herself had spent ten years working for a firm she was passionate about, whereas Meredith had been born into the family and would, in all likelihood, just take over the reins when it was time. Part of Sophie resented her for that. She had nothing against her personally, but it didn’t sit entirely well with her that someone should just be handed the keys to a very successful business by virtue of birth.

  ‘It’s nice to know they treat their family so well,’ Alex said quietly. She was just about to reply when she saw that Lily was on her way back from the kitchen with a tray containing a jug of home made lemonade and three glasses, and a plate of scones. ‘Here, let me take that, ma’am’ Alex said, springing from the swing seat as she approached.

  ‘Thank you, my lovely,’ Lily replied, raising an eyebrow at Sophie as Alex turned back to the table and set the tray down. ‘Gentleman,’ she mouthed behind his back. Sophie ignored her as best she could.

  ‘So, Alex, is this your first visit to the UK?’ Lily poured three tumblers of lemonade, passed one each to Sophie and Alex and then settled back into her chair with a creak.

  Alex took a sip of his drink, and Sophie was tickled to observe that he was doing his best not to wince at its sharpness. Her grandmother’s lemonade was an acquired taste. ‘No, although I was quite young when I visited before. Mom was quite the Anglophile, and she brought me to London when I was ten to see the sights. I suppose we just did what most tourists do, although we did head off into the New Forest for a couple of days after seeing the usual places. I fell in love with London, and I wanted to come back some time, but then life and work took over.’

  ‘What was your favourite place to visit?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Hampton Court Palace,’ Alex said. ‘I’ve always loved history, and it was like walking through a time warp, seeing it all unfolding in front of me.’

  ‘So, now you’re back in the country, are you planning to visit again?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Alex replied. ‘That’s why it’s so nice to be working with Carter’s for the summer. There’s certainly enough history and heritage in the business to fascinate anyone. I want to learn as much as I can while I’m here.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ Lily said wryly. Sophie noticed the odd look on her grandmother’s face as she said it. ‘And you’ve got the perfect person beside you to fill you in on the local history. Sophie knows all there is to know about Carter’s Cider – she even did a talk to the sixth formers at the local secondary school recently.’

  ‘Only because Matthew Carter asked me to,’ Sophie said. ‘And the students weren’t exactly what you might call receptive.’ Although, Sophie thought, the story about Jonathan chucking someone in the vats went down well.

  ‘More interested in drinking it than learning about it?’ Alex said lightly.

  ‘Something like that.’ Sophie smiled. ‘But who knows? Perhaps there will be a new crop of apprentices in a year or so.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Alex said. ‘It seems like a good family business to be part of.’

  ‘I can’t complain,’ Sophie said, sipping her drink.

  As a companionable silence fell over them, Alex took a last sip of his lemonade and then glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better get going,’ he said. He put his glass back down on the table and then stood up. For a moment he towered over Sophie where she still sat. She noticed, again, with a jolt, that scar on his slightly bowed knees. She blushed as she realised that she was, yet again, staring at his legs. She really must get hold of herself.

  ‘Thank you so much for the drink, Lily,’ Alex was saying as Sophie zoned back into the conversation.

  ‘It’s my pleasure, Alex. Please do be sure to pop in again soon. You can go out of the back gate if you’d like.’ She pointed across the garden to where there was a wooden gate in the wall. ‘It’s a bit of a shortcut back to High Street, and since you’re staying at Rose Cottage B & B it’ll save you a couple of minutes.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Alex smiled at Lily and then turned briefly back to Sophie. ‘I’ll see you at work on Monday.’

  ‘Yes, nine a.m. sharp,’ Sophie said. ‘See you then.’

  Alex gave her a brief smile and then walked across Lily’s garden to the gate. With a click, he’d vanished through it.

  ‘You want to watch that one,’ Lily observed as she put her glass down on the garden table.

  ‘What do you mean, Gran?’ Sophie refilled both of their glasses with the last of the lemonade.

  ‘He’s not all he seems.’ Lily took her glass in still steady hands and before she raised it to her lips she looked her beloved granddaughter straight in the eye. ‘Don’t get me wrong, he’s perfectly charming, and seems very nice, but he’s got more up his sleeve than a magician at a children’s party.’

  ‘Oh, Gran!’ Sophie laughed. ‘You think everyone’s up to something. What could Alex possibly have to hide?’

  ‘He’s not just here to learn about cider, you mark my words. He could have done that in Canada.’ Lily regarded her granddaughter levelly. ‘He’s here for something else.’

