worry about it for weeks. Take someone who’ll enjoy it.’
He goes to argue, but then thinks better of it. ‘OK. But you’ll be there in spirit with me.’
‘I will.’
I don’t want things to be awkward between us, as I’ve come to rely on Matt and I want him in my life – as a friend. A dear friend.
‘I have been asked out on a date,’ he confides.
‘Oh.’
‘A teacher at the local primary school. I went into one of their assemblies recently. We hit it off and she asked me to go for a drink with her.’
How readily I can imagine that happening. He’s very easy to like.
‘Sounds promising.’ I sound as light as I can while acknowledging that it feels as if I’ve been stabbed in the heart.
‘If you don’t want to come, she might be a likely candidate for the ball?’
‘Sounds ideal,’ I agree, but the words almost stick in my throat.
He looks at me earnestly and it’s almost too much to bear. ‘Molly?’ A beat. ‘Is that really what you think I should do?’
This is a moment that could change our relationship for good and we both know it. We either step forward together or step back from the edge. Which is it to be? Do I go with Matt or do I watch from the sidelines while he goes with someone else?
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Go for it!’ I force a bright smile.
He looks at me and I can’t read his expression. Is it sadness I see or acceptance of our situation? Shelby will be coming home soon and I think that’s a good thing. Absence should make the heart grow fonder but, at the moment, it just seems to be making our life more difficult. Surely it will be better when he’s back.
‘Thanks for your advice,’ Matt says and there’s a resigned note in his words. ‘I’ll call her.’
‘Great. Let me know how you get on.’
‘Friends,’ Matt says.
‘Friends,’ I echo.
But I think that both of us have the feeling that we have lost a little bit of something unspoken.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Finally, it’s our Christmas Open Day. It seems to have been ages in the making and now, suddenly and in a last minute rush, it’s here. And I can’t tell you how nervous I am. I’m not comfortable with people at the best of times and yet we’ve got a crowd of them arriving today. I’m worried about how we’re going to keep them all entertained, while being equally worried that they won’t show up at all. The weather forecast is perfect, but what if they’re wrong and it pours down? That won’t feel very festive. I didn’t sleep a wink all last night dwelling on everything that could go wrong, all the things I can’t control, my animals being top of the list. I know. I can’t help it. Call me a fatalist.
I’m up before dawn and, as I have done every day for the last week, I throw up in the loo, trying to be as quiet as I can so that Lucas doesn’t hear. I’ve yet to tell him my news. Only Bev knows. But is this down to stress or morning sickness? I don’t know. I look in the mirror and can see the start of a tiny bump, so small it’s barely there. Is it a baby or could it simply be due to Bev force-feeding me mince pies on a daily basis?
I have no time to consider my predicament now. A few minutes later and I’m in my coat and wellies and out on the farm. Can’t hang about today. Places to go, things to do, stuff to stress about. So far, the forecast is right. It’s a bright, sunny day, but it’s so cold that I can see my breath on the air.
Grabbing some buckets, I fill them from the food bins before heading into the barn. Everyone gets a little bit of extra grub to see them through the cold winter months.
‘Morning, everyone,’ I say. ‘Breakfast is ready.’ I hold out a bucket for the alpacas, who nearly pull me over in their enthusiasm. ‘I need you lot in particular to be on your best behaviour. Remember what that is?’
Tina flicks her pom-pom hair at me.
‘Just try, for once,’ I say. ‘Would it kill you?’
I move on to give our sheep their breakfast. Fluffy gets a little bit of extra ‘extra’. I’m feeling great empathy with her at the moment.
‘We’re in this together,’ I whisper to her as she turns