Chapter 22
We reached the outskirts of Blake’s hometown then.
It was pretty like Birchbrook with a pedestrianised cobbled High Street dotted with rose bushes that were bursting with colour.
Blake parked in the small car park behind it and we walked together towards the shops.
I glanced at him. He’d gone quiet and seemed nervous.
I remembered the nerves I had seeing the farm after five years.
I hoped he would feel better once he saw his family again, like I had done.
Halfway down the street was his father’s antiques shop.
It had a red sign with the name in cream – Daniels’ Antiques.
There was a black chalkboard outside with, We buy and sell antiques at fair prices written on it in white chalk, and a smiley face for good measure.
The High Street was quiet despite the good weather and when we walked in, I could see the shop was empty of any customers.
The bell rang out merrily on the door and Blake held it open for me.
Inside, the shop was long and narrow and bursting at the seams with treasures.
Everywhere I looked, there was an object.
Furniture, paintings, trinkets, mirrors, clocks, jewellery; everywhere there was space, something had been placed in it.
I thought you could spend a whole day looking around but still miss half of what was in the shop.
At one end was a counter and a till behind which a man stood replacing a battery in a watch.
The radio behind him played softly. He looked up at our entrance and did a double take.
‘Hi, Dad,’ Blake said as we walked towards him.
Blake’s father was an older version of his son – the same height and build with greying hair but similar dark eyes – and the slow smile that spread across his face, showing dimples, made him almost identical.
He wore glasses and trousers instead of the shorts Blake had on but they were very much alike.
‘Blake?’ He phrased it as a question as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
‘Yeah. This is Daisy. We’re staying together at Birch Tree Farm with my old friend Dylan and her cousin,’ he said, gesturing to me. ‘How are you?’
‘How am I?’ Blake’s dad hurried out from behind the counter and pulled Blake into a warm hug.
‘It’s been too long, son. I thought you’d never…
Anyway, it’s so good to see you.’ He glanced at me behind Blake’s back.
‘And nice to meet you, Daisy. You kept this quiet, Blake. What about…? Never mind.’ He pulled back and grinned at his son. Then he held out his hand to me.
‘It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Daniels.’
He snorted. ‘That makes me feel ancient, and I don’t need more help with that, Daisy. Call me Bill, please. Let’s close up and go and see Bronte.’
‘We can wait until your lunch break,’ Blake said.
‘I’ll take it now. It’s quiet, as you can see. She’ll be over the moon you’re back.’
‘Will she?’ Blake asked with a frown.
Bill sighed. ‘Of course she will. We’ve both missed you.
And she’ll want to meet Daisy. Come on, you two.
’ He grabbed his keys and was walking out of the shop before we could argue any further.
I looked at Blake, who shrugged with a wry smile so, with a laugh, I followed them.
Neither of us had stopped Blake’s dad from assuming we were together but I knew we’d have to say something at some point.
My family knew the truth; it would feel wrong to lie to Blake’s family.
Bill hopped into Blake’s car, which drove us out of the High Street, a few minutes outside town, and then down a bumpy lane to a pretty house with a lot of land around it.
It was painted white and had rose bushes outside it like back in town.
Behind the house, I could see a field and a barn with a sign outside saying, Daniels’ Riding School.
There were four horses grazing in the field.
I assumed one of them belonged to Blake.
It was an idyllic place, not unlike Willow’s farm, and the contrast between it and Blake’s current city life felt stark. I wondered which one he felt he belonged in. I was beginning to see that I’d never fit in the city, not like I did around here.
The door opened and out walked a tall, slim woman with the same light-brown hair as Blake. She stopped to watch the car pull onto the gravel driveway. She looked as stunned as her dad when Blake parked and climbed out of the car.
‘Blake?’
‘Hey, sis.’
She let out a shriek, bounded over and jumped into his arms.
I watched Blake’s face. He looked shocked then happy as he grinned and hugged his sister tightly. I saw their dad duck his head and wipe at his eyes. And I had to swallow a lump in my throat as I turned away with a relieved smile.
