“No, it’s not. Because despite what anyone else might think, you count too, Jason.” I returned my attention to Barrowboy. “As for you, I know you’re busy with your farm and your mountain rescue stuff and whatever else it is you have going on, but have you ever thought that you might actually need a day off? That it would be good for you?” I indicated his brother. “That it would be good for both of you?” By then, not only did I have Barrowboy’s attention, I was on a roll. “And it isn’t as if this isjustabout either of you anyway. It’s about a little boy who’s scared witless because Christmas won’t be the same this year.” I pictured Seb’s distress as he pleaded with Lizzie over coming to spend the day with me. “A little boyandhis mother who have lived in this village for nearly a year now.” I waved my arm around gesturing into the distance, as I recalled Lizzie’s panic at the bus stop. “Who still don’t know anyone. Talk about community spirit.” I folded my arms and closed my eyes for a moment to settle myself. “I just thought,” I said, my voice calmer. “It would be nice if they got to know some of their neighbours. I’ll be gone soon and what with you two being a couple of the few locals I’ve met…”

Barrowboy stared at me, silent.

“Please, Barrowboy,” Jason said. “I can help with the milking first thing. Help with whatever else needs sorting. And if you can’t do it for me, then do it for Seb and Lizzie.” He stared at his brother, his eyes pleading.

Barrowboy looked both shocked and hurt. “Why wouldn’t I do it for you?” he said, his voice pained. “You’re my brother. You matter more than anyone.”

“You say that, but…”

Barrowboy stepped forward and pulled his brother into a bear hug. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.” He held on tight.

“Although I’m not being completely selfless,” I said, picturing the ten-pounds-worth of turkey sandwiches I might have to eat. “You’ve seen for yourself the size of that bird in there.”

Barrowboy finally let go of his brother. “What time do you want us?” he asked.