Chapter Twenty-Two
Will
The closer we got to the start of lambing season, the more I felt my stress levels rising.
No matter how many years passed, I always felt the same because no matter how much preparation I did, it was easy for something to go wrong at a moment’s notice.
The ewes were notoriously bad at asking for help when they were in trouble, and it meant Higgs and I had to watch every flock like a hawk to spot the signs of a ewe in distress.
It meant long hours of constant vigilance in the freezing cold because, although we lambed in March, the icy grip of winter had only just started to abate.
The earlier snow had finally melted, but I wasn’t convinced we weren’t going to wake up one morning to another two foot of it on the ground. Sod’s law said it would be the day the first ewes went into labour.
We had several flocks of sheep spread out across the farm, although we’d recently ensured that the flocks of pregnant ewes were all close to each other simply to make it easier for me and Higgs to get between them.
I’d learnt that lesson the hard way the first year I’d taken over from Dad and we’d ended up with one flock several miles away from the others. Higgs and I had endured a nightmarish few weeks trying to keep an eye on everything.
That morning, Higgs, Jamie, and I had finished setting up the lambing barn for any ewes that needed to come in or any orphan lambs that needed to be hand-reared. Sometimes, if the orphans were very small, we often brought them into the farmhouse kitchen for a few days to get them warm and fed.
Usually, Mum would be on hand then, and she’d potter round the kitchen hand-feeding them from bottles, talking to them, and making sure they didn’t totally destroy the house once they’d worked out how to climb out of the large cardboard boxes we often kept them in to start with.
“Will? Are you in?” Mum’s voice sounded from the kitchen, and I looked up from my laptop in my tiny office off the side of the kitchen, where I’d been poring over an order for lamb colostrum and milk replacer.
“Yeah, in here,” I said. I heard her footsteps, and she appeared at the door, looking me up and down with her customary warm, searching expression.
She was wearing one of her own knitted jumpers, and her face was flushed from the cold.
She’d obviously left her coat in the kitchen, and her short, grey hair was sticking out at odd angles where it had been stuffed under her hat.
“You look tired, love,” she said.
“It’s nearly lambing season.”
“Then you should be making sure you get some sleep.”
“I am. It’s just stress. I’ll be fine when we start.”
“Don’t lie to me, William,” she said, giving me a knowing smile. “You’ll be worse.”
I just hummed because I wasn’t about to deny it to her face. I’d never hear the end of it. Instead, I just asked, “You all right, then?”
“Grand, just grand. I brought you and Jamie another lemon cake. It’s just in the kitchen.”
“Cheers,” I said, casting my eye back to the screen. I’d come back to it later. As long as I got it ordered today, I’d be fine. “Do you fancy a cuppa?”
I followed Mum back into the kitchen, catching sight of the enormous lemon loaf cake sitting on the kitchen counter next to an old, green plastic bag.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked as I grabbed the kettle and filled it up, making sure there was enough for Jamie when he got back from his expedition to Tesco.
He’d volunteered to go by himself, armed with a detailed list, and so far, I hadn’t received any frantic, grumpy phone calls about not being able to find things or asking about substitutions.
“It’s a present for Jamie,” Mum said as she leant against the counter. “Where is he anyway? I noticed his car’s gone.”
“Tesco. He offered to go and do the shopping so I could stay here and get a bit of admin done.”
“Bless him. That was sweet.” Mum smiled approvingly, reaching out to scratch Mog, who’d made a rare appearance in the kitchen. Mum was about the only person Mog would move for in the winter, knowing that she’d get absolutely spoilt rotten for doing so. “Is he staying for lambing?”
“I think so,” I said vaguely, wondering if the sole purpose of Mum’s visit had been to be nosy. She’d met Jamie in passing a couple weeks ago, and ever since she only seemed to drop by the house when the pair of us were around. It was starting to get suspicious.
I hadn’t told her we were dating, but my guess was she already knew and was waiting for me to confess. The present for Jamie was probably a way to try and force my hand, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
Jamie and I were still figuring things out.
He’d slipped into my life like he belonged there, but I had this nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.
The past few weeks had been too easy, and nothing in life was like that.
I was just waiting for the bubble to burst, and I didn’t want to have to deal with everyone’s sympathy when it did.
Maybe it was cynical, but I was struggling to believe that someone like Jamie would want to give up his whole life for someone like me.
I was always busy and stressed, and I always put the farm first. I had no money and no prospects. My life wasn’t glamorous, and it never would be. I couldn’t give Jamie posh holidays or meals out or fancy clothes. All I could give him was me, and I didn’t think that would be enough.
It never had been in the past.
“I hope he is,” Mum said, rubbing Mog behind the ears. “He’s good for you.”
“Oh, aye?” I reached into the cupboard to pull out a couple of mugs, hoping that if I kept my answer vague I could get away without having this conversation.
“He is. I know he’s not the farming type, but he seems to be taking to it well, and he keeps you on your toes. He stops you getting so wrapped up in everything.”
I grunted because I didn’t know what to say to that.
Jamie had taken to farming well. Better than I’d ever expected considering he admitted to never having seen a sheep up close until I’d taken him out that first morning he stayed over.
I’d expected him to get bored by now, but he hadn’t, and that confused me.
It had, by his own admission, confused Jamie too, and it felt like the two of us were just wandering around in the dark trying to make sense of our feelings.
“He’s a good one,” Mum continued. “You’ll see.”
“Yeah…” I was saved from having to answer any more questions by the sight of Jamie’s tiny hire car pulling in next to the Land Rover. “Speak of the devil. Looks like he survived Tesco.”