* * *
Being in the Daniels’ house was similar to how I had felt in my childhood home, and how it felt being on Birch Tree Farm: warm, familiar and comfortable.
Bronte and her father lived there along with Bronte’s husband and their two kids, the four horses and three Labrador dogs.
It was a large home and filled with things like in their antiques shop: cosy corners with armchairs, lots of books, soft rugs, lamps of all shapes and sizes, and a grandfather clock which they informed me was always exactly one hour and seven minutes slow no matter how many times they tried to fix it.
When we arrived, Bronte’s kids were at school and her husband was out buying supplies for their business so we sat down to lunch as a foursome, choosing to go outside as it was so warm.
The garden made me gasp when I stepped out from the French doors in the lounge.
It stretched out into the field where the horses were and behind it were hills that appeared to touch the sky.
But it was the flowers in the garden that took my breath away.
Hanging baskets with pink and red flowers hung along the side of the house.
There was a decking area with a table and chairs.
Above it, was a gazebo covered in climbing flowers that formed a pretty arch.
Bordering the garden were roses of all different varieties that looked stunning and smelled amazing.
‘My mother would have loved to see this,’ I said as I took it all in. It was clearly carefully kept but also looked wild, as if the flowers had just sprung up in perfect bloom like they had always meant to be there. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
Blake was watching me. He smiled. ‘Bronte’s pride and joy.’
‘Any chance I get, I’m out here,’ she said from behind us as she carried out a jug of lemonade.
‘I don’t blame you.’
‘Your mother is a gardener too?’ she asked as she gestured for us to sit down at the table.
‘She was a florist; she had her own flower shop. But she loved the small garden we had at home too. I think about that garden sometimes,’ I replied wistfully.
Bronte frowned at me in concern.
‘I lost my parents a few years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said sincerely. ‘Do you have a garden you can plant flowers in? You seem to love them so much.’
Her simple question stunned me. Why hadn’t I made any use out of Henry’s family’s garden? I barely went into it, let alone planted anything or enjoyed the flowers there. But then again, they had a gardener and it didn’t have the same feeling as this garden did.
‘Daisy is making a lovely arch for the farm we’re staying at with Dylan,’ Blake said when he saw I wasn’t sure how to answer.
He pulled his phone out, to my surprise, and showed his sister and dad a picture he’d taken of my flower arch, telling them all about Dylan and Willow as well as the plans Willow had for the trail and strawberry fields.
He then showed them the pony enclosure he had built.
‘The arch is so pretty,’ Bronte said, smiling. She was looking at us with curiosity. ‘I’m glad you’ve reconnected with Dylan, Blake. You two used to be so close. You’re staying on the farm for a couple of weeks?’
‘Yeah, I just needed a change of scenery,’ Blake said. ‘I know I could have stayed here but…’ He trailed off and coughed uncomfortably. ‘I know you’re all so busy,’ he finished lamely.
‘I need to point out the elephant in the room,’ Bronte said then. ‘You’re here with Daisy, which is lovely, so does that mean you’re not with Sarah any more?’ I didn’t miss the hope in her voice and I knew Blake must have heard it too.
‘Well,’ Blake began, ‘kind of, I don’t know, it’s complicated. We did break up but we have the business and everything,’ he mumbled awkwardly.
‘But…’ Bronte looked between me and Blake, confused.
‘We’re just friends,’ I added quickly, earning a raised eyebrow from him. I tried not to think about our kisses, which was pretty damn difficult.
‘You don’t need to explain, son,’ his dad said hurriedly, shooting a warning glance at Bronte. I could guess his thoughts; he didn’t want her to make Blake not want to visit again. ‘Leave him alone, Bronte. Let’s talk about something else.’
‘Okay, okay,’ she said. ‘I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour, okay, big brother?’ She smiled with mischief.
Blake relaxed into a smile too. ‘Are you ever on your best behaviour, little sister?’
‘They are always like this,’ their father said to me with a chuckle. He looked relieved Blake was taking it with good humour.
I smiled back. ‘I’m an only child so it’s nice to see siblings banter. Although I guess Willow, who is my cousin, used to feel like my sister. It’s nice to be staying with her for the summer. And helping out. Making the arch was fun.’ I looked out at the garden again, enjoying the view.
