Appleby Farm (3 page)

More than that, I loved the fact that he knew me so well. My favourite jobs have been those where I could spend time outside. My idea of absolute hell is being desk-bound like my housemate, Anna, who is a web designer and barely moves more than five metres in an entire day.

‘Can I plant them outside, then?’ I said, dragging my eyes back to the seedlings. ‘I quite fancy a bit of fresh air.’

Charlie rolled his eyes and chuckled. ‘I don’t know why you work in a café when you’re so mad keen on the great outdoors. You should be a park ranger or a policewoman or something. But no, sorry, they’re not hardened off yet. Here, stick these in instead.’

‘Peas! Oh, I love these!’ I said as he handed me a tray of sturdy pea plants. A picture of me hiding in Auntie Sue’s veggie patch floated into my head, sitting in the sunshine, popping fat peapods with my thumbs and eating the contents like sweets.

Charlie chuckled indulgently. He dispatched me towards a wigwam of bamboo canes and we both settled into our tasks. I knelt down in a patch of low sun and began to dig a small hole. I sprinkled a bit of fairy dust into it and then placed a tiny pea plant into its new home. I knew it wasn’t fairy dust. Obviously. It was just far nicer to think of that than what it actually was, which might have been very nutritious for plants but absolutely stank.

Policewoman.
I started to laugh.

‘It’s the handcuffs, isn’t it?’ I shouted over my shoulder.

‘What is?’

‘That’s why you imagined me as a policewoman. So that you can play with the handcuffs. I know your game, mister.’

‘Er, excuse me, Miss Moorcroft,’ Charlie laughed indignantly, ‘it wasn’t my idea to stay in bed all last Sunday and look at pictures of you naked. That was entirely your doing.’

The patch of sunlight that had been warming my back suddenly disappeared and I heard a discreet cough. A prickle of embarrassment ran along my spine as I turned around to see Christine, the allotment secretary and coincidentally Gemma’s mum, standing at the end of Charlie’s plot. My eyes made their way from her wellingtons to her quilted jacket and up to her bobble hat. I scanned her face, holding my breath in case there was a sliver of hope that she hadn’t overheard.

‘Lovely looking beetroot, so it is,’ said Christine in her broad Irish accent, smirking away to herself.

‘Oh, yes,’ I said, unsure whether Charlie grew beetroot or whether it was simply a blunt observation about the state of my face. ‘It was my baby album,’ I spluttered. ‘That’s why I was naked. And not in all of them, obviously …’ I trailed off as Christine’s shoulders began to shake with laughter.

‘Ah, you youngsters. It’s a long time since my husband Roy and I spent the day doing that.’

I gulped and laughed nervously. TMI, as Shirley would say.

‘Hello, Christine,’ said Charlie, joining us both, totally oblivious to my discomfort. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Grand, so it is.’ She nodded. ‘Just came by to remind you about Sunday. The Easter egg hunt. Great fun for the kiddies. Gemma will be here. Come if you can, won’t you? Ollie would love it.’

Charlie and I made the right noises and Christine bustled off in the direction of the pavilion.

‘You’ve got the weekend off, haven’t you?’ I said, a picture forming in my head of him and me under a huge blue sky with no buildings or people for miles.

‘I have.’ He nodded, his expression knotted in concentration as he took a piece of string from his pocket and gently tied my newly bedded pea plant to its cane. ‘Four days off. Can’t wait.’

‘Remember that deal we made, when I came cycling with you even though I didn’t want to and in return you promised to come horse riding with me?’

‘Ye-s,’ Charlie replied, not meeting my eye as he straightened up. I abandoned my planting, hooked my fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and stepped towards him, closing the gap between us until I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

‘Well, we could do that, this weekend. I found some stables just outside Kingsfield that said I could go and ride their horses. What do you think?’

I stared up at him and held my breath. I knew what he thought. He thought horses were all teeth and nostrils, but a deal was a deal and there was nothing – nothing – I’d rather do over the Easter weekend than canter through fields with the wind in my hair and Charlie by my side.

He pressed his lips to my forehead and shook his head. ‘No can do, I’m afraid. I’m having Ollie over for a few days. In fact, I might bring him here to the Easter egg hunt. What do you reckon?’

My happy bubble burst and I felt my shoulders sag.

But you had him last weekend.

