by Heidi Swain
‘Not to worry,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long time. I was going to talk to you at Gwen’s funeral, but I never got the chance. I did pop along to the pub, but that solicitor chap had collared you before I did, so that was that. He didn’t half set tongues wagging when he took you off like that.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’m glad we’ve finally been reacquainted.’
‘As am I,’ he nodded. ‘You’ll have to let me know if you want a hand sorting out the veg patch,’ he added with a nod to the currently weed-strewn plot.
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘I know it’s a bit late to get going now.’
‘Not at all,’ he quickly cut in. ‘We could have that cleared, manured and dug, then leave it over the winter, that way it’ll be in peak condition for a fresh start next year.’
The little patch certainly deserved a fresh start and I have to admit I felt a little bolstered by the idea of making such a long-term commitment.
‘Hey!’ called Mags. ‘This is all very lovely, you two, but time isn’t moving any slower.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, rushing to the back and inelegantly bundling myself inside. ‘Where’s Ed?’
‘He’s already at the farm with his dad,’ said Mags, passing me the basket of rolls and waiting until I’d found the least uncomfortable position on the cushions she had provided as a concession to comfort. ‘They’ve been there all afternoon helping to set up.’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered again as she huffed impatiently while I shifted position and thought how much I was looking forward to finally meeting Ed’s dad. ‘Well come on,’ I scolded when I was finally settled. ‘Isn’t it about time we got on?’
She slammed the door, plunging me into near darkness and then we were off on what was probably the most uncomfortable journey of my life.
Skylark Farm, as far as my jangling bones could tell, was about the same distance as the cottage was from Wynbridge, not that I had any idea in which actual direction we were heading, of course, because I was more focused on hanging on to my basket of rolls as we bounced through the potholes. When Mags finally drew to a halt, turned off the engine and ran around to throw open the back doors, I sat temporarily stunned and a little dizzy as my eyes grew accustomed to the change in light levels again.
‘We never thought you were going to get here,’ tutted Ed, as he helped me stand up with a fine disregard for the fact that my skirt had ridden halfway up my thighs. ‘Practically everyone else is here already.’
I took a deep breath and checked my outfit over to make sure I had arrived in one piece, even if that piece was now slightly crumpled around the edges.
‘You look nice,’ said Ed, wrinkling his nose. ‘Bit posh, but Mum’s always telling me “you never get a second chance to make a first impression”,’ he mimicked.
‘Is that right?’ I muttered, reaching for the basket of tumbled rolls. ‘Well, thank you, Ed, I’ll take that as a compliment.’
As Mags helped George out of the passenger seat, I took the opportunity to look at the other cars parked in the yard. The first I saw made my stomach drop to the floor. Will’s truck was there, but then, I countered, so was Matt’s work van, so I hoped the evening would balance itself out on the man front.
‘Come on, then,’ said Ed, who was growing impatient. ‘Come and say hello to everyone.’
Taking a deep breath, I set off with him, Mags and George, past the beautiful old farmhouse and flower-packed garden, towards the orchards, which I could see were draped in pretty bunting and beginning to sparkle with hundreds of fairy lights in the fading early evening light. There were straw bales arranged in squares to serve as seating and a delicious smell of hog roast filling the air along with laughter and the faint strains of music.
‘Lottie!’ waved Amber, when she spotted me.
She rushed over, taking my arm and steering me towards the bales where everyone was chatting.
‘Thanks, Ed,’ I called over my shoulder, but he was already gone.
‘He’s on car park duty,’ said Amber. ‘And he’s taking his role very seriously.’
‘Talking of rolls,’ I said, trying to offload the basket of my first ever attempt at bread-making. ‘I made you these. They aren’t very good, I’m afraid, but I thought as this was a Lammas party.’
‘Oh Lottie,’ she beamed, squeezing my arm, but not taking the basket. ‘That’s lovely. You can give those to Annie. She’ll be thrilled. Then I’ll introduce you to everyone and give you that tour of the bungalow I promised.’
