Despite everyone eating enough for all the Sundays of December, the trial products were cut up, distributed and yoghurt scooped and exclaimed over.
“Do you sell these onsite?” Bec asked. She and Todd hadn’t been introduced to the Bunyatree products before.
“No,” Daniel responded. “I distribute all through town and within two hours of here. As the products are fresh, they can’t travel further than that.”
“It’s funny you say that, Bec. I’ve another idea too. What do you think of introducing farm tours? I haven’t thought it all through yet. It could be either each day at a certain time, or perhaps just weekends, and if we did that, maybe we could have a fenced area with animals for the children to feed and pet and naturally, what goes with tourists but merchandise and products, right?”
Everyone wholeheartedly agreed.
“That could work, Daniel and Vivienne,” Robert piped up. Daniel’s father spoke little but when he did, it was worth listening. “This crazy farming scheme you’ve been operating for years is of interest to people. The common folk will travel to see how your robots milk cows. And when people are here to see these modern farming practices, they’ll want to try the milk, the cheeses and other products that this milk has made and there’s always people, I don’t understand it myself, that will want a hat or a scarf or a notebook or other such paraphernalia that reminds them of their trip to Bunyatree Dairy.” As a last parting warning, he added, “but keep it to dairy, if you start making soft drink or paella, I think the effect will be lost,” and with that he’d said his piece.
The room had been silent listening to Robert’s monologue. Priscilla smiled on, standing close to him. Even the children had gone quiet.
“Let me get a photo of everyone,” Ned said, getting out his iPhone. He gathered people in close. “Jackson has signed me up to Facebook so I can show people what I’ve been doing and post photos and stuff.”
“How many followers do you have now, Ned?” asked Harris, a cheeky grin displayed.
“So funny, aren’t you, little monkey? I explained I don’t yet know that many people, so it’s tricky getting people to ‘like’ me. Now, let me just have a look. Hah! I’m up to six! Fantastic!”
“Ned, search my name. We can be friends,” Bec offered.
“Yes, me too, Ned,” Robert said deadpan. By way of explanation, he said, “I like to follow the news pages that provide instant updates.” This, everyone did accept.
“Can you believe it? Look at this!” Ned flashed his screen around. He grabbed Daniel and shoved the phone in his face.
Daniel sat with a thump, thoroughly engrossed.
“What is it?” Vivienne asked, moving closer.
Daniel passed it to her.
He and Ned exchanged glances, waiting for Vivienne’s reaction.
“Holy shit,” she uttered.
Vivienne scanned the images. Estelle Winthrop draped across a bronzed, young, shirtless man on a golden beach with sailboats on the horizon; another in front of the statue of Venus de Milo with her wearing her trademark red lipstick and what looked like a faux fur across her shoulders. Pearls sat at her neck. Vivienne scrolled through photo after photo, Monaco, the Swiss Alps, Eiffel Tower at dusk, a cruise liner– no expense spared. Each picture demonstrated her in various poses with either other elegant ladies or strapping foreign men.
“Do you think that she used any of the fundraising money to pay for this trip? I know it sounds crazy. If she did, that’s a crime, right?” said Ned.
“I’m not a criminal lawyer,” Vivienne reminded him, “but taking money for purposes that it was not provided for, does amount to a crime. Stealing at the very least.”
Dumbstruck Vivienne peered at Daniel who sat mutely.
“Would she actually do that to you?”
“I’ll be dammed,” Ned shook his head and hugged Ruby close.
Daniel rose. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and won’t bother us anymore.” He moved toward Vivienne and embraced her. “Things have worked out perfectly.”.
***
Late in the afternoon, the sun sat low on the mountaintops, giving out its last balmy heat for the day.
Vivienne and Daniel sat entwined, a tangle of arms and legs on the deck basking in the sun’s glow. Ginger straddled Vivienne’s lap. Marshmallow clouds scattered the sky, blue patches revealed underneath.
Vivienne drank in the smell; one of her favourite parts of life in Rosebrooke. She remembered that first morning she’d rocked up, her flawless dry cleaned suit, matching shoes and business-like manner. But that aroma had not left her, even back in Brisbane, whilst she couldn’t inhale it, it remained distinct: apple crisp, delicious, she could almost eat it. It would always be one of her favourite things. Of course, that list keep lengthening, awaking each day to new wonderings and discoveries of life on the farm and in the country.
As if on cue, Big Red, Scarlett and Westie scurried past followed by little Willow—the calf she’d named and delivered.
Likewise, she’d not forget that little calf, even when she grew into a milk-producing and profit driven animal. Her mocha colourings had Vivienne fall in love with her immediately, with white patches on her face and one hoof. To her, she’d always be a pet, but the realities of life meant she’d be a contributing cow before long, and as Daniel reminded her, that was her job, what she was built to do.
Inevitably, each time they saw the calf, they looked at each other, words unspoken but full of memories. Secretly, she couldn’t wait until more calves arrived, perhaps another one before the season was out. But she longed for next spring, for by then she’d have been a permanent fixture on the farm for twelve months.
Vivienne could not wait.
Gazing between each other and Willow, Daniel and Vivienne watched the cow pass. Colton and Sarina in the front garden, now resembling a children’s oasis with a little tidying up and restore, stopped to pat her at the fence before she wandered on. Cows mooed in the distance, birds settled for the night, tummies sated, the children squealed and spoke loudly and the gentlest of breezes rose over the rise.
Perfect.
Her life had not been perfect. She’d suffered, experienced trauma and tragedy along with great sadness, but with that baggage and scars to her soul, it enabled her to appreciate the scene she found herself front and centre in, and consider it perfect.
Daniel leaned over and whispered. “This is magic, isn’t it?”
Vivienne had to agree.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Leanne Lovegrove is a lawyer, wife and mother and a lover of romance and reading. Her law career has caused her addiction to coffee but provides her with countless story ideas. Leanne lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband and three children.
You can find Leanne:
web: www.leannelovegroveauthor.com
Instagram: Leanne Lovegrove - Author
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