Winter Snowfall at Elder Fell Farm (Elder Fell Farm #2)

1. Big Bottoms on Little Chairs

Chapter 1

Big Bottoms on Little Chairs

‘ I s this your sock?’

‘The one with the Grinch on it? Yes, that’s it. Now I just need the other one.’

‘It might be in the living room. That’s where most of my clothes are. I’ll see if I can find it.’ Amy put on her dressing gown and went to check in the open-plan living area of her flat. Matt’s shoes lay where he had kicked them off twenty minutes earlier as they had stumbled in through the door, already helping each other out of their clothes. Their winter coats were in a pile beside the door and her shirt was draped over the arm of the sofa but she was still missing Matt’s sock and her bra. She righted a dining chair which had been knocked over in the heat of the moment. Looking up she saw the bra dangling from the end of one of the highest branches of the Christmas tree. Amy stood on tiptoe to retrieve it and Matt, fully dressed now except for his missing sock, wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck.

‘I told you that tree was too big for this tiny flat!’ he teased.

‘That has nothing to do with it. You shouldn’t have flung my bra across the room like that.’

‘You weren’t complaining at the time.’

‘No, I wasn’t.’ She leaned back against him and relished the warmth of his body against hers. ‘It was wonderful. So nice to have you all to myself.’

‘I know. I can’t wait to get to Elder Fell Farm for Christmas and have seven whole days –’

‘And seven whole nights,’ she reminded him, with a big grin.

‘– just you and me.’

‘And the boys.’

‘Yes, but the boys will be in another room with a thick stone wall between us, and we’ll have our own bed, big enough for both of us,’ Matt said.

‘Have you got any time for us to get together before then?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ve got ten hour shifts every day for the next week or so. Eight ‘til six.’ Matt worked as a mobile mechanic, rescuing stranded motorists and fixing their cars.

‘You’re joking! Surely they can’t make you work those hours.’

‘Busy time of year. And with the number of staff they’ve had to lay off recently, I’ve got to work when I’m told or I’ll be next. It’ll all be worth it when I get a whole ten days off over Christmas. I don’t mind doing all the extra shifts now if I can have Christmas off. But that means I haven’t got another day off until next Friday’ He pulled a face. ‘It’s a long time to wait.’

‘But that’s a teacher training day, so the boys’ll be with us.’

‘Dammit, I’d forgotten about that. What about the weekend? ’

‘I’m doing that craft fair up in Darlington. Harry’s at his dad’s, but I won’t be back until late on Saturday and I’ll have to go out very early on Sunday,’ Amy said.

‘Do you want to come and stay over at mine?’

Amy hesitated. ‘You know I’d love to stay at your house but …’

Matt sat on one end of the sofa. ‘But you don’t want to sleep in the bed I used to share with Stella. I get that.’

Amy sat on his knee and snuggled up against him. ‘It’s a bit weird, sleeping in the bed you used to share with your wife. It doesn’t feel right. You do understand?’ She looked at him.

‘Of course I do.’ He kissed her on the tip of her nose. ‘And as soon as Oliver’s ready I’ll buy a new bed, redecorate and make the room ours but he’s not ready to get rid of his mum’s things yet. It would be different if she was still alive. I spoke to him about it, and he tried to be very grown up and sensible but his bottom lip shook, you know, the way it does when he’s going to cry.’

‘I understand. Oliver has to come first. In the meantime, we can always be together here,’ she said.

‘As long as the boys aren’t with us.’

‘The walls are very thin,’ Amy admitted.

‘And the bed is very small. And creaky.’

‘This flat just isn’t big enough for four people.’ She looked around as if she could expand the compact living space by staring very hard at it. ‘But I never imagined when I let Harry have the big bedroom that I’d ever meet someone like you.’

‘Someone tall, and handsome and very, very sexy …’ He nibbled her earlobe, sending shivers of delight through he r body.

‘And so modest. Now stop that, we haven’t got time,’ she said.