Amber’s Auntie Annie was a formidable woman. Barely taller than me and with paper-thin skin, she could unnervingly look me in the eye with her periwinkle gaze which suggested that she could see much more than just my physical form. She weighed me up for some seconds before taking the basket and I gabbled on about what I had discovered about Lammas and harvests and sunflowers.
‘Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air,’ she smiled when I eventually ran out of steam. ‘I swear most of this lot only turn up for the free cider these days!’
I could tell she was teasing her guests, but I could also see that she was pleased I’d made the effort and I began to relax as Amber poured me a glass of Skylark Scrumpy and introduced me to the rest of her friends.
Harriet, Rachel and Lizzie I already knew of course, but there was also Lizzie’s partner Ben, who was in deep conversation with Matt (who looked up and gave me a butterfly-inducing wink as Amber called out names), Jessica and her husband Henry, and finally Simon and Jude, who ran the vintage store in Wynbridge. Thankfully there was no sign of Will.
I was disappointed to learn that Jemma and her husband Tom wouldn’t be coming because their babysitter had let them down, but listening to the sound of laughter and the crackling of the fire pit Amber’s handsome partner Jake had just lit, I guessed this was not the night for talking business anyway.
‘Have I missed the introductions?’ asked a chap who wandered up accompanied by Ed, just as Amber slipped off to check her daughter Honey was being entertained from the comfort of her buggy before she was put to bed.
Truth be told, there were no need for introductions, as this guy was a carbon copy of Ed, or perhaps I should say, Ed was a carbon copy of him. Thick curly, dark hair and glasses, this was obviously Ed’s father.
‘I’m so pleased to meet you at last,’ I said, pumping his hand and feeling that through his son I had actually met him already.
‘I’m guessing you’re Lottie,’ he said, smiling Ed’s smile.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m Lottie Foster, your new neighbour.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Lottie,’ he said, ‘and I’m Liam, but I’m not your neighbour.’
I was going to ask what he meant but was cut off by Amber who called to me from the edge of the orchard.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I have to go. Amber’s promised to give me a tour.’
‘No worries,’ Liam smiled. ‘We’ll catch up again later.’
Amber and I strolled through the orchards; she introduced me to the animals and then unlocked Meadowview. It was every bit as beautiful and authentic as I imagined and I could have easily spent the entire evening ensconced on the sofa admiring her handiwork.
‘We’ve got guests arriving in the morning,’ she told me. ‘Sunday isn’t our usual handover day, but these are honeymooners who are travelling down after their reception tonight.’
‘Well, it’s the perfect spot to hide away in for a few days,’ I said. ‘It’s truly wonderful, Amber. You’ve certainly a great eye for detail.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled, as she straightened a cushion and ran her hands over the rose-patterned curtains. ‘I was lucky Annie had so much treasure in the loft because these days it’s getting harder and harder to find bits and pieces like this for sensible money.’
My own experience confirmed that she was right and I knew I was going to have to shop carefully if I was going to add some authentic touches to the vans I had hidden away in the barn. Fortunately, however, her next com
ment reassured me that I might not have to look too far from home.
‘Simon and Jude take trips to French sales now on the lookout for bits and pieces that will suit what their UK customers are looking for,’ she explained as she began to lock up. ‘Not that that’s a hardship, of course.’
Their shop sounded like the perfect local starting point should my fledging business idea ever make it out of the nest.
I could hear the noise of the gathering had increased since Amber had spirited me away and guessed that the delicious Skylark Scrumpy was playing its part in loosening tongues and adding more warmth to the occasion. I was relieved to find I wasn’t the focus of attention as we rejoined the group and felt that, here at least, I was amongst friends rather than a nosy group of tittle-tattlers like those I had seen and heard in town.
‘Lottie!’ called Jake, handing over the responsibility of the hog roast to Henry. ‘So tell me, what do you make of the place?’
‘It’s wonderful,’ I told him. ‘You have so much going on here. I think it’s amazing.’
