Chapter 10
That evening, I walked into the Birchbrook Arms, the local pub, in desperate need of a drink.
After Dylan left the farm to pick up whatever he’d need for his stay, I completed my chores and then Dad and I had leftovers for dinner.
Dad settled down with a puzzle, Maple lying down nearby to enjoy the log fire we had lit as the night drew in chilly, but I couldn’t relax – I kept looking out of the window and listening for the sounds of the car on the driveway.
I was torn between wanting to know exactly when Dylan came back to the farm to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind about our pact, and not wanting to be sitting around waiting for him.
So, in the end, I said I’d nip out for a drink and then hopefully, I’d be back just to see Dylan’s car and him safely in the cottage.
Birchbrook Arms was on the edge of town and was incredibly old with low ceilings and wooden beams, and roaring fires in autumn and winter.
I opened the door and recognised all the people inside.
I liked that. It was comforting, and right now, when things were in such turmoil, I clung to the familiarity of my hometown more than ever.
I waved at the landlord, Johnny, who had run the pub for as long as I was old enough to drink, and he walked over to my end of the bar.
‘You got all the town talking today, Willow,’ he said as he grabbed a wine glass, not needing to ask me what I wanted – my drink of choice had been long fixed. ‘Sending some city boy away from your farm or something.’
I sighed. Of course, everyone had talked about what happened in the café earlier.
Had that really been the same day? It felt like a week ago.
I leaned against the bar, glad it could take my weight.
I felt weary to my bones. I noticed a few other people listening in on us as well.
‘Yeah, he wants to make an offer to buy our farm and bulldoze it all into new-build homes,’ I said as Johnny slid a glass of wine across the shiny wood to me.
I tapped my card on the machine and took a sip.
‘I really don’t want to have to sell. I was putting off the meeting but, of course, he turned up in the end anyway. ’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘It wouldn’t be the same without your fruit and veg in summer,’ a woman sitting said behind me. I glanced over at her and smiled. She ran the florist’s in the High Street.
‘That’s what the problem is – we’re okay in summer, but less so the rest of the year. So, when I was in the High Street today, I thought maybe I could do what the town does and create something autumnally themed on the farm.’
‘Like what?’
I looked over and saw the question had come from Paul from the café who was sitting with a couple of his friends, beers lined up in front of them.
My conversation with Johnny had drawn the attention of everyone within earshot but I wasn’t surprised – Birchbrook was a nosy town, although I knew they all meant well.
‘Well, we all love pumpkins and as our pick-your-own does so well in summer, I thought I’d make a pumpkin patch,’ I said, beaming at everyone listening. There was silence and a few people looked at one another then back at me.
‘You want to sell pumpkins? How will that save the farm?’ Paul asked, confused.
‘We wouldn’t just sell pumpkins; it would be like a whole autumnal experience: a day out for families like when you come to the farm in summer.
It will be… fun,’ I said, finishing a little bit lamely as no one seemed to be into this idea.
I gulped down more of my wine. ‘The High Street is always decorated for autumn. You have an autumnal menu,’ I pointed out to Paul.
‘Maybe you could sell some food and drink at the patch; I’ll come in and speak to your parents. ’
‘We’d need to be sure there would be enough customers to make it worthwhile leaving the café, though,’ Paul said, looking less than thrilled but then he was often moody.
‘Hang on,’ Johnny said. ‘You don’t grow pumpkins, do you?’
‘Not yet. I’d have to buy them in for this year,’ I admitted.
‘How will you make a profit by doing that?’ Paul called over.
My heart sank. I supposed I hadn’t actually run any figures.
I could just picture the patch in my mind and I knew I could make it a place people would want to come and visit.
That had made me think I could make money out of it.
But now everyone seemed to be pouring cold water on the idea, just like my dad and Sabrina earlier in the café. Why couldn’t anyone see my vision?
Before I could respond, the pub door swung open and everyone turned from me to the door.
I looked as well and my evening got a little bit worse.
Dylan strode in, seemingly oblivious to everyone staring at his entrance, and walked up to the bar.
He had at least ditched the suit and was now wearing dark jeans and a dark shirt, although he still had shiny shoes on.
‘Isn’t that the guy from the café?’ Paul asked, his voice carrying over to the bar.
Dylan turned then he saw me. ‘Your dad suggested I come for a drink and some food,’ he said, looking surprised to see me. I assumed Dad had failed to mention I’d be here.
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Anyway…’ I raised my glass to everyone then slid off to a free table in the corner near to the crackling log fire.
I was going to drink my wine away from annoying questions.
