I could swing for Shelby. Yet still my instinct is to phone him and check that he’s OK. My heart says that I should apologise, but my head says it wasn’t me who was in the wrong. I’ll talk to Bev first; she’s more worldly in these ways than I am. In the meantime, despite my heavy heart, I have animals to feed who don’t care if I’ve had a lovers’ tiff and am feeling utterly wretched.
I dress and go out to the barn and Lucas trails after me, face like thunder. I fear it’s going to be a long day.
‘We’ve got the people for the mental health outreach in today,’ I remind him. ‘Are you going to help us?’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Just tell me what you want doing.’ But his voice is flat and his body language is projecting extreme reluctance.
We set to with our morning tasks and, despite both Lucas and me being on auto-pilot, the animals don’t care. They’re still inordinately pleased to see us – albeit because we’re bearing buckets of food. It’s not long before they work their magic, and after I’ve fussed and fed the alpacas, pigs, sheep and bunnies, I’m feeling in a much better place. Lucas is whistling softly to himself, so I hope that means he is too.
It’s not long before Bev and Alan arrive. And this is how upset Lucas and I are – we haven’t even discussed what their matching band T-shirts might be today. They are both sporting a picture of The Cure, if you’d like to know.
Lucas says, ‘I’ve no clue who the band are, but I really like that bloke’s hair and make-up.’
‘Robert Smith, style icon,’ Bev informs us.
Lucas looks suitably impressed. I can see the guy-liner coming out later. That might cheer him up.
Bev gives me a hug. ‘You two both look like you were on the razzle-dazzle-do last night.’
‘Hardly,’ I say. ‘We didn’t have our best evening ever, did we, Lucas?’
‘No,’ he agrees. ‘Mainly due to that tit of a father of mine.’
‘It’s a long story,’ I tell Bev. ‘One best told over a cup of tea.’
‘I’m going to finish off the feed,’ Lucas says. ‘I’ll be up with the horses if you need me when the depressed people arrive.’
‘Lucas,’ I admonish.
He shrugs at me. Political correctness is obviously not high on his agenda today.
‘Come back for a cup of tea as soon as you’re done. It’s cold out.’ I feel as if I want to mollycoddle Lucas which, of course, he pretends to hate. ‘You’ll need some sustenance before we round up the animals for a walk.’
Getting any of them into a harness is always a challenge.
With a quick and cursory ‘morning,’ to no one in particular, Alan disappears into the depths of his workshop where he’s always happiest – though it is hard to tell. I follow Bev into the tea room. The students haven’t yet arrived, so we have time to take a few minutes to have a catch-up. Usually, it’s to do with the day’s activities and not a spectacular nose-dive in my love life.
I sit on a stool at the counter while Bev clatters about with the cups and the kettle, she says, ‘OK, then. Tell Aunty Beverly why you look like you’ve found a pound and lost a fiver.’
I puff out a disgruntled breath before launching in. ‘Lucas brought his girlfriend – who he insists isn’t his girlfriend – home last night for the first time. It had all gone quite well and then Shelby turned up unexpectedly as she was leaving. Within minutes it had all kicked off. Lucas didn’t want her to meet his dad. Shelby said all the wrong things. I was in trouble too for letting the dogs sleep on the bed and, before I knew it, he’d packed his stuff and had stomped off back to the manor house.’
‘No wonder Lucas is fuming,’ she says.
‘I’m treading a fine line between them. Lucas doesn’t want Shelby involved in his life and when Shelby does crash in he makes a complete hash of it. I’m so annoyed that he never learned how to handle his own son.’
‘Or his partner?’
That makes me smile. ‘That too.’
‘Let him stew,’ Bev says as she pushes a mug of builder-strength tea towards me. ‘Don’t you be phoning him.’
‘I hate there being bad feeling between us.’
‘It’s up to him to come and sort this out. He’ll be back with his tail between his legs. Trust me, he won’t be gone for good.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ We owe a lot to Shelby here and I don’t want to lose sight of that.
Bev joins me on the next stool. ‘So Lucas has a girlfriend?’
‘Someone he met at his poetry club. Aurora. But he insists she’s just a friend.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Very pretty, confident, polite. She’s quite sophisticated. I’m just a little bit worried that she’s a few years older than him, but Lucas is clearly very taken with her.’
‘Oh, bless him.’
‘Yes, they look very cute together.’
‘Ah, young love,’ she coos. ‘There’s nothing like it.’
‘Except finding love when you’re old and think you’re past it.’
‘Are you talking about you or me?’ Bev wants to know.
I laugh. ‘Both of us.’
My friend drains her tea and plonks the mug down. ‘I’d better go and see my lover,’ she says. ‘He’s making some bits for the nativity scene so that it looks more Bethlehem and less Buckinghamshire.’
‘I’ll drop in on him too later. Is it all coming along well? Please reassure me.’
‘It’s all fine and you seemed to be a big hit with our Hot Mayor yesterday. He was putty in your hands.’
‘He seems like a really nice guy.’ But we all know that I’m a terrible judge of people. ‘I hope we see some more of him, as promised.’
Bev kisses my cheek. ‘I’ll leave you to worry about that as you wait for the walkers. As soon as they’re here, they can have a cuppa while we harness the animals. In the meantime, I’ve got a load of tinsel to unload from the back of my car to pretty the place up.’
And worry I do, because until I’ve seen Shelby I won’t know whether or not it’s all over between us.
Chapter Twenty-One
Our morning is busier than usual. The timetable is all upside down for a start, which no one likes – many of our kids rely on the gentle routine we instil here. It takes me much longer than usual to settle our regular students to their lessons before a dozen people arrive for our first mental health walk. The idea is that we all take the animals on a stroll around the farm, giving our visitors a chance to just chat or air their troubles or lose themselves in hanging onto one of our four-legged charges – unless you count Big Dog who only has three legs.
For me, the influx of new people is a good thing. I’m so stretched that I don’t even have time to dwell on Shelby and what he may or may not be thinking.
The visitors have a cup of tea and we get out the good biscuits for them – in date and with chocolate on. Then we harness a few of the animals, which is often a bit of a trial. Today, they are all reasonably compliant – even Johnny Rotten doesn’t bolt when he sees his harness. When we introduce them to our group of eager walkers, none of the animals try to bite or back-heel our visitors. Small mercies.