Let’s see what this mayor is really made of, I think, as I let our lovely pig and Fifty out of the pen. I give the mayor a bucket of pig nuts which will ensure that Teacup follows us. Fifty runs ahead with his awkward gait while Teacup totters after us – or, more accurately, after the pig nuts – as we walk along the track up to the muddy wallowing hole. I need to get some more pigs, I think. A curly tail corner would make everyone’s heart glad.
The mayor proves himself a natural with our porcine friend and Little Dog has already attached himself to Matt – and I think my dog is, generally, a very good judge of character. I think it will be a great addition to have the mayor around the farm. Look at the size of him for a start. He’s a man who could manage our massive Shire horses or sort out a stroppy sheep. It amazes me how comfortable I already feel with him, as that almost never happens.
When Teacup is settled in the wallow – literally as happy as a pig in muck – I take the mayor on a walk across the fields. Fifty turns and heads back towards the yard, clearly worried that he might miss something. We climb the stile and head towards the big field.
‘You’ve certainly got a beautiful piece of land here,’ he says. ‘No wonder you’re so happy.’
‘We were evicted from our previous farm to make way for HS2. Thankfully, my partner helped to save us.’ And I mustn’t ever forget how much Shelby has done for us. If he hadn’t stepped in we could have so easily gone under.
‘Does he live here too? I take it that’s your caravan I saw as I came in.’
‘Shelby has a home nearby,’ I say. ‘He works long hours so he’s not here as often as he’d like.’ Or, more accurately, as often as I’d like. ‘I live in the caravan with his son, Lucas. He came initially as a student and now works here. That’s how his father and I met.’ I see him frown. ‘It’s complicated, but somehow it works.’
‘Relationships seem to be these days,’ he agrees. ‘That’s why, at my grand age, I’m still free and single.’
As I said, I’d put him at less than forty, but you know what my judgement is like. Bev will find out. ‘You’ve never been married?’
‘No. Came close once, but I think I dodged a bullet there.’ There’s a sadness in his eyes when he says, ‘It didn’t feel like it at the time.’
‘I came to love late in life,’ I admit.
‘You’re lucky to have found it.’
‘I am. I was in very grave danger of turning into a mad old recluse who only had conversations with her dogs.’ Now look at me, chatting away on a very personal level with a complete stranger. Go me!
Our fields slope gently and I find the highest viewing point so that we can look over the land. ‘This is us,’ I say.
‘I love it.’ Matt Eastman is a little out of puff after the exertion. Perhaps he spends too much time behind a desk. ‘I’d give my right arm for a place like this.’
‘You’re welcome here any time you like,’ I tell him, earnestly. ‘Are you DBS checked?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s great.’ He’s had a screening so that means he can be around our vulnerable kids. ‘We are always grateful for a willing pair of hands.’
He grins. ‘You won’t be able to get rid of me now that I’ve found you.’
‘Good.’ I like the sound of that.
‘Thanks for taking the time to show me round.’ The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. He has a genuine, open face. I like him. And you know that I’m not all that keen on people as a rule.
‘My pleasure. But we should get back. Bev will be dishing out lunch and she doesn’t take kindly to latecomers.’
‘I’ll race you,’ says the mayor and I’m so surprised at his challenge that he’s already taken off by the time I respond. So I chase after him and, with Little Dog barking excitedly, we run all the way back to the farmyard.
Chapter Seventeen
We’re still laughing when we burst through the door of the tea room and everyone turns around to look at us. I must also say at this point that I was the victor by the narrowest of margins.
‘Well done,’ the mayor says, panting.
‘I think you might have let me win there.’ I’m equally breathless.
‘Not at all,’ he insists. ‘You won fair and square.’ But I still think he’s fibbing.
We pull ourselves up short when we realise that everyone is staring at us and try to regain some decorum. Even Bev looks startled by our entrance.
‘Hi, everyone.’ I address the students who are sitting at the big table waiting for lunch. ‘This is Mr Eastman; he’s the mayor of our local town and he’s here today to have a look at what we do. He’s also very kindly agreed to come and turn on the Christmas lights at our open day.’
Some of our students clap excitedly and are as thrilled as if we had a pop star in the house. The rest are, of course, seriously underwhelmed. It would take an actual pop star in the house to get them interested – and not just a minor one, probably ‘like’ the whole of One Direction or Little Mix.
The tea room is warm and welcoming and there’s the appetising scent of Bev’s jacket potatoes in the air. We spend a lot of time in here with the students and want it to feel like a safe space, so we try to make it as comfortable as possible. Today, it looks especially pretty as the bunting the students have been making has been hung around the walls. It features pictures mostly taken by Tamara of the animals, students and farm activities. Surprisingly, it brings a lump to my throat to look at it. We do well here, I think. The smiling faces reflected back at me say that we’re making a difference. Some of these kids wouldn’t even talk when they arrived.
‘Do sit down,’ I say to the mayor. ‘This is Lucas, who I told you about.’
Lucas regards him with deep suspicion. If the mayor notices it, then he pretends not to and chats amiably to Lucas about what he’s seen on the farm. I think if anyone has the ability to relate to Lucas and grind him down then Matt does.
I take the chance to go and help Bev and Jack with serving.
‘How’s Hot Stuff?’ Bev whispers when I’m next to her.
‘He’s very nice,’ I whisper back. ‘Keen to help us and not just with the Christmas lights. He’d like to do something more permanent. Better than that, he’s got a farming background.’
‘Praise the Lord and all that’s holy,’ she says. ‘We need someone else on our board with a bit of clout now that Shelby is more absent than present.’ She raises her eyebrows at me.
‘I’m not sure what else I can do on that front.’
‘We’ll work on it,’ she promises. ‘But, for now, you can get that big spoon and start dishing up beans or we’ll be here all afternoon.’
Immediately, the mayor jumps up and comes to lend a hand, giving out plates to the students and cracking jokes. He has a natural way with him and it’s a wonder that he hasn’t got kids. He’d make a great dad. When he sits down again next to Lucas, he even manages to engage him in conversation and, as you know, that’s no mean feat. At one point he even makes Lucas laugh out loud and both Bev and I exchange a startled glance. I wonder what on earth he’s said to elicit that response.