Chapter 9
The journey to Northumberland passed by painfully slowly with Maddie staring out of the window, earbuds in, refusing to speak to me.
We had several service station stops to give the animals a break, during which the only conversations related to them.
Nova and Skye were seasoned travellers and had done the journey to Northumberland before, Clemmie had mewed solidly for ten minutes before settling to sleep and Maddie’s guinea pigs – brothers Bubble and Squeak – seemed unfazed.
Maddie drifted off to sleep after our final stop at a services near Durham so I kept the radio on low, singing along softly to a local station playing music exclusively from the nineties, transporting me back to my teenage years.
As we passed the turn-off to Alnwick, butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
I was in familiar territory and we were on the final stretch now, just forty-five minutes from our new home and new life.
I smiled at the first glimpses of the North Sea in the distance to the right and looked forward to visiting one of the many beautiful beaches along this stretch of the coast. Designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, the Northumberland coastline boasted miles of predominantly deserted wide beaches approached from coastal paths, pretty villages or over grassy dunes.
With castles perched on cliffs, beautiful nature reserves and views across to Holy Island and the Farne Islands, I couldn’t imagine any visitors not being blown away by the spectacular scenery.
Half an hour past Alnwick, the butterflies circled as I indicated left, joining the same road towards Rowanbridge and Mapleton that Mam and I had spontaneously taken four months ago with no idea where it was going to lead us both literally and figuratively.
‘Maddie?’ I said, eliciting a sleepy groan. ‘Maddie? We’re nearly there.’
She groaned again but stretched her arms and back. ‘How far is it?’
‘Ten minutes.’
As she gazed out of the window. I wondered what was going through her mind. She was used to being surrounded by countryside but she was also used to having shops and amenities close by.
‘How far are we from Newcastle?’ she asked.
‘Maybe ninety minutes by car. It’s about the same to Edinburgh.’
‘Is there a train?’
‘From Berwick-Upon-Tweed – twenty-minute drive and about fifty minutes by train.’
‘Urgh! So we’re miles from civilisation.’
That was such a Carmen-influenced comment.
Growing up, Maddie had never shown any interest in shopping, hating it when we needed to venture into Reading for new clothes or shoes.
She was a country girl like me, into long walks, bike rides and horse riding.
Enter Carmen, exit the love of the outdoors and it was all about weekends hanging out in the shopping centre in Reading or train journeys into London.
I’d had an inkling that proximity to the nearest city would be Maddie’s top priority and was surprised she hadn’t mentioned it until now – although she’d have had to speak to me to do that.
I desperately hoped her love of the countryside would return because, with a new home to settle into and a business opening in a fortnight, a day of shopping in Newcastle or Edinburgh wasn’t on my list of priorities.
‘Do you want to know more about the farm?’ I asked.
‘I’ll see it for myself when I get there.’
My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I stifled a sigh.
Even after we’d had our offer accepted in February Maddie had refused to visit Hazelwick Farm with us.
I’d tried on so many occasions to talk to her about the horses and the goats, to show her the photos and videos I’d taken when Mam and I had our viewing, but she hadn’t been interested.
After making a deal with the Naylors for some of the Fetlock Farm cows, I’d expected some excitement considering how much Maddie had loved the cow cuddling experience, but I’d got nothing.
I told myself she was just being stubborn because she hadn’t wanted to move and her love for animals would eventually win her over, but now I wasn’t so sure.
A love for all animals was a trait from past Maddie.
The only animals that present Maddie seemed to care about were her guinea pigs.
‘That’s Rowanbridge,’ I said, as we passed the turning to the first village.
‘I can read, you know.’
‘You know what else you can do?’ I said, my voice tight. ‘You can speak without snapping, without sarcasm, without adding a frustrated urgh at the end of your sentences.’
I could have stopped there because I’d made my point but I was sick of staying quiet to keep the peace.
‘Do you know how I know this? Because that’s how you used to speak.
