She lowers her voice so I’m the only one who can hear. ‘I’d thought that Alan would dress up as Santa for a couple of hours, but I think it will be all too much for him. I don’t want him traumatised by a ton of overexcited kids. Can you rope anyone else in?’
‘I could ask Christian Lee,’ I suggest. ‘He said he was planning to drop in. I’m sure it would be right up his street.’
‘Call him,’ Bev says. ‘Tell him we’ve already got a costume. That will be another thing crossed off my list.’
‘Consider it done.’ I can’t see him putting up much resistance, though we may have the most camp Santa there ever was.
Bev throws a bunch of mistletoe to me. ‘Look what Jack found in some of the apple trees. I didn’t even know we had any here.’
I look at the mistletoe, its delicate leaves and berries like pearls. ‘I haven’t seen this in a long time. Or had the need for it,’ I add.
‘Do you want me to hang it in the yard for you?’ Matt asks.
‘Great idea,’ Bev says. ‘It will give me loads of excuses to snog Alan.’
‘I’ll help you.’ So I follow Matt outside with an armful of mistletoe and he grabs the ladders, some nails and a hammer.
‘Here?’ He leans the ladders against the barn.
‘Yeah. As good as anywhere, I think.’
I pass him a bunch of mistletoe and he hangs it from the beam. ‘Not too high?’
‘Just perfect.’
When he climbs down, we both look up to admire it.
‘We should check it’s the right height.’
So we both stand under it and it dangles, enticingly, above our heads. ‘Told you it was perfect.’
Then we turn to each other and there’s a moment where the temptation to kiss him is very strong. From the look on Matt’s face, I think that he feels the same. We’re close, our bodies inches apart and it would be so very simple for our lips to meet. My heart is pounding and I wonder what magic this mistletoe is performing.
‘Molly . . .’
That breaks the spell and I step away from him. This isn’t right. I’m with someone else. I’m having his child. ‘It’s lovely, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, beautiful. But I wanted to ask you something.’
Now I’m all flustered. ‘We have so much to do. We’d better get on.’
He puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me still. ‘I’m having a charity ball in January. It usually raises thousands of pounds and I want Hope Farm to be the main beneficiary.’
‘That’s fantastic, Matt. I’m so grateful.’
‘It’s my pleasure. You know that I’ve fallen in love with this place.’ We both look bashful at the choice of his words. ‘I hold you in the greatest respect, Molly, and I’d also like to ask you to come along as my guest.’
‘Me?’
‘I’d be delighted if you’d be by my side.’
The telling thing is that I actually want to go with him, and you know from previous experience that this kind of event is usually my idea of hell. My mind is whirring. Should I go? I feel that we’re becoming too close and, if I’m honest with you, I enjoy spending time with Matt far more than I should.
‘Say something,’ he urges.
‘You should probably take someone else,’ I say, sadly. ‘I’m hopeless at socialising. I’d worry about it for weeks. Take someone who’ll enjoy it.’
He goes to argue, but then thinks better of it. ‘OK. But you’ll be there in spirit with me.’
‘I will.’
I don’t want things to be awkward between us, as I’ve come to rely on Matt and I want him in my life – as a friend. A dear friend.
‘I have been asked out on a date,’ he confides.
‘Oh.’
‘A teacher at the local primary school. I went into one of their assemblies recently. We hit it off and she asked me to go for a drink with her.’
How readily I can imagine that happening. He’s very easy to like.
‘Sounds promising.’ I sound as light as I can while acknowledging that it feels as if I’ve been stabbed in the heart.
‘If you don’t want to come, she might be a likely candidate for the ball?’
‘Sounds ideal,’ I agree, but the words almost stick in my throat.
He looks at me earnestly and it’s almost too much to bear. ‘Molly?’ A beat. ‘Is that really what you think I should do?’
This is a moment that could change our relationship for good and we both know it. We either step forward together or step back from the edge. Which is it to be? Do I go with Matt or do I watch from the sidelines while he goes with someone else?
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Go for it!’ I force a bright smile.
He looks at me and I can’t read his expression. Is it sadness I see or acceptance of our situation? Shelby will be coming home soon and I think that’s a good thing. Absence should make the heart grow fonder but, at the moment, it just seems to be making our life more difficult. Surely it will be better when he’s back.
‘Thanks for your advice,’ Matt says and there’s a resigned note in his words. ‘I’ll call her.’
‘Great. Let me know how you get on.’
‘Friends,’ Matt says.
‘Friends,’ I echo.
But I think that both of us have the feeling that we have lost a little bit of something unspoken.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Finally, it’s our Christmas Open Day. It seems to have been ages in the making and now, suddenly and in a last minute rush, it’s here. And I can’t tell you how nervous I am. I’m not comfortable with people at the best of times and yet we’ve got a crowd of them arriving today. I’m worried about how we’re going to keep them all entertained, while being equally worried that they won’t show up at all. The weather forecast is perfect, but what if they’re wrong and it pours down? That won’t feel very festive. I didn’t sleep a wink all last night dwelling on everything that could go wrong, all the things I can’t control, my animals being top of the list. I know. I can’t help it. Call me a fatalist.
I’m up before dawn and, as I have done every day for the last week, I throw up in the loo, trying to be as quiet as I can so that Lucas doesn’t hear. I’ve yet to tell him my news. Only Bev knows. But is this down to stress or morning sickness? I don’t know. I look in the mirror and can see the start of a tiny bump, so small it’s barely there. Is it a baby or could it simply be due to Bev force-feeding me mince pies on a daily basis?
I have no time to consider my predicament now. A few minutes later and I’m in my coat and wellies and out on the farm. Can’t hang about today. Places to go, things to do, stuff to stress about. So far, the forecast is right. It’s a bright, sunny day, but it’s so cold that I can see my breath on the air.
Grabbing some buckets, I fill them from the food bins before heading into the barn. Everyone gets a little bit of extra grub to see them through the cold winter months.
‘Morning, everyone,’ I say. ‘Breakfast is ready.’ I hold out a bucket for the alpacas, who nearly pull me over in their enthusiasm. ‘I need you lot in particular to be on your best behaviour. Remember what that is?’