“Go and give him a hand. I’ll finish the tea.”
“Cheers,” I said, walking over to slide my boots on. “Jamie’ll want coffee, though. There’s some in the cupboard. Two teaspoons of coffee, milk, and two sugars.”
Jamie had muttered darkly about going back to London just to get his coffee machine the first time I’d introduced him to instant coffee, and I was surprised he hadn’t made good on that threat yet.
“Hey,” I said as I stepped out of the house. “How’d you get on?”
“I survived!” Jamie said proudly, his head popping up from the other side of the car. “I didn’t get lost, I found everything on the list, and I didn’t go overboard with extras either.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I feel like an actual adult, which is absurd to be honest, but I suppose everyone has to go shopping for the first time at some point.”
“You’ve done it before, though,” I said as we walked around to the back of the car.
“I know, but this time felt like I’d actually got it right,” Jamie said as he popped the boot open.
I glanced around. From there we were not quite visible from the kitchen window because the Land Rover was in the way.
I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him towards me to steal a quick kiss.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you did it. And you didn’t bring back mountains of sweets this time.”
He laughed against my lips, the sound filling me with joy. “Fuck you, I like sweets.”
“It was like the manifestation of every five-year-old’s dream,” I said before I kissed him again. “I’ll have to take you down to the old sweet shop in town at some point. I’m not sure I’ll get you out again, though.”
“Not until I’ve bought some of everything anyway,” Jamie said, giving me one last kiss before we broke apart and he went to retrieve some of the bags. “How’s your morning been? Did you get the ordering done?”
“Nearly. Mum’s here, so I haven’t finished yet. She’s brought another lemon cake and a present for you.”
“Oooh! I love your mum.”
“Am I going to get any cake this time?” I asked as Jamie handed me some of the bags. Jamie shrugged and laughed.
“You got exactly the same amount as me last time. You’re just used to having it to yourself, which makes it last longer.”
“I’m sure your pieces were bigger than mine,” I teased.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll find something to bribe you with so I get all the cake. What’s my present?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“Hurry up, then,” Jamie said as we staggered towards the door, both laden down with shopping. “I want to see.”
We carried the bags in and dumped them on the floor. Mum was just pouring milk into one of the mugs, and she beamed at Jamie as soon as she saw him.
“Hello, love. How was Tesco?”
“Not too bad. I managed not to buy half the confectionery aisle this time, and I got everything off the list.”
I watched the two of them chat as I started to unpack, fishing Mog out of one of the bags where she’d tried to find the pouches of cat food.
It was clear Mum loved Jamie, but it was also clear he liked her too.
I didn’t know much about his relationship with his parents, and he’d only mentioned his dad offhand or in relation to his accountant.
I wasn’t going to push the subject, but it was easy to assume they weren’t close.
I wondered if Mum had sensed that too because she seemed to have taken Jamie under her wing like a lost duckling, happily bringing him cake, talking him through the basics of the farming year while she showed him how to clean the kitchen, and writing him step-by-step instructions on how to make roast potatoes.
And Jamie seemed to have absorbed every word.
He’d made her laugh too, regaling her with stories from wild nights in London that sounded too outrageous to be real.
Sometimes when he talked about those nights, it was almost with a note of fond nostalgia, and it made me wonder just how much he missed it. He’d said he didn’t want to go back, but I wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t wake up one morning and realise just how relentless this life was.
Maybe if he stayed for lambing season I’d be convinced. Then again, he might get to the end and realise just how much he hated it.
Either way, I’d have an answer.
“If you grab that bag,” Mum said as she handed Jamie a mug of coffee and a plate with an enormous slab of lemon cake, “you’ll find a little something just for you.”
I stopped what I was doing, a tin of chopped tomatoes still in hand, as I watched Jamie cross the kitchen and swap the coffee and cake for the plastic bag.
It was obvious it wasn’t heavy, but I still had no clue what it was.
Jamie frowned curiously as he reached inside it, then gasped as he pulled out something dark blue and soft looking.
“Is this…” he looked at my mum in shock and awe.
“I hope it fits,” she said. “I saw you wearing that one of Will’s I made him a couple of years ago and thought you best have one of your own.”
Jamie unfolded the knitted jumper and stared, his thumb tracing across the collar. It was the same simple design as mine, but the wool was deep navy with speckles of colour instead of green. “It’s… it’s perfect. Thank you.”
He strode across and pulled Mum into a hug, and it made my heart clench with joy and pain because surely this couldn’t last.
“Bless you, love,” Mum said. “It’s just a jumper.”
“No, it’s really not,” he said softly. “I don’t think anyone’s ever made anything for me before.”
“Well, if you like it, I can make you another. You’ll just have to let me know what colour.”
“What do you think?” Jamie asked, holding it up to show me and grinning like a kid at Christmas. He was so fucking gorgeous like this, happy and carefree, I wanted to hold on to this moment forever and pretend my worries didn’t exist.
“Proper grand,” I said. “I can have mine back now.”
“But I like it. It’s comfortable.”
I rolled my eyes, but it didn’t stop me from smiling. “First my jumper, then my cake, next you’ll be stealing the bloody dogs.”
“I mean, Nell licked my hand this morning, so it’s only a matter of time.”
“That’s bloody typical,” I said, trying to feign annoyance and failing miserably. Jamie laughed, the sound filling me with the same happiness I felt when I walked the moors in the spring, when the world was beautiful and new and full of life.
Jamie could steal whatever he wanted from me, and it wouldn’t matter because he’d already stolen my heart. And I knew I’d never get it back.