Christmas at Hollybush Farm, page 20
‘Considering I was the one hiding behind the corporate suit, who would have thought I’d end up being the Social Shepherdess?’ I put up a picture telling everyone where we are, that they should like and share the post.
There’s music playing but I haven’t seen Dad or Myfanwy for some time.
‘Everything okay?’ Mae asks.
‘I’m a bit worried about Dad. He said he’d meet me back here, but I’m not sure where he is. I haven’t seen him since they set up the Tannoy and got the music going. That was quite a while ago.’
Mae looks around. ‘Okay, we’ll keep an eye out for him. And let others know if need be.’
I head back to the lorry and spark up the tea lights in a muffin tray, a little kitchen hack I saw on social media, and put the cawl and curry on to keep warm. I stand back and feel proud of how I’ve created these dishes, using instinct and memories. No books or measurements, just what I can remember. As Dad said, I’ve followed my heart.
‘Smells amazing!’ says Evie, poking her head into the back of the lorry. ‘Okay if I put my easy-up tent out here?’ She indicates the side of the ramp.
‘Fine, let me give you a hand,’ I say, going down the ramp into the lightly falling snow. Together we put up the easy-up and she settles herself in a chair. Owen comes over, kisses her and lights a fire in an upside down bin lid, on a circle of stones. ‘Will you be warm enough?’ he asks.
‘I will.’
‘Owen, have you seen Dad?’
He shakes his head. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for him,’ he says, and returns to his big barbecue with a spring in his step and Jess at his side in her Christmas scarf, which has had holly and mistletoe added to it.
‘It’s so good to see the two of you together,’ I say, trying to push any what-might-have-beens with Llew to the back of my mind.
‘It took me by surprise,’ she says, picking up her knitting. ‘I didn’t think I was ever going to feel anything for another man. But that night we spent in the café, just talking, we understood each other, the hurt, the loss, but also made each other smile. I don’t feel guilty, though I thought I would. I know he would be happy for me that I’ve found Owen.’
‘I do too,’ I say. I look up at the snowy sky and wonder where Llew is and if he’ll have the Christmas he hoped for.
At five o’clock, Owen opens the gates and the queue starts to pour in.
By six there’s still no sign of Dad and I’m really worried. What if he’s collapsed somewhere? Or what if he decided to tell Myfanwy and she doesn’t feel the same way? I shouldn’t have pushed him into it. What if he’s upset? Despite the money box being full, and there being lots of people around, I won’t relax until I know where Dad is and that he’s okay. I turn away and pull off my apron.
‘Shepherd’s pie, please. I hear it’s one of the best around, like the shepherd who made it.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m not serving right now …’ I stop in my tracks, my insides jolting, and slowly turn, staring at the familiar face, as if there’s nobody else around.
He smiles.
‘You’re back.’
He inclines his head.
‘For a decision on the field?’
‘I told you, that’s not my business any more.’
I frown. ‘Then’ – I swallow – ‘why?’
He stares at me. ‘Because I couldn’t stay away.’
‘Why?’ I say again, needing to hear it.
‘Because there was somewhere else, with someone else, I would far rather be.’
I go to step forward when I hear a shout. ‘Jem! Quick!’ It’s Owen, calling to me from the barbecue at the front gate.
‘Oh, what? Is it Dad?!’ I run to the ramp. ‘Owen? Where is he?’
I turn to Llew. ‘Look, there’s all sorts of things I want to say.’ Words and feelings canter around my head, meeting my worry about Dad head on. ‘But right now, could you look after the stall?’ I toss the apron to him.
‘Of course. You go.’ He moves seamlessly around and behind the table. ‘We have plenty of time to say what we need to say,’ he says, making me feel like home is within touching distance. ‘Go and find your dad!’ Owen bounds up the ramp, like the young Labrador he always reminded me of.
‘Hey, you’re looking happy!’ says Llew.
‘I am. It’s what finding love again can do for you, mate! Good to see you back!’
Llew looks between me and Owen. Just for a moment I say nothing, then: ‘Owen and Evie are an item. They got together over knitted dog scarves and leads!’