‘Tuck in, guys,’ Bronte instructed. ‘So, do you live on the farm with your cousin?’ She was trying hard not to be too curious but I could tell she longed to know what was going on between us.
‘She’s just here staying in Birchbrook for a break too,’ Blake said quietly, giving his sister a warning look.
‘Right,’ Bronte said, but I wondered how long it would be until she found out everything.
She passed me a bowl of salad and I added some to my plate along with spicy chicken wings, a jacket potato and coleslaw.
There was also quiche, crusty bread and a bowl of cold vegetable rice.
Bronte definitely took after my Uncle Adam when it came to providing lots of fresh and tasty food for guests.
‘It’s okay,’ I assured her. ‘I wanted to stay with family as things are complicated with my fiancé,’ I said, thinking she might have clocked my engagement ring.
‘A lot of complicated relationships on this farm,’ Bronte observed lightly. ‘Well, I hope you work it out, guys.’
‘If Sarah and Henry let us,’ I said without thinking.
‘You’ve met Sarah?’ Bronte pounced on my words.
‘She’s in Birchbrook too,’ Blake admitted while I shot him an apologetic look. ‘And so is Daisy’s fiancé. One big happy family,’ he added with bitterness.
‘Okay, sorry, but you can’t just tell us that.
What’s going on?’ Bronte said. ‘I know you’ve stayed away because I told you it was a mistake to move in with Sarah and set up this dating app with her.
All your calls home this past year have been small talk but you’re here in our home now.
Without Sarah. With another woman.’ Bronte smiled at me.
‘Who seems very nice.’ She looked back at Blake. ‘What’s going on, big brother?’
‘Blake will tell us when he’s ready,’ his dad interjected. ‘Daisy, why don’t you tell us more about Birch Tree Farm?’ Bill asked. ‘It sounds so idyllic.’
I glanced at Blake, who was staring down at his plate, and his sister, who was glowering at her father.
To keep the peace, I did as Bill asked and launched into a speech about Willow and her dad, about how I’d grown up visiting the farm, and then how I hadn’t been back for a few years.
How Willow had created the pumpkin patch to save them from having to sell the farm.
And how much I was enjoying helping them out for the summer.
It was actually a relief not to be talking or thinking about Henry or Sarah, or even what had happened between me and Blake for a while.
‘They’ve just got two Shetland ponies that Blake is helping them with. They’re going to offer pony rides.’
Bronte turned to Blake then. ‘I thought you’d given up horses,’ she said shortly.
‘The black horse is Blake’s,’ Bill said quietly to me. I looked over. The horse’s coat shone in the sunshine.
‘Midnight,’ Blake said, also turning to look. ‘I’ve had her for eight years. The other three belong to my sister and her husband for the riding school. Midnight stayed here when I left for the city.’ He looked at Bronte. ‘I’d like to see her.’
‘Go ahead,’ she said. ‘She’s missed you.’
‘We all have,’ their dad quickly added.
‘I still can’t believe you chose the city over all this,’ Bronte added then with a shake of her head. ‘Over us.’ She spoke angrily but I could see the hurt in her eyes. She had missed her brother too.
‘It wasn’t that I chose the city over you all,’ Blake said defensively.
‘I fell in love with Sarah and wanted to make a life with her. There was so much to do – finding a place to live then trying to set up our company – and it’s a long way and…
I wanted to come and see you but I knew how angry you both were that I’d left.
I suppose I thought that I wouldn’t be welcome,’ Blake finished in a quiet voice, looking down at his plate again.
Bronte tutted. ‘As if you wouldn’t be welcome. You know I thought it was a mistake to leave and be with her, but this will always be your home. You know that, right?’
‘Yeah,’ Blake said, but I could tell her words meant a lot to him. He took a deep breath and looked up. ‘Things aren’t great between us but I’d rather not hear an “I told you so”.’
‘I won’t say that but you should have come home. Instead, you ran away,’ Bronte said, her voice rising with passion. Her cheeks flushed. ‘Just like our mother.’