Christmas at the Farmhouse - Rebecca Boxall Page 0,41

in tissue paper.

I opened it up to find a solid silver photo frame, the picture inside it a recent photograph of Robin. He wasn’t smiling in the picture (his father probably took it) but he looked devastatingly handsome, his head to one side and his hands nonchalantly in his trouser pockets.

‘Oh!’ I said, clasping it to my chest. ‘This is wonderful!’

‘He said the frame was the most precious thing he owned. His mum gave it to him for his first birthday, apparently, and underneath that recent photo is the picture she put in it – one of him as a baby with his mum. He wanted you to have it.’

‘Did he say anything else?’ I asked, hungry for details.

‘He said he’s working it all out. Said to be patient. He’s got a plan. And he wants to know why you’re not replying to his letters either.’

I frowned. ‘Maybe my father’s told Matron I’m not to receive or send any correspondence while I’m here? I wouldn’t put it past him. Oh well,’ I said, sighing. ‘I can be as patient as Robin likes, but time isn’t going to wait for this little one.’ I patted my stomach.

‘What’s it like?’ Penny asked. ‘Having a baby in there?’

‘Funny. I can feel it moving now. Kicking and rolling. My father’s said the baby’s got to be adopted the day after it’s born, so I don’t get attached, but it’s too late for that. I’ve bonded already.’

‘You won’t know this if you haven’t received my letters, but my father went to have a chat with yours about it all, a couple of weeks after you’d gone – soon after I’d found out everything from Robin.’

‘He did?’ I asked, surprised. Penny’s dad was a taciturn farmer who adored his family and took great care of his pets and livestock, and I couldn’t begin to imagine him having a conversation with my suburban, acerbic father.

‘My mum and dad chatted it all through. Dad went to your parents with an offer to have you and the baby come and live with us all at the farm.’

‘Oh, Penny! What a generous offer!’

‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ she said, a grim a look on her face. ‘Your father said he didn’t want you returning to Silverhurst with a child in tow, sullying his good name. He said the only way he’d allow it would be if my family moved away. But you know how it is, that farm’s been in our family for generations. I’m afraid Dad won’t move. Much as we all want to help.’

I sat back in my chair, feeling hopeless. ‘It was good of you to try.’

‘I’m sorry for you,’ Penny said. ‘But I honestly think Robin will work something out. He’s got a determined look about him.’

‘Will you do me a favour?’ I asked her as the bell rang to signal that visiting time was over.

‘Course,’ Penny agreed, putting on a lovely powder-blue jacket with enormous buttons.

‘Will you go to the library and find Robin and tell him thank you. For the photo. Tell him I’ll treasure it. And tell him about the letters not getting in or out and that I’m waiting for him. That I believe in him. But that he needs to hurry up!’

Penny laughed. ‘I’ll tell him,’ she promised and she hugged me. When she stepped back I saw that, most unlike her, my friend suddenly had tears in her eyes. ‘I hate to leave you here,’ she said.

‘I’m alright,’ I promised her. ‘I’ve made a friend. I’ve got used to it. But I can’t give up this baby.’

Penny sighed. ‘It’s a cruel world,’ she said. I watched her leave the visitors’ room and then I went and stood at the window and saw her hurry to her father’s truck. I had to fight an urge – an instinct – that was telling me to run right then. To throw myself into the back of that truck travelling to Silverhurst and head straight home to the boy I loved.

Chapter Twenty-three

October 1969

Susan

‘How you getting on with your baby box?’ Janet asked me, as we sat near the fire in the rec room, knitting away. Janet hadn’t improved despite the lessons I’d given her. A surly girl with ginger curls called Esme sat next to Janet but, as she never said much, we ignored her.

‘It’s the matinee jacket that’s fiddly,’ I said. ‘The shawl’s done now and the little hat. I’ve put them in my box; I’ve decorated it with some nice paper. How’s