‘Well, thank you,’ he said, looking suitably flattered, which was my intention as I meant every word. ‘And from what Amber tells me, you’re going to have a lot more going on at Cuckoo Cottage after tonight.’
‘Am I?’
‘Is she?’ asked Matt, who had wandered over to join us, bringing with him another glass of cider for me.
I made a mental note that this was already my second and I hadn’t eaten anything yet. This one was definitely for sipping.
‘You’re going to pick out some hens, aren’t you?’
‘Oh yes,’ I nodded, feeling relieved.
For a horrible moment I had thought Amber had told him about the vans and that he was going to spill the beans to all and sundry. I had no intention of keeping them under wraps forever but until I had the plans for them settled in my mind I didn’t want them to be common knowledge.
‘I’d forgotten all about that.’
‘Come and do it now,’ said Jake, pointing back towards the house, ‘before it gets too dark.’
‘Well, I . . . ’
‘Ed said you were all set up with the coop and run and I can give you some straw and grain to tide you over,’ he added encouragingly.
‘Come on,’ said Matt. ‘I’ll help you choose.’
‘All right,’ I said nervously. ‘But you have to help me pick the most robust because I haven’t got a clue what to do with them. If they’re going to thrive at Cuckoo Cottage they’ll need to be pretty self-reliant.’
Together we walked back towards the house and then Jake, pointing me in the right direction, went on a quick detour with Matt in search of a crate or box that he could use to keep the chickens in overnight.
My gaze dropped to my now dusty shoes when I spotted Will standing at the run with Ed, looking at the hens before they were shut up for the night.
‘Lottie,’ said Will, stepping forward before I had a chance to say anything. ‘I almost didn’t recognise you . . . ’
‘Please don’t say with my clothes on,’ I cut in under my breath.
‘That wasn’t what I was going to say at all,’ he said, sounding surprisingly embarrassed.
‘So what were you going to say?’
‘Other than that you look lovely, sorry, I suppose,’ he said, burying his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Because I had no idea I’d run you off the road and into those nettles.’
‘Well, you should be sorry,’ I scowled. ‘I could sue you for the damage you inflicted on my legs.’
His gaze dropped to my skirt and I felt myself bristle under his scrutiny.
‘You were driving far too fast down that road,’ I swallowed.
‘I won’t any more,’ he announced, his eyes flicking back up to my face. ‘I’ve learned my lesson and, for what it’s worth, I really am very sorry, and if it’s any consolation, I did manage to save Mr Tibbs’ dog, Tess.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was heading to an emergency,’ he explained. ‘The crazy pooch had managed to get under the wheels of a delivery lorry and had come off worse. Although the driver was pretty shaken up,’ he added, biting his lip.
I was pleased he had saved the dog but couldn’t help wondering if another emergency explained the speedy driving I’d witnessed on previous occasions. However, I was let off having to ask as Jake and Matt came back empty-handed and shaking their heads.
‘Believe it or not, I can’t find anything suitable,’ said Jake. ‘Nothing big enough to keep them comfortably tucked up in overnight anyway.’
Exactly how many chickens was he expecting me to have?
‘I think we’ll have to do this another day, Lottie. I’m ever so sorry.’
I was just about to say it didn’t matter when Ed rushed in to save the day.
‘Why don’t you just put the ones Lottie wants in the other coop?’ he said, pointing across the yard to a little wooden house that didn’t have a run. ‘Then transfer them to one of the small pet carriers in the shed in the morning for the trip to the cottage. It’s only up the road, after all.’
‘I really don’t want to be any bother,’ I insisted. ‘Let’s just do it another day.’
‘No,’ said Will. ‘Ed’s right. If someone can drop them to you early tomorrow that will work a treat.’
‘No one will want to turn out early on a Sunday,’ I said, ‘especially after such a late night.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Jake shrugged. ‘I’ll be up for the animals anyway so I could bring them.’
‘Well, as long as you’re really sure,’ I said, biting my lip.
