Page 44 of Daydreams at the Farm on Muddypuddle Lane
‘So? You are my girlfriend. I love you.’ He swallowed. ‘I know you accused me of being a lying, cheating ratbag—’
‘You are!’ Beth shouted.
‘But I haven’t cheated or lied,’ he insisted.
Beth yelled, ‘You’re still a ratbag!’
‘Mum! Stop it.’
‘Well, he is! He’s cost you your job.’ Her mum came to stand beside her and tried to elbow her out of the way. Maisie stood her ground.
‘Is that true?’ Adam asked.
‘Yes, it is,’ Beth said. ‘And she’s going home with me tomorrow, as Dulcie is throwing her out.’
Dulcie called, ‘Stop exaggerating, Mum. I’m not throwing her out. It’s about time she went home.’
Beth said, ‘She’s outstayed her welcome and so have you. Go on, scoot. I told her you were a wrong ’un, and I was right. She can do better than the likes of you.’
Maisie wanted to tell her mum to bugger off. She wanted to tell Adam that he definitely wasn’t a wrong ’un, and that she absolutely couldn’t do any better, but she didn’t. She recalled how posh his mother’s accent was, the way she had spoken, her expensive clothes and the diamonds glinting at her throat and in her ears. Adam’s family were clearly wealthy, and because of her, his parents were threatening to disown him.
She couldn’t let that happen. He might think he didn’t care, but at some point hewould. And she had no intention of being the cause of a rift between Adam and his family.
She told him as much, then she closed the door as he tried to convince her he didn’t care about his parents. But hedidcare, and she knew she was doing the right thing.
Letting him walk away, shoulders hunched and head bowed after he had declared his love for her and had been rejected, was the hardest thing she had ever done.
As she lay awake all through the night, Maisie vowed never to let anyone else touch her heart the way Adam had. How could she, when it was shattered into hundreds of pieces and strewn across the misery that her life had become.
How do you carry on when the stuffing has been knocked out of you? One day at a time, Adam decided the next morning, after having absolutely no sleep whatsoever.
He hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, despite not actually having managed any sleep, but a sense of obligation to his client this morning forced him to move.
Not bothering with breakfast, he had a desultory shower to try to wash away the smell of despair that lingered on his skin, and it was only when he looked for his keys did he remember that he had left the van at his parents’ house and had been forced to use the spare key hidden under a pot at the rear of his flat to get in last night.
Damn and blast. He had no choice but to go fetch it. All he hoped was that his dad would have left for the office by the time he got there. In an ideal world, his mum would also be out, but he didn’t usually have that kind of luck.
He was debating whether he should phone for a taxi or walk, when movement outside his living room window made him pause. His van had pulled into the area in front of the garage, followed by his father’s car. He could see Mum in the driver’s seat, which must mean that his father had driven the van.
Oh, well, it saved him a journey, he supposed.
Hoping that his father would simply post the keys through the letter box and be on his way, he was disappointed when there was a knock on the door.
Reluctantly he went downstairs to answer it.
‘You look like death warmed up,’ his father observed. ‘I’ve brought you the van. I thought you might need it.’
‘Thanks.’
‘About yesterday evening... I meant what I said.’
Adam stared at him dully. He didn’t care whether they disowned him or not: the damage was done. Through his parents’ stupid insistence that he would grow out of wanting to mend machines and would come to work in the family business, they had managed to drive away the woman he loved. If his father hadn’t issued such a draconian ultimatum, and if Adam hadn’t told Maisie, she would still be in Picklewick.
Or would she?
With Dulcie ‘throwing her out’ and Maisie no longer having a job, she might have insisted on returning to Birmingham anyway. After all, she hadn’t said she loved him back, so that meant she probably didn’t.
He’d made a right fool of himself, hadn’t he?