Eek! I very nearly said that out loud! Luckily my one diplomatic brain cell jumped in first and stopped me from making a huge mistake. Charlie would always choose Ollie over me. Quite rightly. I wished my own dad had shown even a tenth of the enthusiasm Charlie had for spending time with his son. So I wasn’t complaining – well, maybe a bit.

‘He’d love it.’ I nodded. ‘Perhaps we could all …?’ I swallowed and waited for Charlie to pick up on my thoughts and dive in with a suggestion that the three of us spend Easter Sunday together.

Charlie was a fab dad. I’d have loved a dad like him. Reading between the lines, I don’t think he’d always been such a good father, but he certainly was now. And Ollie was a delight. He had big blue eyes just like his dad, was cute, well-mannered and had an inquisitive streak that made me laugh and kept Charlie constantly on his toes.

I have met Ollie twice. Both times when Charlie brought him into the café for something to eat.

I wasn’t introduced. Well, strictly speaking, I suppose I was. Although ‘Say thank you to the nice lady, Ollie’ wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d envisaged meeting my potential stepson for the first time.

Charlie blinked at me, pulled off his woolly hat and scratched his head, dislodging my hands from his waist as he did so.

‘Why don’t you go horse riding on your own?’ he asked gently. ‘I’ll come another time, I promise. But I think Ollie and me will just have a quiet one this weekend. It’s too soon …’ His voice petered out and he shrugged awkwardly.

That was a no, then.

I struggled to get my feelings under control, but there were no two ways about it. Charlie didn’t want to tell Ollie about me and that stung. Was I an embarrassment or something?

Bright smile, Freya.

‘Honey, you and I have been together four months. Haven’t I earned my girlfriend badge yet?’

‘Oh, come here.’ He wrapped me in his arms and I burrowed my face into his jumper. ‘I know it’s tough. Believe me, I’d love to spend time with the three of us all together. But I want to be the best dad I can be. I’ve only been in Ollie’s life properly myself for a few months and it’s still early days for you and me. I don’t want to confuse him by bringing a girlfriend into the equation.’

Four months was longer than some of my relationships, but I didn’t think that admitting that would be particularly helpful to my cause.

I bit my lip. ‘Yeah, but Tilly and Aidan have only been together a couple of weeks longer than us and they’re already halfway across the world together.’

And they’re a perfect match.

Charlie puffed out his cheeks and a frown wrinkled his brow. ‘That’s different.’

I flushed, wishing I hadn’t said that.

Tilly’s first husband had died in a car crash a couple of years ago. I could totally see why she was ready to get serious with Aidan so quickly; she had settled down once and she wanted to do it again. On the other hand, Charlie had had his fingers badly burned by his wife and I could understand why he was treading cautiously; apart from having a crush on Tilly last year, I was the first woman that Charlie had let into his life since splitting up with his ex. I just wondered how long I’d have to wait until he let me into Ollie’s life too.

I let out a long sigh. Charlie tilted my chin up to meet his gaze and I managed a weak smile.

‘Hey, cheer up! We have fun, don’t we?’ he said, breaking into a cheeky grin.

A wave of disappointment washed away my smile. ‘Is that what I am to you, Charlie? A bit of fun?’

My heart was pounding all of a sudden. How had the conversation got so heavy? Only two minutes ago we were talking handcuffs and nude photos.

We stared at each other as a weird sort of tension crackled between us. His expression faltered and I scanned his face, willing him to say that I was more than that. I could see him battling to find the right words but before a suitable reply occurred to him my mobile phone rang.

I loved the lyrics to Pharrell Williams’s song ‘Happy’. Hence choosing it as my ring tone. Normally I indulge in a full thirty seconds of clapping along as per Pharrell’s instructions before accepting the call.

This time I fumbled in my jacket pocket and stabbed at the green button sharpish.

‘Hello?’

‘Freya, is that you?’ The voice was higher than usual and a bit tremulous, but I recognized Auntie Sue instantly. My heart, already beating at top speed after the uncomfortable conversation with Charlie, thudded louder.

‘Yes, it is. Is everything all right?’

‘No, lass. It’s Uncle Arthur, he’s had an accident.’

‘Oh no,’ I gasped, turning to Charlie. He frowned with concern and reached a hand out to my arm. ‘Is he OK?’

