Page 12 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

‘Okay, thanks again. I’d better go.’

‘Yep. Have a good evening. Bye.’

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Nicola looked at the side gate. She hadn’t used it in so long, ivy had grown over the hinges and stretched across to the other side. Setting her jaw, she stepped forward. She’d need her bike until she sorted out the mess with Nathan and she certainly didn’t want to wheel it through the cottage. That was if she could even locate it in the shed after she’d fought her way through the web defences the village spiders had created.

6

Leaning her rusty old bike up against the metal fencing of Little Mead Farm, Nicola wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, streaking sweat, remnants of fine webbing and dust across her skin. She didn’t care though, she just wanted to get this over and done with so she could huff and puff her way back home before curling up in front of her TV and forgetting about just how much of a mess her life was in. For just a moment.

She grabbed her handbag, which she’d hung over the handlebars, flicking away the pink handlebar tassels of her youth. With every bump and dip in the road on the way over, her bag had jammed into her thigh. She’d just have to remember to hang it over the other handlebar on the way home. At least she’d end up with symmetrical bruises that way.

Walking up to the gate, she shouted, ‘Farmer Williams!’ The name sounded strange now she knew it wouldn’t be the original Farmer Williams she’d always known and loved responding to her calls. Still, as long as his grumpy nephew heard her, that was all she really cared about.

Of course, the way her luck was going this evening, it would have been too simple if he’d heard her and came to talk. Instead, she clicked the gate open and let herself through, causing a stir amongst the hens who scurried towards her.

‘Hello, girls. Where’s that horror of a man who feeds you?’

‘I’m here.’

Nicola jumped and spun on her heels, coming face to face with the younger Farmer Williams. She knew she should feel embarrassed, or at least a little self-conscious of the fact she’d just so blatantly insulted him, but she’d had enough this evening. She’d had enough of people thinking they could pull the strings and force her hand. She’d had enough of Nathan, the tow truck driver and men in general, and the last thing she wanted to do was to be forced to go back and disappoint Jill.

She glanced him up and down. Jeans, checked shirt, much in the same style his uncle used to wear, and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. He’d had the decency to put a shirt on today, then? Even if yesterday’s scowl was still reluctantly glued to his face. Huh, it was probably a permanent fixture. From the little she knew of him, anyway. ‘Evening.’

She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek as she felt a drop of sweat drip from her hair. If it wasn’t so hot, she might have actually enjoyed the bike ride out here. Or at least not hated every single second of it as much as she had.

‘You’re back.’ He slowly finished his sandwich before rubbing his hands together and crossing his arms.

‘Yes, I’m back. I wondered if you’d changed your mind about lending the village two of your tractors and trailers for the carnival. Please.’ She forced the last word.

‘Nope.’ Looking down, he picked at a crumb from the front of his shirt and flicked it in the direction of the hens pecking the ground around them.

There it was again. The same bubbling of anger she’d felt when she’d spoken to Nathan on the phone earlier. Just as Nathan had manipulated her, had turned her life upside down by going back on their agreement and refusing to pay back what he owed her, this man, Farmer Williams’ nephew, was intent on ruining the carnival for the whole village, and for what? To make a stance? To prove he was an idiot? She didn’t have a clue. What she did know was that she needed to try to remain calm. Despite his behaviour and obvious lack of caring or interest, she needed to keep her cool.

‘The thing is, as I told you yesterday, your uncle was one of the founding members of Meadowfield’s carnival and I know it meant an awful lot to him, so if?—’

‘You’re trespassing on my land to tell me what you think my uncle felt about the village carnival?’ He looked pointedly at her trainers.

Turning, she let herself out of the gate, closed it behind her and faced him again. ‘Better?’

‘I think you’ll find you’re still on my property and your…’ He blinked as he looked at her bike. ‘Is that seriously your bike? It looks as though it should belong to some teenage girl from the nineties.’

‘Yes, it’s mine.’ She pursed her lips.

‘Handlebar tassels and are those… Boyzone stickers on the frame?’ He stepped closer, leaning down slightly to inspect it.

She clenched her hand around the strap of her handbag. ‘That’s no concern of yours.’

Standing up, a flicker of a smirk flashed across his face, before he focused on her again. ‘And it’s no concern of yours if I choose to loan my farming equipment to you or not.’

‘But it’s not for me, it’s for the village! It’s for the clubs and the groups who always participate and create a float for the carnival. The day brings in thousands of people from the local towns and villages, as well as tourists to the area. It’s good for business.’

‘It’s not good for my business, though, is it?’ Shifting position, he widened his stance. ‘I’d have to lose out on a day without the tractors, a week or so without the trailers, not to mention the fact you want to poach my staff, too. How is the farm supposed to survive if all I do is lend out equipment and workers?’

‘It’s one day for the tractors and drivers. And I’ve already told you I can arrange for your trailers to only be needed for a few days. And it’s once a year.’ She held up her hand, pointing her index finger up to the sky. ‘One carnival, once a year.’

‘You’re going to have to make other arrangements.’ Shaking his head, he turned and began walking away.

Narrowing her eyes, she spoke through gritted teeth as she grabbed her bike. ‘You’re all the same.’

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