Chapter 13
13
POPPY
I was immersed in my work at the dining table the following morning when a message came through from Wilf.
From Wilf
Hope you’re having a good break. Got back from the shops earlier to find Damon on your drive peering through your window. Told him to clear off but he demanded to know where you were. I told him you were on holiday but not where. Might have emphasised my police connections. Don’t think he’ll be back. Benji sends a high paw your way
He’d accompanied his message with a pawprint emoji which would normally have made me smile, but my stomach was churning at the thought of Damon loitering around the house. I’d just have to hope that my absence, Wilf’s refusal to give him any more information and the threat of speaking to one of his former colleagues would be enough to drive home the message that I didn’t want him in my life. And if it didn’t, maybe I would need to involve the police myself. I didn’t want to go down that road but, if he wouldn’t leave me alone, I might have no choice.
To Wilf
Sending a high paw back to Benji and thanks to both of you for guarding my house. Fingers crossed he’ll stay away from now on. Having a lovely break – just what I needed
I returned to my work, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door half an hour later. As soon as I opened it, I recognised my visitor and was momentarily starstruck. Amber Crawford was tall with long auburn hair hanging in gentle waves from beneath a forest-green beanie hat. She looked more like her mum – the TV presenter Jules Crawford – than her dad.
‘You must be Poppy,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘I’m Amber. Am I disturbing your work?’
‘No. I was just about to make a coffee,’ I said, finding my voice. ‘Would you like one?’
‘I’d love one. White, no sugar, please.’
I felt ridiculously self-conscious. Mary would have told Amber that I loved her dad’s work and I hoped she didn’t think I was some sort of obsessed fan stalking him.
‘Do you want to go through to the lounge and I’ll be through with the drinks in a minute?’ I asked, immediately regretting it as the Darrington Detects boxset was still on the coffee table. Although maybe that wasn’t so bad. If Mary had told her about our full conversation, she’d know it had been triggered by her spotting the boxset.
‘Mary says you’re here on a working holiday,’ Amber said when I handed over her drink a little later.
‘Yes. I haven’t had a holiday for years and this was a last-minute thing. I’m a beekeeping accountant and, while the bees have stayed at home, the balance sheets have come with me.’ I was very aware of my rapid speech, but my heart was pounding. Although Amber wasn’t on television like her family, she’d produced several programmes I watched, and I was having a serious fangirl moment.
‘A beekeeping accountant?’ she said, sounding intrigued. ‘Not an obvious combination.’
I explained how I’d got into beekeeping and how there’d been a limited window to get away before the hives needed a lot more attention.
‘What do you do with what you produce?’ she asked.
‘I sell the honey to a local farm shop but that’s about it. There’s so much more I’d love to do but I just don’t have the time. Several years back, I was experimenting with products using beeswax and even had a company name and branding but my mum received a terminal illness diagnosis so I put it all on hold. After we lost her, Dad got a dementia diagnosis and time has never been on my side since.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear about your parents.’
‘Thank you. Dad’s still with us but he doesn’t recognise me, which is hard, and another reason I needed some time away.’
‘You certainly chose a beautiful place to stay.’
I nodded with enthusiasm. ‘I’ve never been to this area before, but I love it. I’ve had a walk along the path each morning and it’s so peaceful looking across your farm. You’re very lucky to live here.’
‘I count my blessings every day. I visited loads of farms while filming Countryside Calendar and it was my dream to live on one eventually, and then I met Barney and my dream came true. Speaking of which…’
She reached inside her coat and removed a thick cream envelope which she passed to me.
I stared at the envelope, but I didn’t take it.
‘You don’t have to invite me to your… Don’t feel any pressure… Mary spotted the DVDs and she… I’m not a crazed fan… It’s your day and…’
Amber laughed lightly and placed the envelope on my knee. ‘I don’t think you’re a crazed fan, Mary’s not the sort of person to pressure someone into anything, and it would be a pleasure to invite you and your friend to the evening do, or just you if your friend can’t come.’
‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘I’m sure. You’re a guest on our farm and you’re welcome as a guest on Saturday. One of us will make sure you get an introduction to my dad.’
My hand fluttered to my throat. ‘I’m already nervous at the thought.’