  ‘You spend too much time listening to The Archers.’ Lily had often tried to get Sophie to listen to the BBC’s radio soap opera, but Sophie had made a vow to herself to wait until she was at least thirty before she gave it a try. Sophie offered the plate of scones to her grandmother, but Lily waved her hand away impatiently. Shrugging, Sophie took one instead. Alex hadn’t taken one, she noticed. Perhaps he was still acclimatising to West Country stodge.

  ‘You need feeding up,’ L
ily said, nodding in approval. ‘You’ve been looking a bit thin lately.’

  ‘As if,’ Sophie muttered, taking a bite of her scone.

  ‘I mean it,’ Lily replied. ‘Those Carter boys work you too hard. And as for that chief cider maker of yours…’

  ‘David’s all right,’ Sophie said, putting the scone back on the plate.

  ‘Mark my words, my girl. If Jack Carter was still alive, things would be very different.’

  ‘Oh, Gran.’ Sophie smiled. She knew her grandmother had always had a soft spot for the late chairman of Carter’s Cider, and the two had had many a lively chat over the years; they’d even made up the odd bridge foursome when Jack’s wife Cecily and Lily’s husband Seth had been alive. ‘Things change. They have to. We’ve got to move with the times.’

  ‘But enough about that. Back to that young man of yours.’ Lily’s eyes twinkled.

  ‘He’s not mine,’ Sophie said hurriedly. ‘I’m just meant to be teaching him the tricks of the trade. David would have been a better fit, but Matthew wanted me to do it.’

  ‘You sell yourself short,’ Lily said. ‘You’ve been working there for over ten years now. I’d say that means you know a thing or two about blending and tasting, don’t you? If that’s what young Alex is really here for.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You mark my words.’ Lily raised a finger to emphasise the point. ‘That boy wants more than just a crash course in which apples go best with what. You only have to look him in the eye to know that.’

  Sophie shook her head in exasperation. Her grandmother could sniff out the drama in any situation, whether there was any there or not. Her theory, that all life was a narrative, had both fascinated and amused Sophie since she was knee high to a grasshopper. ‘I think you’re reading too much into things. As usual.’

  ‘You’ll see,’ Lily said mysteriously. Her eyes assumed a faraway expression for a moment. ‘Time will tell with that one.’

  ‘You’ve been reading your own novels again, Gran,’ Sophie teased. ‘Life’s not a sweeping love story, you know. Not everyone has an ulterior motive, and not everyone needs a Prince Charming.’

  ‘So, you admit you think he’s charming, then?’

  ‘Gran! I’ve got to work with him. I can’t go thinking like that.’

  Lily refrained from comment while she had another sip of her lemonade. ‘Nothing wrong with thinking,’ she said eventually. ‘After all, as you say, you will be working with him for the next month or two. And he is a rather good looking chap. Better than the last one you went out with, anyway. And such nice manners.’

  ‘No. Comment,’ Sophie said. ‘Now, is there anything you want me to do for you before I go home?’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of doing anything that needs doing,’ Lily said shortly. ‘You worry too much.’

  ‘I know you are,’ Sophie said patiently. ‘But since I’m here, it’s only reasonable to ask.’

  ‘You get off home and get your beauty sleep, my girl,’ Lily said. ‘You’d better look your best for Mr Canadian Dreamboat when you see him at work on Monday.’

  Sophie stood up and leaned forward, kissing her grandmother goodbye. Lily really was incorrigible.

  6

  Alex found that the days were slipping past with alarming speed. He’d learned so much already, but he couldn’t help thinking that in a few months’ time he’d be back home again, and he still hadn’t worked out exactly how he was going to come clean about the other, more personal reason he was here in Little Somerby. The more time he spent working with the Carters and their employees, especially Sophie, the more he liked what he saw, and the harder it was getting to envisage a situation where he could tell them the truth.

  And, there were other things to consider. He found himself more and more drawn to Sophie. Her passion, her enthusiasm for her craft, her desire to develop new blends and push boundaries in cider making; it was as if she embodied the spirit of the business he was trying to emulate. If only he could bottle some of her ideas and take them back home with him. It wasn’t just her passion for cider that he liked, either. She was kind, warm, thoughtful and decidedly attractive. Despite his initial vow to stay away from romantic relationships, in his more confident moments he’d considered asking her out, but what would happen if she said no? That could get really awkward, considering she was overseeing his internship. And, more frighteningly, what if she said yes? Could he handle a new relationship, especially one that would be long distance? Did he trust himself to? Sophie was too honourable to play around with.

  He would soon be working his way around the different parts of the business, though; Matthew had arranged for him to do a few days in the different departments, including shadowing him for a day or two, so perhaps he should risk it. But to what end? He’d be leaving at the end of September, and she was definitely a fixture here. What would be the point? He wasn’t really one for holiday flings, and he didn’t want to start something with Sophie that he couldn’t finish.