I understand that you’re not happy about the move – I’ve got that loud and clear from the outset – but it’s where we are and what we’re doing so you’re going to have to find a way of dealing with it.
You’re nearly eighteen. You keep saying you want to be treated like an adult so I suggest you start behaving like one. ’
I paused for her to retort but she said nothing, although we were back to the contempt radiating from her. Feeling stifled, I opened the window and gulped in the fresh air.
The butterflies went into overdrive as I indicated right at a sign for Hazelwick Farm and pulled onto the farm track. Maddie surely had to be feeling a smidgen of excitement by now, but I didn’t dare ask.
As I drove past the farmyard, I glanced at the clock on the dashboard – 6.21 p.m. – meaning it had taken over nine hours to get here. Nine slow, uncomfortable hours with a daughter who I couldn’t seem to reach no matter what approach I tried.
I came to a stop beside Mam’s 4x4. Nova and Skye were standing up, circling round the boot, as though they knew they’d arrived at their new home.
‘There’s your nanna,’ I said as the side door to the farmhouse opened and Mam appeared, waving frantically.
Maddie opened the car door and ran up to Mam, nearly knocking her off her feet as she hugged her.
It warmed my heart to see it and I just hoped that Maddie’s love for my mam would keep her attitude in check as the last thing I wanted was for the move to sour their good relationship.
When we’d visited Parsley Meadows in February, Maddie had spent most of her time in her room but, when she had graced us with her presence, she’d mainly been on her best behaviour.
Was there any chance of that continuing now that we were all living under the same roof?
Pressing a button to open the boot, I smiled as the dogs leapt out and raced up to Mam, eager for her attention.
‘We’ll soon get you three settled,’ I said as I opened the back door to let some air through for Clemmie, Bubble and Squeak.
Maddie had released Mam and it was my turn for a hug. I held on for longer than usual, needing to feel loved.
‘Would you like to see your bedroom first or get Bubble and Squeak settled?’ I asked Maddie.
‘The boys,’ she said, ‘although I need the loo first.’
While Mam took Maddie inside to show her where the downstairs toilet was, I reached for Clemmie’s crate, bed and a bag of her belongings and carried them into the house.
There was a utility room off the kitchen in which Mam had set up water and food bowls at one end and a litter tray at the other.
Although she was an outdoors cat, we needed to keep Clemmie inside for at least three weeks to give her time to settle into her new home, to feel safe here and to leave scent markers to help her find her way back once she was let out.
I placed the igloo cat bed Clemmie favoured on the tiled floor beside her travel crate, unclipped the lid on the crate and lifted it off.
With a mournful meow, she clambered out immediately.
I picked her up, kissed her head between her ears and stroked her white bib, reassured when the meows turned to purrs.
‘This is your new home, Clemmie,’ I said, turning slowly in a circle. ‘I’ll give you a proper tour shortly but I need to keep you in here for now.’
I placed her down by the water bowl and she took a few laps while I removed a couple of her favourite toys from the bag along with a pouch of cat treats, which I opened.
Feeding her a couple and leaving a few in her food bowl, I left the utility room, making sure the door was firmly closed behind me.
The move was stressful enough without adding a missing cat into the mix.
The kitchen looked impressively tidy with the essentials like the kettle, toaster and coffee maker out on the worktops and several boxes piled neatly against the wall waiting to be unpacked.
The purchase of the farm had completed on Monday so Mam had moved in then and Hope had helped her settle in.
While Maddie sat her final exam yesterday, our furniture and belongings had been loaded onto a removals lorry which had travelled halfway yesterday and finished the journey today.
I’d initially been disappointed that we hadn’t been able to coordinate the same moving day for us all but, with hindsight, it was probably less chaotic this way.
‘We were beginning to think you’d got lost,’ Mam said when I joined her and Maddie outside.
‘I needed to get Clemmie settled after her long journey,’ I said, instantly regretting those words thanks to the response it triggered from Maddie.