‘We’ve found your dad!’ says Owen, with a smile.
‘Is he okay?’
‘More than okay, I’d say!’ He points.
I look at Llew. ‘I’ll be back. I need to see Dad.’
‘Go!’ he instructs.
And with that there is a loud parp on a horn, followed by others. And there, rolling into the cattle market, is the first of many brightly coloured tractors.
‘Parp!’ the front one sounds again, an old Massey Ferguson, and there driving it is Myfanwy, Dad at her side, his arm around her, waving and smiling with a Christmas hat on and delivering a little Christmas kiss to her cheek. Happy tears spring to my eyes.
‘There’s always hope,’ I say, and turn my face up to the snowflakes, wondering if Gramps is looking down.
I hold up my phone and film the tractors coming into the market, one after another, all lit up and playing Christmas music. The people in the market are clapping as they rattle buckets of coins, ringing in their arrival. As I’m filming, my mother messages me from Australia. It’s her standard Christmas greeting. Hope you get what you want for Christmas. Happy Christmas, Love Mum x
I reply, wishing her a happy Christmas and sending her a clip of the tractor rally, knowing it would be anathema to her. She’s happy sitting on the beach in Australia with her new husband and other family. It’s fine. I’m glad she found her happy place. I’m happy being back in mine.
‘Hope is exactly what I wanted …’ I gaze at Llew, who smiles at me, making it impossible for me to ignore how he makes me feel and hoping he feels the same. After all, he’s here, isn’t he? Llew Griffiths is here, on his own, wanting shepherd’s pie and wearing an apron in the back of an old cattle lorry. A far cry from the smartly dressed country-gent outfit he arrived in.
He serves the next customer. My insides light up and settle into place: they are now exactly where they should be. I join him behind the table to serve shepherd’s pie while he dishes out curry and flatbreads.
The music is blaring out from the speakers and the tractors are all parked, adding extra light and excitement as the snow falls even heavier. Owen arrives in the back of the lorry but this time his face is not so cheery. ‘Jem, one of the boys on the tractors says there’s dog-walkers with dogs off the lead, heading towards your land. Thought you should know.’
‘Oh, no! Not again! I suppose she thinks we’re all here so she can let her dogs off the leads to worry the sheep. It’s not on!’ I slam down my spatula and run down the ramp. ‘We’ll have to close up if I’m to get back up there.’
‘Don’t worry, I can go,’ says Owen. ‘My truck’s out front. One of the tractor boys can take over on the sausages. I’ll make sure those people know to put their dogs on leads around the flock. Don’t worry.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask.
‘Sure I’m sure.’ He looks between me and Llew and smiles. ‘Just save me some dinner before you run out.’
‘Okay.’ I smile back. ‘Will do!’
He disappears down the ramp, kissing Evie, and Jess jumps into the passenger seat of his truck beside him.
I watch him leave and look over to where Mae is standing outside her horsebox. Another familiar figure is there. ‘Evie, what’s going on?’ I call, gesturing to Mae, who is talking with the young man, Josh, from Coffi Poeth. ‘What’s he doing here? And on Christmas Eve?’
Evie comes to stand next to me. ‘Looks like …’ She pauses to lip-read. ‘… He’s offering her a job.’
‘What?’
‘She can’t believe it,’ Evie interprets.
‘What kind of job?’ I say impatiently.
‘“If you want it,” he’s saying.’
‘But what kind of job?’ I ask again.
‘Manager of the café … and she gets to choose her own menu,’ says Evie.
‘Yes!’
I see the chain’s manager nodding. I look at Mae’s face.
‘“And I get to test new menus and you’ll roll them out in your other cafés?”’ says Evie. ‘“Yes, you know what works,” he’s telling her.’
‘“I do. I know what people can afford to spend too. How to make our shopping go further. And ready meals that don’t cost the earth. Jacket spuds that people can heat up at home.”’ Evie continues to translate.
‘“The bosses really do want to know more. Nutritious, affordable takeaways. They realize what’s going on here. People want good, home-cooked food. They’ve seen the social-media feeds.”’
