Page 32 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
‘Looks like you’re famous now!’ says Mae, nudging me, listening to the girls’ conversation. I look at them, then at Mae and Evie, and down at my phone.
‘Looks like I have to take down the post. My bosses really won’t approve.’
Evie smiles. ‘Or your partner, for that matter,’ she says, clearly having heard everything.
‘I think she’s great!’
Evie looks up at the girls, talking among themselves.
‘I’m sharing it to my followers!’
Evie leans into me, shoulder to shoulder, whispering, ‘Looks like social media isn’t all bad!’
I decide to steer the conversation in a different direction and distract myself from the praise being uttered at the counter for the ‘Social Shepherdess’, as they’re calling me, or the woman they’ve shared on social media who doesn’t feel like me at all. It’s a bit surreal.
‘What’s next? When you’ve finished that?’ I ask her quickly. ‘What keeps you knitting?’
‘Not sure. Mad, with the price of wool. It’s more expensive to make things than buy them.’
I remember what Dad was paid for the fleeces. ‘Madness indeed.’
‘But I can’t stop,’ she carries on. ‘I love it. I like who I am when I’m doing it. Helps me to make sense when the world doesn’t.’
‘Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong. Hiding in the process instead of letting myself be part of it,’ I say. I keep my head down and eat the hot jacket potato, this time with beans, thankful no one has recognized me.
Evie is packing away her knitting. ‘Better get back to work.’
I walk up to the counter and hand Mae my card to pay for my tea and the potato. ‘And I’ll pay Owen’s tab, please,’ I say quietly.
Mae looks at me. ‘Are you sure?’
I nod. ‘Don’t tell him, though. Just thought it might help.’
She rings it through. ‘It will, him and me too, when Beti’s son gets here. Oh, and no jacket potatoes tomorrow. Back to burgers and pizzas from the microwave with the boss in town.’
‘Got it.’
‘How are things at the school?’ I ask.
She sighs. ‘Oh, same. Money for this and that. School trips, and PE kit I don’t have money to replace. But at least I have this job. Thank goodness.’
‘See you tomorrow, Mae,’ I say, enjoying the sense of familiarity coming here has brought me.
Evie and I leave together. ‘See you tomorrow?’ she says, and I nod. It’s good to get out.
‘Definitely,’ I say.
The one thing I can do is support this place while I’m here. Now all I have to do is work out how much longer I can stay. With Matthew turning down my idea of Christmas at the farmhouse, I suppose I should start making plans to go back.
15
At the farmhouse, Dad is keen to hear about my trip into town. He’s sitting in his armchair by the fire, chortling at the idea of the illicit jacket potatoes, one of which I’ve brought back for him.
‘It’s delicious!’ he says, tucking into beans and cheese. ‘We used to have them on Bonfire Night, remember?’
‘I do. A bonfire, with jacket potatoes in the embers. No fireworks because they’d scare the sheep. But the bonfire was great fun! You could make more of these for yourself,’ I say.Once I’ve gone.
‘Yes, I will,’ he says.
