Chapter 2
Dad’s question hung in the air for a few moments. I could see in his eyes he was finding this idea as hard as I was but it looked like the fight had been sucked out of him. I hated to see that.
‘What if I come up with an idea to help?’ I blurted out in desperation.
‘What do you mean?’
‘An idea that will turn things around, something that will make us more money at this time of year, a way to clear our debts and fix things up around here,’ I said, thinking about the long list of things that needed repairing.
The problem was our farm did okay in spring and summer when the pick-your-own season was in full swing and people came from the town and surrounding areas for our fruit and veg, but there wasn’t enough to offer as we moved into autumn and winter to encourage people to make the trip out to the farm.
So, for the rest of the year, we had pretty much no income.
Yet the bills never stopped.
‘Is that even possible, love?’ Dad said, gently. ‘We need to face facts and I think we should at least meet with Henderson Homes to find out what our options are.’
‘You won’t give me a chance to think of something?’
Dad sighed. ‘You can try but I’m going to ring them tomorrow morning and arrange for someone to come to the farm. I don’t see any other option at this point.’
I stood up, scraping my chair back noisily on the stone tiles that lined the kitchen floor.
‘This is crazy. What would Mum have said about this?’ I questioned, knowing it was a low blow but I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth.
I instantly regretted them when my dad looked crestfallen.
I felt deflated and claustrophobic. I needed to get out of here.
‘Willow…’
‘I need to go for a walk and think,’ I said, cutting him off.
‘I’ll see you later.’ I whistled for my dog and left the kitchen, torn between anger at Dad, sadness at the thought of what my mum would think about how things were going, and determination to do something that could save our beloved farm.
Maple, my Border Collie, trotted after me loyally as I walked out of the farmhouse and exhaled shakily once I hit the fresh air.
Birch Tree Farm was over three hundred acres in size.
When you drove through the gate, you went up the sweeping drive lined by birch trees to our farmhouse – a low, long building, red-bricked.
And then behind the farmhouse were acres of land that stretched out as far as the eye could see, separated into fields of different fruit and vegetables and then on the other side were our polytunnels, bigger and more cost-efficient than greenhouses, that kept our crops sheltered and warm, and to the side of the house was where we kept our chickens.
We had thought we could make some extra money selling eggs but the profit margin was so low, it hadn’t worked.
Still, it meant we had free eggs to reduce some of our food bill.
I walked that way, with Maple close to my heels keeping an eye on everything like she always did.
It was a cool morning, watery sunshine peeping through the clouds, and I was glad I had on my beaten but still hardy Barbour coat, inherited from my mum, along with wellies and a thick jumper and leggings. My long hair was in its usual messy bun.
My eyes drank in the farm. At this time of year, there were no visitors and no seasonal workers so I had the space to myself.
This I was used to but occasionally, I did feel a pang of loneliness.
Maybe I was feeling slightly sentimental about my upcoming birthday, knowing I didn’t have anyone special to celebrate it with.
But today, it ran deeper than that. I missed my mum.
She would have known what to do. I had no idea how to change my dad’s mind about meeting Henderson Homes, and what if they made us a really good offer?
Could we realistically turn it down? But then I would have to leave the place I loved most in the world.
‘Oh, Maple, I wish there was a way to make money around here before spring comes around,’ I said, as we walked towards the field behind the chickens, which was empty of any crops.
It didn’t have the best soil or light so we usually kept it empty and sometimes in peak summer sold ice creams from it.
Today, Maple ran across it joyfully as I tried to walk off my melancholy.
I stared out at the land and willed a good idea to come to me but I was feeling too sorry for myself to think clearly.
I pulled out my phone to message my best friend Sabrina.
I’m in need of girl talk ASAP please.
Sabrina replied within a minute, as I was following Maple across the field.
I have it on good authority that Birchbrook Café will have their seasonal food and drinks in from tomorrow.
Sabrina’s reply made me smile. We loved the café in our hometown and met there frequently in autumn and winter for a hot drink and sweet treat.
Just what the doctor ordered! When can you meet me?
As I waited to see when she’d be free for a chat, I turned to look back at the farmhouse.
I saw Dad walking outside and round to one of the crop polytunnels.
He walked slowly now, ever so slightly stooped, and I could often see him wince, early in the morning or late at night when his joints ached.
It pained me to see it. I also hated to see him so worried.
I knew he was right that we couldn’t carry on how we were for much longer.
I was just at a loss to know what we could do.
I didn’t want to entertain the idea of selling, especially not to Henderson Homes.
Maple came up to me and sat down, leaning against my legs, following my gaze.
‘Well, Maple, get your thinking cap on; we have to find a solution so we can stay here. Because we love this farm, don’t we?’ I reached down to run my fingers through her fur, something which always made me feel better.
Maple gave a small bark, which I took to mean she agreed.
‘God, I’ve been single for too long,’ I muttered, shaking my head for thinking I was having an actual conversation with my dog.
She was very clever so you never knew. ‘Come on, Maple, let’s get our chores done so we can watch a Sunday movie on the sofa in front of the fire,’ I said, setting off for the chickens.
My phone beeped with a response from Sabrina who told me to meet her in the café on Tuesday morning as her mother was looking after Dottie, her baby. I really hoped Sabrina might help me come up with an idea because the clock was definitely ticking.