My head was starting to pound with things to think about and I was fed up with everyone making me feel like I was crazy to even try to make this pumpkin patch happen.
I sat down and stared at my wine glass on the table dully.
I was now regretting coming out. I should have stayed home and not told anyone about my idea.
‘Do you mind?’
I looked up to see Dylan hovering by my table with a beer and a glass of wine.
‘I hate drinking alone,’ he added. ‘I got you another glass…’
Staring at it, I was torn. This didn’t feel like a good idea at all. Our conversation earlier hadn’t exactly been polite and calm. We might have to work together for the next few weeks but I was at as loss about what we would find to talk about in the pub.
‘Come on, Willow, we have to coexist for six weeks…’
I sighed, again regretting my impulsive proposal. ‘Go ahead,’ I said. ‘This evening can’t get much worse.’
Dylan sat down and slid my wine over to me then took a sip of his beer. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I was telling everyone about the pumpkin-patch idea when you came in, and everyone seems to think it’s a bit mad. Asking me about how profitable it will be. I haven’t exactly worked out the details yet but that doesn’t mean it can’t work. No one has any imagination around here,’ I grumbled.
‘Imagination is great,’ Dylan said. ‘But you do need a plan so you can make a profit. Otherwise you might as well accept my offer right here, right now.’
I started to glare but he smiled and his eyes twinkled in the light from the fire. Was he teasing me a little bit? I was so stunned, I couldn’t respond for a moment. I decided to turn the tables. ‘So, what did your brother say when you told him you were going to stay on our farm?’
‘It was along the lines of people here,’ Dylan said. ‘Wondering what on earth I was thinking. But I told Nate I’d do my usual work so there wasn’t a lot he could say. I often work from home or remotely anyway, and this would be a great addition to our portfolio so it’s worth the effort.’
‘How come you haven’t worked with him for long?’ I asked, curious as to why it hadn’t always been a family business.
Dylan gulped down his beer. ‘I studied law at university, I thought I wanted to be a barrister, well, I guess my family pushed me in that direction… my brother is eight years older than me and after we lost our mother, he kind of took on responsibility for me along with our dad.’
I stared at him. ‘I lost my mother too.’
‘I gathered from what you told me at the farm,’ he replied gently.
‘I hated university. I hated my course, I couldn’t focus, it was so soon after my mum died, and I was grieving but I also had so much pressure from my brother and my dad.
God, is this being too honest?’ he asked, suddenly stopping as if realising he was blurting out deep shit to a stranger.
‘Oh no, I am used to spilling my secrets; I want to hear it all,’ I encouraged him.
My dad often said I talked too much for my own good so I was pleased to meet someone else with the same tendency.
I smiled. ‘Sometimes, it’s good to just let it all out, right? So, university went badly?’ I prompted.
‘That’s an understatement. I ended up leaving. And since then, I guess, I’ve been a bit unsure what to do. I’ve had quite a few jobs and moved around and my brother has kept on at me to work for him. This year, I gave in and said yes. So that’s why I want to do well at this job.’
I nodded, understanding his determination to do well and why he wanted to make our deal happen.
He wanted his brother’s approval. I knew the feeling.
I hated letting my father down. And Dylan felt like he had been doing that for years.
‘I guess our crazy pact makes more sense now. I lost my mother and since then, the farm just seems to have declined and we’ve struggled.
I hate the thought that I’m disappointing her.
’ I tilted my head to the side. ‘She loved autumn. It was her favourite time of year, and she passed that love onto me. I want to make her proud, just like you want to make your family proud.’
He smiled across the table at me, holding eye contact.
It was a weirdly nice feeling to connect with someone new like that.
I was used to being around people I’d known forever.
They all knew about my mother and rarely spoke about her, and I was sure that was because they didn’t want to upset me but sometimes, I wanted to talk about her.
Dylan was listening. And maybe that was making me be more honest than I probably should be.
Particularly when we were on opposing sides.
‘I get why you’re determined to save the farm and why you want to make this pumpkin patch now,’ Dylan said. ‘And now you know why I want to get you to accept my offer to buy the farm.’
I finished my first glass of wine and started on the one Dylan had bought me. ‘We know why we are doing this then. But there’s a long way to go to get the other one to agree to the same point of view.’
Dylan shrugged. ‘We have six weeks, right?’
‘Despite the fact our families think this is completely mad, plus the whole town will be talking about it, I have no doubt. And neither of us have an actual plan of how we’re going to win our pact.’ I couldn’t help but smile though because suddenly, I didn’t feel quite so alone.
Dylan smiled back and then his food order arrived so our conversation paused and I was a little bit relieved it had. Opening up to Dylan might turn out to be dangerous.