Chapter 5 #2
‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to meet you the other day, but you’re very welcome, Gemma. Really, very welcome. We’d almost given up hope of finding anyone mad enough to join us.’
Gemma returned the smile, but her legs were still itching to take her away – anywhere – far, far away. ‘Thank you. And hopefully not too mad.’
Willow batted her husband’s arm. ‘Shh, you’ll scare her off.
’ She turned to Gemma. ‘Now, what do you want to do first? Do you need to freshen up, or do you want to take your bags through to your bedroom?’ She pointed to a door in the kitchen which Gemma remembered from her first visit. ‘Either way, let me take your coat.’
‘Um, thanks. Maybe I’ll just pop to the loo.’ She lowered her bag to sit beside her suitcase. ‘It’s this one, is it?’ She pointed to the other door at the rear of the room.
‘Yes, I’ll show you,’ replied Willow, moving past her. ‘It’s not difficult to remember what to do but it can take you unawares if you’re not used to it.’
Gemma stared at her. What on earth was she talking about?
Apart from one night on Cat’s birthday which was memorable for all the wrong reasons, Gemma could never recall an occasion when she’d needed help in the bathroom.
She looked at Rowan to see if he found Willow’s words as odd as she did, but he had turned away to check the contents of a pot bubbling on the stove.
Willow held the door open for her. ‘Have you ever used a composting toilet before?’
Gemma frowned. ‘A what?’
‘Composting toilet. We rely on a borehole for our water supply, so we conserve what we can. Plus, getting mains water out here would have cost an arm and a leg, so…’ She smiled at Gemma’s perplexed expression.
‘It doesn’t flush,’ she added. ‘So just, um, do whatever, and then add a little sawdust in afterwards. It’s in a tub by the side.
Paper goes in as well – it’s quite easy. ’
‘Right… thanks.’ Gemma eyed the door at the end of the corridor in astonishment, and not a little dismay. Not surprisingly, Willow had neglected to mention this little gem on Gemma’s initial visit. It made her wonder what else might be in store.
Several minutes later, she re-emerged into the kitchen, plastering a smile on her face. She was a woman of the world; she could handle these things. Perfectly able to take things in her stride. It was all going to be fine…
‘I hope you like curry,’ said Rowan as Gemma picked up her bags from the floor. ‘I wasn’t sure what to cook, but everyone likes curry, don’t they?’
Her back now to him, Gemma silently closed her eyes, trying hard not to imagine the consequences of any potential digestive disagreements. Oh, dear lord… ‘Love it,’ she said weakly.
By the time she returned from her room, Willow was laying the table. ‘Come and sit down,’ she said. ‘Dinner will be about fifteen minutes yet, so I’ve made you some tea. You must have a million questions for us.’
One or two, thought Gemma. One or two…
She pulled her phone from her back pocket before taking a seat.
‘I promised my friend I’d let her know I’ve arrived safely,’ she said.
‘Is it okay if I connect to your WiFi?’ The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, realising a split second later that things she usually took for granted might not apply here.
And a glance at the very short list of available networks confirmed it.
‘Ah…’ Willow winced. ‘That’s on our to-do list as well.’
‘It’s yet another dilemma we’ve been tussling with,’ said Rowan, joining them at the table.
‘We’re trying to live a simple life and be as self-sufficient as possible, but ironically, doing that doesn’t seem to be simple at all.
The internet doesn’t really fit with that philosophy, but it’s almost impossible to live your life without it.
And as anything we do here which incurs a cost becomes a weight on a scale we have to balance, we have to pick and choose very carefully what we add to it.
Getting WiFi to the farm has proved to be more difficult and expensive than we thought. ’
‘So for now we make do with the data allowance on our phones,’ added Willow. ‘And although it’s a bit patchy in places, the 4G round here is pretty good. There’s also a lovely little tearoom in the village who let us use their WiFi if we really need to.’
Gemma checked her phone’s display; she did indeed have a signal, but only just. What Rowan had said made perfect sense, but there was no doubt that being here was going to require a radical shift in her thinking.
‘No problem… I’ll just send her a quick message then.
Thanks.’ She dropped her head to concentrate on her task.
Not because she needed to but because she knew her face would betray her if she didn’t.
Rowan had joked about it – at least, she had assumed it was a joke – but just how mad did you have to be to live here?
