Appleby Farm (32 page)

‘Right, folks,’ I yelled, running back up the path towards the kitchen. ‘Come on. One hour till party time!’

I bounded back inside, wreathed in smiles, took a big breath and dug deep for inspiring words. Tilly, Lizzie and Auntie Sue blinked at me expectantly.

‘Yes, it is a setback. Yes, we could have done without that poisonous review.’ I hesitated and pulled a face. ‘Slight understatement there.’

I attempted a laugh but it emerged more like a squawk.

Blank faces stared back at me.

I tried again. ‘Come on, chaps, don’t look so down. I believe in what we’re trying to do and I know you do too. And once people come through the doors they will love it. Fact.’ I jabbed a finger in the air to drive home my point.

It took me a few seconds to notice that Uncle Arthur was no longer sitting down but standing in the doorway to the hall. His eyebrows were knotted and he rocked on his tiptoes, jingling the coins in his pocket.

‘Tell her, Artie,’ Auntie Sue whispered.

‘What? What is it?’ I swallowed and the hairs on my arms stood up.

Uncle Arthur coughed, folded his arms and looked down at the floor.

‘You just missed your brother on the phone.’

I groaned. ‘Not again. Tell him to leave us alone. Especially today. We’re too busy to listen to …’ My words dried up as I noticed everyone’s nervous faces. ‘What is it?’

‘He’s found a buyer for Appleby Farm, lass,’ said Auntie Sue quietly, a pink blush creeping up from her neck to her cheeks.

‘Another farm wants to take it on,’ added my uncle, stroking his chin. I hadn’t seen his pallor so grey since his heart attack.

‘But …’ Words failed me. I sank down on to the bench at the kitchen table. Nobody spoke.

I had a contingency for every eventuality today, or so I thought: an umbrella stand if it rained; outdoor tables and chairs if it was sunny; a bucket of carrots and little bags of corn for children to feed the animals; vegan, gluten-free, nut-free and diabetic treats for special diets and even, much to Auntie Sue’s disgust, some non-dairy ice cream! The one thing I didn’t anticipate was an eleventh-hour sabotage attempt from my big brother.

Tilly and Lizzie scooted up along the bench and slung their arms round me, muttering condolences.

What was the point in even opening the tea rooms now? Even if people did turn up – and that was looking unlikely, thanks to Victoria – who knew whether we’d even still be here in two months’ time?

I class myself as a happy-go-lucky sort of person, but at this moment, my powers of optimism were being well and truly tested.

The radio was still on but I was too distracted to notice which song was playing. However, I did tune in when I heard Victoria’s voice. In fact, my whole body did, tensing like a tight rubber band poised to go ping.

Ooh
, she trilled,
we’ve got a caller on the line. Hello there, you’re live on air speaking to Victoria Moon!

Um. Hi
, said a youngish male voice.
I just heard your review of Appleby Farm Vintage Tea Rooms and I
—

My ears pricked up. That voice sounded familiar …

Hold your horses! Tell the listeners your name and where you come from
, giggled Victoria.

Oh. Sorry. It’s Harry Graythwaite and I’m from Lovedale.

My heart went boom at the sound of his voice. What was he up to?

‘Harry?’ Tilly hissed. ‘Is that your Harry?’

I nodded rapidly. Lizzie nudged me and I realized what I’d done and turned scarlet. My Harry.

Well, he-llo, Harry. Again.
More giggling.

I gritted my teeth. The woman was such an outrageous flirt.

Lizzie shot me a look. ‘I’m going to kill her,’ she muttered.

Yes, well, as I was saying, I’m calling about Appleby Farm Vintage Tea Rooms.

I loved the way he gave it its full name like that.

And I was a bit confused when I heard your review.
He chuckled.

You and me both, I agreed silently.

Because I was there the other day and had the most amazing chocolate fudge cake, washed down with a pot of lapsang souchong.

Auntie Sue and I exchanged looks and shrugged. That was news to us!

Really?
said Victoria incredulously.
Well
—

And the views from the barn. In a word. Wow. Breathtaking. On a clear day you can see right down the valley from Lovedale all the way to Lake Windermere, sparkling like a sliver of sapphire in the distance.

You make it sound so romantic
, said Victoria breathlessly.

At last, I thought, something she and I agreed on. I looked round the kitchen and bit back a giggle. It looked like we all agreed. Tilly and Lizzie were chewing their bottom lips, Auntie Sue was clutching her bosom and even Uncle Arthur had gone dewy-eyed.

