Hetty's Farmhouse Bakery

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Hetty's Farmhouse Bakery Page 26

by Cathy Bramley


  Tim began to gather up the picnic things and pack his rucksack. ‘I can feel rain in the air. Come on, Dan’s waiting for you. Do you think you can face him?’

  I nodded and stood up, my pulse racing as I looked down the hill to the valley and home. Poppy would be back soon; Dan and I needed to get our story straight before then. Although I had no idea what that story was going to be.

  Chapter 26

  Naomi was waiting in the kitchen when Tim and I got back. There was no sign of Dan.

  She pointed at the ceiling, reading my mind. ‘He’s gone up for a rest, but said to wake him when you got back.’ She ushered me in and automatically put the kettle on. ‘He’d like to talk to you as soon as he can.’

  My stomach was in knots. I nodded and looked away, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror. What a state I was in. It had begun to rain on the way downhill and the wind had picked up too. My hair looked like old straw bedding from the sheep pens: sodden and matted. My nose was running and my cheeks felt like they would never lift upwards in a smile again. And on top of that I was so, so tired. I flopped in one of the armchairs and closed my eyes.

  ‘Gareth Brookbanks just called.’ Naomi paused from clanking mugs and rattling spoons. ‘From Country Comestibles. Says he called and left a message on Friday?’

  The joy that developing my idea for Hetty’s Farmhouse Bakery had brought me had evaporated. Right now, the thought of me as a go-getting entrepreneur was laughable. I wasn’t sure I could keep my family together, let alone run a business. I kept my eyes shut, but I knew she was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

  ‘He wants pies for his shops,’ I replied.

  Tim whistled. ‘That’s a coup, getting stocked there.’

  ‘Hetty’s Farmhouse Bakery is an award-winning company, Tim. Locally and nationally. Of course he’d want her pies. Well done, love.’ She nudged me with her foot until I opened my eyes and held out a mug to me.

  ‘We’ve got eight hundred sheep to clip, a farmer with a fractured collarbone, lambs still to sell and a new branch of the family to absorb into the fold,’ I said tetchily. ‘Making pies for Country Comestibles is as far down my list of priorities as it could possibly be.’

  ‘Well, this one’s going down a treat,’ Tim mumbled through a mouthful of the summer pie I’d made earlier.

  Naomi raised her eyebrows and brushed crumbs from his chin. ‘Oh, didn’t you eat the picnic after all?’

  ‘Um.’ Tim looked at me for help and despite everything a gurgle of laughter escaped from my throat.

  ‘I ate most of it,’ I said, covering for him.

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Hmm. If you say so. Look, I need to get back to the farm shop; Tess has got the afternoon off to work on her friend’s garden and Edwin’s on his own. We often get a rush in bad weather like this.’

  I made to stand up but she placed a firm hand on my shoulder. ‘No need. But just … Anything we can do, Hetty, anything at all. We’re family. Please call and we’ll be straight over.’

  I nodded my thanks, my words stuck in my throat. Tim added his offer of assistance to his wife’s and they walked to the door.

  ‘Naomi?’ I cleared my throat to help the words out. ‘Did you see Anna at the hospital?’

  ‘Yes, love.’ My sister-in-law’s gaze didn’t falter. ‘I collected Dan from Bart’s ward and took him back up to be discharged by his own doctor. Bart was groggy but he recognized me. He asked me to persuade Anna to go home for a rest but she refused. She said she’d go as soon as she’d seen the consultant. The nurse said that if Bart continued to improve he’d be transferred out of intensive care this afternoon.’

  ‘When he left, did Dan …’ I paused to sip my tea, my throat was so dry it hurt to swallow. ‘Did Dan kiss her?’

  ‘Oh Hetty.’ She smiled sadly at me. ‘There’s no need to worry about that. Dan clasped Bart’s hand and told him to take care, but he didn’t touch Anna.’

  ‘Thanks.’ That was something at least. I blew out a shaky breath and squeezed my eyes tight to ward off tears.