She was beginning to wonder what she’d let herself in for.
‘Would it be helpful to have a chat about what you’d like me to do?’ she asked after she’d sent a quick update to Cat. ‘Is there anything in particular you’d like my help with?’
Willow exchanged a look with Rowan. ‘It’s more about pitching in than having specific jobs…
’ she said, faltering a little. ‘We don’t really want to think of you as an employee, more someone who lives with us, sharing in what we do.
There are tasks which keep the place ticking over, and then there’s everything else – all the stuff we’re trying to get up and running for the future.
So whatever you can lend a hand with will be great.
I’m sure we’ll figure it out.’ She looked anxiously at her husband.
‘Did that sound horribly like we don’t know what we’re doing? ’
‘Horribly,’ agreed Rowan, softening his reply with a fond smile.
He redirected his look to Gemma. ‘But it is very difficult to explain what we’re about here, and although we’ve got lots of plans and ideas for the place, it often feels as if we’re making it up as we go along.
Quite a lot of people think we’re mad for doing this, weird even.
Gullible, delusional… and that’s just the nice things people have said.
’ He grinned. ‘But I guess what we want to say is that we don’t really have any expectations, but that hopefully, as we get to know one another, things will naturally fall into place. Is that okay?’
Gemma nodded, somewhat cautiously. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘So I like sewing and knitting,’ said Willow. ‘Plus gardening, painting and generally upcycling stuff. And Rowan likes woodwork and cooking, reading and building weird contraptions from scrap.’
‘Now we sound like we’re speed dating,’ said Rowan, laughing. ‘But we’ll get the hang of it.’ He glanced over to the cooker. ‘That should be ready by now, so let’s eat and then you can tell us all about yourself, Gemma.’
‘I’m not sure there’s that much to tell,’ she said a few minutes later, fork in hand. She raised a mouthful of food to her lips and took a tentative taste before shovelling the rest in. ‘This is wonderful,’ she said, looking down at her plate. ‘What’s in it?’
‘Sweet potato, lentils, spinach, cauliflower… All our own, apart from the lentils. Plus my own spice mix, which is, of course, magical and very, very secret.’ He smiled. ‘I’m glad you like it.’
Gemma nodded. ‘I do… Food hasn’t really figured that high on my agenda recently. But this tastes amazing.’
‘Do you like cooking?’ asked Willow.
‘I used to,’ replied Gemma, pausing for a moment. ‘But I haven’t really had much time to think about it of late, let alone enjoy it. I’ve been using those recipe boxes, you know the ones? They come with all the ingredients you need and…’ She trailed off. ‘You probably don’t approve of them.’
Rowan lifted his hand a little. ‘No judgement,’ he said. ‘We were in that position too, once upon a time. We never seemed to have time for anything – that’s really why we decided to do something about it and come here. We totally get it. It’s the same for so many people.’
‘I suppose it is,’ replied Gemma, after a moment. ‘Certainly most of my friends feel like that. And in my case it was due to a demanding job coupled with caring for my mother.’
Willow nodded.
‘She died,’ added Gemma, in answer to the unspoken question. ‘A little over three months ago.’
Willow’s fork stilled. ‘Gemma, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’
‘No reason why you should,’ replied Gemma lightly. ‘But this is something of a new start for me.’
Gemma could feel Willow’s gaze studying her downturned face.
It was what always happened whenever she mentioned her mother’s death.
The conversation died too, and then the matter was never referred to again.
But Gemma couldn’t think of any way to make it better, to explain without actually telling people she’d died.
Referring to the loss of her mum by using euphemisms seemed to belittle her life somehow, and Gemma was not prepared to do that. Not ever.
After a moment, Willow reached out and touched the back of Gemma’s hand.
‘You must feel as if you’re on another planet,’ she said.
‘Or that everything on this one feels utterly alien. As if everything you were once certain of has been pulled out from beneath you, and you’re learning how to swim again when you used to hold medals for the front crawl. ’
Gemma stared at her, caught off-guard by her astute understanding. ‘That’s it,’ she said, as if she had just discovered the key to some long-unsolved problem. ‘That’s exactly how I feel.’
‘Then you must take things slowly,’ said Rowan. ‘The water here need only be as deep as you’re comfortable with, and you can keep both feet on the bottom for as long as you like. For as long as it takes you to find your buoyancy again.’