Chapter 4
HOLLY
My knuckles gripped the steering wheel so tightly, they turned white.
The city was fading in my rear-view mirror and I was worried I might be having an out-of-body experience.
I’d left my tiny flat in a complete mess this morning.
I was rushing around trying to choose an outfit that said I’m a huge success even though that was a complete lie, trying to tame my freshly washed hair into its usual straight style and fielding FaceTime calls from Georgia who wanted me to give her updates on how I was getting on.
I’d had three coffees, which I was regretting now, as my knee kept bouncing against the steering wheel and my heart was racing with a mixture of nerves and the caffeine flooding through my veins.
I’d also put on far too much blusher and perfume.
I coughed as the rose scent wafted around me in my beat-up car.
‘Just relax. You’re supposed to be a smart, cool, calm, collected businesswoman,’ I muttered to myself. I’d tried, and failed, to listen to three different business motivation podcasts so far, and even singing along to Taylor Swift wasn’t working.
I hadn’t exactly planned on avoiding my hometown for ten years but once I’d arrived at university, I threw myself into studying and my social life.
Then I’d moved in with Georgia and started job hunting before finding my love for event planning.
I had thrown my whole heart and soul into working for Grant and then into my own company.
I hadn’t even given much thought to my personal life.
I’d dated, of course, but nothing special had come around.
I sometimes envied what Georgia had with Lucas but then I remembered what my dad had done and thought I was better off looking out for myself.
Living in the city and working so much meant that Birchbrook had faded into the background.
My mum had repeatedly begged me to come home but I’d always said I was too busy.
She’d come to the city a few times but each visit had felt fraught, plus she hated being away from the countryside.
I hadn’t seen her since earlier in the year.
I felt guilty sometimes but then I remembered all the pain of my teenage years.
Our relationship felt like something that couldn’t be fixed.
Now though, I was facing the prospect of having to give up all I’d been working for so I was doing what I’d been putting off for so long.
I kept telling myself that I didn’t have to agree to what Willow was proposing.
I could turn around and return to the city without anyone but her knowing I’d even set foot back in Birchbrook.
Two faces flashed in my mind. The only two people I had cared about in town: my mum, and my childhood best friend Paul.
But I was too nervous to tell my mum I was coming back in case she was either too excited to see me or wouldn’t care I was there.
I wasn’t sure which would hurt the most. And I’d lost contact with Paul so I had no idea how he would feel.
Or if he was even still in Birchbrook. I’d been too scared to ask my mum anything about him in case it made me miss him more.
He’d probably left years ago and was living somewhere great, with a family of his own.
When the first glimpses of my hometown came into view, my stomach rolled over like I’d gone over a hill even though I hadn’t. Birch trees still lined the pretty High Street, their leaves mostly fallen, leaving bare bark twisting up to the cloudy sky.
Birchbrook always started to turn festive after the big Halloween parade the town held each year so I wasn’t surprised to see fairy lights strung across the road between lamp posts that I knew would twinkle perfectly once twilight hit.
Each shop and business down the High Street had a small Christmas tree stuck to the wall above it that would also light up at night.
And I could see decorations in all the windows.
Birchbrook Flowers even had a pink bike outside draped with a glistening garland.
But I slowed the car down to look closely at only one place: Birchbrook Café.
Fairy lights were strung in the window with a gingerbread village on display.
On the door was an ‘open’ sign in the shape of a Christmas tree and I watched as a couple walked out holding takeaway cups in festive green.
I leaned to try to see more but I couldn’t make out who was inside.
I kept on driving, trying not to let thoughts of my teenage years flood back but it was useless.
I thought about all the times I’d sat in that café doing my homework with a hot chocolate in Novembers of old.
The café had been a cosy sanctuary when things got tough for my family.
Passing the local pub, the Birchbrook Arms, which had fake snow on the windows and a big Christmas tree outside, swaying in the breeze, I turned up the hill to head towards Birch Tree Farm.
I remembered going to the farm in summers to pick fruit and veg, back when it was run by Willow’s parents.
We’d been in the same year at school but not in the same friendship group.
She hadn’t joined in any of the whispers in the corridors that accompanied my last year in Birchbrook though, so I was grateful to her for that.
I was surprised she even remembered me, let alone knew about my events company.
After our phone call, I’d looked up the local paper she’d seen it in.