It is
, Harry replied and then lowered his voice.
And on a serious note, you didn’t get your facts straight. It’s true that Appleby Farm was hit by TB a while ago but it poses no threat to humans and I’m delighted to say that the vet tested the herd last week and gave them the all-clear.

Auntie Sue and Uncle Arthur gave each other relieved smiles and I crossed my fingers; only one more test to go in September and if that was clear as well, life could go back to normal.

Really? Gosh, I didn’t know that
, stuttered Victoria.

And Appleby Farm needs our support now more than ever. We’re all part of a unique community here in Cumbria. The Moorcrofts are doing what they can to preserve a traditional Lakeland farm and I think that should be applauded and supported. Don’t you?

Well, I—

And what better way for children to learn about our heritage than to see a working farm in action while enjoying freshly made produce. And I’ve heard that the first fifty children to visit today will receive a free cookie.

Eek! I looked at my watch. Time until launch: one hour. Number of cookies baked: zero.

‘We don’t have any cookies!’ Auntie Sue whispered anxiously.

I shushed her as Victoria asked Harry whether he would be coming to the launch. I held my breath.

Sadly I can’t make it. One of my sows has gone into labour and she had eight piglets last time and one of them got his head stuck
—

Whoa, thank you, Harry, family show, et cetera …’

So, if you’re listening, Freya, sorry I
—

Clunk.

Oh dear
, said Victoria swiftly,
we seem to have lost Harry. Let’s play some music …

I snapped off the radio and stood up, head in the whirliest whirl ever. I was struggling to take everything in: Julian’s call, Victoria’s scathing attack and now Harry’s heroic attempt at damage limitation, which was so amazing and kind and completely unexpected. Our little team had been through the wringer this morning and it was up to me to get everyone back on track.

I put on my best encouraging smile. ‘OK. The way I see it is this …’
Julian is a tossy-tosspot and I hate him
, was what I thought, but instead I said, ‘Whatever happens, whether you do decide to sell to Julian’s farm person, Uncle Arthur and Auntie Sue; whether two or twenty people turn up today after Victoria’s glowing review, one thing is for absolute certain: Appleby Farm Vintage Tea Rooms are opening today. We have guests arriving in one hour and Harry Graythwaite has thrown us a lifeline. So let’s go out there and give our visitors a huge Appleby Farm welcome.’

Tilly and Lizzie whooped and clapped their hands.

‘Oh,’ I laughed, ‘and does anyone have a recipe for cookies?’

‘I do!’ yelled Tilly. ‘I make chocolate chip cookies with the children at school all the time.’

‘Fabulous!’ I beamed. ‘Right. Action stations. Auntie Sue – scones please. Lizzie – over to the tea rooms and set up cups and saucers on every table. And I’m going to prep the fruit for the ice-cream sundaes. OK, chop, chop.’ I clapped my hands and they all leaped into action.

And suddenly we were back on track, full of vim and vigour, and brimming with purpose. The kitchen filled with clouds of flour and the aroma of chocolate as Tilly and Auntie Sue started their baking. Uncle Arthur began to slope off to the office and I ran out to the hall and caught him up.

‘Uncle Arthur!’

He turned and I grabbed hold of his hands. You could never mistake him for anything other than a farmer: the sleeves of his check shirt were rolled up as a concession to summer, although he still had a flat cap on, and he was wearing braces to keep his baggy trousers up now that the results of his new diet were beginning to show.

‘I know how important it is to the two of you to retire. And I am all for that. Truly. No one deserves to take it easier in their old age more than you.’ I grinned at this last bit.

‘Oi, less of the old,’ he chuntered, raising an eyebrow.

‘I just …’ I swallowed a lump in my throat, suddenly unsure of myself. Was I being fair? Should I simply let them retire, sell up and let the farm go, make it as easy as possible for them?

Or fight for it? Because once land has gone, it’s gone for ever. Fact.

‘I don’t want you to sell the farm,’ I blurted out. ‘Just give me a chance to make a go of it.’

Uncle Arthur’s shoulders sagged. ‘Freya, lass, there’s no one I’d rather see staying on here, keeping the Moorcroft family at Appleby Farm, than you. You know that.’

I nodded hopefully. He cupped a rough hand round my cheek and rubbed away a tear that I hadn’t realized was there.

