Page 51 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
‘Wanted Dad to think I was happy, seeing the world and making a career for myself.’
‘Instead of doing what you really wanted, which is riding round the farm on a quad bike. With one headlight out!’
‘I must fix that.’ I laugh again.
‘You certainly look like you’re happy here,’ he says. ‘You’ve done a lot to inspire others too. If it’s any consolation, your bosses’ loss is this town’s gain.’
A warm glow fills me inside. ‘You seem quite happy here too,’ I say. ‘Looks like farm life suits you!’
And that was it. We lay there, next to each other, near-strangers, lost in our own thoughts, but comfortable enough to let each other do that. I turn my head to the side and see his profile in the streetlight outside, with a small scar under his eye, no doubt a reminder from his rugby days. I keep looking at him: it’s a very attractive face.
Daylight creeps in through the drawn blinds as I wake up from a deep sleep. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. Not in the farmhouse or myflat at the hotel but here on a blow-up mattress that Evie has brought, in a sleeping bag, with rain against the window instead of traffic noise outside.
There are no car alarms going off, as there would be at the hotel, no fan-assisted heating kicking in, just the patter of rain on the window and the pavement outside. No rush to the office. I hear gentle snoring beside me. I remember that I’m lying next to Llew Griffiths … and my fingers are touching his.
I remain still, listening to his soft snoring. It sounds peaceful. I wonder how to move my hand without waking him.
I actually had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. No worrying about my schedule for the next day, or the new job, just listening to the rain.
The generator starts up and that means coffee – actually, it means tea. A big potful to share.
Llew’s eyes ping open, as I whip away my hand and he sees me staring at him. I blush at getting caught out.
‘Morning,’ he says, smiling.
‘Morning.’
‘Morning all!’ It’s Mae with her boys, bounding in through the back door on their way to school. ‘You all okay?’ she asks. ‘How was it? Did you have any problems? We didn’t wake you, did we?’
I sit up in my sleeping bag and rub my eyes.
‘That’s my Paddington sleeping bag,’ says one boy.
‘No, I was awake,’ I say.
‘We both were,’ says Llew. So he was awake, our fingers just touching in the low morning light.
‘I slept very well with Paddington’s help,’ I say to Mae’s youngest, and rub my hand over my hair. It’s standing on end.
I reach for my glasses from the chair that’s doubling as a bedside table and touch the blown-out candle there, reminding me of our quiet conversation in the dark last night. I put on my glasses and everything comes into vision. It’s chilly but luckily the fire is still in the grate from last night, just glowing.
‘I’ll get some more wood,’ says Llew, stepping out of his sleeping bag in his joggers. A far more relaxed Llew than the smartly dressed one who turned up to talk to Dad about the field on my first day. I watch him go to the back door and return with an armful of wood and a bucket of coal … I’m seeing him in a very different light this morning. He smiles at me again, as if he’s enjoying himself, and I can’t help but smile back, as I remember the touch of his little finger against mine. It made me feel excited and nervous all at the same time. The last thing I need to do right now is fall for Llew Griffiths, but on the other hand, maybe I should live in the moment and let myself enjoy it.
22
‘Look who I found outside,’ says Llew, walking in with Myfanwy, Dad and Evie.
‘I’ve brought some more Welsh cakes,’ says Myfanwy, holding Dad’s arm. I’m not sure who’s supporting whom, him leaning on her or her on him. Either way, it seems to be working. ‘Thought they might lift your spirits. And some bacon. Home-grown. By the way, there’s a queue already outside the door …’
‘I had some cawl in the freezer I thought you might like,’ says Dad, smiling as he sees Llew already carrying a plastic box from the freezer.
Mae opens the door a little way and peeps out, then shuts it quickly. She turns back to us. ‘There’s loads of them! I mean a right long queue!’
We all go to the door and she opens it again. We look out.
Mae turns to me. ‘What are we going to do?”
‘Well,’ I say, ‘they’re here for food and the company …’
