Page 22 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

Pulling open the front passenger door, Nicola took a final look towards where Charlie had been standing, eyeing them as they got ready to leave. She really couldn’t read him. Normally, she was relatively good at measuring someone up, noticing the way they spoke, how they acted, even their stance, which gave her clues as to whether they were to be trusted, were kind, or the opposite, but she found she just couldn’t with Charlie. She’d been certain he’d never have relented into lending his tractors and trailers and yet here he was, even if he hadn’t had much choice in the matter of Miss Cooke turning up with the Meadowfield under fourteens’ netball team, but still, he’d agreed to it. And he’d helped her in her hour of need. She hadn’t envisioned that either.

She climbed the steps and laughed at herself. She hadn’t exactly read Nathan very well either, had she? Maybe her skills at reading people weren’t so great after all.

‘Where are Carrie and Harper?’ Miss Cooke’s shrill voice grew louder.

Nicola felt dread pooling in the bottom of her stomach. Carrie and Harper were the girls who had sniggered at Miss Cooke earlier, and the two she’d marked as being troublesome as soon as she’d seen them messing about with some tools that had been left next to the trailer. She looked around the farmyard, hoping they’d just been lingering somewhere chatting and hadn’t realised everyone else was now on the minibus, but the farmyard was empty. Even the hens had scarpered.

‘I think I saw them going towards the farmhouse a few minutes ago.’ One of the girls sitting closest to the door spoke up as she twizzled her dark hair around her finger.

‘You did? Why on earth didn’t you say anything?’ Miss Cooke huffed as she stepped back out of the minibus.

‘I’ll go and see if I can find them.’ Nicola climbed down out of the minibus and glanced around the farmyard again, relieved Charlie was nowhere to be seen. If the runaways could be found and returned without him realising, he might just keep to his promise of helping the cause of the carnival. If they couldn’t, they’d definitely be two floats down.

‘Yes, yes. Hurry up then. I’ll stay here with the others.’ Miss Cooke glanced behind her at the loaded minibus. ‘To supervise them.’

Nodding, Nicola let herself back through the gate into the farmyard and made her way in the direction of the large stone house which stood to the right. Why on earth would the girls have come over here? They’d been told to all stay together, and they’d been specifically instructed not to wander off. Charlie was right, this was a working farm, not a children’s playground.

She frowned as she walked towards the back of the house. A collection of outbuildings were clustered between the house and the field behind, as well as a row of small stone stables, unused by the looks of it, or at least not used to house horses any longer, and beyond them stood a smaller metal structured barn and a couple of wooden sheds.

The girls could be anywhere, and it would take her ages to search inside all these buildings. Glancing around her, Nicola quietly called out, ‘Carrie, Harper.’

It was no good. They wouldn’t be able to hear her. She knew that. Not unless they were super close, but if she called any louder, then she ran the risk of alerting Charlie to the fact he had two teenage girls running amok around his farm.

Making her way towards the row of stone stables, Nicola walked around the side of them, glancing behind to see if they were hiding there. Nope, apart from a small scrapyard of various metal farming equipment having either been dumped there through disuse or perhaps awaiting repairs, there was no sign of the girls. She’d have to check inside.

Just as she was walking back out into the farmyard, she came face to face with Charlie himself. Stopping in her tracks, she dug her hands into her pockets in the vain attempt to look as though she was – what? Casually snooping. She had no idea, but the longer she could prevent him realising that Carrie and Harper had done exactly the opposite of what he had instructed, the better.

Mirroring her, Charlie crossed his arms and harrumphed, his eyebrows raised in question.

Trying to keep her expression neutral, Nicola glanced behind her, buying her some time to think of a suitable excuse.

‘She’s already told me. That mayoress of yours.’ Charlie’s jaw flexed. ‘I saw the minibus was still parked up so went to find out why.’

‘She has?’ Nicola blinked.

‘She has, so I’m going to assume they’re not hiding behind the stables.’

‘Nope. They’re not behind there.’ Pulling her hands from her pockets, she scraped her hair back into a quick ponytail, glad she had the habit of wearing a hairband bracelet-style. ‘I’ll find them, though. Don’t worry, you can go back to your… umm, farming and I’ll make sure they get on the minibus.’

‘Just like you did the first time around?’ He tilted his head, eyeing her.

‘Well, no.’ Nicola sighed. She knew she’d be the one to take the blame. ‘It wasn’t my fault they decided to run off. They’re probably just exploring or have gone on a little walk or something.’

He shook his head. ‘I specifically said I didn’t want children running around the farm unsupervised. It’s not safe. They could be anywhere by now and doing anything.’

‘They won’t be. They’re thirteen, fourteen.’ She shrugged. She wasn’t sure, but they were around that age. ‘They’re old enough to know not to touch anything they shouldn’t.’

‘Just like they’re old enough to follow instructions, you mean?’

She flared her nostrils. She wanted to be here as much as he wanted to participate in the carnival preparations. She didn’t ask for this to happen and, ultimately, she wasn’t responsible for the girls having run off.

Stepping around him, she pulled open the first stable door, peering inside. The space was lit by the setting sun streaming in through a small window but all it illuminated was more farming paraphernalia. No netball players. Stepping back outside, she pulled the door firmly shut.

‘Don’t they have mobiles you could ring? I thought all teenagers had one permanently glued to their palms nowadays?’ He followed her towards the middle door of the stable block.

‘I don’t know. Maybe, go and ask Miss Cooke. They’re part of her netball team, after all. I don’t have anything to do with them.’ She pushed the door before ramming it with her shoulder as it stuck. She hadn’t noticed any mobiles on the minibus, but even if they did have one, would Miss Cooke have their phone numbers? Pushing against the door again, it finally gave way, and she half fell inside, quickly reaching out her hand to steady herself.

‘That might be worth a shot, mightn’t it? Rather than wandering aimlessly around the farm.’ He held the door open for her as she walked further inside as he continued, sarcasm lacing his words, ‘It might take a while to cover two hundred acres of farmland. Might even take us up until the day of the carnival.’

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