  ‘Homesick?’ Sophie asked as she slipped back into the office to find him staring into space.

  Alex shook himself back to the present. ‘Sorry. Just trying to get my head around everything you’ve given me to read. I’m going to be working in the cannery and the tech specs for the equipment are blowing my mind.’

  ‘As will the noise, unless you get fitted with some ear defenders!’ Sophie smiled. ‘It makes my ears ring every time I have to go in there.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Alex replied. He glanced back at the paperwork. ‘I don’t know how much more of this is going to go into my head before I have to see it in action.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Sophie said. ‘I might be testing your cider knowledge, but the boys on the canning floor aren’t likely to want you to do anything more than observe. And possibly unjam the machines where necessary.’

  ‘That’s a relief.’

  ‘Look, since you’re not really concentrating on all those facts and figures, why don’t you stretch your legs and take an early lunch? I’ve got some paperwork to finish off, and I’m sure you could do with the fresh air.’ Sophie smiled. ‘Maybe come back to it later?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s nearly lunchtime anyway.’

  ‘OK, sure,’ Alex said. He wasn’t making much headway anyway, and fancied some fresh air before he was called to the rather more industrial floor of the cannery. ‘I’ll see you later?’

  ‘I’ll be here,’ Sophie replied.

  Exiting the small office, Alex wandered out across the courtyard. As he did so, he noticed that the lights were on over in the site’s newest building, the museum and archive. Not yet open to the public, it was a repository for all of the papers and photographs that Matthew’s wife, Anna, had dug out of the tea chests in the attic at the family home, Cowslip Barn, shortly after she’d married Matthew. Overwhelmed with a sudden craving for information, Alex decided to take a look. Officially, it wasn’t open, but he figured, as an employee, he could try his luck. Striding over to the timber and glass building, he slipped in through the door.

  Alex couldn’t help but take a sharp breath as he looked around him. The custom built museum was a stone’s throw from the cider shop on site, its oak beams and glass elegant and reverential. Inside the building was the complete history of the Carter family, from Samuel Carter’s early days in the shed with a wooden cider press to the state of the art enterprise that Jonathan and Matthew now presided over. Everywhere were photos and artefacts that showed the long, shared heritage of the Carter family. It was impressive, emotional and very, very tribal.

  Alex’s eyes were drawn to the photo gallery of the most recent generations of the Carter family. There, on the walls, were Jonathan and Matthew, going back in time to when they were younger men, then teenagers, then schoolboys. In some photos they were posing with the orchards in the background, in others they had pints of cider in their hands. And there, next to his sons in some of them, and then alone as the photos grew more
tinted with age, was Jack Carter, their father.

  The picture that caught Alex’s eye instantly was one that was taken in the early 1980s. Jack was standing in what was a much smaller shop, a glass of cider in his hand, caught in the moment chatting to one of the Somerset farmers who used to frequent the farm on their tractors. He was smiling, carefree, totally at home in his environment. Alex searched the expression of the man in the photo. It was a carefully curated image, a crafted moment put on display for public appreciation and consumption. A photograph intended to promote a certain impression of a man who went so much deeper than a snapshot in time.

  ‘Hello! Can I help you?’

  A voice broke into his thoughts and he struggled to return to the present, as a tall, willowy, dark haired young woman sidled into the museum.

  ‘Hi,’ Alex replied. He realised from the girl’s height and colouring that she could only be Matthew’s daughter, Meredith. ‘Sorry to intrude – I was just curious to see how the museum was going.’

  The young woman extended a hand for Alex to shake. ‘Meredith Carter – Merry, to most people. I’m just popping in to add a few more pieces to the archive before I start my shift at The Cider Kitchen.’ Meredith was working at the flagship restaurant on the Carter’s Cider site during her university holiday, as she had done when she was still at school. Run by her uncle, Jonathan, and her aunt, Caroline, it was going from strength to strength and drew customers from far and wide to sample the very best of Somerset’s opulent produce, as well as Carter’s own cider. ‘You’re Alex, right?’ she continued. ‘You’ve come over from Canada? Dad was telling me you’ve got a cider farm in Vancouver.’

  Alex smiled. Sophie had warned him that before long everyone would know who he was and why he was here; it was the very nature of the Little Somerby grapevine.

  ‘That’s right. It’s nice to meet you, Merry.’

  ‘You too.’ Meredith threw him an inquisitive glance. ‘Are you swotting up in case Sophie and David set you a test?’