3. Feeding Regret
I did enjoy the day by the sea with Adam. We built a sandcastle and dug for fossils, and then to both of our surprise, cows came down on to Whitepark Bay beach. It was all too much excitement for Adam, so I had to carry him back up to the car park. He’s not heavy, but that hill is steep. We both had a nap in the car before we started the fifteen-minute drive back to the campsite.
But no matter how much I enjoyed our day – hearing Adam’s laugh and watching his clumsy attempts at building a tower with dry sand, as it was easier to get in the bucket than wet sand – underneath it all, I was fuming over Trevor’s comments.
And I hate that he’s the first thing I see when I drive past the reception. What the hell is he doing standing in the middle of the road?
I stop the car and reluctantly lower the window as he walks up to the driver’s side.
He nods at me, his eyes strangely hooded, and I grit my teeth but nod back.
“Right, Adam,” he says, his gaze drifting to the back seat. “Have you been a good boy?”
My shoulders drop at the sound of Adam’s excited gasp.
* * *
“We need wellies,” Adam shouts, half an hour later, after a quick snack and very uncomfortable change of clothes in the small tent.
“Wellies?”
“Like Trev’r and Julie.” I hide my smile at the way he mispronounces Trevor. For once, Adam doesn’t ask to be carried when we trot down the field. He bounces on his feet as I open the creaky metal door to the front room of the concrete barn. Trevor is already there in his green overalls.
It’s too small for his tall frame.
My gaze drops. When the overalls are stretching the way these do, it’s difficult not to look.
I swallow tightly. I’ve never had any issues with my size, but Trevor certainly can create some penis envy.
He holds out a pair of overalls to me.
“You don’t want to get those fancy pants mucky, city boy.” He smirks. There’s a tremble in my fingers when I take them from him. Then he holds up a small pair by the shoulders. “Do you think you’ll fit into this one, Adam?”
My son’s eyes go wide.
“It’s my size. Dad, look, it’s my size!”
It’s not really, we have to roll up the legs and arms several times. Trevor places a much too big John Deere cap on top of his head, and I could kiss Trevor for the smile he brings to my boy’s face.
Well, not kiss him, kiss him…
I expected the barn to be smelly and disgusting, but although there is the distinct odour of manure, it’s less overpowering than I thought. The sounds are loud but comforting: the snuffing and chewing, the occasional moo and shuffling of hoofed feet. The cows are scarily big up close, and despite how excited Adam is, he holds a tight grip on my hand as Trevor shows us how to milk and feed them.
“It can’t be easy, running a dairy farm and a campsite,” I say, attempting some small talk.
“True. The campsite is to supplement our income.” Trevor nods, confirming what Julie told me earlier. “It’s difficult to run any farm with profits these days. It was easier when my parents were alive…” He pauses, as if he’s surprised by his own words. His eyes flick to mine and he clears his voice but continues. “Back then we were four people working the farm. Both Julie and I could get some time off. Now, there’s never enough hours in the day.”
“They’ve both… passed?” I ask, not letting on I already know.
“Cancer took my mother.” He swallows tightly. “Alzheimer’s took my dad.”
“I’m sorry.” They are too young to have lost their parents. A wave of compassion fills me and I place my hand on Trevor’s shoulder. His chest expands on a big inhale.
“He… um… He started to lose it when Mum died. Couldn’t cope without her. His decline happened so fast.”
Ever since I met Trevor in the reception, he’s seemed like a brute, but there are raw emotions below the surface. It hurts seeing such a strong man struggle.
“How did you cope? The loss of your mother, the responsibility of the farm and then looking after your father – and sister?”
He turns his head away, but I can see his throat bobbing.
“I had to send him to a home eventually, after one too many near accidents. But that was the end for him, I could just as well have put a bullet in his head. Without the farm, he was nothing.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that.” I squeeze his shoulder.
“I could have tried harder.”
His words are laced with bitterness and I know whatever I say will never ease his guilt. Instead I drop my hand and ask, “What are you going to do when Julie goes to university?”