‘There’s always time.’ He sneaked his hand inside her dressing gown.

‘There really isn’t!’ She laughed, removed his hand and placed it back on his knee. ‘You’ve got to get to that meeting at work in about half an hour, and then there’s the school Christmas spectacular this afternoon.’

‘Do I have to go to that?’ He pulled a face.

‘You know you do. Your son’s got the starring role. Now, get dressed, go to that meeting, and I’ll see you this afternoon.’

‘I still haven’t found my sock.’

She looked around. ‘Here it is – in the recycling box.’ She picked it up and gave it to him. ‘Now go on. Get your coat on; it’s pouring down outside.’

‘Not long now until we’re on our way to Elder Fell Farm for our first family holiday!’ He put his sock back on and slipped his feet into his work shoes.

‘Can’t wait.’ She handed him his coat.

‘See you this afternoon.’ He gave her a quick kiss and swung out of the front door.

Huddled under her umbrella, Amy waited for Matt outside the entrance to Saddleton Primary Academy. A stream of proud parents filed past her on their way in to the performance. Where was he? It wasn’t like him to be late, and all the best seats would be taken by now. She checked her watch as the water began to soak through the outer layers of her boots. At last he appeared round the corner. Rain ran down his face and his sandy hair was plastered to his head .

‘Every street for miles around is parked up,’ he said. ‘It’s chaos!’

‘Come on, let’s get inside. Hope there’s some seats left,’ she said.

‘Not too close to the front. I don’t want to put Oliver off, he’s been so wound up about it,’ said Matt.

‘The P.T.A. will have nabbed all of the front row seats by now anyway. Come on, let’s get it over with.’

Matt opened the door under the old carved stonework which read Infants. Inside a corridor led past the reception desk to the school hall. The hall hummed with a mixture of excitement, nervous anticipation and condensation. The excitement came from the Key Stage One children who were seated along the edge of the stage, dressed as penguins. The nervous anticipation came from the massed ranks of proud parents and carers, perched on plastic chairs many sizes too small for them. The condensation came from the skylights. Outside the rain was sheeting down and water had soaked into the coats, boots and trousers of the audience. Inside, the school heating system was cranked up as high as it would go. Anybody unwary enough to sit beneath one of the rooflights was likely to find condensation dripping on them.

‘There’s two seats over there.’ Amy pointed towards the far side of the hall, but Matt grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards out into the corridor.

‘Shit!’ he said, looking at the double doors as if some horrific monsters were about to burst through them.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ She was concerned. Matt appeared to be having some kind of attack. His face had gone grey. ‘Do you need a doctor?’

‘No. No, we can’t go in there together, Amy.’

‘Whyever not? Everybody who’s seen us on the playground knows we’re going out. It’s not a secret.’

‘Diane,’ he said in a tone of utter doom. ‘Diane’s in there.’

‘What, Stella’s mum? You said she was coming to yesterday’s show.’

‘She was. She did. At least, I thought she did. But she’s in there right now. She can’t see us together. I still haven’t told her about you and me.’

‘Then maybe this is a good opportunity?’ Amy suggested with a hopeful glance towards the doors.

‘No. I can’t do it right now. She’ll be so upset.’

‘You don’t think she might be pleased for you?’ She knew that was how her mother would have felt if their situation had been reversed.

‘You don’t know Diane. She’s never pleased about anything, especially since Stella died.’

‘That’s understandable. She’s still grieving, I expect, but don’t you think that’s her problem, not yours?’ She reached out to take his hand, but he didn’t seem to even notice. Matt was usually so calm and considered about everything; it was rare to see him this anxious. ‘We can do this together,’ she assured him.

‘It’s not that simple.’ He unwound the scarf from his neck as if it had become too hot and constricting.

‘Why not?’

