Page 59 of The Do-Over

‘So what am I supposed to do?’

‘I don’t know. Give him time, I guess.’

By the end of the day, I’ve called four more times but it’s gone to voicemail every time. I didn’t leave any more messages, but I’m like a caged animal. My mood wasn’t improved when Ernest called late afternoon to say he’d be popping over in the morning to check on progress and have a general catch-up.

‘Look on the bright side,’ Rebecca had told me when I’d imparted this latest piece of bad news. ‘If you don’t hear from George by the weekend, at least you know where he’ll be.’

That did bring some comfort, and I’d returned to my varnishing in the mill with a little less aggression. Maybe she’s right and he just needs a bit of space to process his feelings. If I haven’t heard from him by the weekend, I’ll go and find him in Tenterden. One way or another, we’re going to talk about this. Even if he thinks it’s a mistake, I need closure.

‘I’d forgotten what a cracking cup of splosh you make,’ Ernest says the next morning, after taking a deep and noisy slurp from his mug. ‘The bloke in Norfolk couldn’t make a cuppa to save his life. It was like drinking dishwater. Right then, where are we?’

‘We were just beginning to explore the idea of opening up as a tourist attraction,’ Rebecca says cautiously. ‘Nothing’s set in stone, but we have a potential investor and were thinking of using the land to put in a family farm.’ We haven’t discussed her plans any further yet, so I’m pleased that she’s soft-pedalling it. I’m still in a spin about George and not really in the mood to deal with this at the moment.

‘Great idea,’ Ernest says approvingly, placing his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. For a moment, I vaguely hope it’ll collapse underneath him as a punishment both for looking so impossibly smug and also for encouraging her but, although it’s creaking alarmingly, it holds firm. After a moment where he seems to be contemplating his own genius, he brings the chair back down and opens his eyes again. ‘What about the covenant?’

‘Not a problem,’ Ben assures him. ‘The covenant specifies that the land must be used for the purpose of agriculture or food production, and the family farm qualifies. I checked when I was thinking of doing it.’

‘Is there anyone else doing something similar nearby?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Good. So your first issue is going to be getting the council on board. They’re going to want to know about the potential traffic impact, whether the local residents object, all that kind of thing. It can take a while, so I’d get cracking on that sooner rather than later. I assume you’re planning to use the mill as a centrepiece?’

‘That’s the idea, yes.’

‘OK,’ he says, suddenly energised. ‘We’ll need to get the mill certified for food production, assuming you’re going to sell the flour. If you’re planning on running it for any length of time, we’ll also need to check the pond. It might need dredging. Good news is that winter is the best time to do that, because there are bound to be newts using it in summer, and you’re not allowed to disturb them.’

‘Hang on.’ I’m only half listening to Ernest but this seems important. ‘How much will that cost?’

‘Oh, it’s not cheap,’ he says breezily. ‘But we should be able to get a grant to cover most of it, if we word the application right. We’d probably best crack on with that too so we can get thedredging done before spring. I’ve got some forms in my car. I’ll bring them in shortly and we can get started.’

I’m starting to feel overwhelmed again, but thankfully Rebecca seems to spot it and suggests to Ernest that he might like to check progress in the mill before we start form filling, which thankfully deflects him.

‘Are you OK?’ she asks once he’s pottered off.

‘I’m not trying to be difficult, but I haven’t agreed to any of this yet,’ I tell her.

‘I know. But there’s no harm in putting in the applications, is there? If the council says no, then there isn’t really anything to talk about. If they say yes, well, then we have options. The more options we have, the better, surely? Ever since the mill turned out not to be as knackered as we hoped, we’ve known this wouldn’t be an easy place to sell, so having a plan B can’t be a bad thing.’

‘I guess not. I’m just worried that you and Ben are completely sold on this farm idea and, if I’m honest, I feel backed into a corner.’

‘That’s my fault. I let my enthusiasm run away, especially when Ben offered to invest and everything. Look, nothing’s changed, OK? You and I are partners, and I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you feel you’d rather press ahead with extending the cottage and trying to sell it, I’m sure Ben will understand.’

I sigh. ‘But you want this, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ she admits. ‘Much as I liked the property development plan, I like stability even more. The idea that this could be a permanent home for Rollo and me, plus a business that could provide a decent standard of living, that’s very tempting.’

‘And don’t forget Ben,’ I add.

‘I’m trying not to let him be a factor, but yes. I’d like a future with him too,’ she agrees. ‘But you and I have a contract and I’llhappily abide by it. The only way the farm happens is if you’re completely comfortable and on board. Ben and I have drawn up some plans, and I’d like you to have a look at them and give your opinion, but that’s it. You have total veto. Ben and I are agreed on this.’

‘OK,’ I concede. ‘I’m happy to look.’

‘Thank you. Right, you’d better go and see what Ernest is up to in the mill.’

‘Must I?’

‘I think, after all the work you’ve put into it, I’d want to make sure he isn’t making a mess in there.’

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