Mae narrows her eyes. ‘What’s the catch?’ she asks.
‘”What’s the catch?” Mae’s asking,’ Evie relays to me.
‘“No catch” he’s saying to her “other than it’s Christmas and I thought you’d like to hear the news now.”’ Evie takes a sharp intake of breath. ‘He said he’d resign if they didn’t agree!’
We both look at them staring at each other.
Then watch as Mae drops her eyes. He’s watching her. She slowly lifts her head.
‘What’s she saying?’ I ask Evie anxiously.
‘She’s saying, “I don’t think I can. I’m sorry. Thanks for trying. But I can’t go back. Not after we’ve come this far. I want to find somewhere I can carry on selling my own food. Like here. If this works tonight, I’ll have a regular pitch.”’ Evie smiles as she translates, “she says she loves it.”’
He stares at her. ‘“I understand. And, if it’s of any consolation, I think you’re doing exactly the right thing. What you’re doing here is brilliant. You and Jem. I can’t wait for this to turn into something more permanent. I’ll suggest they put the jacket potatoes on hold. Too much local competition. But …”’
She looks at him.
‘“I did get them to agree to a bonus. Call it a payment in lieu of notice. A goodwill gesture.”’ He hands her an envelope. She opens it, stares into it, then throws her arms around him.
Evie and I hurry over to hug her, and her boys join in. She looks up at Josh. ‘This is my rent sorted. Thank you. Now I can have Christmas and pay the rent. Look, it won’t be much, but how about Christmas at ours? The boys are going to be made up when I explain they can have a present each from the sales. This is Jacob and this is Luke, by the way.’
‘Only if you promise to let me take you and the boys out for Christmas lunch …’
‘Really?’
‘Really. My way of saying sorry for all of this. You shouldn’t have had to do what you did to get them to see how badly you were being treated or for them to give you notice.’
‘I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have stamped on your foot like that.’
They look at each other and laugh.
‘So, you’ll let me take you to lunch tomorrow? There’s a hotel, out of town, but they have a table. I have it on hold. I was hoping you’d say yes. Your mum too. Like I say, my way of saying sorry.’
She looks down at the boys. ‘We’d love that.’
‘Christmas for one is never much fun,’ he says.
‘No,’ she says quietly. ‘I’m Mae, by the way.’
‘I know!’ He laughs.
‘And now it looks like I might be your problem.’
‘I’m Josh.’
‘Happy Christmas, Josh. And thank you.’ She looks up at the mistletoe over the door of the horsebox and I have a feeling I know where this is going as the boys cover their eyes and giggle.
‘Jem,’ I hear, as we turn away from Mae, who is kissing Josh under the mistletoe. It’s Bryn, the community policeman.
‘Shepherd’s pie, Bryn?’ I say, walking towards the lorry ramp.
He’s not smiling. ‘You’d better come. There’s been an accident.’
‘An accident?’
‘Is it Owen?’ Evie looks like she’s seen a ghost.
He shakes his head.
The words catch in my throat but I manage to say, ‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s Jess.’
33
We pile into the police car and Llew’s, leave the lively hubbub of the market and head into the snowy lane towards the farm. No one is speaking. All we can hear is the swish of the windscreen wipers batting away the snowflakes that are falling heavily now.
We pull off the road and up the track and see a figure in the field of ewes. It’s Owen. He’s hunched over. Llew pulls up beside him and we jump out. Evie is by his side in a flash, through the gate and running across the snowy grass. Owen is hunched over Jess and he’s cradling her in his arms, tears rolling down his face. He’s taken off his jacket to put over her. He looks up at Evie, and then at me following close behind her. ‘She was protecting the flock, like she’s always done. Following her instincts,’ he chokes out, through the tears pouring down his face.
Llew takes off his coat, places it around Owen and puts a hand on his shoulder. Evie is crouched beside Owen, sliding her hand into his.
Another car pulls up and it’s Mae, with Josh. I watch them get out and walk slowly towards us.
‘Is she okay?’ asks Mae.
I give a little shake of the head. ‘We should get her to the vet. I’ll ring the emergency number,’ I say.
