‘Did you have a great time?’ Matt asks.
‘It was like the curate’s egg,’ I admit. ‘Good in parts.’
‘Panto is shit,’ is Lucas’s more succinct verdict. ‘Never am I ever going to see it again even if my old man is in it.’
‘I don’t mind a bit of panto,’ Matt says.
‘The show was good, funny,’ I tell him. ‘The rest of it was a bit . . . complicated.’
‘Ah.’ He doesn’t press the matter.
‘How’s everything here?’
‘All present and correct,’ he says. ‘We only had one minor hiccup. Betty Bad Dog ate all my used tea bags from the draining board, but she’s lived to tell the tale.’
‘A favourite habit,’ I say. ‘I should have mentioned it.’
Betty wags her tail innocently.
‘They all slept on the bed with me, too,’ Matt says. ‘That was interesting. I’ve never woken up with a dog on my head before. It was an experience.’
‘I hope it was Little Dog rather than Big Dog.’
‘We had fun didn’t we, guys?’ They all go into a frenzy of barking. He’s obviously their new best friend and I wonder how many treats they had while I was away. There’s some serious bonding gone on.
Ken flips the boot and gives us our overnight bags.
‘Can’t thank you enough, Ken.’
‘I’ll see you soon, Molly.’ He ruffles Lucas’s hair. Which Lucas hates, except when a few favoured people do it – Ken being one of them. ‘Be good. Or, if you can’t be good, be really awful.’
They high-five each other. Then we stand and wave as Ken drives away. I watch as the car trundles down the lane and turns into the road.
‘Thank fuck that’s over,’ Lucas says and stomps off toward the caravan.
I have to agree with him. I’m relieved that our adventure is over too.
‘I have a few surprises for you,’ Matt says as he takes my bag from me.
‘I’m not sure I can cope with surprises,’ I warn him.
‘These are nice surprises,’ he assures me. ‘You’ll definitely like them.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
I follow Matt to the tea room and as he throws open the door I recoil. All the students shout ‘Merry Christmas!’
Then I stare at him in awe. ‘You’ve all been busy.’
‘I hoped it would be completely finished, but you came back a bit earlier than I thought.’
The tea room has been draped with Christmassy bunting made in red, green and gold. It looks like the kids have each decorated their own as the style is definitely eclectic. In the corner of the tea room, there’s another large tree, hung with handmade baubles.
Gaping, I try to take in all of their handiwork. ‘How did you do this? When did you do this?’
‘We got cracking as soon as you left and they put in some extra time too,’ Matt says. ‘Everyone came in early today and we worked our socks off this morning, didn’t we kids?’
‘This is fantastic. Well done, everyone.’ The kids are giddy with excitement and I feel a thrill of joy too. Maybe now Christmas has finally kicked in. ‘Give yourselves a round of applause.’
So we all clap and Matt shouts out, ‘Guys! There are biscuits and hot chocolate at the counter. Help yourselves.’ As one, the kids dash over there to swamp Jack, who’s on duty.
But the very best thing of all is that Alan and Bev are here decorating the tree too. I’m just so relieved to see them both, and I fly across the room to hug Alan. ‘How are you?’
‘Good.’ He looks tired, a little more fragile, his band T-shirt hangs more loosely. But he’s here and standing.
Lucas comes in and gapes at the decorations. ‘Wow. You lot have been busy. We’ve only been gone one night. It’s totally cool.’
The students glow from his approval.
Bev, at the top of the ladder, replies, ‘The kids did most of this, under Matt’s supervision.’
I turn to Matt again. ‘I don’t know how you managed it.’
‘With some skill and much subterfuge,’ he says. ‘They’ve been brilliant. How they kept it a secret, I’ll never know. I thought they were going to burst.’
What a guy. He’s obviously skilled in mobilising our students. Seems I didn’t need to worry at all about leaving Hope Farm in his care.
‘They’ve been making decorations during their craft classes.’ There are glittered pine cones, little paper baskets with sweets in them, wool pompoms and stars made from recycled straws. It looks fabulous.
‘I’ve just been to The Range to buy a fairy to go on the top.’ Bev fixes the fairy and climbs down. ‘Likey?’
‘Lovey!’ I reply. ‘But the best news of all is that you’re back here.’
‘Alan’s got to walk every day, so we thought we’d suit up and head out across the fields. Coming?’
‘I can think of nothing better.’
‘No more scares,’ I tell Alan. ‘My heart can’t cope.’
‘Matching band T-shirts again,’ Lucas notes. ‘All is well in the world.’
Alan glances shyly at Bev and she throws her arms round him. ‘This one’s not getting away from me again.’
We wait until the students have finished their drinks and then we decide to take them all out for a walk with some of the animals too. There’s a great performance while we put halters on the alpacas, the donkeys, two of the pygmy goats and a couple of the sheep; and of course, our permanent doggy companions come along too.
As a noisy, unruly rabble – the kids and the animals – we head out across the fields. The kids are excitable, the alpacas are as skittish as always, the goats try to headbutt everyone. It’s a bright, sunny day and we’re all wrapped up against the cold. I feel that I can breathe again. I know that some people want to travel the world, but I don’t even want to leave the farm. Why should I when I have all this?
Even Lucas has joined us which has made the girls very happy. They gather round him in a huddle, all sparkly ear muffs, fluffy gloves and lip gloss. They all hang on his every word and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, I think he’s positively basking in the warmth of their adoration. And why not? Soon he’ll be weighed down with responsibility. Penny is right by his side and she looks at him adoringly. She will be crushed when she finds out about Aurora and the impending baby. I wonder how different things would have been if he’d been seeing someone more his own age. Again my heart breaks for him, for his future.
We do a tour of the fields, visiting the ponies – Buzz Lightyear, Ringo, and our new little lady, Beyoncé – en route. Then we stop off to see how Sweeney and Carter, our Shire horses, are – and I’ve brought a bag of carrots as treats for them. As always, the students are all eager to feed them and these gentle giants are less likely to nip than the alpacas. We try to leave them outside as much as possible, but they have stalls up here and in the yard for when it’s too cold.
‘Do you ride?’ I ask Matt.
‘Yeah.’ He’s strokes Sweeney’s neck. ‘Haven’t done so for ages, though.’