Page 17 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
Amos tapped the side of his nose. ‘This and that,’ he said, ‘nothing important. I do have a favour to ask, though? I wondered if I might borrow your iPad for five minutes later. I want to check something on the internet.’
‘Of course, just help yourself whenever. There’s nothing incriminating on there, unless you count my appallingly bad score on Candy Crush. It’s not locked either.’
Amos nodded his thanks and carried on eating.
Freya had to admit that she did feel better after the food, but she wasn’t sure she could face another session up in the attic. Things had been just a little too close to home at times.
‘Shall we get rid of the rubbish before we carry on, do you think?’
‘Amos and I will do that,’ said Sam. ‘You’re going to put your feet up for a bit. And don’t argue,’ he continued, seeing the look on her face. ‘There’s no point killing yourself on the first day. Besides which I need to run a few errands while we’re out.’
They’d already done two laborious journeys with armfuls of stuff before Freya realised what they were doing. She straightened up from the dishwasher where she was stacking the last of the plates.
‘Erm, how are you going to get all that stuff to the tip?’ she asked.
Sam looked at her as if she were deranged. ‘In the van,’ he said slowly.
‘Yes, I know that, but it doesn’t matter how it gets there, does it? I mean you’re just going to throw it all in higgledy piggledy?’
Sam scratched his head. ‘Pretty much,’ he said, clearly wondering if there was any other way.
‘Okay, come with me.’ She led the way back upstairs, passing Amos on the landing with another load. ‘About turn,’ she said, ‘and bring that lot with you.’
‘No, I haven’t got a clue what she’s talking about either,’ muttered Sam, ‘but I would do as she says.’
Back in the attic, Freya crossed to one of the large windows overlooking the front lawn. The van was parked in the yard, neatly to one side.
‘Could one of you open the window please?’
Sam and Amos exchanged more looks, but Amos did as she asked, moving the catch on the sash and pushing the window open as far as it would go.
‘Now just throw.’
‘Pardon?’ said Amos.
‘It’s a hell of a lot quicker than carrying it all down two flights of stairs. Just throw. It’s all rubbish anyway, what harm is it going to do?’
‘You’re mad,’ grinned Sam, ‘but I kind of like your thinking. Wheelbarrow to the van at the other end, done in a flash.’ He picked up an armful of clothing and hurled it out of the window. ‘That’s strangely satisfying.’ He laughed.
‘Ruthless you said,’ fired back Freya. ‘So I give you ruthless.’ And with that, she left them to it, smiling to herself all the way downstairs as she listened to the gales of laughter floating after her.
* * *
Freya was still asleep by the time they got back, right where Sam had left her, tucked up under a blanket on the sofa. He’d putLove Actuallyon the DVD before he left, but it had long since finished, the final credits frozen onto the silent screen. He watched her for a moment, his eyes soft in the dim light, before rejoining Amos in the kitchen.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ he asked. Amos’ head was bent over the iPad.
‘Yeah, getting there. Just looking at a few things. Does the name Paul Streatfield mean anything to you?’
Sam came to sit beside him so that he could see the screen. ‘I don’t think so, why?’
‘It’s just a name I’ve heard your brother use a few times now, that’s all. It pricked my interest.’
‘Who is he, anyway?’ asked Sam.
‘A property developer – look.’ Amos angled the screen towards Sam so that he could get a better look.
Sam pulled the iPad closer and studied it for a moment before gazing back at Amos and echoing his worried frown.
