Page 86 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
‘And if it goes well …’ says Mae.
‘… we could do more!’ My eyes widen. ‘Easter-egg hunts, summer parties for children! Bring in more and more local producers to sell food, hot and cold. Like a food hub. You could have the lorry beside Gramps’s bench and run a daily café there! You could keep going with the jacket potatoes and I could make the cawl and curry to sell. Get people to come to the farm for lunch, serving local produce. It could be brilliant! It’s the perfect spot for the lorry.’
‘I think so,’ says Mae. ‘And, of course, we’d get the right paperwork and consents and make it all above board.’
‘Gramps’s Field Café!’ I say. ‘You run it and I’ll supply the potatoes and cawl.’
She grins. ‘It could be perfect!’
‘And,’ says Evie, ‘use the barns for producers, like me. A barn to make my dog leads in.’
‘We could do them up!” I say, excited. ‘A proper farmers’ and producers’ food-stall market.’
‘And rent the barns to other food producers, once they’re done up.’
‘But if we use Gramps’s field, where will everyone park?’
‘I’ve got room,’ says Myfanwy. ‘You can use the connecting field at mine.’
‘Yes!’ exclaims Dad. ‘And you can do more of your baking and sell it there. It’ll be delivered straight from your farmhouse to the market.’
‘But!’ I say, and they all look at me.
‘But what?’ Llew asks.
‘But what if no one comes?’ I say, and the room falls flat again.
‘But what if they do?’ says Llew. ‘We’ll get it on social media. Explain what’s going on and what people can expect. What they can get out of coming.’
‘People want to feel connected and that’s what you did,’ says Mae.
‘It’s a risk,’ I say, ‘trying something new. The solar panels would be a safer bet.’ I look at Dad.
‘Maybe this farm has been playing it safe for too many years. Like Myfanwy says, we’re set in our ways, me and her. We’re so used to our farms being next to each other and being rivals over the ram, we wouldn’t try something new, like getting along. It took a bout of sepsis to change that! And the threat of losing the farm! Who’d have thought you talkinginto your phone and telling everyone about what it’s like on the farm could have made such a difference and touch people’s lives?’ He gazes at me so proudly. ‘Got to be worth a shot, love,’ he says.
‘But we’ve so much to lose,’ I say, and look round the room. ‘But so much to gain if it works.’
They wait with bated breath.
‘A weekly food-stall market … events here, at the farm.’
‘Bringing farmers back together,’ says Owen.
‘And the people living here,’ says Mae. ‘Getting them eating better food. Knowing where it comes from.’ She turns to Josh. ‘It’s what people want these days.’
‘And comfort food,’ I say. ‘Food that makes them feel good, in a place they can spend time with family and friends that isn’t a brightly coloured fast-food outlet.’
‘Or, worse, a drive-through,’ says Mae.
‘Maybe you could run some rugby workshops, in the summer … get people working out on the farm,’ says Llew, making me smile. ‘You don’t need an indoor gym to stay fit. And it’s so good for the mind too.’
‘Imagine if Gramps could see it. The barns full of people who want to make local produce. The field full of food trucks. We could even do allotments and rent them to people,’ I say, my mind galloping ahead.‘Get people coming here, instead of heading out of town.’ I look around. ‘It has to be worth a try. I can’t promise they’ll come, but there’s only one way to find out.’
‘When?’ says Mae.
I smile. ‘A New Year’s Eve street-food festival here at the farm!’
And with that Hope, the premature lamb, gives a little bleat of encouragement and we laugh.
