“The hours would be flexible,”Jensaid, by way of an answer. “Say, four days a week, most of which could be remote?Andthen there are a handful ofSaturdayswhere you would go out to markets and festivals with my niece, who helps me run things over the summer.Maybehelp her out a bit on your days here until you get the lay of the land.”
“Your niece?”Iasked, mostly as filler, because my brain was going a million miles a minute.Isat forward on my sofa, clutching my chest like my heart might beat right out of it.
“Yes, she’s a bit prickly, but she knows the farm better than anyone.She’llarrive week after next, actually, so that might be a good time to come on board?Whatdo you think?Doyou have a notice period at work?”
“Nope, we’re all good,”Isaid, knowing full well thatIdid, butIdidn’t care.HadIeven imagined something like this was an option for me?No.Butit was the ultimateThingICouldDoWithMyLifeThatWasn’tSad, wasn’t it?
“So, you’re in?You’dlike the job?”
“Hell yes!”Ipractically shrieked, then realisedIshould probably try to sound more professional. “Imean, yes,I’dlove to.”
“Brilliant.”Jenchuckled, andIsighed in relief.We’dget on just fine. “I’llemail the details.Wecan sort out paperwork and a start date from there.Soundgood?”
I nodded enthusiastically before realisingJencouldn’t hear a nod.Igave her my email address, said goodbye, and proceeded to chuck my phone so hard at the other end of my sofa that it rebounded onto the floor.ButIdidn’t care.Theuniverse was conspiring in my favour, andIwas going to be working on a fuckinghoney farmfor the summer.Ihadn’t even known to hope for something like this.
* * *
Over the next few days,Ithrew myself into prep like a girl possessed.Ispeed-ran every free online course on marketing, food and beverage branding, event planning, and social mediaIcould find.Istarted a monster spreadsheet and filled it with colour-coded tabs, andImadePinterestmood boards full of keywords like “event bunting” and “modern rustic picnic tables.”Ieven started following a bunch ofWelshtourism influencers.
My boss at the animal rescue, on the other hand, was a bit less enthusiastic.Therewas a sabbatical policyIcould leverage soIdidn’t have to quit, given that the contract with the farm was only temporary, but my bossSimonemade it very clear that she didn’t appreciate being given so little notice.Ihadn’t made a conscious choice to issue an ultimatum, but she was clearly getting the impression from me thatIwould quit ifIhad to, and thankfully she didn’t make me.Ididn’t exactly look super closely at the loose endsIneeded to tie up, butSimonewasn’t expecting me this summer, and that was what mattered.
The only other problem was the commute.GwenynenHollowwas fully in the countryside across theWelshborder, and public transport did not agree with it.Itwould take me an hour each way on the bus, plus a thirty-minute walk along rural country lanes.Ithought about trying to learn to drive again, and maybeIwould if the trial period turned into something more permanent.Butgiven that my first and only driving lesson at age seventeen had resulted in the instructor’sFordFiestasinking halfway into a duck pond,IfiguredI’dbetter get excited about walking.Plus, what was more main character than looking out of the window of a moving vehicle at the rolling hills sliding by?
In reality, on my first day, asInavigated to the farm just after lunchtime, the bus smelled like wet sheep and reheated meat pies.Isuspected it would only be worse at seven a.m., butItold myself this was what character building looked like.Therain held off for my walk, and though my loafers had produced a hell of a blister on my right foot by the timeIgot there, andIwas pretty sureI’dsweated all the way through the blouseI’dworn, looking up the gravel drive at the farm felt like a homecoming of sorts.
I stopped for a second to catch my breath, every muscle in my legs as wobbly as jelly.Ilooked down at my hands, one clutching the strap of my purse and the other gripping my phone, and realisedIwas actually shaking.Thiswas it.Myshot at no longer flitting through life, but doing something that mattered.Tome, to the community, and toJenand her family.SoIbanished theTeddyVoicefrom my mind once and for all and started up the drive.
* * *
Except now,all the excitement drained from my body into the wooden floor beneath my feet, because theTeddyVoicewas very much not banished, and that face that had haunted me for months was right in front of me.
