I strolled back to the strawberry fields.
‘I can’t believe we open tomorrow,’ Willow said when I walked over to where she was checking on the courgettes. ‘Dylan said tickets are selling fast, although we’re also allowing people to come by on the day if we have spare slots. He’s taking some more photos around the farm to put up on the website and our social media.’
‘What do you want me to do tomorrow?’
‘Can you help Dad man the till table? I don’t want him overdoing things and I need to be out and about, making sure everything is okay and helping visitors around the trail. Dylan will be out there with me and the local help we’ve got coming as well.’
I nodded. ‘I can do that. I like greeting people and it will be fun to tell them all about the trail. I can help with whatever you need. I’m going to work with Mary twice a week; the rest of the time I’m all yours.’
She beamed. ‘Perfect. And Bronte will be here in the afternoon for the ponies. Paul will come with the café van to offer lunch. Hopefully, in the summer holidays, things will be even busier and at the weekends, but I still think we’ll get a fair few people through the gate tomorrow.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘I love it when the farm comes to life.’
We stood and looked around the currently empty farm as the late-afternoon sun shone down on us. It was all peaceful but soon, it wouldn’t be. I was excited to see it full of families. It reminded me of my own childhood. I hoped they would keep hold of these memories for life.
‘I’m looking forward to it.’ I wrapped an arm around my cousin. ‘You know what? I think the farm has brought me back to life.’
‘I think you might have done that all by yourself,’ she replied.
37
Later that day, my things arrived from Henry’s mum. Everything I’d had at their house, which wasn’t much, was all neatly folded into two suitcases delivered by a van and carried up to my room at the farm.
I opened them up and looked at the things which I really hadn’t missed. I pulled my clothes out of the suitcase and knew I’d end up donating most of them. They just didn’t feel like part of my new life. There was make-up and toiletries and my Kindle, which I was grateful to get back. And then tucked under a pair of pyjamas was the framed photo that I had missed the most.
I put the picture on my bedside table and looked at it. It was a photo of me with my parents one summer when we stayed at Birch Tree Farm. We were in front of the farmhouse, all smiling, their hands on my shoulder. I swallowed hard. I hadn’t had this on display at Henry’s house. I’d kept it in a drawer. I found it upsetting to look at.
But now, I wanted it on my bedside table. It seemed right to have it out here. The memories of summers spent on the farm with them were impossible to escape. And finally, I didn’t want to do that. I liked thinking back to being here with my parents. And helping out in the flower shop where my mum had also gained experience.
The rest of the summer was ahead of me and I had no idea what I would do at the end of it but for now, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.
* * *
The following day, late morning, Willow opened up the front gate. The Strawberry Fields Trail was ready for visitors.
Nervous energy blew through the farm on the gentle summer breeze. The birch trees swayed like they had when I’d arrived a couple of weeks ago, ready to greet guests. I really hoped the season would be successful for Willow. She deserved it to be.
I started the day at the till table with my uncle, helping him to get everything ready there. As soon as Willow unlocked the gate, a couple drove in and came over to us before they started to walk the trail.
‘We loved the pumpkin patch in autumn so we had to come back in summer,’ the woman told me as I handed her a punnet for their fruit and veg. ‘And it’s a beautiful day too.’
‘Enjoy yourselves,’ I told them as they headed for the trail. I watched as they walked towards the sunflowers. Our first day open had dawned bright and warm, thankfully, and tickets were selling steadily, Dylan had said over breakfast.
Uncle Adam sat at a chair behind the table ready with the punnets to give people, scales to weigh what they picked and the card machine to take payments. The table was right by where people would park so he would be greeting everyone who came to the farm. He was perfect for the job. I stacked the punnets by the table as Willow came back from the gate.
‘Amy and some of her friends are coming around lunchtime,’ she told us. ‘She’s an influencer and she takes really great pictures of pretty spots and fun things to do. She really helped us last year with Pumpkin Hollow and when I told her about the swing, she wanted to come to see it.’ We watched as another car drove in. ‘Ooh, another visitor already, great. I’m going to check on the chickens, make sure there won’t be any more animal escapes. Come on, Maple. Dad, you’re doing okay?’
‘I’m fine!’ he told her, shaking her head. Once she had left, he turned to me. ‘You raise your child then suddenly, you get to an age when they try to raise you.’
I smiled. ‘It’s lovely how you both take care of each other.’
The Birchbrook Café van pulled into the farm then.
‘Right, I better go and check Paul parks in the right place and everything is okay at the finale. Message me if you need me.’ I heard him tut so I headed off quickly.
Paul had, thankfully, parked where we had discussed and as he got everything ready to open for lunchtime, I put out the two bins he had brought along and then I checked my flower arch looked okay. And made sure the baskets with flowers either side of the white iron bench looked good. I also straightened a couple of the watering cans with flowers on the picnic benches. The day was warming up already and I was thankful I’d worn shorts with a linen shirt and my straw hat. It was perfect picking weather and I hoped that meant lots of Birchbrook locals would stop by the farm.
Willow seemed in good spirits as she called over to say a couple more cars had driven onto the farm and then she and Maple went over to put the sign about pony rides by Blossom and Jasmine’s enclosure. Bronte would be over in the afternoon to run those.
Walking down the strawberry fields, I scanned to make sure everything was looking good for visitors. The strawberries had burst into full life now, perfectly ripe for picking. They were juicy and sweet and I tried not to eat Willow’s profits as I walked along the path, the plants surrounding me in neat rows. I saw a figure heading my way then and I shielded my eyes from the sun to see who it was.