‘Look, Uncle Arthur, I haven’t got enough money and I haven’t quite got my head round what I’d do with a huge farmhouse and a hundred and fifty acres of land. But I just have this feeling here.’

I pressed a hand to my heart.

‘It’s doable. I know it is. I just haven’t worked out how yet. Do you have to sell? Can’t you stay in the farmhouse and rent out the fields?’

He lifted his cap and scratched his head.

‘Your brother has come up with a good offer from another farm. We haven’t talked money yet, I know,’ he admitted, ‘but at least the land would stay as farmland, which is a big plus in my book. And your auntie can have that bungalow she’s after.’ He peered into my eyes and we shared a smile.

‘Two months,’ I pleaded. ‘Please. Give me two months to make a proper go of the tea rooms and to come up with an alternative plan before you give Julian an answer.’ Even as my mouth was forming the words, I was aware how ridiculous it was. Short of winning the lottery, what could I possibly conjure up in that time?

‘All right,’ whispered Uncle Arthur, shooting a worried look towards the kitchen. ‘But it’s just between you and me. Don’t tell your auntie or she’ll have my guts for garters.’

I grabbed hold of his whiskery face and planted a smacker on his cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. Now, I must dash. I’ve got tea rooms to open.’

By eleven o’clock quite a crowd had built up outside the tea rooms. The great and the good of Lovedale and the surrounding villages were there, as well as the delightful Patience Purdue from the planning office, the
Gazette
’s photographer and a mousy lady called Jayne from the local tourist information office. Quite a few families had arrived and I would be eternally grateful to Tilly for baking the biggest mountain of cookies I’d ever seen to hand out to the over-excited children.

The place was buzzing.
I
was buzzing, come to that, and despite all the drama of the first part of the day, I was having a ball. Ross and I had tied the huge blue ribbon across the locked barn doors into a big bow and it looked fabulous. Then Lizzie realized she’d been locked in and pressed herself up against the glass from the inside, yelling for help until Ross reminded her that she could escape through the fire exit. But now all of us were ready for the grand opening.

I beckoned Auntie Sue and Uncle Arthur to join me at the ribbon and handed them the gold scissors.

I cleared my throat and mothers and wives shushed their children and husbands respectively.

‘Good morning, everyone, and welcome to Appleby Farm Vintage Tea Rooms. Thank you all so much for joining us on this very special occasion. I hope that the tea rooms will become a real hub of the community in the months to come and that you’ll all become regular guests.’

I crossed my fingers behind my back praying that this would be the case and that Julian’s sale would simply evaporate into thin air.

‘So without further ado …’

My eye was suddenly distracted by a taxi speeding into the yard and grinding to a halt in a cloud of dust. A tall elegant woman emerged, slammed the door and ran as quickly as her heels would allow towards the crowd.

‘Mum!’ I cried.

‘Freya! I’m not too late, am I?’

‘Over to you, Uncle Arthur.’ I grinned and dashed through the crowd to give my mum a hug.

‘I’m delighted to declare the Appleby Farm Vintage Tea Rooms well and truly open,’ said Uncle Arthur, doing his best to hack his way through the thick ribbon with Auntie Sue’s sewing scissors.

The doors opened, the crowd surged forward and Tilly, Lizzie and Auntie Sue fought their way inside to take their places at the counter.

‘This is such a lovely surprise,’ I squealed, kissing Mum’s cheek.

‘You didn’t really think I’d miss my little girl’s big day, did you, darling?’ She laughed, her brown eyes shining happily.

‘I’m so glad.’ I fanned my face to fend off the tears. ‘Come on, let’s go inside and see if we can find you a table.’

‘A table? You must be joking,’ she said, slipping off her jacket. ‘You can find me an apron, please, I’m here to help!’

My mum had flown in from Paris to be my waitress. My chest heaved with happiness.

‘Thanks, Mum.’

At five minutes past five the last group of customers left the tea rooms.

‘Bye, thank you for coming!’ I waved them off towards the car park, stepped back inside and pulled a victory elbow-into-the-hip punch.

‘Right. Beer and bubbles!’

Tilly uncorked bottles of prosecco and I passed round glasses and bottles of beer, specially stashed in the fridge for this moment, and a merry little crowd toasted our first day’s trading. As well as my staff (loved, loved, loved saying that!), I’d asked Goat and his men to join us for a celebratory drink. Eddy and Ross came along too and a party atmosphere soon kicked in.