Chapter 35
Paul drove us back to the farm in the Birchbrook Café van and kept quiet, thankfully.
Sabrina threw me worried looks but I stared out of the window, not up to chatting to her or Pat.
It felt like I had been running on adrenaline ever since Dad showed me the letter from Henderson Homes, desperate to save the farm, and I’d thrown myself into it, but now all the energy and enthusiasm had been sucked out of me.
It felt like there was no point in trying any more.
It seemed like I’d already lost the farm.
As well as Dylan. Although I knew I hadn’t really had him to begin with.
He’d been playing me all along. I just hoped Dad and I could find someone, anyone else really, to sell to.
I didn’t want Dylan to have Birch Tree Farm.
And I sure as hell didn’t want his brother to get his grubby hands on it.
We passed through the gate then and I saw Dad was in the pumpkin-patch field.
Dad was pushing the wheelbarrow and I felt guilty for having left him here with all the mess.
He shouldn’t be trying to clear it up by himself.
He stopped to look at the van, smiling when he saw me climb out even though I knew I didn’t deserve it.
‘There you are,’ Dad said as Maple galloped over to see him and he waved at Pat, Sabrina and Paul who followed me over to the field. He peered at my face and saw that I’d been crying. ‘Oh, love.’ He slung an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.
‘Don’t, Dad, I don’t deserve it,’ I said, shaking my head at his affection.
‘This wasn’t your fault.’
‘I should have checked on everything. I could have secured the coverings. I might have seen the tree was close to falling down too. I should have kept on checking… but I fell asleep.’
‘With Dylan,’ Dad said softly before the others joined us. It wasn’t a question. He knew we’d been together. I nodded miserably. ‘He took off in his car. I’ve never seen a man look quite so broken.’
‘That tree is a nightmare in itself,’ Paul said without preamble as the three of them stood beside us and surveyed the damage. ‘Gonna be a big clear-up job.’
‘But doable,’ Pat said, giving her son a stern look.
He just shrugged.
‘And we can patch up the tunnel, right?’
‘With all of us working, we can clear that tree by the end of the day, I bet,’ Sabrina said, her hands on her hips as she stared at it.
‘What about the pumpkins? They are likely ruined,’ I said with a sigh.
‘Let’s move them into the barn to dry out. You could contact the farmer you got them from, see if he can come up with any ideas to save them,’ Dad said. ‘There are two broken crates, but we don’t need them. And your sign, Sabrina…’
‘I can easily make a new one,’ she said eagerly.
A noise behind us then caught our attention. A large lorry started coming down the drive.
‘The rest of the pumpkins,’ I wailed. ‘But the tunnel is damaged and I haven’t checked on my planter tables, and it looks like more rain is on the way,’ I added, glancing up at the greying sky.
‘We’ll get them to put them into the barn for now,’ Dad said quickly.
‘Let’s get started; who else can we call to help?’ Pat asked, rubbing her hands together, ready for action.
‘Wait,’ I said as they all started to head off to work.
They paused.
‘I can’t ask you to do this. We’ll have to work all weekend to try to fix this all if there is any hope of opening on Monday. And even if we can get it looking perfect – is there any point? We’ve only sold ten tickets so far!’
‘One step at a time – let’s try and clear the damage first then we can work on getting people here,’ Dad told me calmly. He could tell I was still freaking out. ‘Right now, there is no pumpkin patch for anyone to enjoy.’
‘We want to help,’ Sabrina said, nodding along to what Dad had said. ‘I grew up on this farm too; we have to fight to keep it. You’re my family.’
My eyes started to well up. ‘If you’re sure…’
Pat gave a firm nod. ‘My husband is fine in the café on his own. Paul and I are happy to pitch in. Aren’t we?’
‘Let’s stop talking and get it done,’ he replied, walking off before anyone could stop him again.
‘I really am so grateful,’ I said to them. ‘But I messed up; I can’t ask you to fix it.’
‘We’re going to fix it together, like we do everything,’ Dad replied. ‘Now, love, stop trying to talk us out of it; we’re losing time.’
‘Come on, Willow, this isn’t like you – you were so excited about this idea; you can’t give up now you’ve hit a hurdle,’ Sabrina added as we all followed Paul to the lorry to help carry the pumpkins over to the barn.
I couldn’t help but glance over to the cottage that Dylan had been staying in, and where I’d slept last night.
That felt like a dream now. But Sabrina and my dad, and Pat and Paul, were right to give me a kick up the arse.
It was a bad day but I’d had plenty of bad days on the farm.
I couldn’t give up on it all now. Dylan wasn’t here and what happened between us hurt a lot but I had made the pact with him in the first place to save our farm, and that’s what I needed to do.
‘Okay, guys, thank you for helping. Let’s get started!’
And we did.
