Page 8 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
‘Yes, big bugger. Seems to be having a fine old time in with the ewes. I’m thinking he’s not supposed to be there, but I wasn’t sure.’
‘The ram’s in with the ewes? But how? The gates were shut!’ I must have missed a fallen fence in the dark. ‘The ram’s in with the ewes!’ I realize what this means. ‘He can get in … and they could get out! Quick!’
The man on the doorstep doesn’t need askingtwice. He throws his phone onto the work surface, with a bag of something that smells warm and delicious. I pull the door open and run down the drive, with him in step beside me.
As we reach the field – I’m wearing the head torch – I call instructions.
‘You go left,’ I say ‘I’ll go right.’
Ffion is beside me. There are sheep all over the drive and, clearly having a fine old time, so is Bertie the ram.
At last, with Bertie back in his field, the ewes in theirs, we click the final gate shut, breathing heavily.
‘Well, it’s been a while since I’ve rounded up any stock,’ I say, panting.
‘And a first for me!’ he says, leaning on the gate.
‘Thank you. You were good. Fast.’
‘No problem. But maybe make sure your gate gets fixed at the end of the drive and check for any fallen fences.’
‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’
His breathing calms quicker than mine does. ‘That would be very welcome,’ he says, and again gives me his very attractive smile.
I can’t help but smile back as we turn to walk towards the farmhouse. It’s cold now, and the wind is biting.
‘So, you’re here visiting your dad?’ he asks.
‘Well, I was. But then he had this turn. Not really sure how long I’ll be here.’
‘It’s a lot for him to manage on his own.’
‘It is,’ I say, worry creeping into my voice.
We head for the farmhouse, where the light is on over the door, as it always was. Not like when we arrived the other night.
I pull off my boots and hat. ‘Thank you again for spotting Bertie and helping,’ I say.
‘No problem. I may not be a farmer, but I’ve worked with a few.’
‘Intriguing.’
‘I expect your dad’s told you about me.’
I frown and shake my head, blowing on the tea and wrapping my hands around the cup.
‘We’ve been in conversation. I was due to meet with him over these couple of days. It’s why I’m in the area.’
I frown again. ‘Sorry, what did you say your name was?’
‘Llew. Llewelyn. Your dad doesn’t really do things by email, so I thought I’d visit in person. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’
‘Well, how are you with a hammer and screws to fix a fallen gate?’
He laughs. ‘Not as handy as I’d like to be!’
I laugh with him.
