Page 31 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
‘Just … Good for you, Jem.’ He puts a hand out and squeezes my shoulder. ‘Someone needs to be saying it. You always were the one to take the lead and others followed.’
I laugh. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘Well, you left, and most of the town followed. Not many of us stayed. You were the one with the right idea. You always were independent-minded.’ He adds, ‘They were good times, Jem.’
Suddenly, I have no idea why, I feel a deep sense of betrayal: I let down the town. The farm and the town. The place where I had such a wonderful growing-up: I left and gave nothing back. Like Mum. Just ran away.
Owen nods shyly to Evie, then to me and raises a hand in farewell. ‘See you around, if you’re still here?’ he says, and although I don’t think he meant anything by it, it hurts.
My phone rings. It’s Matthew.
‘Hi!’ I say.
He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. ‘What’s all this about you on social media? I’m getting loads of messages.’
‘Oh, that …’ I try to laugh it off. ‘It was just a bit of …’ I can’t say it was fun. ‘Maybe I should have kept it to myself.’
‘Well, it’s not going to do us any favours if the bosses see it,’ he snaps. I’m feeling told off. He’s right. It’s not ‘on brand’ for the hotel chain.
‘You can barely see it’s me in it.’
‘Hardly recognizable, I agree, but it is from your account.’
‘Yes, I know. I’ll take it down.’
‘Best you do,’ he says, letting out a long sigh.
I feel as if a small flame thrower has ignited in the pit of my stomach. I want to tell him this is important to me and should be to him. Instead I stop myselfand think of another way to get him to support this part of my life. ‘Matthew, how do you feel about spending Christmas here at the farm?’
He laughs and I don’t. There’s an awkward pause.
‘You’re not serious,’ he says, suddenly very serious.
‘It could be fun!’ I say, frowning at his response.
He takes a beat, then speaks slowly and clearly. ‘We have Christmas plans. We work and then we leave for Seattle. It’s all booked.’
‘I know, I know.’ I realize it’s a big ask. It’s almost as if I’m testing things … testing ‘us’. ‘And it’ll be lovely. I’m just wondering … if we could postpone it.’
‘Postpone the Seattle trip?’ he says, as if he’s misheard me. ‘But we’re meeting with the hotel owners.’
‘Yes, but I’d like to stay here with Dad. What if we just said we’re taking Christmas off? Going home!’ My laugh sounds slightly hysterical. Any previous year I’d’ve been the first to say, ‘The thought of it! Taking Christmas off when you work in hospitality? Ridiculous!’ But that’s exactly what I want to do.
‘Are you okay, Jem?’ he says, a little more quietly. ‘Do you have a temperature? Can you get the nurse to check you over?’
I watch through the window as Owen gives the ham from his jacket potato to his dog. She swallows it as he drives away.
‘It’s just good catching up with people here. And then there’s Dad.’
‘I know he’s your dad, but he’s telling you to go and live your life. He’d want you to go to Seattle.’
‘You’re right. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I’ll work it out. I’ll be back.’ I’m trying to snap out of the desire to stay and get back into work mode.
‘This place is a dive. Wish school was closer to the outlet centre. At least we could get Greggs!’ says a girl, arriving with friends in the café.
‘Apparently she’s from around here, but moved away. The one in the video,’ says another, studying her phone. ‘You can tell by the fields.’
‘Okay, okay,’ I say to Matthew. ‘Look, I have to go. I need to get back to see Dad. I’ll take down the post, don’t worry.’ I hang up, my finger hovering over the post’s delete button.
