After she left, I went up to Maddie’s room. She was lying on her bed, as usual, watchingHeartstopper.
‘We’ve finished in the café and Auntie Hope has gone. Do you want to come and see it?’
‘I’m watching this.’
‘Do you want me to help in here while I’m still in my messy clothes?’
‘I’ve already done it.’
I looked at the wall. The patches with insufficient paint coverage had been filled in but she’d clearly done it with a paint-clagged brush and they looked even worse than before but therewas no way I was going to point that out after yesterday’sI’m uselessrant.
‘I’ll order some white paint for the ceiling,’ I said, cringing at how bad the Tipp-Ex cover-up attempt looked now that it had dried.
‘Don’t bother. You don’t have to see it and I can live with it. Can I get back to my programme?’
‘Not yet. I was worried about you yesterday. You were really down on yourself and?—’
‘I was annoyed with myself but I’m fine now and, before you offer, Idon’twant to talk about it.’
She picked up the remote and pressed play again.
‘We’ve been invited to…’
With a sigh she paused the TV and raised her eyebrows at me. ‘What now?’
‘We’ve been invited to Briar Stones Farm on Thursday – all of us. We haven’t seen your Uncle Nick yet and you haven’t seen your cousins.’
‘Okay.’
She setHeartstopperaway again, increasing the volume as a clear signal to me to leave. I hesitated, wondering if I should push her to talk but maybe she was telling the truth about last night. Maybe she had been frustrated with herself and there wasn’t some deeper self-esteem issue at work. I closed the door behind me and went to my bedroom to change.
Clemmie was sprawled across my bed in a sunny patch. She stirred as I entered the room and, when I greeted her by name, she stretched then padded over to me. Picking her up and stroking her tummy, I wandered over to the window. My bedroom was at the front of the farmhouse with an uninterrupted view across the fields to the distant Cheviots. I stared into the distance, focusing on the beautiful vista and Clemmie’s gentle purring. While I hated the thought of mydaughter having self-esteem issues, it would have offered some sort of explanation for her moods. Now I was back to square one, with no idea why she’d turned against me.
* * *
‘I can’t believe it’s our one-week anniversary today,’ I said to Mam over breakfast the following morning. ‘It feels like we’ve been here way longer than that.’
Mam nodded. ‘Same here, although that’s probably down to all the prep we did before moving. Today’s also one week until opening day. Excited?’
‘I am, although I’m not sure what to expect. A Wednesday could be a tricky first day so I’m working on the basis of expecting no visitors and being pleasantly surprised if we have any.’
‘I’m sure we’ll have some, especially with Claire running a piece in theNorthumberland News.’
Claire – a reporter for the local newspaper – was coming this afternoon to take photos and interview us about our plans. Mam had taught Claire to ride when she was little and she’d been delighted to hear that Mam and I had taken over the running of Hazelwick Farm. She’d promised us a feature ahead of opening day and a follow-up at the start of the school holidays next month which would hopefully help spread the word that the farm was under new management and trigger some interest. The cows would have arrived before the second article although we probably wouldn’t be ready to advertise the cuddling experiences at that point. Hopefully Claire would be willing to do another piece when we were.
The builders had scaffolding up around The Dovecote and were making great progress with the barns. Work would be starting on the fencing today too. Mam had arranged for Des– an old friend of Dad’s who ran a home-and-small-business repairs service with his son – to look at it last Monday when she moved in. He’d said that the fencing at the back of the farm was in good condition and should last several more years but the fencing round the front pastures was at the end of its life. It would be easier and more effective to replace the whole lot rather than attempt some replacements and sporadic repairs. We’d given him the go-ahead, thinking it would also create a more positive first impression for our visitors.
On the agenda for Mam and me today was to print and laminate the menus for the café now that we had our logo. Much as we’d have loved to launch with a full menu, the risk of excessive food waste was too great so we were planning a reduced offering of scones, sandwiches and traybakes, although we’d have a wide drinks range. If everything went well, we’d roll out a full menu at the start of the school holidays and get it professionally printed.
The Garstangs had put up various laminated signs around the farm ranging from directions to the toilets to the importance of hand washing. They were way past their best so I’d printed fresh signage with our new logo, laminated it and needed to put it up today. Once we were happy we had the right signs in the right places, we’d enlist the services of a sign-maker to create sturdier, more professional-looking signs. It would cost more than our homemade ones but Mam and I had both agreed that we were running a visitor experience on a farm rather than running a farm that had a visitor experience tagged on and therefore those small details were important in creating a positive impression and hopefully return business and recommendations to others.
Des arrived mid-morning in a flatbed truck loaded with sturdy fence posts. He introduced his apprentice, Hunter, who looked about Maddie’s age.
‘I came on a school trip here,’ Hunter said, looking around him. ‘Do you still have the big horses?’
‘We do. We’ve moved them to the pastures out the back so they aren’t spooked by you working here but you’re welcome to say hello when you have a break. They’re very gentle. Just don’t feed them anything, even if they ask.’
It was probably a joke a child would have liked but it still made him laugh and I appreciated the politeness. Watching Hunter working hard across the day and eagerly lapping up Des’s guidance it struck me that, just like Lindon, he’d make a much more suitable boyfriend for Maddie than Alfie ever had. Not that Maddie would ever know that because she never left her bedroom except to spend time with the guinea pigs. I couldn’t believe we’d been here a week already and she still hadn’t taken a tour round the farm. I’d give her until the weekend and, if she still hadn’t done so, I was going to have to do something drastic like confiscate her television and phone and refuse to return them until she’d explored.
