Christmas at the Farmhouse - Rebecca Boxall Page 0,7

faced with someone new. I thought perhaps it would be the brother Mr Jenners had mentioned but as I approached the doorframe I saw a young lad sitting on the chair I’d just vacated. He had fair hair – blond curls cropped close to his head, which made him look endearingly like a sheep. He was about my age and was well turned out, but as he looked at me I couldn’t be sure if he was nice-looking or not for his features were obscured by the scowl on his face. Mr Jenners, turning to me, looked suddenly nervous.

‘Ah, Susan, this is my son, Robin – he’s back from the library earlier than I was expecting.’

‘Sorry to meddle with your plans,’ the boy said, not looking remotely sorry, and I wondered at his boldness in talking to a parent in such a way.

‘Not at all,’ replied Mr Jenners, forcing a smile. ‘Susan was just leaving.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I must be off. Thank you for the tea, Mr Jenners.’ As I spoke Robin looked as if my very voice was setting his teeth on edge. ‘Nice to meet you, Robin,’ I said politely but the boy just grunted rudely.

Mr Jenners gave me my coat and saw me to the front door where, rather unexpectedly, he moved his mouth towards my ear. He whispered into it, ‘I’ll let you know. About you know what.’ His breath in my ear felt hot and I felt my skin crawl.

‘Thanks,’ I said brightly, the falseness of my smile making my cheeks ache. As I left Number 6 Hartley Street behind me and started on my walk towards Penny’s farm, I found myself wishing that I’d never gone for that cup of tea; that I’d never found out Mr Jenners’ important secret. I breathed in a huge lungful of icy January air, trying to get rid of the feeling that something unsavoury had just happened to me, even though – in truth – nothing had happened at all.

Chapter Six

Thursday 5th December 2019

Jo – Presents

Half an hour after the bombshell, the mince pies saved from the Aga at the last minute, Freja gave us more news – as if the pregnancy wasn’t enough.

‘I’ve decided to move back home for a bit,’ she said. ‘Actually, I’ve got all my stuff in the Beetle. Dad, could you help me bring it in? Only I shouldn’t really be lifting stuff.’

I could just imagine how many times she’d be reminding us of that over the next few months. ‘Hang on, though,’ I said, sifting icing sugar over the cooling pies. ‘I thought you said we stifled your creativity! That was only six months ago. You wanted to move in with those people from your course so you’d be surrounded by like-minded – and I quote – “artistic spirits”.’

‘Mum, the baby changes everything,’ Freja replied. ‘Anyway, if I’m here then when I finish my foundation course in the summer at least you’ll be able to help with the baby. It’s due in July. In fact, I was going to ask if you could help out when I start my degree in September.’

‘You’re still going to university?’ Magnus asked, his brows knitted. His first thought on news of the pregnancy had probably been that he might be able to save himself some university tuition fees, particularly given that Freja would have to study on the mainland, which posed logistical problems if she was hoping for help with childcare.

‘We’re living in the age of “doing it all”,’ Freja replied. ‘Anything’s possible,’ she laughed and I wondered, partly awed and partly irritated, at the selfishness of kids these days. Our youngest child was in no doubt that her parents would accept this news of hers without judgement before lending as much support as she’d need both financially and in terms of babysitting. How different it had been fifty years ago when Magnus and I were born.

I dismissed such thoughts. Times change, after all, and generally for the better, though images of the longed-for month-long cruise Magnus and I had recently discussed flashed through my mind. I decided not to think about any of it until after Christmas.

‘Come on,’ I said, turning to Freja. ‘Let’s get your stuff in from the car before the rain starts. Then you can help me wrap presents.’

***

‘Shall I light the fire for you?’ Magnus asked, before checking his watch. ‘It’s only half past three but the rain’s just started and it feels much colder, doesn’t it? Then I really must