Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
I concentrate on serving myself casserole, on keeping my hand steady while I bring chunks of gravy-coated rabbit onto my plate.
“Thought you were friends, like,” the farmhand, Mac, says.
“He and Will work together. I’ve never actually met him,” Becca admits. Her tone’s changed. She sounds a little…sour.
Am I in trouble?
“This looks delicious.” I force a subject change while stabbing into a piece of Peter, trying not to picture his cute, twitching nose as I bring it to my mouth. Dark chicken. Dark chicken. Dark chicken. My teeth rip it from my fork like it’s a dare. Well, huh. I’m pleasantly surprised, although slightly concerned for the welfare of Scottish chickens because it tastes nothing like that. I eat some more, which goes down even better, possibly because Becca and Josie have started discussing parenting and children.
“Ben’s going to work for one of Will’s friends over the summer while college is out. He’s desperate to earn his own money.”
“He is?” I interrupt my wife’s conversation. “Which friend?”
And why don’t I know about it?
“Rick. Ben’s going to help out at his brother’s garage. Just a few odd jobs. Probably making the tea, cleaning the tools, that kind of thing.”
My gaze flits between Ben and my wife, who both look at me as if it’s completely normal that I haven’t been told my son is starting his first job.
“Rick’s been asking about you, by the way. Says you two haven’t spoken in weeks.”
It’s true. We haven’t. “Yeah, I’ve, uh, been busy.”
Becca holds the top of my arm while leaning forward, closer to Josie. “I swear, it’s like he’s leaving us all behind since he started fraternizing with the rich and famous.”
Josie laughs at my wife’s stupid joke.
“It’s not fraternizing,” I snap. How many times does she need to keep repeating the same tired line? “It’s work.” As soon as it happens, I know I’ve blown a cloud of awkwardness around the table.
Becca’s hand slips slowly down my arm. She coughs quietly, clearing her throat, before fixing a small, nervous smile in place. “So, your girls. Do you think they’ll go into the farm business?”
And that’s that. Crisis averted. At least, crisis managed. For now. We finish our meals, polish off Josie’s homemade rhubarb crumble for dessert, drink more alcohol, and talk about families, farming and, at one point, for some reason, the invention of electricity. Overall, it’s a good night. I’m glad I came…and glad it’s ending.
Just before we leave, Emmett informs us that our cottage will be vacant for two days after we’re due to leave, and that they’re happy for us to stay on, free of charge, if we like. The déjà vu is overwhelming when I open my mouth to decline but hear, “That sounds wonderful!” in my wife’s voice. “Thank you, Emmett. Perhaps I could cook for you and Josie before we leave? Maybe not everyone. I’m not sure there’s room at the cottage table.”
“Josie’d love that, I reckon. I’ll let ‘er know.”
Great.
It doesn’t occur to me to care how rude I might look walking on ahead, leaving Becca and the kids to say our goodbyes. In fairness, I have said it, but my family are doing the obligatory dawdling at the doorstep while both parties exchange closing pleasantries no one is really interested in. I know when they’re catching up because Ben’s laughter echoes through the open country air, his trainers crunching the stony pathway as he runs. I notice when he whizzes past, that Lucy’s chasing him.
Becca’s small close-together footsteps aren’t far behind. I slow my pace, wait for her. “That was nice,” I say, matching her speed as we walk side by side. I have to pinch my eyes to see where I’m going. Despite the summer and longer days, the darkness feels thicker here.
“Mmm. It was.”
“Josie seems nice. You looked like you got on well.”
“Yep.”
Okay. I’m in the doghouse. Clipped, monotone answers are never a good sign.
“I suppose you’ll enjoy the extra couple of days then, eh? You can get to know her a bit more. Although, are you sure work will be okay with it? Did you book enough time off?”
Becca’s feet literally grind the dirt as she comes to a complete stop. She stands in front of me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You ‘suppose’ I’ll enjoy the extra days?”
What the… “I didn’t mean… Bloody hell, Becs, it was just a question!”
“Don’t you want to stay?”
Not particularly. “Sure. Like I said, dinner was nice. The cottage is nice. Everything’s nice. What do you want from me?”
“Nice.” She blows out a puff of air that’s carrying so much anger I think I might bruise when it hits my chest. “Right.”
“What’s wrong with nice?”
“It’s our first holiday since before the pandemic. The first time we’ve spent any real quality time together as a family in absolutely ages…and you’re somewhere else.” She flings her hands in the air.