‘Story,’ Sadie demanded.
‘Don’t you want to hear my news?’ Beatrice pretended to pout.
Sadie sat up and folded her arms. ‘What is it?’ she sighed, rolling her eyes.
Beatrice saw herself in the gesture. ‘I’ve got a job, so Nanny will fetch you from school tomorrow, okay?’ Although her official hours were ten until three and she should be finished in time to collect the children, she didn’t want to have to worry on her first day.
Sadie’s expression didn’t change.
‘I’m going to be working in a shop,’ Beatrice continued.
‘A toy shop?’ Sadie’s eyes lit up.
‘Not a toy shop. It’s a—’
‘Sweet shop!’ She wriggled excitedly.
‘No, not a sweet shop, either.’
Her daughter’s face fell.
‘It’s a farm shop,’ Beatrice said, then hastily added, ‘Selling milk, cheese and fruit. Stuff like that,’ in case Sadie thought she would be selling actual farms.
‘Do they have animals?’
‘They certainly do! Goats, chickens and rabbits. Dulcie, who owns the farm, said they have a cat, but I didn’t see it.’
‘Can I see the rabbits?’
‘Yes, and you can see the goats, too.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Not tomorrow, but soon.’ Dulcie had explained that the farm was organising activities on the run-up to Christmas and opening its doors to the public and when Beatrice heard what Dulcie was planning, she knew her daughters would love it.
‘Enough questions,’ Beatrice said. ‘It’s time for a story. What would you like?’
‘That one!’ Sadie pointed to a book on the top of the small pile on her bedside table.
‘Not again,’ Beatrice groaned.
‘Yes again.’
‘Okay, budge over.’
Sadie scooted across the bed and smuggled under the bedclothes, so her mum could sit next to her.
Beatrice reached for the book, and as she did so the author’s name caught her eye and she winced.
It had been written by Mark Stafford – the man who had broken her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
Friday was one of those bright winter days where a weak sun shone out of a silvered sky and mist blanketed the valley floor. Dew-coated cobwebs were spider-strung over the bushes along Muddypuddle Lane, and the red berries of the hawthorn trees glistened like rubies in the morning light.
Beatrice parked her car in the farmyard and took a deep breath of autumn-chilled air. This was her first day in her new job and she couldn’t imagine a more scenic location. At the moment, she felt incredibly blessed; whether she would still feel that way after a five-hour shift remained to be seen.
The tree in the centre of the yard was lit and it looked very festive, despite Christmas being five weeks away. But, as Dulcie had explained when Beatrice had come for the interview (which hadn’t been much of an interview at all), the farm was gearing up to open its gates to visitors who would hopefully enjoy the Christmas experience.
