Page 62 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘Isn’t it time these rascals went to bed anyway?’
‘We might not always be able to afford nice things,’ Willow said.
Jude thought of the conversations that had ranged back and forth this afternoon. In a few weeks, his signature would be on the bottom of the papers that were being drawn up, and then…maybe she had a point, after all. The deal would secure him a good deal of money initially, but after that their life would most definitely have to change. He reminded himself that this was what he wanted, but old habits die hard, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for the sacrifice. But Willow must never see the doubt on his face, so he quickly shrugged it away. He flicked a playful finger against the end of her nose, and kissed it. ‘What are we going to do with your mummy?’ he said to the girls. ‘Tell her to behave herself.’
Willow merely smiled, thinking of the little nest egg that her prudent housekeeping had saved her, and she turned back to the girls.
‘Come on now scamps, daddy’s right, it’s time you were getting sorted. Finish your sandwiches, and then it’s time for your bath. If you’re quick, we’ll have time for an extra couple of chapters ofWinnie the Witch.’
Both girls looked imploringly at her, just as she knew they would. ‘But no staying up tonight, mind. I know it’s Friday, but it’s our big day tomorrow, don’t forget.’
‘Strawberries!’ shouted Beth. ‘Yummy!’ and she grabbed Amy’s hand, practically dragging her from the table.
The light was finally leaving the day now, but the sky was still clear and wide. The first and brightest stars were beginning to appear, and Willow hoped that tomorrow would stay fine. The forecast was good; like today, blue skies, but not too hot, and no rain, that was the main thing. She pulled the bedroom curtains closed and went to turn on the shower, the pale glow of the lamp beside her bed illuminating the curve of her skin as she walked.
She was aware that Jude had been watching her from the bed. He lay fully clothed; his city suit shed, and now relaxed in jeans and a T-shirt. She knew he’d join her in a few minutes, for what would be the perfect end to the day, and a languid smile passed over her face as he thought about soap sliding over skin. Willow inhaled the fragrant steam that billowed around her with the fresh scent of lemons and shivered in anticipation of his touch. She was already lost in the sensation when she felt Jude behind her, his naked body padding soundlessly into the wet room, and a small sigh escaped her as she felt his hand slip across her stomach and over one breast. She turned, moving her own hands.
It must have been towards three in the morning when she awoke. A slight shift in her consciousness that alerted her to the fact that Jude was no longer beside her; but even as she registered his absence from the bed, she knew that this was not the only reason for her wakefulness. Fleeting images came back at her, still veiled in a fug of sleep, yet unpleasant enough to wake her. She tried to grasp at them, but the wisps of memory disappeared. A moment later, she heard the toilet flush and as Jude returned to wrap his warm limbs around her back, she smiled to herself. There was much to do tomorrow, and finally, time to start putting into place the plans that she had begun to make a few weeks ago. Plans, in fact, that had come to her during another night of restless sleep plagued by strange dreams but plans which were so exciting that she now couldn’t wait for the morning. As her thoughts drifted towards the recipes in grandma Gilly’s notebook, she slept, the troubling images she had seen in her sleep all but forgotten.
33
It was her art teacher who once told Willow that no sky could ever be this blue. She hadn’t believed him then, and today was confirmation of that. The colour was unbroken, stretching out into the cloudless sky until it reached the horizon, only then paling slightly. The air was soft – not harsh with the fierce heat of late summer, but a gentle pervasive warmth that made her skin smile.
The fields were ready, and in a few moments, Willow too would be all set. She just needed to post one more tweet and then she could do no more. But people would come, of that she was sure; they always did. She collected the bottles of water and snacks she had prepared and, snatching up her sun hat on the way out, she walked down the hallway. She paused for a moment by the back door, looking towards the room on her right as if weighing something up, and then with a glance at her watch, she pushed open the door.
Her grandma’s old notebook was still on the table where she had left it yesterday, and she reached for it now, running her fingers across the cracked surface, its yellowed pages spilling out from the confines of the navy-blue cover. The little silver moon on the top right-hand corner of the cover flashed in the sunlight, and Willow smiled. She needed no further testament that her actions were the right ones. She closed the door behind her softly, and walked out of the house and down the path, her fingers brushing the tips of the lavender that grew there as she went. She skirted around the apple trees and made her way to the gate which stood in the corner of the garden. She smiled and took a deep breath, whispering a thank you to the sun. The strawberries were waiting.
Even this early in the morning, there were a few pickers around. They didn’t officially open for another half an hour, but no one was ever turned away. The folks who came this early usually picked with a vengeance. They were not the spur-of-the-moment afternoon crowd looking for a punnet of delicious fruit to have with their tea, nor were they families revelling in a day in the sun. They had purpose these early birds; the whole day ahead of them, and by sundown, jar after jar would be filled with sweet sticky jam.
Jude had already opened the wide gates into the car park and set out the signs directing people where to go. He stood now beside their little wooden shop with his back to her, looking up the slight slope of the field, watching Amy and Beth ahead of him. They were in good hands, thought Willow. Peter, their student here for the summer doted on the girls and wouldn’t let them out of his sight. Their enthusiasm for picking would wane in the weeks to come, but today, on their first day of opening, they were just as excited as she was.
She sidled up behind Jude, planting a kiss on the nape of his neck, the pale skin as yet uncoloured by the sun. All that would change soon, even though hats were a must, as was sunscreen, long days in the fresh air would soon bring a golden glow to them all.
‘All set, Captain?’ He grinned.
Willow smiled at his greeting. It was how he always addressed her here. Middleton Estates might own all this land, but Willow had never had anything to do with the day-to-day running of their company; that was Jude’s domain. These fields, though, were hers to command.
‘All set,’ she replied, with a smile of her own.
‘So where would you like me, Sir?’ he asked, doffing an imaginary cap. ‘I can pick, or I can man the barricades?’
Willow glanced at her watch. ‘Actually, could you pick for me? I’d like to stay here for a bit, you know, to catch up with folk for a while.’
‘Get the gossip more like,’ argued Jude benignly. ‘I know what you’re like.’ He motioned with his head towards the few women who were steadily picking fruit.
‘Humour me,’ she said. ‘I don’t get that many opportunities. Besides which, Freya is going to pop over in a bit. We’ve a few things to talk about.’
Jude narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh ay. I heard they were having a bit of a change of direction at Appleyard. That wouldn’t be what you’re planning to discuss, would it?’
‘It might be.’ Willow grinned, laying a finger along the side of her nose. ‘That and to see how things with Sam are working out.’
Jude rolled his eyes. ‘Right, well, I’m definitely off then if it’s going to be all soppy girl talk.’ He picked up a stack of empty punnets from the table beside the shop doorway and threaded them up his arm. ‘Enjoy your natter.’ He plonked a kiss on her lips and set off up the field.
Willow watched him go, the soft linen of his summer ‘uniform’ sitting comfortably on his lithe body as he moved easily across the ground. God he was gorgeous.
At times, manning the barricades was a pretty apt description of Willow’s morning as her customers jostled for room in the shop. But it was all good-natured, as people came to pay for their fruit or to collect punnets in readiness for picking. Many stayed to talk, light-hearted chatter with their neighbours, or with Willow herself, and a few, feeling weak-willed, succumbed to one of Willow’s tempting cakes as well. And throughout it all, the summery smell of the strawberries pervaded the air, pungent and sweet, with their heady invitation to be eaten, fingers and lips stained red with their juice. If Willow could bottle the smell and sell it, she’d do that too.
After a couple of hours, the initial swell of opening day visitors calmed and returned to the more usual steady movement, and suddenly there was Freya, grinning at Willow like a Cheshire cat.
