We walk on to the sheep, both Lucas and I falling into our well-trodden path. We have a look at our mum-to-be, Fluffy. ‘She’s getting huge,’ I note. ‘The vet said she might give us a Christmas baby.’
Lucas looks at me and there is sadness in his eyes. I assume he’s thinking of his own baby that never was.
‘You OK?’
‘Yeah.’ He tries to pull a philosophical expression, but doesn’t quite cut it. ‘I wish things had turned out differently, but it is what it is.’
‘Your time will come and you’ll appreciate it all the more.’ I don’t know if that will comfort him, but I hope so.
‘I don’t wish her ill,’ he says. ‘Aurora. I hope it works out with this bloke. Kind of. For the kid’s sake.’
It’s not the ideal situation to be bringing a child into, but I keep my counsel. ‘I hope so, too.’
Anthony is obviously feeling less anti-social than usual as he comes over to say hello. It could, however, be the bucket of food that Lucas is carrying that lures him in. As a reward, our anti-social sheep gets a handful of our special mix. In contrast, Lucas’s reward is Anthony pushing his head through the gate and trying to headbutt him in the nether regions.
‘Bad sheep,’ I admonish.
‘True to form,’ Lucas notes and we leave Anthony thwarted but still with an evil glint in his eye.
We check on the bunny run and they’re all OK. Ant and Dec are nestled happily together in their huge hutch. The hens have gone into their shelter for the night. Fifty and Teacup are already snuggled up in their pen, content in each other’s company. I can relax knowing that my beloved animals are safe and well – and, in some cases, as feisty as ever.
Calling the dogs to heel from the four corners of the yard, Lucas and I climb over the stile into the field. Lucas holds out his hand to help me down, when he normally wouldn’t do that at all. He’s being very solicitous today and I don’t know if it’s because he knows that Shelby going away is a blow, but it’s nice whatever the reason.
The fields are already blanketed with snow and it looks so beautiful sparkling in the moonlight. A winter wonderland, indeed. It’s bitterly cold, but the night air is still without a hint of breeze and our walk is bracing. Thank goodness that Sweeney and Carter are already in their stables in the yard and the ponies are beside them in a covered pen. Betty Bad Dog snuffles along, snout buried in the snow, occasionally making herself sneeze violently.
‘Dozy mutt,’ Lucas murmurs with a laugh.
‘She’ll never learn,’ I agree.
We walk on in silence, until I risk venturing, ‘Penny’s very nice.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You seem to be getting on well with her.’
‘Stop that now,’ Lucas instructs. ‘Don’t even go there.’
Damn. I hoped that he would be feeling mellow enough to confide in me. So, not wanting to spoil our current closeness, I drop the topic. All I’ll say is watch this space.
Chapter Eighty-Two
It’s Christmas Day and I wake at four in the morning. I can tell from the crisp feel of the air, the muffled weight of the sound, that a lot more snow has fallen overnight. I budge the dogs over and push myself up in bed to look out of the caravan window. Sure enough, the yard is deep with snow and I feel a thrill of excitement.
Then my phone rings and I answer it.
‘Hi.’
It’s Shelby on the other end of the line. Who else would it be at this hour?
‘I’m at the airport.’ His voice sounds strained, anxious.
‘Was it OK getting there?’
‘Yes, yes.’ His tone is dismissive.
‘I thought the snow might have hampered you.’
‘The motorway was clear enough.’ It’s obvious that he’s not in the mood for small talk. ‘Molly, I’m about to go through passport control.’
‘I hope you have a great flight,’ I tell him. ‘Fingers crossed that it’s not delayed. I’ll be thinking of you.’
He takes a deep breath. I hear it wavering down the line. ‘I don’t have to go,’ he says, tightly. ‘Tell me not to go and I’ll turn round and come home.’
My heart is pounding and I wonder if this is what I’ve waited to hear. At the eleventh hour, he’s obviously having second thoughts and who wouldn’t? It’s a huge step. He’s giving up life here to start anew. He’s leaving me and his son behind. He might have convinced himself that it’s a temporary situation, but we both know that it could well be much more than that.
‘Say something,’ Shelby urges.
What do I do? This is Shelby’s big moment, his dream. Yet, should I think of Lucas and ask him to come home? If I did that, would Shelby hold it against me for ever? Even if he comes back now would this ending be happy ever after?
‘Molly, I don’t have to get on this plane.’
This is it. The moment that changes everything. I take time to gather my thoughts before I answer as I know there will be no going back.
‘You do,’ I say and my voice sounds stronger than it feels. ‘This is what you want.’
‘I don’t know if it is,’ he admits.
‘You have a contract, commitments. You start filming in a couple of days.’
‘I can ask my agent to sort it. I’m pretty sure he could get me out of it. You and Lucas are more important to me. My head has been so messed up, I’ve not been thinking straight. Say the word and I’ll come home right now.’
It would be so tempting, so easy to ask him to stay. But what then? Are we already too far apart to bridge the gap?
‘Molly?’
I try to steady my breath, but my heart is thumping and I take another interminable moment to make sure that this absolutely what I want.
‘Go,’ I say as calmly as I can. ‘You’re halfway there.’ He might have miles to travel, but emotionally he is already stepping out of our lives.
There’s a long silence before he replies. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I arrive.’
‘Safe journey, Shelby,’ I offer. ‘I hope that it’s all you wish for.’
‘I love you,’ he says.
But I can’t answer that. All I can manage is. ‘Take care.’
Then I hang up the phone and stare at the wall wondering whether or not I’ve done the right thing. Is this for the best or have I just completely messed up my life?
Chapter Eighty-Three
Wrapping up warm before I head out into the snow, I go through the usual routine of feeding the animals and try not to think about my conversation with Shelby. He’ll have gone through to the departure lounge by now and will be getting ready to board his flight. I feel numb. I feel sad. I feel relief.
I take care to wish all of my charges a very merry Christmas and sneak them an extra treat as it’s a special day. I’ve got a Christmas carrot for one and all, so am very popular. As I watch them crunch and munch, I savour the peace, the unchanging nature of the farm and feel my soul settle once more.
When I get back to the caravan, Phantom is sitting at the bottom of the steps, staring at me. Our feral cat has never come anywhere near the van before and, as you know, is rarely even seen in the yard, preferring to be out in the fields or in the barn.