Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
J ohan
There’s only one way to relieve the crushing sensation I feel in my chest when I wake each morning—running. The overwhelming pain threatens to engulf me. I’ve been in the dark places and the only way I’ve found to cure it is movement. I say I’m over Erik, but it’s easier said than done. Up until three months ago, I thought I knew where my life was going, I thought I was happy and had my future planned out. But maybe I was complacent and hadn’t paid attention. Or maybe Erik was just the wrong person for me. But whatever, I can’t go back to that and I never want to feel this way again, ever. After a couple of miles, the knot in my chest is easing and I start to notice my surroundings. I leave the main road and take a path through the woods. The leaves are starting to fall and the colours are amazing. Some still cling to their summer green for as long as possible, others are turning yellow, orange and brown. Those which have already fallen form a carpet under my feet. The footpath crosses a wide track and I follow this instead. Rounding a corner, I come across a cabin, a jeep parked outside.
I’m probably trespassing, so I turn around to head back down the track to find the footpath again.
“Hey Johan!”
I swing back around and see Harlen heading down the steps to the cabin.
“Hi! Sorry, I was just out for a run. I didn’t realise there was a cabin up here.”
“No problem,” he says and then tilts a shoulder back and gestures towards the cabin behind him with a thumb. “You want a drink? Coffee? Tea?”
“Yes, that'd be great thanks. Could I have water as well please?”
He smiles. “Yes, of course, come on in.”
The cabin is surprisingly spacious, considering how small it looks from the outside. It’s mostly a single living space with a central wood fire. One side is a seating area, the other a dining area and a kitchen space. A wooden staircase leads up to a mezzanine floor, which I assume is a sleeping area. It isn’t dark like I would’ve thought, even though there’s as much wood inside as there is out. There are also plenty of soft furnishings, rugs, throws and cushions.
Harlen heads to the sink and fills a glass of water for me, which I gratefully drink, before he heads to the coffee machine.
“Thanks.” I place the glass down on the kitchen island that separates the area from the rest of the space.
“This place is amazing.” I’m still looking round at how everything looks handmade. “Did you make it?”
“Yeah, all from scratch.” He places a mug down for me.
Wow, I’m impressed and tell him so.
“Thanks, I needed something to do.” A darkness crosses his face; it’s a look I recognise, though his looks ancient and like it has never truly been conquered.
He seems distant, like his mind is pulled elsewhere. I don’t want to intrude, so take my coffee and wander over to look at some pictures on the wall. There are a few landscapes and woodland scenes. On another wall are some smaller pieces, sketches really, barely even that. A quick glance and they would look fairly abstract, but the longer I look at them, I realise they’re pictures of men, and in fairly erotic poses. They’re exquisite. I sense Harlen approaching and give him a glance. His previous look is gone and there’s a light in his eye when he sees what I’m stood in front of.
“You’ve found the good stuff then,” he says as he comes to stand next to me.
“They’re—” I stop because I don’t have the words, but Harlen seems to understand.
“Yeah, I know.” He blows out a breath. “I’ve had them for a few years now, I bought them from a London gallery. I didn’t know it then, but the artist is local.”
“Local? Are they by Luca Winterton?” I give Harlen a glance to see if I’m right.
“The very same.” Harlen chuckles lightly. I turn back to examine them in more detail.
“Jeez, that guy has some talent. Does he know you have them?”
Harlen shrugs, “I don’t know, I’ve never mentioned them, I just liked them.”
“I can see why.”
Harlen sees I’ve finished my coffee and holds out his hand for the mug.
“Thanks for the coffee. I ought to be going,” I say.
“No rush, but I’m heading out myself in a little while, I can give you a lift to the village if you want.”
“It’s fine. I’ll run back, but thanks for the offer.” I head to the door.
“If you’re ever running this way again and the jeep is here, I’ll be around somewhere and you’re always welcome for a coffee.”
I thank him and head off down the track again. I’d enjoyed talking again with Harlen.
Over the next few days, I still run every day. The ache in my chest is clearing a little quicker each day. I’m not sure if it’s the running, or the distance I have between now and my old life, or the people of Larchdown. I’ve met a few more of them as I’ve helped Ben and Keith in the shop. I’ve also run a few more times up to Harlen’s cabin. Each time sharing a coffee and a chat.
One day, about a week after I came to Larchdown, I’m running back from Harlen’s to the village. When I emerge from the footpath in the woods onto the main road, I notice a Land Rover and trailer pulled over to the side. It must have shed its load as there are bales of hay strewn everywhere. As I get closer I notice that it’s Tom Walker. He’s picking up the bales and putting them back on the trailer.
“Hi, can I give you a hand?” He looks up, startled as he must not have heard me approach, although it’s quickly replaced by a look of relief.
“If you could, it would be helpful, thanks.” I start picking up the bales and stacking them back on the trailer.
“The rope must have broken. I usually check it but I was in a rush this morning,” he grimaces. “Of course I’m even later now.” All the bales have been reloaded and are no longer blocking the road. Tom sets about retying the ropes holding them on. He looks flustered.