‘And I need to get Bubble and Squeak settled after their long journey,’ she snapped, stared at me pointedly before turning to Mam and sweetening her tone. ‘Where’s their new home, Nanna?’
‘That way.’ Mam pointed behind the farmhouse but, as we set off walking with the dogs, Mam turned and widened her eyes at me and mouthed, ‘Wow!’
Yes, wow indeed! So much for thinking that Maddie would contain her attitude around Mam.
‘Your Auntie Hope has been busy all day,’ Mam said, falling into step with Maddie. ‘She’s set up a new hutch with an outdoor run for Bubble and Squeak which I’m sure they’ll love.’
‘Why won’t they be in the back garden like at home?’
‘Because the back garden’s an overgrown mess and it’ll take longer than a day to sort it out,’ Mam said, ‘but they’re not far away.’
The farmhouse garden was enclosed by a stone wall at the back and fencing on either side.
The wall was in reasonable condition but several of the fence panels had fallen down and a couple were missing.
Thick thistles and wildflowers had been left to take over what had presumably once been a lawn and, while I loved wildflowers and was happy to encourage their growth elsewhere on the farm, I didn’t want them taking over the back garden.
There was so much else to do around the farm that the garden would need to wait until next year.
Fortunately the Garstangs had kept the front lawn mown so we could set up a patio table and chairs out there.
To our left was a row of stone barns, ahead of us beyond those was Peartree Cottage and a forge – both of which were rented out to a longstanding tenant – and to the right was The Dovecote, previously rented out as a holiday cottage.
Between The Dovecote and the wall at the back of the farmhouse garden was a grassy area where Hope had set up the new home for the guinea pigs.
‘Why’s there two houses?’ Maddie asked. ‘They live together.’
I’d asked Hope to pick up a pair of new guinea pigs for Maddie as a housewarming present and I could see them in the run adjoining the furthest house.
I just hoped I’d done the right thing as it could easily backfire on me.
You can’t buy my approval with guinea pigs.
I braced myself for a negative reaction but Maddie released an excited squeal instead.
‘You got me more?’ she asked, looking at Mam, a smile on her face for the first time in ages.
‘Auntie Hope got them but it was at your mam’s request.’
‘They’re boys too,’ I said, ‘but you’ll need to keep them separate at first to—’
‘I do know how to look after guinea pigs,’ Maddie snapped before heading over to them.
Mam’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say something – probably commenting on Maddie’s rudeness – but I shook my head at her.
We’d had a long journey and she was bound to be feeling tired and irritable.
I’d already pulled her up on her attitude when we drove past Rowanbridge so I’d let this one go.
‘You’d better not have named them,’ Maddie said, turning and glaring at me. Something snapped inside me at the lack of gratitude and, despite my resolve to remain calm, I wasn’t going to be able to let it go after all.
‘No, I haven’t named them, Maddie,’ I said, my tone brittle. ‘I bought them for you so you have naming rights. It’d be nice to be involved but that’s your call. What would be even nicer is if you said thank you.’
I held her gaze, hoping she’d take the opportunity but she just stared at me defiantly.
I could feel a scream welling up inside me and I had to get out of there before I unleased it all on Maddie because that wouldn’t be fair.
This wasn’t just about her and her appalling attitude.
This was about Laurie breaking our wedding vows, breaking up our family, breaking my heart.
‘I’m taking Nova and Skye for a walk round the farm,’ I said, turning away so Mam and Maddie couldn’t see the tears brimming in my eyes. ‘Nova! Skye! Walkies!’
‘Take your time,’ Mam called. ‘I’ll see to Clemmie.’
I raised my hand in thanks, so grateful to her for understanding.
I knew it was unfair to leave Mam to deal with Maddie but I had to get away from her.
Nine hours on the road together had been more than enough and I needed some space on my own – space being something our new home thankfully had in abundance.