Page 65 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘It might be…Do you remember the ice cream I made for Louisa and Phillip’s ruby wedding anniversary? Well, that was one of granny’s recipes, straight out of that notebook, and there are plenty more, all using the kind of soft fruits that I grow here. I thought I might try and have a go at making them again, properly I mean, to sell. What do you think? I could start with the gooseberry perhaps.’
Freya took another sip of her drink, holding the glass aloft and peering at the dew-coloured liquid. She squinted up at Willow. ‘I think you might need to borrow some of our elderflowers,’ she said, amused. ‘And what a totally brilliant idea!’
‘Well, I’m not sure that ‘borrow’ is quite the right word, but if I could harvest your elderflowers, perhaps you might like to have some of the syrup I make back in return. You could use it for your own juices.’
‘Serendipity!’ Freya grinned. ‘Although I really don’t need anything in return, Willow. I didn’t put the elderflowers there, Mother Nature did…but, now that you come to mention it…apple and elderflower…mmmm.’
‘So do you think we might be able to come to some sort of an arrangement?’ asked Willow.
Freya sat back in her chair. ‘I’m certain we could. I’d want to run it by Sam of course, but it’s just the sort of thing he’d love, I know it. God this is exciting.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ nodded Willow. ‘And it could be just the thing we need.’
Freya paused for a moment, her face falling a little.
‘So I get why you’ve suddenly cleared this room out,’ she said, obviously wondering how much to say. ‘It would make a great workroom, but…’ She cocked her head on one side, watching Willow closely. ‘…earlier on you said this was all on the quiet, as if you didn’t want Jude to know about it. Is…is everything all right between you two?’
‘Oh God yes, it’s nothing like that. Well, it sort of is, but not in the way you mean.’ She threw her hair back over her shoulder. ‘Let’s just say that I’m worried Jude is in danger of making some very bad decisions soon; business decisions, but ones that will affect our whole family. I’d like there to be an alternative, that’s all, but I don’t want to involve him until I’m sure it’s something worth pursuing.’
Freya raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh I get it, and then it will be his brilliant idea, right? That’s the oldest trick in the book, Willow.’ She smirked. ‘You get exactly what you want, but Jude thinks it was his idea all along.’
Willow smiled in reply. ‘Something like that,’ she said.
‘Well, I won’t say a word, trust me. And I’ll make sure that Sam keeps his mouth shut too. I should probably let you get back to your strawberries now, but why don’t we meet up again one day in the week when Jude is at work, and then we can have a proper chat? There’s someone else I think you should have a word with while we’re about it. Someone who might also be able to help.’
‘Anyone I know?’
‘Oh yes, from way back, but let me have a chat to her first. If she’s up for it, I might bring her along too.’
Willow rose from the table. ‘Well, now I’m intrigued.’
‘Good.’ Freya winked. ‘I’ll give you a ring, shall I?’
34
Something wasn’t right here. Willow shouldn’t be able to feel the rain like this. Normally, when she stood by this gate, the canopy of trees overhead protected her from the worst of the elements. It wasn’t until you reached the end of the wooded lane that the trees thinned out as the path sloped down towards to the clearing. Only then did you get a full view of the sky.
She shielded her face from the raindrops that the wind was whipping into her eyes and looked up, raking the skyline for any clue. Maybe she wasn’t where she thought she was, but the sky was inky black, so there would be no help from the moon tonight. As she watched, an explosion of light struck out across the expanse of dark and she raised her shoulders, flinching in anticipation of the crashing noise that would surely follow as the lightning cracked open the night.
For a split second in the flare, the ground was illuminated before her, jagged scars cut through the fields, gouges through the pastoral landscape. Grasses, flowers, trees, all gone, just cracks of soil split wide, their muddy guts piled up in heaps. Willow could feel her feet oozing in the deep mud, rooting her to the spot, forcing her to look at the desecration in front of her.
She turned her head, another flash of lighting searing across her vision and this time row after row of houses stood, stretching out to the horizon, and above her head a huge wooden sign standing sentinel. She tried to pull her feet free from the soil, but as she struggled, sank ever deeper. The hairs pricked on the back of her neck, and panic rose in her throat…
Her breath came in heaving gasps as she woke, her nightdress heavy against her chest, sodden with her sweat, and it took her a few moments, eyes staring wildly out into the dark before Willow realised that she was safe, back in her room. She stretched out a hand to feel the smooth expanse of the sheets beneath her, the gentle cocoon of the pillow cradling her head. Beside her, Jude’s rhythmic breathing stalled for a moment and she held her breath, but then it released once more in a sigh and with a faint snuffle, he resumed his peaceful sleep.
The clock beside the bed showed half past midnight; the dream had come quickly to Willow tonight, stronger than ever, and there was no longer any doubting its truth. She reached under her pillow and brought out the bundle of cloth which lay there, a small blue stone nestled within its folds. Even constrained within the soft muslin, its message had been a powerful one, and she was careful to keep the lapis lazuli from touching her skin; to do so right now would cause it to burn her like fire.
Very gently, she leaned across and slid open the drawer beside the bed, popping the bundle inside and, with a cautious glance at her husband, she lay back down and tried to calm both her mind and her breathing. Over the years there had been odd occasions when Willow had known without a shadow of doubt that things were going to happen, or she had seen things which had later come true. Intuition her mum had called it, being in tune with your feelings, and as a child Willow had been so used to her mum’s eccentricities that she never thought anything of it. The things Willow had seen could be explained away, the feelings passed off as well-informed hunches. There had never been anything like the dreams she was having now. These were vivid, powerful even, and the truth was that they scared Willow a little; not only because of their intensity but because of the message they brought. She felt for Jude’s fingers, feeling them close over hers as he slept. She looked at him fondly, but sadly.
Oh Jude, she sighed,what have you done…?
* * *
Freya was met with a cloud of fragrant steam as Willow opened the door to the stillroom for her.
‘Blinking heck, you don’t hang around, do you?’ she commented, breathing in the delicious fruity smell. She and Willow had sat in this room only a few days before but it was now no longer bare. Instead a new wooden work surface ran the length of one wall set with a huge cooker.
‘That smells amazing,’ Freya remarked, crossing over to get a better look. She hung her head over one of the pans that bubbled there. ‘What exactly is in that?’
