Chapter Twenty This Is the Place
The following weekend Danny and Luis caught an early train from King’s Cross Station, travelling north of London to the town of Hatfield in Hertfordshire, famous for its country manors and scenic countryside.
This time Jasper couldn’t accompany them since he was busy with an autumn wedding taking place in Twycross Zoo in Leicestershire.
After facilitating the bride’s request to feed the penguins he managed to find the time to phone Danny explaining that it was better that he and Luis experienced this next venue by themselves, advising them to cast aside the fact sheets and focus on a simple emotional question – did it feel true to them?
After the call finished, Luis picked at the fluff on his trousers.
‘Will being married change anything?’
Danny asked, ‘Do you mean for us?’
Luis clarified, ‘For you.’
‘It must do, right?’
‘Why?’
‘Otherwise, why would anyone marry?’
Luis pressed, ‘What are you hoping it will change?’
Trying to lighten the tone, Danny smiled. ‘Luis, there’s not a list.’
However, Luis remained serious.
‘But you expect there to be a change?’
Danny nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘And you don’t know what the change is?’
‘No.’
‘But you know that you want it?’
Understanding that more was expected of him, Danny admitted, ‘When we first got together, I told everyone who’d listen that I’d met someone special.
And I could see even my closest friends thinking – let’s see how long this lasts.
Because I’d never held down a relationship longer than a few months.
And I would say – no, seriously, this guy is the one.
No one believed me. In their heads our break-up was inevitable. It was just a matter of time.’
Luis pointed out, ‘We proved them wrong a long time ago.’
Danny agreed.
‘But the feeling is still inside of me. That our foundations are not as strong. Or as deep. That our love is less.’
Luis turned the word over.
‘This wedding will make us more?’
‘It might.’
‘Give us weight?’
‘Something like that.’
‘In the minds of other people?’
‘Yes.’
‘In your mind too?’
‘In my mind? No, Luis. I want what is in my mind and in my heart to exist out there, in the world – that’s what I want.’
Black Rabbit Farm was a thirty-minute cab ride from Hatfield station and the taxi driver, having driven many guests to weddings there, asked who was getting married, incapable of imagining it could be the two men sitting in the back of his cab. Flatly, Danny answered: ‘We are.’
Embarrassed by his mistake the driver told them how beautiful the farm was and how wonderful their wedding would be. Danny didn’t speak again until they arrived at the farm while Luis made small talk with the driver to smooth over the awkwardness.
Stepping out of the taxi, Danny’s bad mood was eased by the sight of his surroundings.
At the end of a driveway was a limestone farmhouse.
The walls were constructed from hand-cut stone held together with mortar, topped with a grey slate roof, spotted with patches of moss and wildflowers.
Crooked and uneven, the fairytale building was sheltered by an alliance of ash trees.
Walking forward to greet them were the owners, a couple in their early fifties, both in excellent shape with lustrous hair and lean figures.
It was hard to know if they drew their health from the farm or if the farm drew its health from them.
They hugged Danny and Luis with as much affection as if they were long-lost relatives.
The wife was called Beth. The husband was called Noah.
As they walked around the farm the couple shared their life story.
They had been employed by Barings Bank, one of Britain’s oldest merchant banks which, after two hundred years of profit and prosperity, collapsed into bankruptcy because of a rogue trader.
Unemployed at the same time, they sold their home in Greenwich and ploughed all their money into restoring Black Rabbit Farm, making this land both their home and their livelihood, not from farming but by hosting events, from indie music festivals to weddings.
They rewilded the fields and cleaned up the lake, once choked by algae and discarded scrap, now home to carp and bream.
They built a walled garden using the traditional dry-stone methods where they had planted herbs and vegetables.
The threshing barn was the central space for the celebrations, far larger than the actual farmhouse, with sliding doors that could be opened if the weather was fine.
Though it had been extensively renovated, the original timber beams remained.
It looked like a cross between an ancient barn and an avant-garde theatre.
Beth commented, ‘Our chairs and tables are from a furniture maker in St Albans. Our florist uses flowers grown locally. We serve seasonal food, English sparkling wine from Cornwall, fruit from the local orchards.’
Working as a team, even in conversation, Noah added, ‘We don’t want to sound prescriptive or pretentious.
This is your day. You pick the food, the music; you want more flowers, less flowers – whatever you want.
But this farm has a soul and a character and the closer we stay to that natural character the better the event turns out. ’
Surprised that both Danny and Luis were so subdued, Beth suggested, ‘Let’s show you the wedding forest.’
On the edge of ancient woodland was a newly planted area of trees that they referred to as the wedding forest. Noah pointed to the copper name plaques on the trunks.
‘We plant a tree for each marriage we host. We moved here at the end of 1996 and opened for business two years later. To date we’ve planted over two hundred trees. Some couples who married over a decade ago have returned and we’ve hosted anniversary dinners for them.’
Walking through this forest dedicated to different love stories, Danny found the oldest tree which had been planted in the summer of 1998. He gestured at Luis.
‘This could’ve been our tree.’
It wasn’t clear if they were planning a missed wedding or an unheralded anniversary or some fusion of the two.
Beth said, ‘Jasper phoned before you arrived. He’s one of the best wedding planners in the business.
We only have one weekend available next summer and that’s down to a recent cancellation.
I’m afraid we have no flexibility on the date, Saturday, 20 July.
If you like the place, we’d love to host your wedding.
We’re sure we could put on a great celebration for you guys. ’
Noah agreed.
‘We’ll give you some time to talk alone. We’ll be in the farmhouse. Stop by when you’re ready.’
After Noah and Beth left Danny turned to Luis.
‘What do you think?’
Luis hadn’t moved from the base of the oldest marriage tree. He placed his hand against the trunk.
‘I think we’re getting married in July.’