Page 84 of A Forever Home at Honey Bee Croft

‘How is he today?’ I asked. I’d visited again on Wednesday afternoon after setting up my doorbell camera, but I’d given yesterday a miss.

‘Not so good. He’s still in bed. He’s developed a cough so we’re keeping a close eye on him.’

I knocked on Dad’s door and pushed it open. He was facing the window, but he turned his head slowly when I greeted him. He looked exhausted, dark patches below his pale, watery eyes.

‘How are you this morning, Stanley?’ I asked.

His lips moved but nothing coherent came out.

‘I’m Poppy,’ I said, ‘and this is my boyfriend, Joel. Is it okay if we sit with you for a while?’

The movement of his head was imperceptible, but his eyes flicked towards the chair beside his bed. I sat down and Joel perched on the arm.

Dad unfurled his hand and the felt robin was resting in his palm.

‘That’s a beautiful bird,’ Joel said. ‘What sort is it, Stanley?’

‘Robin,’ he whispered before coughing.

There was a jug of water next to his bed, so we helped prop him up on his pillows and I sat beside him with a glass, holding it to his lips as he sipped. How many times had I done this for Mum when her muscles had been so wasted that she’d been unable to do it herself?

We only stayed twenty minutes as it was clear Dad needed his sleep, but that was enough time to see why Marnie had said weeks instead of months. Whatever had brought him to life on Tuesday – and even to some extent for my Wednesday visit – had gone and the frail man in the bed today was the reality of what this disease had done to him.

‘That was hard to see,’ Joel said, hugging me tightly by the van a little later. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through.’

I couldn’t speak for my tears so I just held on to him, so grateful to him for being here with me.

I’d brought the van with me so I could drive us straight over to Saltersbeck Farm to introduce Joel to Sharon, Ian and Bertie, who all gave him a warm welcome. As we returned to the van to drive to Honey Bee Croft, Sharon hugged me and whispered in my ear, ‘He’s wonderful, honey. I’m so happy for you.’ It meant the world to me to have her stamp of approval.

‘Are you ready to get kitted up and meet the bees?’ I asked Joel as I parked the van at the entrance to Honey Bee Croft.

‘I think so.’

Joel was taller and broader than Dad but beesuits weren’t exactly a snug fit and he’d tried on one of Dad’s this morning, which had enough space for him to move easily.

‘Tomorrow’s the first day of spring but the weather’s still too cold for any major external activity so it’ll be my usual checks of hefting and removing the dead bodies.’

I’d talked Joel through the anatomy of a hive using the colourful images in one of my favourite textbooks but the best learning always took place by an actual hive. As I explained to Joel what I was doing and why, it struck me that I’d never taught anyone before. I’d never needed to. Dad had taught Sharon and Ian the basics years ago so they could take over when he was on holiday, but I’d never passed on my knowledge and it was really exciting. Joel was a quick learner and he asked me a stack of questions, giving me a glimpse into what it must have been like when Dad taught me.

‘I loved that,’ Joel said, stepping out of his beesuit back at the van.

‘You sound surprised.’

‘I am. It’s fascinating and I love how knowledgeable and passionate you are. I can’t wait to see one of the hives open.’

‘I can’t wait to show you.’

Driving back to Dove Cottage, I shared with Joel some of my most special memories of being at Honey Bee Croft with my parents, how excited Dad and I got identifying the different worker bees and the thrill of opening a healthy hive. From Joel’s initial reaction, I could see him getting hooked just like Dad and me.

We hadn’t been home for long when the doorbell rang. It felt cool inside the house so Joel had gone upstairs to get a hoodie.

‘That’ll be Wilf with Benji,’ I shouted up to him.

But it wasn’t them. My heart started pounding.

‘Whose car’s that?’ Damon demanded.

‘None of your business.’

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