We spent the rest of the day working to sort things as much as we possibly could. We moved the pumpkins into the barn for shelter to try to dry out the ones that had got caught in the storm, and then we cleared away the fallen tree and resulting debris.
Sabrina worked on making a new Pumpkin Hollow sign for the front gate and then another one at the start of the patch.
No farmers I reached out to had a spare polytunnel I could get before Monday and the hire company didn’t either so, armed with the limited sewing knowledge my mother had given me, I tried to repair the tear in it to stop any further wind or rain from getting inside.
Pat sorted out all the autumn and Halloween décor inside the tunnels and swept up the hay that had been blown around and got rid of anything that had been damaged.
Then Bradley and Paul collected the benches the school were happy to lend us for the month and they found a couple of crates from a builder friend, which we could use for pumpkins.
I spoke to the pumpkin farmer and he seemed to think most of the pumpkins would be okay once they’d dried out but the dozen or so that looked destroyed, he wouldn’t charge me for as he could tell how upset I was.
As we were so close to 1 October, the day finished earlier than we would have liked. Twilight fell over the farm and then it was tricky to see what we were doing.
Sabrina came to find me in the polytunnel as I looked at the patch-up job I’d done. I’d decided to drape one of the fabric cobwebs I’d bought across it so it wasn’t visible; people would just see the web, especially when I stuck a plastic spider up there too.
‘You wouldn’t know anything had happened to it,’ Sabrina said, smiling.
‘I just hope the weather won’t get in again,’ I replied, unsure if I’d done enough to protect against another storm.
‘The signs are done and Paul is fixing them tightly into the ground as we speak,’ she added.
‘Your dad is making dinner for anyone who wants it. I think Pat and Paul are going back to the café though, and I need to see Dottie and Bradley. But we will all be back early tomorrow morning. No arguments from you about that.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you all today. I was ready to give up. I panicked.’
‘It’s understandable, but it kind of looked worse than it turned out to be, right? Once we cleared that tree away, it hasn’t been too bad.’
We both looked around the tunnel. It did look like a fun and festive autumnal trail for people to walk through and get photos in and pick up a pumpkin. Pat had also had the idea to bring out two large barrels we had in the barn so we could let kids go apple bobbing in them.
‘Things are always hardest before you start,’ I agreed with her as we walked out slowly together.
I looked over at the farmhouse lit up, smoke coming out of the chimney, and I was filled with gratitude that I was about to go inside into the warmth and have dinner and think about how people had rallied around me today.
‘Today is a prime example of why I love living here,’ I said.
‘I was lost but everyone stepped in to help without me having to ask.’
‘It’s always been like that,’ Sabrina agreed as we walked over to her parked car so she could head home for the night.
‘I want to stay,’ I said quietly, my voice mingled in with the gentle breeze.
‘We’ll find a way,’ she promised. She climbed into her car and we said goodbye then I walked into the farmhouse. My phone beeped with an email as I headed for the kitchen.
Hi Willow, I was given your number by Dylan Henderson. I would love to come and do a piece about your pumpkin patch for the local paper and our website. Would Monday at 2p.m. be okay for me to come by with our photographer and speak to you?
It was quickly followed by another email – this time from a woman whose name I vaguely recognised.
Hi Willow, I have been speaking to Dylan Henderson who I went to school with.
I am always looking for places I can visit to vlog for my YouTube channel and other social media and I am a huge fan of pumpkin patches.
He thought that I could come by to see yours if you’re happy for me to take some content while I’m there?
I stared at my phone, pausing before I went into the kitchen.
Dylan had been contacting people about the patch.
Before he walked away today, or afterwards?
Either way, it was surprising that he cared enough to try to get publicity.
Once again, I was confused by how much he seemed to want to help the patch be successful when it wasn’t in his interest to do so.
And went against his boast to his brother about me being definitely ready to sell the farm to them.
I had no idea what the truth really was.
How did Dylan feel about the farm and me? Maybe now I’d never know.
Scrolling to the pumpkin patch website Dylan had made, I checked ticket sales and they had gone up to fifty. My heart leapt. Then a text message came through from female Pat explaining the increase.
Pat has spread the word while we were at the farm today, letting everyone know that coming to the patch will save the farm and keep you and your dad in Birchbrook. See you tomorrow! Keep the faith!
‘Willow, you okay? You look… stunned,’ Dad said, standing in the kitchen doorway, frowning to find me stood there staring down at my phone.
‘I am a little bit,’ I told him but I smiled. ‘Maybe it will be all right. People really do want to help us, don’t they?’
‘I think we should have told people we were in trouble sooner,’ Dad said. ‘We’re both a bit stubborn, aren’t we, love? Come on, let’s have some food, and a glass of wine feels in order.’
‘Good idea.’ I remembered my mum telling me that my stubbornness came from my father. I followed him, wondering if she was looking down at us and having a little giggle at my dad saying that.