‘Don’t be. My dad’s lovely and he’s really normal and down to earth. He finds the fame thing hilarious. My whole family do. Everyone’s grounded, but I do understand the starstruck thing. Over the years, I’ve got to know loads of celebs through my work and my family, but sometimes I’ll see someone at an awards ceremony who I’ve not met before and I swear my legs turn to jelly. It’s ridiculous! They’re just people but there’s me having palpitations and getting all tongue-tied.’
‘I feel a bit better about it now, knowing it happens to you too.’
‘Not just me. It’s happened to my mum, dad, brother and sister. They can all share a few tales of when they’ve been fangirls or boys. You know Annabelle Coates?’
I nodded. Who didn’t? Annabelle Coates was acting royalty. Now in her early sixties, she’d had an award-winning career spanning five decades and, as well as a successful and versatile television career, she’d starred in several major films.
‘I’m a huge fan of her work and when someone introduced us, I was so overwhelmed that my mind went blank and do you know what I did?’ Amber clapped her hands to her cheeks. ‘I still cringe thinking about this. I asked her if she knew where the toilets were. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I told her how I shouldn’t drink champagne because it goes right through me and I spend half the night peeing. Who meets their hero and tells them about their bladder functions? Honestly!’
‘What did she say?’ I asked, tickled by the anecdote and feeling much more relaxed that Amber was so normal .
‘She looked a little shocked, but she pointed me in the direction of the toilets and I scuttled off. I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my life hiding from her, but she sidled up to me later that evening and said, I have the same problem with Prosecco, darling, which is why I only ever drink champers. With the Prosecco, I’m never off the potty !’
‘She didn’t!’
‘She absolutely did and it broke the ice. We’re great friends now and she’s coming to the wedding.’
My eyes widened. ‘I’m even more nervous now.’
‘Don’t be. She’s really approachable. There are some pretentious do you know who I am? types out there but they’re not our sort of people. Everyone who’s coming is genuine and lovely. You’ll have a great time.’
I gasped as it suddenly struck me that I had nothing suitable to wear. I’d only brought casual clothes and loungewear with me. I knew the closest city was York, but I really didn’t have time to make that trip. Reddfield – the nearest town – hadn’t looked very big on the map so didn’t necessarily have any clothes shops.
‘Everything okay?’ Amber asked, looking at me with concern.
‘I’d love to come – thank you – but I’ve just realised I’ve got nothing with me to wear. Where are the nearest clothes shops?’
‘I can lend you something if you like. You look about the same size as me.’
Scarcely able to believe this was happening, we exchanged sizes. At five foot eight, I was an inch shorter than Amber and we were the same dress size so borrowing something to wear was an option, but I had small feet for my height – only a size five compared to Amber’s seven – so shoes weren’t.
‘Why don’t you come over to the farm with me now?’ she suggested. ‘We can see if I have anything you like. I won’t be offended if you don’t share the same taste as me.’
‘I’d love to, but are you sure? It’s bad enough that I’m gatecrashing your wedding without stealing your clothes too.’
Amber laughed. ‘It’ll be my pleasure. I’ve got a wardrobe full of clothes bought for events and awards and I can’t see myself wearing any of them again now that I’ve left that world behind.’
‘You’re not a TV producer anymore?’
‘No. I used to love all the travel but, after I met Barney, it got progressively harder to be away from him, the farm and the friends I’d made here. I finished filming a docuseries last spring – The Wildlife Rescuers – and my final Countryside Calendar in the summer.’
‘I hadn’t realised. What are you doing now?’
‘All sorts. Obviously, there’s been the wedding to plan, but I’m a guest tutor on a media studies course at the local tech, I volunteer at Hedgehog Hollow – the rescue centre where most of The Wildlife Rescuers was filmed – and I help out at the farm. I loved being a producer, but I hadn’t realised how shattered I was until I let it go. It’s been so good having time to breathe again.’
‘Sounds amazing.’ And exactly what I’d come here for.
Amber finished her drink and stood up. ‘I’m conscious you have work to do, so let’s go to the farm now. We’ll go in my car and I’ll drop you off after as I’ve got a few errands to run.’
I grabbed my phone and jacket and followed Amber to her car.
‘Tell me more about your beeswax products,’ she said as we set off. ‘What did you make?’
‘It was a skincare range. I started off simple with lip balms and soap and moved on to face cream and body lotion, but there’s so much potential if you have enough bees, the right equipment, and enough time and space to make it all. I loved experimenting.’
‘What was your brand name?’
‘Honey Bee Hugs.’