  The kitchen door closed and after a minute or two the rumble of Naomi’s van disappeared into the distance. The house fell silent. With a racing heart, I went upstairs and tiptoed into our bedroom.

  Dan was fast asleep. He lay on top of our bed, naked except for his boxer shorts, one arm in a sling pinned across his chest, the other resting on top of the duvet. His broad shoulders and muscular chest were red with vicious bruises and my fingers ached to stroke them. His stubble didn’t normally get this long and as I crept closer I could see flecks of silver at his temples. The curve of his lashes, his full lips, his strong jaw … I was still angry with him but I loved him too. My emotions rushed up at me and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out.

  ‘What a mess,’ I murmured under my breath. ‘Where do we go from here?’

  He flinched in his sleep, his brow tightening and then relaxing, and I slipped out of the room, half relieved, half disappointed that I hadn’t had to talk to him yet.

  Outside, the dogs, now back in their kennels, started to bark and I crossed to the landing window to see what the disturbance was. I felt the blood drain from my face: Anna’s car was coming up the track towards the house. I stepped quickly out of sight. Surely she couldn’t think I’d want to see her today?

  I stayed where I was, heart pounding, hoping that she wouldn’t just walk straight in as she normally did. As far as I was concerned normal rules had been suspended; no more open house at Sunnybank Farm. But there was no knock, no breezy ‘cooee?’, and after only a minute or so I heard her engine start up again. I watched her drive off and a chill ran down my spine; my best friend had left and the only emotion I felt was relief. Thank goodness; she must have had a change of heart at the last minute.

  I leapt into action then to take my mind off matters and for the next half an hour I shut myself in the kitchen to avoid waking Dan and put the radio on while I tackled the pile of ironing. I only stopped when my phone rang. It was Poppy.

  ‘Hi, Mum, how’s Dad?’ She sounded all breathless.

  ‘He’s in bed asleep. How are you?’

  ‘Having a nightmare!’

  ‘What’s up?’ I gripped the phone. What more could go wrong today?

  ‘Matilda and I went to the park and when we came back her mum and dad had gone out so we’re locked out and it’s raining.’

  I exhaled. ‘Is that all? Why can’t you phone them?’

  ‘We did. They didn’t pick up. Matilda thinks they’ve gone to some church thing in Holmthwaite. Can you come and get us? We’re soaked.’

  The two of them giggled and the relief at knowing nothing awful had happened made me smile.

  ‘No problem, Mum’s taxi is on its way.’ I unplugged the iron and scooped up my bag.

  I opened the kitchen door and paused, wondering whether to wake Dan and tell him, but decided against it. It was as I opened the door that I spotted an envelope with ‘Hetty’ scrawled on the front in Anna’s writing had been pushed under it. She’d obviously driven over earlier to deliver it.

  Not now, Anna, I thought, shoving it into my bag. It was still raining and I dashed to the car, dumped my bag on the back seat where I couldn’t reach it and set off for Matilda’s house. The petrol light came on straight away and I swore under my breath, wishing for the umpteenth time that I’d got a diesel engine so I could have used the farm’s pump. I’d intended to fill up on the way back from the hospital, but I could barely remember the journey back, there’s no way I’d have had the presence of mind to stop off at a garage. I glanced at the clock: four o’clock. My heart sank. The local petrol station only opened until noon on a Sunday. Still, I’d be fine, I’d never run out of fuel before and I’d driven on empty loads of times. Matilda lived on the road between the farm and Holmthwaite, it wasn’t too far. I’d be fine …

  I turned on the radio to stop myself from speculating on the contents of Anna’s letter and turned ou
t of Carsdale, heading uphill on the winding road to Holmthwaite. At the top, I suddenly felt the judder of the engine through the steering wheel. I snapped the radio off and listened as the car coughed and whirred and then cut out.

  Shit. I lowered my head to the wheel and groaned.

  I was facing downhill. Ahead of me was a small passing point, and using the clutch and brake, I steered the car as it slowly rolled down the hill. I pulled into the passing point, put my hazard lights on and retrieved my phone from behind the seat.

  A text message had come through from Poppy.

