‘If it’s any help, I think so too.’
‘There you go, then. My dad’s fucked off. There’s nothing to stop you.’
My mind goes to Shelby across the miles, starting out on his glamorous Hollywood lifestyle, and think that it will suit him much more. He’s a man who needs to be adored, feted, whereas I need a man who’s here for me – one who will muck in and muck out. One who will roll up his sleeves and help a baby lamb in distress with aplomb.
In my heart I say goodbye to Shelby, the man that I’ve known and loved. It’s over for us and we both know it. I’m entirely rubbish at this romantic stuff, but I think there is chemistry between me and Matt, a tentative attraction. Perhaps Lucas is right, he would be a good man for me. There’s no doubt we have so much in common.
We watch as Matt gets closer to grabbing Anthony who then performs a perfect swerve to avoid him and runs the other way.
Lucas and I laugh so much that tears run down our faces.
My dear boy turns to me and, wipes away his tears. ‘Molly,’ he looks serious for a moment. ‘This has been a good Christmas. One of the best.’
‘For me too,’ I tell him.
‘We’ll be OK,’ he says. ‘Just you and me.’
I nod, emotion tightening my throat. ‘We will.’
I look above me. The stars are out, the landscape is white with snow as far as the eye can see, the air is crisp. The animals are snug and warm in their stalls. The dogs are at my feet. My dearest boy is content with the world and so am I. It feels exactly like a Christmas night should do.
‘Don’t just stand there,’ Matt shouts over at us. ‘This sheep is a damn sight speedier than he looks.’
We turn again to the antics carrying on in the field ahead of us and frown. ‘I suppose we should go to help Matt out or he’ll be there all night.’
‘We could help,’ Lucas notes. ‘Or we could just go and pound Matt with snowballs.’
I look at Lucas and smile. ‘That sounds like a very fine idea.’
Lucas’s eyes twinkle mischievously. ‘Let’s do it!’
‘You’re on.’
So, side-by-side, we jump down from the stile and run into the field, scooping up snow to pat into snowballs as we go. Matt sees us coming and stops chasing Anthony who immediately stands still in disgust at being abandoned.
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Matt shouts at us and bends to hastily make his own snowballs to repel our attack.
We all come together in a flurry of snow and playful shrieks. There’s snow in my hair, ears, my mouth and down the back of my coat. Matt and Lucas roll on the ground, grappling together, and rubbing snow into each other’s face. Their joyous guffaws fill the night air.
I don’t know what the coming year might bring for me, for Lucas and for all of us at Hope Farm, but I’m sure that along the way there’ll be a lot of love and even more laughter. I just need to open my heart, throw wide my arms and embrace whatever comes next.
Talented poet, Paul Eccentric, one half of the comedy performance act, The Antipoet, created these poems for Lucas in my previous novel about Hope Farm, Happiness for Beginners, and I thought it would be nice if you could enjoy them again.
For further information on his work, pop along and have a look at www.pauleccentric.co.uk.
Without You
It still goes on without you;
life still goes on for me,
it’ll never be the same, though;
not how it’s meant to be.
They tell me it gets easier
with every passing day,
but how could I accept that cancer stole my mum away?
It still goes on without you;
life still goes on for us,
but it’s a lacklustre alternative,
and ever will be thus,
without you here to guide me;
I won’t know what to do,
without you here beside me:
on hand to help me through.
Life still goes on without you;
it still goes on for those,
who kill and maim and terrorise,
because that’s just how it goes!
Life goes on without you,
and I’ll do the best I can;
I just wish you could have stayed around ’til I was an old man.
Secrets ‘n’ Lies
Who are you?
C’mon an’ show me who ya are!
Is anything f’real,
Mr TV star?
Action!
Reaction!
Time t’pour out
y’heart,
but how’m I t’know
what’s y’life and what’s ya art?
Cards on the table:
time t’bare your soul,
but when you lie for a living,
ain’t life just another role?
How will I know
if what y’telling me is true?
An’ if nothing is f ’real,
then, does it matter what I do?
Who are you?
I shouldn’t really have t’arx,
but I really need to know
if there’s a man behind the mask.
Action!
No action;
words are all you got,
scripted ’n’ lifted from a cheap soap plot.
Well-versed, rehearsed;
in the character immersed,
two faces; two families,
but which a’them comes first?
They all think they know ya;
they see you as their friends,
but none a’them will be there when the story ends,
so –
Who are you?
That’s what I need t’know;
when they turn off the camras
and they wrap up the show.
Action!
Interaction:
that’s what I’m looking for,
I shouldn’t have to queue at the stage door.
We all got a secret that we’re burnin’ t’yell,
we’re defined by the lies that we’re willin’ t’tell.
Secrets ’n’ lies;
I’s no big deal;
all I’m arxin’s that y’keep it
a little bit real.
All I’m arxin’s that y’keep it
a little bit real.
All I’m arxin’s that y’arx y’self:
how I might feel . . .
Save the Farm
It’s nothing short of criminal:
It’s a travesty; a scam.
We’re another victim of that HS2 to Birmingham.
Because, despite the work we’ve done here,
For those with special needs,
The rich man’s railway still comes first,
Yes, progress supersedes!
And that leaves us with a problem,
As our work here’s far from done,
Our appeal needs to go viral
Reach the hearts of everyone.
All we need is twenty acres,
At a rent that’s not too steep;
A place to keep our goats and pigs
And Tony, the angry sheep.
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
With the alpacas we’ll stand tall!
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
Hear us all at Hope Farm call!
Save The Farm! Save The Farm!
Stand up for what you know is right,
So the work we do can con-tin-ue
Come join us in this fight.
’Cos the work we do here’s vital,
It’s a lifeline we provide;
For those for whom conventional education