‘Aw, that’s so cute. We’re about to convert one of the barns into a farm shop and that’s exactly the sort of product we’re hoping to stock. If you ever pick things up again, let me know. I couldn’t promise anything because we ideally want to source our stock locally, but if there’s nothing available locally then it’s not out of the question to consider products from further afield.’
My heart leapt and I felt a fizz of excitement. I’d love to resurrect Honey Bee Hugs. To have a farm shop in a beautiful area like this stock my products would be such a dream. But my heart sank because the reality was that it was exactly that – a dream. I couldn’t even think about it while Dad was ill and I was struggling to keep all those plates spinning.
‘I don’t know if I’ll pick it up again. I love it so much, but…’
‘But it’s difficult to think about while your dad’s ill?’ she suggested when I tailed off. ‘I can understand that. Here we are!’
She pulled off the main road by a white wooden sign with the name Bumblebee Barn on it and a round bumblebee on a lavender stem. The gently rising track was flanked by crops and then it dipped down to reveal the farmhouse and several outbuildings. A few hens were strutting across the farmyard and a grey and black tabby ran in front of the car and leapt onto the bonnet of a parked Land Rover.
‘That’s Radley,’ Amber said. ‘Pumpkin will be lurking nearby too. She’s a ginger tabby.’
‘Mary said you have a couple of Border collies too.’
‘Yes, Bear and Harley are out with Barney. We’ve got horses and ponies, Herdwick and Swaledale sheep, pigs, goats, hens, rabbits, guinea pigs and tortoises.’
‘That’s a lot of animals.’
‘The rabbits, guinea pigs and tortoises are fairly new – part of a petting farm experience which Barney’s mum runs with my best friend, Zara. It’s only open for school groups at the moment, but the hope is to expand it when the farm shop opens and we have more footfall.’
As I followed her into the farmhouse, pausing to give Radley a stroke on the way, I told her about visiting Saltersbeck Farm with Dad when I was young and how the hives were still kept there.
‘Funnily enough, Barney and I were talking about beehives the other day. Neither of us have our sights set on becoming beekeepers – more than enough here to keep us busy – but we have some space and wondered if a local beekeeper might like to put some hives on it. Assuming it’s suitable land, that is. Not sure what’s needed.’
‘I can take a look if you like – maybe one day later in the week if you have time.’
‘That would be great. Saves us messing anybody about if the land isn’t suitable. How about first thing tomorrow morning? I can show you the field, introduce you to Barney and give you a quick tour if you like.’
‘Name the time and I’ll be here.’
That night, I propped myself up in bed, gazing at the stunning dress Amber had not just loaned me for Saturday night but had actually given to me. I’d seen the designer label on it and protested that it was far too much, but she claimed it had been an impulse purchase which she’d never wear because the burnt-orange colour was too close a match to her hair and made her look wiped out. The lace-covered dress was one shouldered with a high leg slit and diamante detailing round the waist and had to be the most beautiful, elegant item of clothing I’d ever worn.
I felt a lot more comfortable about going to the wedding now that I’d spent time with Amber and would meet Barney in the morning. As I’d tried on dresses, she’d given me the lowdown on her wedding party. I’d done a double-take when she said she had eight bridesmaids. Imagine having that many family members and friends to ask. When I’d married Phil, my only bridesmaids had been Shauna and Jo – my best friends from school and university respectively – and neither of them were in my life anymore. Shauna had got together with Bertie at our wedding and, when their relationship ended badly a year later, she’d expected me to take her side and cut him out of my life. How was I supposed to do that when he was my long-term friend and my brother-in-law? So Shauna cut me out of her life instead. Without her friendship, Jo and I became even closer. We didn’t see much of each other as she lived in Portsmouth but we spoke regularly. She was the first person I called when Mum got her MND diagnosis and she was so supportive as I cried down the phone, promising me she’d be there for me every step of the way. But she wasn’t. She never returned my calls after that and eventually I stopped trying. Looking back, they’d both been very needy, expecting me to be there for them but not reciprocating that. True friendship had to be two-way – there for each other through the good times and the bad.
If I lived near Bumblebee Barn, I could imagine becoming friends with Amber and her being a proper friend. She was one of the most genuine people I’d ever met. I could imagine being the Bumblebee Barn beekeeper and spending my days making Honey Bee Hugs products. But I didn’t live locally. My life was in Gloucestershire near Dad and to wish it was anything different was to wish for the one heartbreaking event which I knew was coming but was already dreading.