Christmas for Beginners - Carole Matthews Page 0,23
him as cool and untameable. To be honest, it’s why I love him too.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m in the alpaca stall rooting through their droppings as I bag them up. We sell the manure as fertiliser for gardens and as well as still trying to identify the Baby Jesus-eating culprit, I don’t want there to be a bag with bits of plastic doll in it. Tina, Johnny and Rod are watching me with great interest.
‘You’re all naughty,’ I tell them. ‘But that doesn’t mean I love you less.’
I turn as I hear a noise and Alan stands behind me. ‘Mayor’s here.’
‘Thanks, Alan.’ I stand and wipe my hands on my jeans. ‘Where is he? I’m dreading it.’
‘Behind you,’ Alan says and wanders off, giving a wave as he goes.
Slowly, I force myself to turn and there’s a slightly perplexed and rather attractive gentleman standing by the pen flanked by our honking guard geese. My face is now a nice shade of beetroot with embarrassment.
I look at him, suitably mortified. ‘I can only apologise.’
‘No problem.’
‘I’m so sorry that I didn’t realise you’d arrived. Usually, I hear a car horn.’
‘It looks as if you were preoccupied.’ The mayor nods towards my pile of alpaca poo.
‘I’m on a mission,’ I tell him. ‘It’s a long story.’
He holds out a hand for me to shake, but I show him my palms, which are caked with all kinds of unspeakable things.
‘Maybe not,’ he says with a smile and it’s really a very lovely smile. ‘I’m Matt Eastman.’
‘Molly Baker. I like to think I’m in charge here, but I’m never quite sure.’
He laughs and that makes me relax a bit. My only dealings with authority in recent times have been in connection with HS2 going through our land and I’m still feeling a bit bruised.
And you’ll have to excuse me if I sound a bit thick here, but I thought that all mayors looked like Jeremy Corbyn or had dandruff and bad beards. Not that my experience with mayors is extensive, or even minimal.
This mayor is dark-haired, tall and well-built in the manner of a seasoned rugby player. He looks as if he hasn’t shaved today and there’s a fine stubble on his chin. I also imagined that he’d rock up in his official robes and neck-chain but, instead, he’s all casual in a black polo-neck sweater under a khaki padded jacket. It suits him. His jean-clad legs are largely covered by a pair of green wellies that look like they’ve seen some action. His appearance is every inch the country squire rather than a townie council official. I’d guess he’s about the same age as me, late thirties, and seems to have a shy charm.
I climb out of the alpaca pen and clean my grubby hands with gel. The geese, happy that the mayor isn’t a threat to our safety, waddle away with more honking as they go. ‘Sorry, I should have been ready to greet you properly.’
‘I don’t stand on ceremony,’ he says. ‘I’ve been dying to get up here and have a look ever since Beverly Adams got in touch with me.’
‘Oh, Bev. She usually does anything that requires contact with the outside world. I prefer to hide away here with the animals.’
‘I can understand why,’ he says. ‘I was brought up on a farm and miss it terribly.’
‘Oh.’ Hadn’t expected that. ‘Whereabouts?’
‘A dairy farm in Lancashire.’
‘Ah. Now I recognise the accent.’
‘It’s had the edges knocked off it over the years. I’ve been down south since I left university and moved to London to work. I’ve lived round here for a while now, though.’ He looks around him. ‘Yet I had no idea that this place existed.’
‘Well, it’s our pleasure to welcome you to Hope Farm. Can I give you a tour?’
‘I’d like that.’
Just as I’m about to introduce the mayor to our atrociously behaved alpacas, Bev comes bustling over.
‘Hiya! Hiya!’ She’s slightly breathless and flustered. ‘Got caught up with making lunch. I only just found out you were here. I’m Bev. Pleased to meet you.’
I’ll swear she does a little curtsy. It reminds me of the time when Shelby first arrived at Hope Farm and Bev went completely ga-ga and turned into a teenager again. Then it makes me feel a little bit sad that things aren’t quite as they were.
The mayor smiles again. ‘Thanks for inviting me, Bev. This looks like a great place. Molly’s just about to give me a tour.’