“Work my butt off on my own.” He chuckles darkly, but he can’t hide the worried frown between his eyes. “I had hoped that the campsite would be easy money so I’d have enough to hire someone part-time. But campers are demanding buggers!”
“Sorry about that.” I laugh, easing the tension in the air.
We continue our slow track down the stalls. Trevor rubs the head of a cow as it munches on the grass.
“The campsite has just added to the to-do list. The kitchen is only makeshift. I’ve got plans to change the room next to the shower block into a bigger kitchen – it has mains water already – and turn the current kitchen into a bigger, better shower room. And then add a games room so the kids have something to do when it’s raining. But there’s never enough hours in the day. Perhaps over the winter…” He sighs deeply. “But we’ve had some bad reviews already about lacking facilities and staff. And twenty pound a night for a plot isn’t going to make me a millionaire anytime soon. I don’t know. Perhaps this whole idea was stupid.” He glances at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Sorry, I normally don’t rant like this.”
There’s heat in my stomach. I like his rant, like that he feels he can confide in me. This strong and tough man who is carrying so many burdens.
“Have you considered glamping pods? They may require initial investment, but you can charge at least a hundred pounds a night, which is quicker money. And perhaps you can keep them open all year?”
He straightens. I can sense how his mind is churning.
“Not just a pretty face, then,” he drawls, his lips twitching.
I swallow hard, at loss of a comeback as he holds my eyes with his blue ones. It’s too warm. Trevor’s gaze drops to my chest as I pull the zip down a few inches on the overall.
“Look at that cute brown one!”
I take a quick breath of air and blink a few times to clear my head. My son is pointing at a cow. The cute one is massive but stands out amongst the black and white cows.
Trevor clears his throat and steps away from me. “This one is called Rosie.”
“She’s brown, just like Moo. Can I pet her?”
“We can do better than that!”
The overalls stretch obscenely across Trevor’s body as he bends and lifts Adam up to straddle the cow. He’s so tiny on top of that big beast. The look on his face under the big cap has tears stinging my eyes. Trevor’s big hands hold securely around Adam’s waist. I bring my phone out and snap a picture, then another. I change the setting to video.
“Are you having a good time, Adam?” I ask after I press record.
“Yes,” Adam whispers, he’s so excited he’s trembling.
“What is the cow’s name?”
“Rosie,” he replies reverently and pats her skin tenderly.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A farmer, like Trev’r!”
Trevor chuckles. “You just need to grow a little taller and you can help me with the cows.”
“Can I?”
“Eating your vegetables will help you grow.”
Adam’s face twists and Trevor clamps his lips shut, but his eyes are dancing in mirth. No matter how disgusted my boy is at the prospect of eating greens, he nods solemnly and swears he’ll eat his veg from now on.
Once Adam is safely on concrete ground, I send the video off to Alison.
She replies shortly after, saying she misses Adam.
“What’s up,” Trevor asks as I snort.
“I sent the video of Adam to his mother. She’s on a week’s holiday at a Spanish resort with some girlfriends.” I swallow tightly, and words I don’t want to say spill. “Her parents are paying for her trip to the sun whereas I’m stuck on a campsite in Northern Ireland, paying for the house she lives in.”
Trevor’s eyes soften, before he narrows them into slits.
“Are you trash-talking my campsite?”
“Never.” The corner of my mouth tugs. I breathe in, forcing the bitterness from my voice. “The girls want to know if the hunky farmer is single.”
“Hunky, huh?” Trevor grins, and for some reason heat rises up my cheeks. “You can tell them I’m not single.”
“Oh?” I’m stunned for a second – I didn’t picture him with a girlfriend. But why would someone as good looking and built as him be single?
He leans closer to me, so close, I can feel his warm breath on my skin. “I’m married to the farm.”
“Oh!” I laugh, but the laugh is forced. He’s still standing too close.
His gaze momentarily drops to my lips before it flicks back up to mine. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about you using Adam. It’s obvious how much you care about the boy.”
“Thanks.” I nod and my chest expands on a big inhale. “My boy is my world.”