‘I’ve rung them already,’ says Bryn. ‘They’re waiting for you, Owen. You just have to get her there.’
Owen shakes his head. ‘There were dogs, loose in the field. More than two. A group of holidaymakers, I think, with dogs off the leads. It was chaos. There was one dog, kept chasing the sheep, wouldn’t leave them alone. I tried to shoo him away. The owner had no control whatsoever! Jess jumped out of the truck and’ – a big sob – ‘that dog went for her instead!’
‘Like I say, I’ve let the vet know, and I’m on my way to see the owners now. Get her to the vet, lad,’ says Bryn.
Owen shakes his head again. ‘I … can’t …’
‘Owen, the quicker we get her there, the better.’
‘I can’t. I don’t have the money. Cancelled my insurance.’ He lays his head on Jess’s coat.
I look at Mae, who nods. ‘We’ve got that covered,’ I say. ‘There’s plenty in the buckets from the fundraising this evening.’
He looks up at me, eyes red and swollen. ‘You can take the truck,’ he says. ‘It’s all I’ve got, but it’s yours.’
‘Owen, I don’t want your truck! It would probably cost me more to keep it on the road. I just want Jess to get to the vet. Go now!’
He gives a little sniff. ‘You’re right. Yes. Thank you.’ He gets to his feet, Jess in his arms. Llew steps in to help. Evie tucks the coat around the dog and Owen’s shoulders, keeping her arm around them all the way to the truck.
‘Text us as soon as you know anything,’ I call after them.
Evie turns back to me, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘We will. Thank you.’
We watch them as the truck heads towards the main road and the veterinary surgery, tyres leaving tracks on the snowy drive.
‘I’ll be going,’ says Bryn, as upset as the rest of us. ‘Good job one of the tractor boys called me. And I had a call from the walkers, about a farmer antagonizing their dog,’ he says.
‘What? They rang the police to complain about Owen?’
‘Yup!’
‘Unbelievable,’ says Mae.
‘Out-of-control dogs harming livestock! A farm isn’t some playground!’ I’m enraged. ‘People’s livelihoods are at risk. And the animals’ wellbeing! Oooffff!’ I say and cover my face with my hands. ‘And now Jess. Owen loves that dog.’
‘When he’s been at rock bottom, she’s been there for him.’
‘Like he is for her now.’ I feel two arms wrap around me and pull me close. I can smell him, like pine and woodsmoke, and something close to hope.
I lift my head see the snowflakes in his hair and on his cheeks. ‘You didn’t expect this when you turned up here this evening.’
‘The thing about being around you, Jem, is that I’ve come to expect the unexpected.’ He smiles. ‘And I think I quite like it.’
I smile back. ‘I need to check the flock,’ I say to Mae. ‘Can you finish up at the food market?’
‘Sure.’
‘We’ll meet you back here with the keys.’
‘Leave the lorry, I’ll get it tomorrow.’
‘What about Mrs “You Need To Be Out At Midnight”?’
‘Stuff her!’ I say. ‘There are more important things to worry about tonight. And I’ll be letting them know that on social media. This might be the season of goodwill. It might be Christmas Eve. But that means treating others as you’d want to be treated. It’s about looking out for others.’
I reach into my pocket, pull out my head torch and put it on. Llew turns on his phone torch.
The ewes are cowering under the big oak tree.
‘You don’t have to stay,’ I tell him. ‘I can manage.’
‘I want to,’ he says. ‘I told you. I’m beginning to like the unexpected.’
And despite the misery of the night, the cold and the snow, my heart swells, and I know there is nowhere I would rather be than on the farm, and no one I’d rather be with.
34
When we finish checking the flock, we return to the farmhouse.
‘I’m going to check messages.’ I hold up my phone.
‘I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’
In the feed shed I sit on a bale and look through the window. In any other circumstances this would be the picture-perfect Christmas setting, I think, looking out over the fields on Christmas Eve with the dogs at my feet. I check my messages but there’s nothing from Evie or Owen yet about Jess.
Then I check the crowdfunding page and my mouth falls open.
