Hope had offered to come back tomorrow and Wednesday to help us with the café so I took the dogs outside and gave her a call to see if she could start today instead. She said she was needed at the farm this morning but would come across with some lunch for us all and help this afternoon.
* * *
Determined not to let Maddie’s attitude bring me down, I streamed an upbeat playlist on my phone while Mam and I carried the tables and chairs from the café into the museum and positioned them around the cart.
The whole café was painted the same soft peach colour and, although it was pretty, we didn’t think it was very country farmhouse so we’d chosen three complementary warm shades – a pale green for the wall that would become our gallery, stone for the rest of the café walls and a muddy red for the serving area which would complement the oak shelving and the silver of the drinks machine and fridges.
Mam started on the serving area while I clambered up a stepladder to do the cutting in on the gallery wall. We sang along to the music and I felt the calmest since I’d moved to the farm. We were living out of boxes and probably would be for quite some time but, to me, Hazelwick Farm already felt like home. I loved the setting, the animals, the small but talented team we were building. The discovery that we’d bought an unsuccessful business didn’t even bother me now because I believed in us, what we already had, and what we could create in the future, especially through the cow cuddling experiences.
‘Lovely to see you smiling like that,’ Mam said. ‘My little ray of sunshine’s back.’
‘I’m happy here and I’m excited for the future. I just wish Maddie felt the same way.’
‘Me too. Time. Lots of time.’
Hope arrived shortly before half twelve. ‘Loving the colours,’ she said. ‘Is the green going on all the walls out here?’
I opened the lid of the stone colour to show her.
‘Gorgeous,’ she said. ‘You’ve chosen well, Mam.’
‘Why would you assume Mam chose the colours?’ I asked, giving Hope a prod in the ribs.
‘Erm, that would be your dubious taste in colours. Do I need to remind you about the red walls, lilac duvet and orange lamp disaster?’
I groaned. ‘I liked all those colours… just maybe not all together at once. And I was only eight. Not that you can talk.What colour was the dress you chose for the school leaving disco?’
She pressed her lips together, stifling a laugh. ‘That would be green.’
‘What shade of green?’
‘A mossy kind of green.’
‘What was that? Puke green, did you say?’
‘Do I need to get my ref’s whistle out?’ Mam asked, pretending to separate us.
‘That dress was rancid,’ Hope said, laughing. ‘I still have nightmares about it.’
‘And I’m still haunted by those red walls closing in on me. Fortunately we both have better taste now.’
‘It’s going to look amazing in here,’ Hope said. ‘I’m so proud of you, big sis. Living the dream.’
‘So are you.’
‘It’s true, although I do have pygmy goat envy. I suggested to Nick that we get some and he just laughed. Later he said,I’ve got you a pygmy goat, and handed me a photo he’d printed off Google Images. Apparently that’s the closest I’ll ever get to owning one.’
‘Aw, he’s so mean! You can come here and play with my goats any time you like.’
We smiled at each other and Hope flung her arms around me. ‘I’m so glad you’ve moved home. I’ve missed you loads.’
‘Me too.’
We squeezed each other tightly but then, reverting to our childhood, Hope blurted a raspberry on my neck, making me squeal. I grabbed a paintbrush and chased her round the café with it until we were laughing so much that we couldn’t move.
‘Nobody would believe you two are in your mid-forties,’ Mam said, shaking her head at us. ‘But it’s wonderful to see. Don’t ever change.’
The three of us headed over to the farmhouse, Hope retrieving a cool box from her car on the way. I called Maddie down to join us and Mam and I washed the paint from our hands while Hope plated up the sandwiches. Maddie appeared in the kitchen and I was pleased to see she’d had the sense to wear old clothes, especially as she was covered in paint.