  Forget it Mum, we’re fine now. We found a note from Matilda’s dad and a key under the mat xx

  At least that was something, I thought to myself, peering out of the rain-smeared windscreen. The rain had eased off and was now just a slight drizzle; by Lake District standards it was nothing to worry about. But I was about a mile and a half from home and I didn’t fancy abandoning the car on this hill. I had no choice but to phone Naomi to come to my rescue again.

  She answered immediately and assured me it was no bother; the cavalry would be on its way shortly. I turned the radio back on quietly and unclipped my seat belt while I waited, watching the pattern of raindrops on the windscreen. I scrolled through my messages to kill time and then dropped my phone back in my bag on the passenger seat. The corner of the letter from Anna was sticking out. I stared at it and then, with shaky hands, I pulled it towards me. I didn’t know if I wanted to read what she had to say, but inevitably, curiosity got the better of me and I tore the envelope open.

  Chapter 27

  Dear Hetty,

  I know sending a letter is cowardly when I could have called in person, but as you now know I’ve been behaving like a coward for more years than I care to remember. Also, I really need you to learn some things, and I know you well enough to believe you’ll read this to the end whereas if I knocked on your door I’d fully expect you to turn me away.

  There are no words to describe how I feel about myself but ‘disgust’, ‘shame’ and ‘grief’ go some way towards it. In doing what I have done I have ruined the best relationship I have ever had in my life.

  Hetty, I love you. So much more than as a friend. You’re my best sister, role model and cheerleader all rolled into one. Since we were kids, you have picked me up, dusted me down and set me on the right path again. I have no right to ask for you to return that love.

  I know Dan is out of hospital so by now he will have probably told you his version of events and I need to tell you mine.

  Whatever I say, however I describe what happened on that horrendous Duke of Edinburgh expedition to Wales, you probably can’t think any less of me than you do now. So on that basis I’m going to tell you straight and leave you to decide.

  I’ve never been loved or cosseted by anyone. At best my gran tolerated me, at worst I was a burden she never asked for. Even though your parents had emigrated, they loved you. Dan loved you. Everyone at college loved Hetty Wigglesworth. And, for one night, I wanted to know what that felt like. To be as loved as you.

  It had never crossed my mind to steal Dan from you. I had never wanted him as a boyfriend. And this is no excuse, I know that, but I was eighteen and after first getting lost on the mountain and then Tasha ending up in hospital, I was down and exhausted and homesick and, if I’m honest, a little bit drunk.

  Please don’t blame Dan for this. It was all my doing. We were sitting around the campfire and someone was trying to cheer us all up by singing. I was too miserable to join in and started to cry. I caught Dan’s eye and he mouthed at me, asking if I was all right. I gestured towards my tent and he followed me. I didn’t stop to think about how wrong it was, or what the consequences might be. It was one time, Hetty, please believe me. It never happened again; we both regretted it the next day and didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. Dan was torn apart with guilt and couldn’t live with what he’d done. So much so that he felt compelled to finish with you to punish himself. I didn’t see him again until after my gap year, I promise.

  The consequences from that night couldn’t have been more life-changing. My horror eight weeks later when I realized I might be pregnant is indescribable. By then you were living at Sunnybank Farm with Dan. The happy couple. Meanwhile, I was in Thailand carrying his baby with no one to confide in and no one to blame but myself. Maybe if you and Dan hadn’t got back together, I could have told him, but there was no way I was going to ruin your relationship a second time around. I was so lucky that the maternity hospital I was volunteering at took me under their wing and cared for me.

  Spending my year abroad without friends and family around me was tough, but deciding what I was going to do at the end of my gap year was even tougher. Your letters kept coming, a true friend as ever. The thought that I’d lose you if our secret came out used to make me sob with fear. I couldn’t see that I had a choice; I had to keep the father’s identity to myself. I made just one concession to Dan in Bart’s name, which no one else would guess. Bartholomew means ‘son of a farmer’. I knew I’d have to return to the UK because I had no way to support myself in Thailand, but being the coward I am, I couldn’t bear the thought of going somewhere new where I wouldn’t know anyone and I knew that you’d welcome me home. So I took the easy option and came back to Cumbria.

