Page 5 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

Looking from Jill to Miss Cooke and back again, Nicola could sense the tension hanging between them. Jill had been planning the carnival for over ten years now, since taking over from Paddy, who had decided to stop heading the community hub when he’d retired from running Meadowfield’s Post Office. It was her pride and joy, so Nicola could just imagine how Jill must be feeling to have Miss Cooke sweep in and ‘help’ before she’d asked her to. Yes, as Meadowfield’s mayor and resident busybody, Miss Cooke had always ‘helped’ or, more truthfully, interfered in all aspects of village life, but since announcing the beginning of her retirement and cutting her hours at the grocery store, it seemed she had more time on her hands and poor Jill was suffering the brunt of it. ‘That’s one thing off the list, then. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’ Nicola asked.

Jill blinked before picking up her notebook again. ‘Umm… let me just see.’

‘The only farm I didn’t get around to visiting was Little Mead Farm at the edge of the village. I tried to call the farm too, but there was no answer.’ Seemingly oblivious to Jill’s discomfort, Miss Cooke continued. ‘Do you know it, Nicola? Over the little bridge? On the right?’

‘Yes, I know the one. We used to go scrumping for apples there, didn’t we?’ She smiled towards Jill and Rachel, both of whom had grown up in Meadowfield alongside Nicola. ‘I’d be happy to go.’

‘That’s right. And then we’d bring them back here and your mum would help us make apple crumble.’ Rachel grinned.

‘I remember.’ Jill nodded and turned to Nicola. ‘That would be great, thanks, Nic.’

‘And the Watsons’ farm. Thomas and Sheila were out when I popped by and he never answers his phone.’ Miss Cooke raised her eyebrows as if such a thing was unheard of.

‘No problem.’ Picking up the teapot, Nicola left them to continue their meeting.

3

Bumping her Fiat into the driveway of Little Mead Farm, Nicola pulled the handbrake up and turned off the ignition. She’d already visited the Watsons: Sheila and Thomas Watson had been only too happy to agree to lend Meadowfield the use of their two tractors and trailers and they’d even offered to help decorate the trailers if they had a spare few minutes.

She checked her watch. Trixie would be demanding her dinner right about now. Nicola always wondered how a cat could read a clock, but if any evidence was needed to prove they could, it would be Trixie’s impeccable timekeeping skills. She began to meow and fuss for breakfast, dinner and her evening treat at exactly six thirty each day, down to the second. Still, Farmer Williams had always been the kindest of the local farmers, the one who had always turned a blind eye to their scrumping and playing amongst the hay bales during harvest. He’d even taught her and Jill how to ride his pony one summer. So she was sure there would be no problem with him lending them the tractors and trailers, meaning poor starving Trixie wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

Nicola smiled. It would be nice to catch up with him. Whilst working under Nathan, she’d not had the time to keep in touch with many people. Yes, they’d lived in their cottage on the outskirts of Meadowfield, but she’d spent most of her time at work, shackled to her desk in a bid to try to prove to everyone else at the firm that she wasn’t just there because she was in a relationship with the boss, that she could in fact do her job and do it well, at that.

Giving a hollow laugh, she shook her head. She’d spent more time at the office than he had himself. No wonder, as he’d had to split his time between her and Kerry for the last two years. Now that must have been a task in itself, sharing his time and keeping track of the lies he was spinning to her.

Sighing, she swung the car door open and took a deep breath, the warm evening air laced with the smell of hay and fertiliser bringing memories of long, evening bike rides with Jill and her other friends to the forefront of her mind. Nathan was in her past now and she was rebuilding her life. She needed to remember to focus on the future.

Yes, she had a lot to look forward to. She loved working with Laura at Pennycress Inn and the hours, although long, weren’t as crazy as when she worked for Nathan, so she had more time to spend with her mum and with her social circle. Life was good.

After walking up to the old gate to the farmyard, Nicola leaned her elbows on the top rung and called out, ‘Farmer Williams! Are you about?’ Looking across to the huge barn to her left, she tilted her head and listened. She was sure she’d heard something. Maybe he was in there?

Pulling up the latch of the gate, she creaked it open, careful to shut it behind her quickly as a flock of hens hurried towards her, busying themselves around her ankles, pecking at the slabs beneath their feet in the hopes of finding some forgotten corn.

‘Farmer Williams?’ She felt daft calling out the name she’d always called him as a child, but even now, she wasn’t sure of his first name. ‘Farmer Williams, are you here?’

Another thud sounded from inside the barn. This time, it was followed by a loud scraping noise. He must be in there.

Heading to the large barn, she paused outside the door and shouted for him again. She didn’t want him to think she was still like her thirteen-year-old self, who he’d caught scrumping apples from his orchard. In that moment, all thoughts of him ringing the police and having her, Jill and the other people they were with hauled into the back of a police car had terrified her. As it turned out, he’d been more than happy to let them while away the summer holidays in the orchard and take apples home. His only stipulation had been that her mum made him an apple crumble every so often, which she’d been more than happy to oblige with.

Just as she was about to open the door, Nicola was thrown back as it swung towards her, almost knocking her off her feet. Regaining her balance, she watched as a sheep raced across the yard; the hens scurrying in all directions to avoid the fluffy animal.

‘That’s it, you scram, and good riddance,’ a voice growled from inside.

Nicola watched as the sheep, suitably startled, shoved her head through the metal bars of the gate, obviously trying to escape. Stepping forward, gingerly this time, she peered inside the dimly lit barn. ‘Farmer Williams?’

‘What?’ The gruff voice belonged to a tall, muscular man wearing jeans and a white vest covered in more hay than was strewn on the barn floor.

‘Oh, er, I was looking for Farmer Williams. Sorry, I didn’t mean to let your sheep escape. I’ll go and fetch her.’ She indicated behind her.

‘Don’t bother. It’s not mine. The damn thing keeps eating my hay.’ He placed his hands on his hips and scowled in the direction the sheep had run. ‘If I get my hands on the thing, I can assure you it’d make a good addition to my Sunday roast.’

‘Oh.’ Nicola looked around the huge barn, which was crammed to the roof with hay bales. Surely one little sheep wouldn’t make a dent in the amount here. ‘Why don’t you just catch it and put it back with your other sheep?’

‘Because this is a damn agricultural farm, not a sheep farm.’ He shook his head at her, as though the fact was obvious.

‘Right, of course.’ She should have known. The orchard, the fields around the farmhouse. Apart from the hens in the yard, there were no other animals visible.

‘So?’ Shifting his feet, he crossed his arms as he glared at her.

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