Page 30 of Escape to the Country

We jumped into my classic sports car, Mum moaning at how low it was. ‘You’re only nearly sixty, you know, not eighty! I had to have something different to my company car, Mum, to make it OK and to help me to move on.’ The day they drove my company car away was just another kick in the teeth for me and it really hurt. Silly really to get upset over a car, but it wasn’t just the car I was gutted about, it was symbolic of the whole situation.

‘I know, lovely, but these knees are getting on a bit, and this back. Honestly…’ She grinned at me but I found it hard this morning to smile back.

* * *

Sometimes life drifted by with not much going on at all, but right now I felt like I just couldn’t take any more. I’d got Mum telling me about Theo, and Beth was ill. I’d moved into a new home and was trying to get used to a new temporary job and fulfil all of Beth’s community obligations and now, on top of everything, there was Jamie. They do say that life doesn’t throw at you more than you can take, but I didn’t feel like I could take much more right now.

We drove out to the local retail centre just outside Stafford, which was around twenty minutes away, and I picked up some lovely bright cushions, a couple of Moroccan lantern-type table lamps, and some mohair throws to make the lounge more cosy. Since I’d become a reader, I loved nothing more than getting comfy on the sofa, with a throw over me, immersing myself in my latest novel. I also treated myself to a new duvet set, which I unpacked and threw in the washing machine the minute I got home, just after lunchtime, so that I could get it dried on the line and on the bed. There was nothing nicer than the smell of fresh air on your bedclothes, although living on a farm, the fresh air here had a distinct whiff of ‘eau de cow shit’. Ridiculous as it was, I’d missed having a washing line. In the flat, everything got tumble-dried, but here I was looking forward to putting up the rotary washing line and pegging my washing out. It was the simple things in life that seemed to make me happy these days.

I made Mum and me a sandwich, but to be honest, now I had nothing to do, I couldn’t stop thinking about my father and wondering about him. I wasn’t much company and told Mum I had a headache and was going to have a lie down. I was sure she knew that I just needed some time to myself as she didn’t question a thing, and she looked at me sadly as she said goodbye and that she’d text me later to see how I was feeling.

I didn’t even know how I was feeling myself. Russell was on shift over at Growlers, so I made the most of a quiet afternoon and picked up the latest thriller I was reading to give me something else to think about. Last night’s lack of sleep meant that I was shattered and two hours later I woke up with the book face down on my chest. I felt a little groggy at first but after a cup of tea, I was glad I’d had the chance to catch up on some sleep. I spent hours poring over the allotment gardening books that Alex had given me, which up till now had been sat on the coffee table in the lounge. I couldn’t allow myself to think right now, so I needed to occupy myself. Throwing a pizza in the oven, as I really couldn’t be bothered to cook a proper meal, I sat down and started making notes about the allotment. One thing I had really missed since I’d been living alone was cooking for someone. There never seemed much point when I was on my own, but at least I’d be eating a lot more healthily once I’d started to harvest the fruits of my allotment. There wasn’t much on the TV, so I half-heartedly watched a film with Rebel Wilson in it. She normally made me smile and it definitely did brighten my mood throughout the evening. A sharing bag of Maltesers to myself helped too. Share? Not tonight!

The week ahead was quite uneventful and I managed to avoid most people as much as I could. My mood wasn’t the best. I was confused and couldn’t stop thinking about my dad, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie either and wondering what the right thing to do was. I was getting into a routine of getting up at six and making myself a cuppa and sitting around before working at Growlers. I’d made a lovely little seating area in the garden with lots of cushions, and I took a throw out with me and snuggled under it reading. Not having to commute made a huge difference to the time I had, and I was still showered and ready for work at seven thirty when the first dogs arrived for the day.

Uncle Tom attended to the ones who had stayed overnight and let them out for their early morning ablutions before he headed off for some food, when I took over and sorted out their breakfast routines. I had a few hours off each afternoon after lunch, due to the early start, and spent that mostly planning the allotment or working the community slots that Rebecca had given me. I’d been back to see the Darbys and Stuart once again and was going to be making them a regular call until Beth was driving and fully back, when Rebecca would sort some other tasks out for me.

Rebecca had been over to the farm with her younger children, and I’d left her chatting to Uncle Tom a few times while I took the children to see their big brother at work in the kennels. They found eggs in the chicken coop and seeing their delighted faces was very entertaining.

I’d spend most of my evenings thinking about my future and working out what it looked like in my head. And who was in it.

But today was Saturday. A whole week had gone by without me contacting Jamie, although I had picked the phone up a time or two and then stopped myself. Mum had always taught me that if you are in a situation and are not sure what to do, then it was best to do nothing… But goodness me, it was hard. I decided to walk into Giddywell and get some air into my lungs. I needed a change of scenery and to pick up a few bits and bobs from a couple of the shops in the village. Now I wasn’t working all hours, and needed to fill my spare time, I thought I’d do some baking. I hadn’t baked for years but decided to give it a whirl. As I walked past the Copper Kettle café, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Mum sat at a table with a really handsome grey-haired man, laughing and touching his arm. In all my years of being alive, I had never known Mum date anyone. Trying to persuade her to sign up to a dating website was a mission of mine and Jamie’s at one point, but she was having none of it and said that she had everything she ever wanted in her world and that she’d never let anyone else hurt her again.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I just walk on past, or should I go in and say hello? But then, if she didn’t see me – and there was a chance that she wouldn’t as she looked so comfortable chatting and flirting with this man – I could possibly get away unnoticed. But then, I’d have to say that I’d seen her, because curiosity would be eating away at me, and I was actually dying to know who he was.