  I am so sorry that we’ve been living a lie right under yours and Dan’s noses all these years. And Bart’s and Poppy’s, come to that. I felt that Bart would become a better person for having you both in his life. And I truly hope that you understand why I asked you to be his godparents.

  As Bart has grown up, the deceit surrounding who his father is has been eating me up. It has been a privilege to have your friendship. I knew that I owed it to Bart and to Dan to reveal their true bond but I have been dreading the day that the story would come out for fear of losing you. Over the years, I’ve rehearsed countless scenarios in which I tell you all the facts. I never once imagined it would be across a bed in an intensive care unit while my precious boy was fighting for his life. I’m so, so sorry for blurting it out like that.

  Now the truth is out there, I have no choice but to tell Bart quite soon that Dan is his father. After nearly losing him, I feel like I’ve been given a chance to be honest with him. I felt you should know so that you and Dan can decide what, if anything, you tell Poppy.

  Hetty, I have so many regrets, so many, but the biggest is that I know how much this will have hurt you. It might give you some comfort to know that Bart and I will be moving out of the area as soon as we can. At least we’ll be out of sight if not out of mind.

  I have no expectations in sending you this letter other than that I hope you will be able to forgive Dan, even if you can’t forgive me. He and I both made a mistake, but his ended a long time ago and my deception has gone on for years. You will always be the best friend I’ve ever had.

  Love always,

  Anna x

  Oh Anna.

  I crumpled the pages to my chest and cried for the pain my friend had gone through both then and now and for the loss of the simplicity of the friendship we had shared since we were teenagers. Could we get back from this? Could Dan and I recover from this? My head throbbed with the pressure of dealing with too much emotion. I closed my eyes and blotted out the world.

  A gentle knock on the window startled me and I clutched at the letter as a face appeared beside me.

  ‘Hetty?’ It was Dan peering through the glass, frowning. ‘Are you okay? You were miles away.’

  No, I wanted to yell. I was anything but okay. I nodded and pushed the door open and got out.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  The rain had completely stopped but the air was warm and I felt claustrophobic in the humidity. We stared at each other for a long moment; he looked as tongue-tied as I felt. He had a petrol can in his hand and lowered it to the floor, scratching his jaw self-consciously.

  ‘There’s no instruction manual for this situation, is there?’

  I sho
ok my head and looked left and right but there were no other cars. ‘How did you end up being the one to come?’

  ‘Naomi rang to tell me what had happened. I wish you’d rung me.’

  ‘You were asleep.’ I ran a hand through my hair, not meeting his eye. ‘Besides, you can’t drive at the moment.’

  ‘Tim brought a can of petrol over. He offered me a lift but I wanted some fresh air. Clear my mind. Why didn’t you wake me before, at home? I asked Naomi to tell you to.’ He touched my chin, forcing me to look at him.

  My mouth had gone dry. Hardly surprising; I’d cried so much today I must have been completely dehydrated.

  ‘I …’ I lifted my shoulders. ‘I didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘And you’ve been crying. What’s the letter?’ His eyes flitted to the pages I’d left scattered on my seat.

  ‘From Anna. She says she’s sorry and that she’s going to tell Bart everything. So I guess we’ll have to tell Poppy.’

  ‘Shit.’ Dan rubbed his fingertips over his stubble. ‘I never knew about Bart. You do believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘I do believe you.’

  And I did. Although he had kept his affair with Anna a secret, I didn’t think he’d have been able to stand back and not be a father to Bart had he known. At heart, Dan was a decent man, I had to remember that.

  He touched a finger to my cheek and my body trembled.

  ‘Today must have been awful for you. It’s been a shock for me. I mean, having a son … That’s, well, I’m blown away.’

  I stared at the ground, anger growing like a ball of heat in my chest. ‘Yeah. My best friend gave you the only thing I couldn’t.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve never been bothered about having a son.’

  I looked at him, remembering his tears after the miscarriage.

 

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