“Do you need a hand unloading them?” I offer. I’m not doing anything and I quite enjoyed the exercise. There isn’t a gym in Larchdown and whilst Ben says I can use his car anytime, I don’t like to. Hefting bales is a good arm and core workout, something that doesn’t get much training when I’m just running. He smiles and nods.
“If you can spare the time, I’d appreciate it. I’m really behind, and I have three more loads to take out today.”
As he drives, he explains that whilst the farm is mostly arable—growing oats, barley and rapeseed—they also grow a lot of hay, which they sell to local horse owners. He also describes how the farm is organic, which means they don’t use pesticides, but there are also vigorous checks that have to be made, so they often have inspections. They’re due a visit the next day, which is why Tom is trying to fit in all the week’s hay deliveries.
After about twenty minutes of driving, we arrive at a stable yard where Tom pulls up next to the stables. A girl in her late teens emerges from one of the stables, bolting it behind her, and I see a horse’s head appear over the door a second later.
“Thanks Tom. I’ll go and tell Mum you’re here.” She flashes us both a smile and disappears off towards the house. Tom starts untying the ropes and tells me to throw down the bales whilst he stacks them into a nearby stable, which is nearly full by the time we finish. This is when a lady, and the girl we saw earlier, appear. She hands Tom an envelope and they agree on a day the following month, then we’re back on the road.
“You have to go back again?” I ask.
“Most people don’t have huge barns or storage for hay, so we have to deliver regularly. We’re busier at this time of year and right the way through to spring as the grass stops growing, so most people are feeding their horses hay.”
As we reach the village Tom offers to drop me off at the bakery, but I have another idea.
“Look, I enjoyed helping out. If you have some more deliveries to do today, I’m happy to help.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“I’m sure. I’d like to.”
“Well, I’d love some help so, thank you.”
We head back to the farm to load up another trailer full of hay, this time taking it in a different direction. The next time we’re back at the farm to load up, I see Cole is in a paddock with one of the horses. There are a few cones and obstacles arranged round the area and Cole is walking through them, the horse right by his side, even though he has no halter or ropes. I’m transfixed and stand for a minute watching them. It’s almost like a dance. I also notice how different Cole looks. I thought he was adorable in the pub on the night I arrived, but mostly then he was scowling. Here he looks relaxed, his face softer and, I admit to myself, fucking gorgeous. I’m disturbed in my reverie by Tom chuckling. He’s caught me watching.
“That’s amazing,” I say, still not able to take my eyes off him. “How does he do that?”
“He’s always been like that,” Tom replies. “He explained it to me once but I didn’t get it.”
I watch as he stops and the horse halts beside him. He gives it a caress and starts to walk towards the gate. The horse continues to follow him and I see him grin. I force myself to look away and help load more bales. That initial attraction to someone is a dangerous path to start, especially with my no dating rule, and if what Megan said was true then I wouldn’t get far anyway. Better to leave well alone. Though Erik hasn’t been in my thoughts for the last few minutes, which is at least a positive sign, I don’t need to swap his betrayal for more trouble.
We’re soon on our way with the next load of hay to deliver. On the way back we’re again heading towards the village and my stomach rumbles. We’ve been so busy I’d forgotten about lunch.
“So sorry. We’ll stop for some lunch when we get back, I’d forgotten all about it.” Tom looks apologetic.
“How about we swing by the bakery and I grab us something, then we don’t have to stop?”
“Okay.” Tom grins and pulls over. I’m back in a few minutes with bags of pasties and sausage rolls. We make short work of them as we drive back to the farm for the final trip.
As we head out for the last delivery of the day Tom says, “Thanks for today, I don’t think I could have caught up without your help.”
“I enjoyed myself, and I got to see a bit more of the countryside. I’m happy to help.”
Tom pauses for a minute as if thinking, then he blows out a breath. “I don’t know what your plans are but if you ever need something to do, I could really do with some help. Dad’s slowing down a bit now and I don’t like to see him working himself too hard.”
My plan is to stay with Ben for a month, a week of which has already gone. The thought of a job and staying longer does appeal, but I know it’s not that simple anymore.
“I’d love to, but I’m pretty sure I’d need a work visa now. Things are a whole lot more complicated nowadays.” I knew I didn’t need to explain to Tom why this was so. The UK leaving the EU was probably already causing enough problems for Tom.
His face fell a bit as he answered. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t my vote, for what it’s worth. But I’m serious, if that’s what it takes, I’m sure we can sort it out. That’s if you want to of course, no pressure.
It is something I’m interested in. I’ve already been finding the little there is to do in Larchdown a problem for keeping my mind and body busy. I’d love to spend more time with Ben, but he has enough to do with the bakery.
“I’d like to help, but I’d only planned to stay a few weeks. I’ll need to see if I can sort some things out with work first.”
“That would be great, thanks. But how about you come to dinner as a thank you for today? Sunday dinner at the farm, we always have it as a family, and bring Ben and Keith as well.”
“Are you sure?” I don’t want to put them out.
“Are you kidding? My mum would love to have a few more mouths to feed.”
After the last delivery, he drops me off at the bakery. I’m looking forward to a shower as it’s been hours since I headed out for a run this morning. But the first thing I’m going to do when I’m cleaned up is look at applying for work visas.