‘He’s out of hospital but he’s a bit worse for wear and he’s mithering something chronic. I hate to bother you and I know it’s short notice, but do you think you could come up and help out for a few days?’

Charlie was still looking at me anxiously but I didn’t make eye contact. I had a few days off and as Ollie was around it looked like I wouldn’t be ‘having fun’ with Charlie. I glanced at my watch. Five o’clock. The train journey would take a couple of hours at least, plus I’d need to pack a bag …

‘I’ll be on the next train,’ I promised, crossing my fingers that there would be a train at some point tonight.

I ended the call, telling her that I’d let her know what time the train would be in as soon as I was on board.

Finally, I looked Charlie in the eye. ‘I’ve got to go home.’

‘To Paris?’

My parents lived in Paris. Before that they’d lived in Brussels. Before that Johannesburg, Singapore, Sydney, Kuala Lumpur and Washington, DC … From memory they’d moved house seventeen times. But I’d only ever called one place my home.

I shook my head. ‘Appleby Farm.’

The train hissed to a standstill at Oxenholme station shortly after ten o’clock. Only a handful of passengers disembarked and by the time I’d faffed about stuffing my belongings into my rucksack and left the carriage, the platform at the little station was eerily deserted. I searched up and down for a familiar face – or any face, come to that – but couldn’t see another soul. There was, however, a long metal sign displaying the message ‘Welcome to The Lakes’, and despite the circumstances of my impromptu visit, my heart skipped with happiness as I inhaled my first lungful of the fresh night air.

I was in the Lake District. My favourite place on earth.

I walked towards the exit with an eager bounce in my step, out of the station and towards the tiny taxi rank where, hopefully, the lift that Auntie Sue had arranged for me would be waiting. The journey to the farm took about half an hour and I couldn’t wait to see her and Uncle Arthur. I had a quick scan around but the car park and taxi rank were completely devoid of cars so I plonked my rucksack on the floor against a stone wall and sat on it while I waited.

The last few hours had whizzed by. After Auntie Sue’s call for help, Charlie and I had hugged each other for the longest time and then I’d dashed back to Anna’s house to pack while she booked me a ticket online. Anna, being the ace friend that she was, made me a cheese and pickle sandwich, reminded me to pack my wellies and drove me to the station. I didn’t breathe a word to her about the whole ‘bit of fun’ convo with Charlie because … well, because she’d probably think I was making a fuss about nothing and also because, after me, Anna was Charlie’s number-one fan and she may well have sided with him.

The way things had been left between Charlie and me bothered me a lot. But during the train journey, I’d tucked my worries aside and decided to concentrate on what had been going on at Appleby Farm. I’d called Auntie Sue from the train. Apparently, Uncle Arthur had had an accident in his tractor this morning. The tractor had overturned and he’d broken his wrist, split his head open and bruised several ribs. He was OK now, a bit shaken-up, but nothing too serious. Poor old sausage.

There was still no sign of my lift and I strained to listen for an approaching car. Nothing. I was just contemplating calling for a taxi when my mobile rang. My heart fluttered when I saw Charlie’s name flash up on the screen. Thank goodness.

I slid the phone under my hair to my ear and smiled as I answered his call. ‘Hey.’

‘Are you there yet?’

‘I’m off the train. Just waiting for a taxi.’

‘On your own? In the dark? You be careful.’

My smile grew bigger at the concern in his voice. He did care about me, of course he did.

‘This is Oxenholme village, Charlie,’ I giggled. ‘The most dangerous thing I’m likely to encounter is a lost sheep.’

‘Even so … Freya?’

There was something about the tone of his voice – softer, lower – that made my insides quiver. I gripped the phone tighter and swallowed. ‘Yes?’

There was a pause down the line and I heard the creaking of leather, which probably meant he was on the sofa in his flat. ‘I just wanted you to know that you make me very happy.’

‘Ditto,’ I said, smiling down the line at my big softie of a boyfriend.

‘And you are a lot more to me than a bit of fun.’

His words flooded through me like warm honey. I leaned back against the cold stone wall and cradled the phone to my cheek. ‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ I said softly. ‘You mean a lot to me, too.’

A car with a rasping engine and rattling exhaust pipe came into view and flashed its headlights at me.

‘Maybe when you’re home …’

Home.
My heart thumped at that. After six months, Kingsfield still didn’t feel like home.