‘Oliver,’ he said as he stuffed the scarf into his pocket. ‘Since Stella’s death there’s been a special bond between him and Diane. Olly lost so much when his mum died, and if I do something that wrecks his relationship with his granny … his last link to his mum …’

‘Aren’t you his last link to his mum?’ she said.

He carried on talking as if she hadn’t spoken, oblivious to another couple of audience members making their way past him into the hall.

‘Diane depends on him too. She’s a proud woman and she doesn’t have many friends. Her husband died a while ago, and she fell out with Stella’s sister, Veronica, so now they don’t speak. When Stella died, Diane was left with no-one except us. She dotes on Olly, and he loves her.’

‘Which is understandable, but surely nothing’ll change that?’ The heat inside the school was overwhelming. Her winter coat stifled her so she unzipped it.

‘I haven’t told her that me and Stella were going to get divorced.’ He helped her out of her coat.

‘She would’ve found out if Stella hadn’t died. You’d be divorced by now.’

‘But Stella did die and I never said anything.’ Matt lowered his voice as a large group of chattering parents walked past them into the hall. ‘No-one knows about that except you and my mam – not even Oliver.’ He held out her coat to her and met her eye, with a mixture of guilt and desperation. ‘I can’t tell him yet. He’s still struggling with his mum’s death, so how can I tell him that as well?’ He guided her further away from the door, into a window alcove down the corridor where they wouldn’t be so much in the way, or so easily overheard.

‘Couldn’t you tell Diane? Olly doesn’t have to know until you think he’s ready,’ she said. ‘Surely she wouldn’t tell him?’

‘I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell either of them.’ He looked down at the puddle their dripping shoes were making on the parquet floor. ‘And not right now, not just before Christmas. It might set her back to where she was last year, and she’s been doing much better recently.’

‘You obviously care a lot about her,’ Amy said.

‘I’m not sure I’d put it like that, but she doesn’t have anyone else.’ He glanced towards the door as an older couple opened it and walked in. Inside the hall someone was announcing that the audience needed to take their seats. ‘I feel kind of responsible for her.’

Amy glanced at her watch. There were only ten minutes before the play was due to start, which wasn’t long enough to try and talk through any of this with Matt. He’d never really told her much about Stella’s family and she’d never asked. This wasn’t the time nor the place to begin that conversation.

‘Neither of us can miss the play, so you go and sit with Diane, and I’ll find a seat somewhere else,’ Amy said. ‘We’ll talk about this later. It’s a shame we can’t sit together, but there’ll be other years, and the boys won’t care as long as we’re both there.’ She smiled. Matt seemed worried enough already; if she over-reacted it would make things worse.

‘You’re the best.’ He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, but not before checking carefully over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. ‘I don’t deserve you. Go on, you get in, and I’ll give it a minute before I follow you.’

In the hall she found a seat over in the corner by the piano, from which she could observe everyone else in the audience. She watched as Matt entered and took a seat beside a tall, thin, grey woman with impeccably styled hair. That must be Diane. The older woman sat neatly on her little blue plastic chair, ankles folded tidily, hands placed precisely in her lap. There was something familiar about the tilt of her head. She looked intently at everything that interested her as if analysing it scientifically. Oliver looked at things that way, as if peering beyond what he could see on the surface and trying to interpret what lay beneath. Sometimes his intense gaze was quite unnerving. He had an old soul, as Amy’s mother might have said.

There were now just five minutes before the play was due to start, and she would have got her phone out to pass the time, but Ms Lewandowska, the head teacher, did not approve of phones in the school hall. It was one thing to be up and down to the head teacher’s office to discuss Harry’s latest misdemeanour, but another thing to be told off by the head for her own misbehaviour. Harry never meant to do any of the things that got him into trouble, but Harry didn’t always think first. James, her ex-husband, was always telling him off about that, but Amy knew he didn’t mean to create chaos. It just kind of happened when Harry was around. She’d lost count of the number of school productions where he’d been the centre of the wrong kind of drama.

Maybe this year would be different.