Page 17 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
He picks up the mug. ‘That’s kind. Thank you. You didn’t have to.’
‘No, but I wanted to. Like I say, it’s the least I can do. And hospitality is my thing, so it’s nothing.’
He pours the milk into his mug, then the tea. ‘You work in hospitality?’
I nod. ‘Area manager for the Catref Group, a hotel chain.’
‘I know them.’
‘They’re doing well, expanding now.’
‘Sounds good,’ he says.
‘I’m hoping to take up a new post in January. Just visiting Dad before the Christmas rush.’
‘Ah, I see,’ he says, sipping the tea.
For a moment we say nothing more. Something makes me want to sit and ask him to tell me his plans for working with Dad, knowing I’ll feel better about leaving once I know Dad has help. But it can wait. I’m just glad, that’s all.
‘I have some more chores to do outside. Help yourself to toast and Welsh cakes. They’re in the tin on the kitchen table.’
‘Any chance of the Wi-Fi code?’
‘Ah … No Wi-Fi, and I’m afraid the phone signal isn’t great here. Dad’s quite hard to get hold of, unless it’s on the landline. Best place for signal is up at the feed shed or on Gramps’s field on the bench there.’
‘I know it. Thank you. I’ll get on to my company. Have the car replaced.’
‘Take your time,’ I say, desperate to hear about hisand Dad’s partnership but forcing myself to wait until they’re both downstairs and awake.
I go into the little living room and give it a quick tidy. Puff up the cushions and empty the ashes from the fire into the bucket there, then lay another with scraps of paper and kindling. I stand up just as Dewi, the pup, comes in to jump at me, knocking over the little table with Dad’s phone on it, next to his chair.
The pup bounces around in delight, making me laugh.
‘Whoa!’ I say, picking up the table, the phone and the letter under it and replacing them on the table. Then I walk back into the kitchen. ‘I’m going out to check the fences now,’ I tell Llew, ‘but I could do with a hand re-hanging the gate, if you’re feeling up to it. I can show you where we get signal in the feed shed.’
He looks up at me and I feel a little spark flicker inside me. ‘Fresh air is exactly what I need,’ he says. ‘Especially after such delicious toast. That would be great. I’ll get my coat.’
I find myself feeling quite pleased to have Dad’s new worker here to help me, wishing I didn’t find him so attractive. I must remember I’m only here for a few days. Then I’ll be back at the hotel with Matthew … the man I’m planning to get engaged to and move to Seattle with! It’ll be a long way from Hollybush Farm … I suddenly wish it wasn’t, or that Matthew and I aren’t miles apart, in distance and inhow this place makes me feel. I’m falling in love with the farm all over again. I give Llew a sideways glance and meet his eyes. One thing I do know is that I’m not going to fall in love with this man. He’s here to help Dad, and I’m grateful. The last thing I need is for him to look at me like that. He’s just a helping hand on the gate and the farm. I need to remember that.
I pull on my pink wellingtons, to his laughter. ‘What? I loved these boots!’ I remonstrate, looking down at them.
‘I can see why! Colourful!’
‘Individual!’ I say. ‘A bit like this place. They make me happy!’ I try not to feel that little connection between us when he smiles at me, and fail. But it feels nice. And he likes my boots. Unlike Matthew. In fact there’s a lot about Llew Griffiths that’s very different from Matthew.
10
‘I need to get the gate back on its hinges, then fix some fence posts where I think Bertie and Harriet have been getting out,’ I tell him, as we walk with the dogs bounding around our feet. The rain has stopped and the temperature seems to have dropped, creating a mist that’s curling its way across Gramps’s field. It’s cold, but totally stunning. The wet grass, heavy with rainfall, is now looking whitewashed in the mist. It’s crisp and sparkling, like a child’s Christmas painting. The water butts will need checking tonight and I’ll smash any ice in them.
We work our way down the drive towards the front gates. I look across the valley to the right and the tractor tyre marks leading to Myfanwy’s farm.
‘This is Gramps’s field. It’s the best on the farm. Best for grazing, access and views.’ I’m gazing out overthe white-tipped trees down to the road below. ‘My grandparents were tenants here and my dad bought the farm. The chance came up to buy it and he used his and Mum’s wedding fund as a deposit. She was furious! She’d thought he’d want to leave the place, not stay for ever.’ I find myself telling Llew all the things I’d planned to tell Matthew when we got here and I was showing him around. ‘Eventually they had a small wedding in town, and all the local farmers pitched in, but I don’t think Mum ever forgave him.’ It’s strange how comfortable I feel with this complete stranger, but he’s going to help Dad, and I like that very much. ‘In fact, I know she didn’t.’ I give an ironic laugh. ‘She left when I was still in primary school. I came home one day to be told by Dad she’d gone. It was what she needed to do. We had to understand that. And that we’d be fine.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Didn’t even wait to tell me herself.’
‘That’s tough.’
I shrug.
‘It’s only now that I’m beginning to realize it,’ I say. But it’s true. I was only seven. ‘But Dad was right. We were fine. I had the best growing up. I loved it here.’