She was wearing jeans with huge holes over the knees and an oversizedPatagoniaT-shirt hanging off one shoulder, her tanned collarbone jutting out in a way my eyes couldn’t seem to look away from.Herbrown hair– teddy brown; how apt– hung in damp waves around her face, tickling her shoulders.Thegold coin she’d worn around her neck before was still there, and from this distanceIcould see the design on it was that of a bee.
For three months,I’dbeen seeingTeddy’sface in my mind.Thedesire to stick it to her, even if she’d never know it, had fuelled me asI’dplanned and worked and, for the first time in years, dreamt.
But ifI’dbeen seeing that face in my mind for months, how hadIgotten it so wrong?Andhow hadInot seen it the momentI’dlooked atJen, who could have beenTeddy’sdoppelgänger if not for the extra decades?
Perhaps it was the vendetta that had been clouding my memory.I’dremembered her face as more angular– sharper and crueller.Butthe faceIwas looking at now, despite the confusion and annoyance clear in the crease of her brow, was soft and beautiful.
It was only the discomfort of my work clothes after a half-hour walk that brought me back into my body soIcould speak, andIresolved instantly to play it as cool as possible.Ithought for a moment about pretending not to remember her, but there was something more satisfying about making sure she knewIdid.Unbothereddidn’t have to be a bad thing, after all.
Even ifIfeltverybothered as she shook my hand, the warmth of her skin folding around mine as she squeezed, perhaps a bit tighter than was necessary.Ididn’t even know whatIwas saying to her.Ijust focused on keeping the smile on my face untilTeddydropped my hand at last.
After that,Itried to focus on whatJenandIhad been discussing– how we needed to identify the channels and audiences we currently had before we could start planning the first event, or even set a timeline– butIkept glancing atTeddyout of the corner of my eye.Shewatched me from where she stood by the open door, then moved to sit at the table in the middle of the room.ThespanielI’dmet before stayed at her heel the whole time, though it was looking at me and wagging its tail, occasionally glancing up atTeddyas if for permission to come and say hello.
“I’m sure we can sort all that out today,”Jensaid, ushering me into the kitchen next door. “Butlet’s put the kettle on first.Imay not be from here, butI’vebeen here long enough to know that a meeting can’t start without a hot drink in hand.”
“Too right,”Isaid, looking over my shoulder to see ifTeddywould follow.Shedidn’t.
I toldJenhowItook my tea– one sugar, non-dairy milk if she had it (she did)– then busied myself looking at the bright watercolours everywhere.Evenhere in the kitchen, there was barely an inch of space not adorned in some way.Thepaintingscovering the walls were mostly of flowers and landscapes, though there were a few with fruit, one of a boat, and one of a spaniel that looked an awful lot like the one atTeddy’sfeet, with “Willow” written in loping script in the bottom corner.Thepaintings were all highly stylised, with nothing in the colour you might expect– the spaniel, for instance, was bright green– but the shading and tone and movement of the painting created an almost lifelike effect anyway.
Looking at the paintings gave me a moment to think.WhatdidTeddybeing here mean for me?Jenhad saidI’dneed to go to events and work around the farm with her niece.Didthat meanI’dbe travelling all over theUKwith the person who had dressed me down just a few months ago?Howmuch time would we actually have to spend together?WasIwilling to do that for a job which may or may not work out in the long run, even without this new hurdle?
But maybe it wasn’t a hurdle.Teddyhadn’t immediately had another go at me, so maybe she was over it.She’dhad a pretty bad day last time, after all.Perhapsshe was willing to start afresh.Maybeit wouldn’t be so bad, actually, and the somersaults that had started in my stomach on seeing her would calm down quickly so we could work together in peace.
Jen excused herself to go and get more oat milk, apparently from another building, asIheard the back door open and shut again, and then footsteps on gravel.Ialso heard the scratch of little nails against the wooden floor, andIturned to seeWillowtip-tapping her feet atTeddy’sside as she loomed in the doorway.Thecrease inTeddy’sforehead had severely deepened, and she sighed in what seemed like exasperation as we made eye contact.Nowthiswas the faceI’dremembered.
“Hey,”Isaid, stepping towards her, ready to try to build the bridgeI’dneed to walk over.Butjust like she had at theRenFairemonths ago, she cut me off.