‘Absolutely,’ he said, striding into the hen run with Ed hot on his heels. ‘It’ll give me a chance to talk to you about my truck.’
His arrival in the hen’s domain was met with much squawking and flapping, so I didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant, but the rolling in my tummy suggested it wasn’t going to be something I particularly wanted to talk about.
Chapter 14
I had absolutely no idea which birds to pick, but with the impact of two half-pints of Skylark Scrumpy coursing through my teeny-tiny system, watching Ed and Jake trying to gather up the birds was, to my slightly hazy mind, highly amusing. Apparently this was way after the hens’ normal bedtime and as a result the little birds were hilariously flappable.
‘Why don’t you just go for that one?’ frowned Matt, pointing to one that was bigger than the others at the furthest end of the run.
He was clearly bored with proceedings, nowhere near as amused as I was and itching to get back to the party.
‘Because she wants eggs, you idiot,’ puffed Ed, as he quickly clamped another startled hen under his arm and brought her to the fence for me to have a look at.
‘I know she wants eggs,’ Matt bit back, sounding even more childish than Ed. ‘That’s why I’m helping her choose chickens!’
‘But that’s a cockerel,’ said Will quietly, as he pointed to the bird Matt had picked out.
I couldn’t help but laugh, even though Matt was frowning up at Will with something like intense loathing.
‘Oh dear,’ I giggled after another sip of cider. ‘You know as much as I do, Matt. Well done us.’
I was trying to make him feel better, but given his obviously unaltered expression, I’d failed, miserably. I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the job in hand.
‘They’re smaller than I thought they would be,’ I admitted, again probably showing myself up as equally ignorant of all things fowl as Matt was. ‘I thought they’d be bigger.’
‘These are all young birds,’ Ed explained patiently as he stroked the little lavender lady under his arm, ‘but they’re bantams anyway so they won’t actually get all that much bigger than this.’
‘Well, I have to have her,’ I said, poking my finger through the metal fence and stroking her silky head. ‘She’s lovely.’
‘So just two more to go,’ said Will. ‘What about that little grey?’
‘Two!’ I said, taking a step back. ‘Don’t they lay an egg a day? What am I going to do with over twenty eggs a week?’
‘Three is a traditional number of hens,’ said Ed, with a shrug. ‘But it’s up to you, of course, although you must have more than one.’
‘And they do only lay small eggs,’ joined in Jake, bringing over the grey Will had pointed out.
Matt, I noticed, had now gone very quiet amid his fellow poultry fanciers.
‘All right,’ I said, giving the nod to Will’s choice. ‘I’ll have her as well and that little darker one who’s making eyes at the cockerel.’
I looked back at Matt and winked and he began to grin. I was relieved to have won him round. I had no desire to fall out with my builder before he’d even made a start on the cottage repairs, assuming of course that I did decide to offer him the work.
With the girls carefully carried across to the other coop for the night we made our way back to the party.
‘Shall I get us something to eat?’ offered Matt as the others peeled off. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’
‘Yes please,’ I said, as I spotted Mags and Liam sitting close together next to the fire pit. ‘And I’ll find us a seat.’
‘So have you picked your hens, then?’ Mags asked as I plonked myself next to her on the straw bale.
‘Yes,’ I said, jumping back up again as my still sore calves met the scratchy straw. ‘Ouch. Bugger.’
‘Here you go,’ said Liam, hopping up and laying his jacket across where I had been hoping to sit.
‘No, it’s OK,’ I said.
‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ he said, sitting back down next to his good lady. ‘Mags told me what happened. Are you OK now?’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Yes, I’m fine. My calves are still a bit sore, but there’s no permanent damage. So,’ I chattered on, keen to make up for all the times I had monopolised my conversations with Mags, ‘how long have you two been married?’
‘Married?’ she spluttered, spitting out her mouthful of cider and fanning the flames of the fire pit, which crackled in excitement at her impromptu alcoholic addition to their vigour.