Just as I was dithering as to what to do, old Mrs Craddock who lived just up the road from my mum crashed into me with her shopping trolley, and all her shopping tumbled out over the ground and into the road. I yelped from the pain in my ankle as she’d caught me right on the bony bit at the side.

‘Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.’

I helped her to pick everything up and when we put it all back in the trolley, I turned back to the café to see Mum staring at me with a look of pure panic on her face. If bloody Mrs Craddock hadn’t made all that commotion I could have just sloped off but she’d seen me now. There was nothing else for it but to front it out and go and say hello. I limped across to them.

‘Hello, how lovely to see you.’ I bent to kiss her cheek, noticing that she smelled beautiful. I turned to her companion and smiled. ‘Hi there, I’m Maddy.’ I didn’t say I was her daughter, just in case she hadn’t broken the news yet that she had one.

Mum looked like she wanted to crawl up her own backside. Her face had gone from frowning to grimacing. She realised that the only thing she could do was introduce us.

‘Edward, meet Maddy. My daughter. Maddy, this is Edward. He’s… er, a friend of mine.’

I could clearly see that! I leant across to shake his hand.

‘Hello, Edward. It’s so nice to meet a friend of my mother’s. You never said you were meeting anyone today, Mum. Do you live around here? Actually, have we met before?’ Now that I could see him close up, there was something about him that seemed incredibly familiar. He was even more handsome close up, with his salt-and-pepper hair framing a healthily tanned face sprinkled with freckles. He was casually dressed in smart jeans, a white shirt and a beige suede jacket. He was quite a looker for an old ’un.

‘I’m just visiting. Not sure how long I’ll be sticking around for. I’ve been living in Spain for a good few years now and have popped back for an extended visit to see some family and decided to look your mother up. We used to go to school together. I think I just have one of those faces, you know how it is.’ He laughed nervously.

Mum was fidgeting really badly and I wondered whether it was because she actually really liked this man and was a little embarrassed to have been caught out with him. She certainly looked like she had been enjoying his company earlier when I was watching her through the window, but now there was something really not sitting right with her. She must be mortified at being caught out. I didn’t want to see her being uncomfortable, so I decided to excuse myself on the pretence that I’d got to get back to work; always a good alibi to keep up your sleeve.

Edward stood up as I left and gave me a quick hug, which was rather unexpected but not at all unpleasant. I could tell by Mum’s face that she was a bit spooked by his familiarity too because her eyebrows nearly shot out of her head. He seemed like a really nice man from the few minutes I had met him. He had a kind face which seemed to be full of character and his eyes wrinkled as he smiled broadly at me.

Walking away from the café with a grin on my face, I was thinking how much of a dark horse my mum was and how it was actually about blooming time that she’d found a man to spend time with. She was such a lovely kind soul who had always put me first all her life, and she deserved in her later years to meet someone just as lovely to be a companion to her, if not yet a lover. But I did hope that something more might come of it than friendship.

* * *

Once I got home, and packed away my bits of shopping, I thought that instead of procrastinating, which I seemed to be quite good at these days, particularly since I found out that I had a reasonable redundancy payout and didn’t need to get a job instantly, I should crack on with the baking that I’d been planning. Beth had leant me a cookery book – one she’d been given years ago which was full of basics and loads of Aunty Jen’s scribbled notes. It felt like there was a bit of Aunty Jen beside me, guiding me. Beth loved a cake and was great at baking, and I knew she was finding it hard being so incapacitated, so I decided to do what she’d do for me and make her favourite chocolate brownies. Rock cakes were easy enough too, surely. I’d make some of those as well. I bet Mr and Mrs Darby would like a rock cake. I was going to see them again later this week, and Stuart too. It felt good to do things for other people and lifted my spirits. I was ready to face the world again.

I’d spent so long doing things for myself, spending hours having my nails and hair done, making myself look respectable for Jamie really, not even for me, to be a proper trophy girlfriend to him, which now seemed selfish and pretty egotistical. I’d discovered that I was really loving working with the dogs and being around Uncle Tom and Beth. But I was worried that I was wasting valuable time, when I should be looking to get back into the world of PR, although the thought didn’t lift my soul in any way.

I put the radio on and danced around the kitchen, singing along. I wasn’t a good cook; I could get by, but there never seemed much point cooking just for one. But baking for others, I almost felt that I was pouring love into the cakes I was making, knowing that my food might bring people joy. Being here at Giddywell Grange had made me realise all the things I’d been missing out on: spending time with friends and family again, and having animals around me who wanted nothing more from me than food, exercise and love, who didn’t care what I looked or smelt like, was comforting and liberating, even. I loved being part of a community and helping others more than I ever would have thought possible.

16

---