There was an article saying how I was a Birchbrook girl making it big in the city.
I had no idea how the paper even knew about my business or why they wanted to celebrate someone who had walked away from the town without looking back, but it had been nice to see all the same.
Maybe I wasn’t only remembered for what my dad had done.
Seeing the sign, I pulled into the sweeping drive of Birch Tree Farm, the eponymous trees waiting at the end.
They were shedding the last of their golden colour like the ones in the High Street, some of the branches bare and a pile of fallen, crunchy leaves underneath each one.
Ahead of me was the red-brick farmhouse and behind it was land that stretched out for acres.
I could see polytunnels for growing crops, two Shetland ponies grazing in one of the fields, a chicken pen and off to the side of the farmhouse, a row of pretty cottages.
The farmhouse door swung open as I parked up outside and out ran a Border collie dog followed by a woman wearing wellies and a Barbour jacket, her hair up in a bun.
She waved as I took a deep breath and climbed out of my car.
I recognised Willow instantly. She was older, of course, but still had dark hair and a warm smile.
I felt slightly more relaxed by her welcome and then her dog rushed up to me, wagging its black and white tail.
‘Hi, who are you?’ I asked as I patted the Border collie happily. I wasn’t allowed pets in my city apartment, something that made me sad almost weekly.
‘That’s Maple. Holly, you look just the same!’ Willow greeted when she joined us. When her coat moved, I could see her small baby bump. Her cheeks glowed pink with happiness. ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’ She held out her arms and surprised, I gave her a quick hug.
‘I don’t know about that; I definitely saw a grey hair the other day,’ I said when we parted. ‘And I bought an anti-wrinkle cream last month.’
Willow giggled. ‘Just as self-deprecating as you were as a teenager. No, seriously, you look great. Whereas I am having difficulty in pulling on my leggings every morning now!’
‘Congratulations,’ I said sincerely as she gestured to her baby bump.
As the wind on the hill whipped around us, I instantly regretted not wearing warmer clothes; I’d forgotten how chilly it could be out here in the countryside.
‘Thank you, I still can’t quite believe it!
Come on. Let’s go in for a hot drink; you’ll freeze out here otherwise and I don’t want anything to put you off.
’ She set off at a brisk pace so I hurried after her.
Maple, Willow’s dog, ran ahead of us eagerly.
‘The farm is quieter than it’s been in months so I’m glad you’re here,’ Willow said as we walked into the farmhouse.
Warmth instantly enveloped me, putting me more at ease than I’d been all morning.
Here in the slightly ramshackle house, the problems of my past seemed far away.
I followed Willow into the kitchen, with its cosy old Aga in the corner, passing old family photographs, and we sat down at the pine table where Willow had laid out tea and cake: two things that would never fail to make me feel just a little bit better. I let myself settle into the chair.
‘Holly, I can’t thank you enough for coming today. I—’ Willow began as she poured out two cups of tea. The doorbell interrupted her. ‘Oh, who’s that now? Excuse me…’ She got back up and headed out into the hallway.
I added milk and a spoonful of sugar and then took a sip.
More calming than all the coffee I’d had that day, my heartrate started to get more under control.
Things always seemed worse before you faced them.
The world hadn’t ended because my feet were back on Birchbrook ground.
I was okay and could try to focus on what Willow’s offer would entail.
‘Well, yes, I am a little late in starting work on the winter wonderland…’ Willow’s voice came back into earshot. ‘But actually, I have my event planner here to get things moving. It’s been such a busy time but I told your mother yesterday not to worry, I have it all in hand and your café van can…’
I looked up as Willow returned to the kitchen with a man following behind her.
She rolled her eyes at me as she came back into the room.
But when I glanced at who was behind her, my tea cup clattered down onto the table, spilling the hot liquid everywhere.
‘Shit!’ I jumped up as some of it poured onto my black wide-leg trousers, grabbing napkins from the table to dab myself, the hot liquid burning me.
‘You have it all in hand, huh?’ the man said gruffly to Willow.
‘Yes, we do,’ Willow insisted. ‘Are you okay, Holly?’
‘Holly?’ the man repeated as I lifted my head slowly and this time, he locked eyes with me.
‘Hi, Paul,’ I whispered as the shock on my childhood best friend’s mirrored mine.