‘I spotted someone had moved in but there weren’t any lights on and I didn’t want to scare them by knocking so early. I brought a note with me to put through the letterbox if I didn’t see anyone today.’
She removed a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her fleecy jacket and handed it to me. Her full name, contact details and usual working hours were written on it.
‘That’s really helpful, thank you. Great minds think alike.’ I handed her a piece of paper containing my name and contact details.
‘Mrs Garstang said you’d want to know more about what I do here. Do you want to do that now or after I’ve finished my work?’
‘I’ve got stacks of questions so, if you’re okay with it, I’d love you to follow your usual morning routine but tell me what you’re doing and why. We can talk around that.’
‘Okay. So today I’m doing a poo-pick. I’ve got a wheelbarrow and rake ready. You’ve got to do it at least twice a week but I do it most days.’
‘Grab me a rake too and I’ll help.’
As Willow pushed the wheelbarrow to the first pasture at the front of the farm, she explained that all the fields had names.
‘None of them are imaginative,’ she said. ‘This is Big Field because it’s the biggest. Tall Stone is opposite because it has a tall stone by the gate and the one at the end of the track is called Lane End. At the back, there’s Barn View, Far Field and Boggy End, all named for obvious reasons. We rotate the horses round those six pastures because they’re nearest the stables but there are plenty of others you could use if you prefer.’
Listening to Willow walk me through her routine and the reasons behind it, I was impressed with her knowledge aroundanimal and pasture care. Her passion for horses also came across in abundance. Once we’d finished clearing Big Field, she led me back through the gate and to a large compost heap beside a stone barn.
‘What do you do with this?’ I asked as she emptied the wheelbarrow onto the pile.
‘A few people collect it for their gardens and allotments,’ she said, ‘but most don’t have vans or trailers so they can’t move it. Nobody wants a pile of manure in their boot. Shelley wanted to grow vegetables on the farm but she never had the time to dig a patch and Anna and Doug were too—’ She stopped abruptly, her cheeks colouring.
‘Anna and Doug were too what?’ I prompted.
She winced. ‘Are you friends with them?’
As I shook my head, she put the rakes back in the wheelbarrow, picked up the handles and we set off again.
‘I was going to say too lazy to help. It drove Shelley mad. I’m not surprised she left.’
‘Shelley was their daughter, yes? Anna never mentioned her leaving.’
She stopped and stared at me, eyes wide. ‘You don’t know the story?’
‘What story?’
‘I can’t believe they didn’t tell you. Well, I can, but it’s bad that they didn’t.’ She picked up the barrow once more and began walking. ‘I’d better start from the beginning. So, Anna was a chef in a café and her big dream was to own her own café. Doug worked on a farm and his dream was to have a farm of his own. They were thoseif I won the lotterykind of conversations people have and guess what? They won the lottery.’
‘No! How much?’
‘Nobody knows for sure but the guess is around two million. So they bought the farm and spent a fortune doing up thefarmhouse. Then they set up the café – spent a fortune on that too – but nobody came. Why would they? There were already cafés in Rowanbridge, Mapleton and Birchwood Rigg and all those villages have something else to pull in the visitors like the railway and the castle. The farm had nothing.’
We’d reached the top of the pastures at the front of the farm and Willow paused to unfasten the gate to Tall Stone. As I followed her across the pasture, she resumed her story.
‘Around the time her parents won the lottery, Shelley split up with her boyfriend so she moved into the farmhouse. She was horse mad and worked at one of the local riding stables but her big passion was heavy horses, especially the rare breeds. She thought that having heavy horses here might attract visitors to the farm and those visitors would use the café. Anna and Doug agreed and they invested in it at first – stables, fencing, equipment and the horses themselves. Shelley set up an education programme with local schools and clubs and did some stuff with YGT.’
‘Is that the manor house in Rowanbridge?’ I asked. ‘Mam and I saw the sign but we didn’t know what it was.’
‘It stands for You’ve Got This and it’s a residential activity centre. It’s mainly for schools and clubs but they do a locals day each year and it’s awesome – so many activities to try.’
I was about to say it sounded like something Maddie would enjoy and had to remind myself that the old Maddie would have but I had no idea what the replacement version enjoyed anymore as she never talked to me.
‘So, I came here when I was in Guides when I was twelve,’ Willow said, bringing my attention back to the farm. ‘I’d always liked horses, although I’d never ridden one, and I fell completely in love with the heavies. They’re huge and I can see why people might find them intimidating but there’s no need. They’re so gentle and friendly.
‘I came back the next day after school and asked Shelley for a job but she said she couldn’t take anyone on. I found out later it was cos Anna and Doug refused to give her any money for staff. I asked if I could volunteer instead. She didn’t think that was fair but my mam says I’m like a dog with a bone when there’s something I want, so I came back every day for a fortnight until she gave in. She said I could volunteer in exchange for riding lessons and I’ve been here ever since.’
We’d reached the end of Tall Stone and Willow lowered the wheelbarrow and faced me, her expression serious.
