‘Oh … why’s that, pet?’
‘She’s been asking about her dad, and why he’s not around. I think the other kids at school have been asking questions and teasing her.’
‘Oh dear … bless her.’ Jill sighed. ‘It’s a tricky one, isn’t it. I don’t suppose you heard a thing back from him about her birthday, either?’
‘Now then … what do you think?’ Rachel asked, ironically.
‘Well, we can only be honest with her, Rachel. Be there to field her questions. She’s growing up, she’s bound to be curious.’
‘Yes … I think she’s missing him. Well, missing a father figure anyway. Especially with Dad …’ Rachel couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
‘Yes, I know, I know, love. We’ve just got to be strong for her. Be her mum, dad, grandparents … everything. Families come in all shapes and sizes, especially these days.’
‘You’re right. Thanks, Mum. We can only do our best, can’t we.’
‘Indeed. And, today was a pretty good shot at a super birthday party for her.’
‘It was. Well then, I don’t think I’ll need any help getting off to sleep tonight.’ Rachel gave in to another yawn.
‘Nor me.’
They spent a few quiet moments sat in the kitchen, Rachel looking out of the window at the view; the fields with their white woolly sheep dotted about and the valley below – all green and lush, and rather beautiful. The gentle foothills of the Cheviots which cradled their lovely farmhouse. Rachel gave a tired, yet contented sigh. It was lovely to stop for a second and take in the scene – sometimes you were so busy you forgot to look.
Later that evening, Rachel carried Maisy upstairs and, after a nice warm bath, they started reading Tom’s birthday book, all about magical adventures at a fairy glen – a good choice.
Maisy’s head was heavy on the pillow.
‘Night, night, Maisy. Happy birthday, my love.’
‘Night, Mummy.’ Maisy went quiet for a second and looked thoughtful. ‘Mummy … do you think … maybe Tom could be my daddy?’ she said sleepily.
‘Oh, Maisy. It doesn’t quite work like that, sweetheart.’ Rachel kissed her little girl gently on the forehead. ‘Night, night, petal. Sweet dreams.’
If only life was that simple.
COFFEE, CHAT AND CHOCOLATE BROWNIES
A few days after the party, reality was hitting home all too hard for Rachel. With lambing over and birthday dreams delivered, the cold hard facts of the farm’s ever deepening financial woes were impossible to avoid. Rachel could no longer shield Jill from the truth, as leaving their heads in the sand any longer would lead to far bigger issues – and the chance that they might lose the farm altogether. That was one thing Rachel could not risk.
The time had come to face the music. Maisy was at school, Rachel had done the morning’s farm checks and she and Jill were pottering around in the farmhouse kitchen.
Rachel took a deep breath. ‘Mum, we need to talk.’
‘Okay, right. What about … you sound awfully serious?’
‘Well, it is.’
‘Does it warrant a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, I think maybe a gin actually.’
‘Ah …’
Jill quickly put the kettle on and set about making a pot of tea, placing a small milk jug and two cups in the centre of the pine table.
‘It’s the farm. We’re struggling, Mum.’ Rachel found herself all choked up just saying the words aloud. Yes, she’d known it herself for some time, but telling her mum made it all much more real. She was incredibly worried about how it would affect her.
‘Oh … Well, it’s always been a bit of a juggling act, love. Even years back.’ Mum’s tone was light.
Rachel realised that she’d not quite grasped the seriousness of the situation. How very wrong it had all gone since Dad’s death.
‘It’s getting harder and harder to earn a living, Mum. I didn’t want to have to involve you, I hoped we might see a turnaround, but the prices for sheep aren’t looking too good for when we come to market, and our costs are forever rising. We are already struggling with an overdraft now and if things carry on the way they are, in a few months’ time we’ll hit rock bottom – the farm’s subsidy payment for this year is already nearly used up.’ Most of it had disappeared into the black hole of the farm’s overdraft straight away.
‘It’s gone already?’ Jill looked shocked.
‘Yes, I’m sorry, Mum.’
In fact, at any point the bank might pull the plug on them and that would be it. Rachel held back from voicing that last hammer blow.
‘Oh dear …’ Jill grasped the edge of the table. ‘Well, it’s not your fault, pet. It’s the way things are, have been, for a long time. Your dad …’ Jill couldn’t finish that sentence. Instead, she stirred the teapot and poured out the tea on autopilot.
There were a few seconds of heartfelt silence between them.
Jill took a deep breath. ‘So, what do we do?’
Rachel had already been thinking so much about this. ‘Okay, one, I think we have to sell some land. Just one or two fields for now, to get some extra income in to keep us afloat.’ It wasn’t ideal and was very much a last resort. Losing land was heart-breaking and there was always a sense of shame within the farming community somehow, in letting it get to that. But sod it, they had already been through enough, who gave a stuff about rural tittle-tattle? If it meant keeping the rest of the farm together, giving them time to find some way out of this, then so be it.
Jill couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. There were a few seconds before she said pragmatically, ‘All right, if needs must. But that still won’t solve the long-term income problems, will it?’
‘No … but …’ Maybe it was time for Rachel to share her pudding business ideas. Sow the thought that they might be able to do things differently. She didn’t have much else up her sleeve. ‘Look, Mum, I’ve been doing some research. We need to do something new, to diversify.’
Jill was nodding, listening.
‘So hear me out. I’m thinking … puddings,’ Rachel continued. ‘A pudding business. Something we can do from here. I think it might have legs.’
‘Oh, blimey. So, how do you see it working?’
‘Well, you’re great at baking. And you really enjoy it, don’t you?’ Rachel felt nervous broaching the idea.
‘Well yes, but … a business … I’m sure there’s a darn sight more to it than just enjoying baking, love.’
‘Of course. I know that. But what if we made the farm kitchen our base? We can do the qualifications like health and hygiene we might need, both of us, and just start small, give it a try. Make some puddings to sell. Just have a think about it, yeah … And in the meanwhile, I’ll look into it some more.’ Rachel was trying to gauge her mum’s reaction, but Jill’s face was hard to read. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘It’s a lot to take