But asIdid,Ishouldn’t have been so surprised thatChloewas there, too.Handingme supplies asItended to the hives.CuddlingwithWillowon the sofa at the end of the day.Herhand in mine as we sat with our backs to the tree in the orchard whereI’dcomforted her just a few days ago.
And whenItried to imagine the farm without her … well,Isimply couldn’t anymore.IfItried to remember what it was like before her, remembering bottling alongsideJenor harvesting vegetables on my own– or even whenMomhad been here, my fingers finding my pendant asIthought of her– thereChloewould come in my mind’s eye, pointing her phone at me or just admiring me from the doorway.She’dget her hands stuck in and help, no matter what we were doing.
She’d become integral.HowevergreatGwenynenhad been before– however much it had felt like home– her energy and ideas and passion had made it better.Herjustbeing therehad made it better.Andas long asI’dpictured my perfect life here, now allIseemed to want was a version with her in it.Itwas so much sweeter.
Not that whatIwanted counted for anything.Ihad three weeks left untilIwas due to leave, but honestly, after last night,Iwas ready to rip theBand-Aidoff.Iwasn’t sure what good it would do me to linger, torturing myself with what could have been in an alternate dimension whereIdidn’t have to worry about profit margins or visas or grants or what was waiting for me back home.
Willow andImade our way back down as the sky started to lighten, the rain coming back in a gentle pitter-patter.WhenIcame back into the house,Ibumped intoChloein the kitchen making breakfast.Thefirst thingInoticed was that she’d changed out of her pyjamas.Ithought about saying something– maybe making a quip about her shorts, or telling her whatI’dbeen thinking up on that hill, desperate to say something to bridge this awful, inevitable gap between us– butIknew it was better to just keep my mouth shut.Todaywasn’t the day to make things harder on her.Luckily,Jenwalked in, too, and we all ate breakfast together,Maggieshowing up just as we’d launched into logistics.
We each had a role to play today.Jenwas running the art lessons now, andMaggiewas on bar duty.Iwas responsible for helping food vendors as they arrived, and then directing car parking once guests started showing up.Simple, straightforward tasks that would keep me busy and out ofChloe’sway.Chloeherself would, of course, be running around, keeping everything working in perfect harmony like a conductor.She’dworked so hard for all of this, and despite the curveballs thrown at her,Iknew already that she’d done it.Itwould be hours before we could say for certain, butIfelt sure she’d pulled it off.
She deserved everything she wanted, even ifIcouldn’t be a part of it.
* * *
As the day progressed,and we got closer to the two o’clock start time,Ifound myself seekingJenout.Thingshad been different between us this summer, andIdidn’t relish the idea of being teased or prodded about things withChloe, but she still felt like my safe place.
In the end,Inearly collided with her as she was leaving the warehouse.Onher face was an expressionIrarely saw her wear: she was nervous.Myfirst thought, strangely, was that something had happened withMaggie, maybe because my own mind was stuck on things withChloe– but thenIremembered her business was having a major first.
“How are you holding up?”Iasked her.
Jen gnawed on her lip. “I’mterrified, honestly.”
“It’s just kids,”Ijoked. “Ifthey surround you, just throw paint in their faces and make a break for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’snot that.”
I laughed. “No,Iknow.”
“It’s just,I’vebeen getting by making and selling mead for so long, running the occasional workshop.It’sjust me and the bees, you whenI’mlucky, andMaggie…”Shetrailed off wistfully, her eyes searching the farm behind me. “Well, the point is, this kind of growth, all these people … it scares me.”
“You made the right choice,”Isaid, as confidently asIcould muster. “Thefarm doesn’t just belong to us anymore.Itcan mean something to the whole community now.Evenif things do get more … complicated as a result.”
Jen studied my face. “That’squite an admission, coming from you.”
“Yeah, well.”Ishrugged.Ididn’t feel like being psychoanalysed right now.
She pulled me into a fierce hug. “Ilove you, you know.Whateverhappens, that doesn’t change.”
“I know,”Isaid into her shoulder. “Ilove you, too.”
We stood like that for a long moment, blocking the warehouse door, andIfelt some of the worry and heartache leach out of me into the ground.
“Everything’s going to be okay,”Itold her as we separated, willing it to be true.Evenif it didn’t feel like it just yet.
* * *
The festival did go well.Betterthan well, actually.Ispent most of the time in the car park, directing traffic and helping people navigate the muddy field toward the polytunnel, beyond which the warehouse was thumping with music and ringing with laughter and conversation.Itwas satisfying work, seeing the steady stream of families and couples and groups of friends, all arriving with excitement and anticipation, even ifIdid have to stay perpetually soaked to the bone in order to pull it off.
I saw familiar faces throughout the afternoon.AliceandDylanarrived with others from their local club, andIpromisedI’dfind them later.Ialso may have accidentally agreed to come to club meetings next year, butIcouldn’t quite hear over the rain, soIcould probably claim ignorance.ThentheD&Dgroup arrived together inJack’sLandRover, taking the time to hug me despite how wetIwas.JackandAmy’sparents arrived around then, too, andIfinally got to meet the famousPatricia, who wrapped me in a hug almost as tight as the oneJenhad given me earlier.
AsIwaved each group toward the warehouse,Ithought about how different my social life looked now compared to four months ago, whenI’darrived with nothing but a duffel bag and my carefully guarded independence.Ididn’t want to say goodbye to any of it, but it was high timeIaccepted the fact thatI’dhave to.
My phone buzzed, andIchecked it hopefully.I’dtexted my dad earlier asking how he was doing, but there was still no response.JustFatimasending photos from inside the warehouse, where the festivities were in full swing.
Most people gave a friendly wave on their way in, but at around four o’clock, a man approached me directly after he got out of his car.Somethingabout him screamed “official”, butI’dnever seen him before, soIdidn’t know whoIwas looking at.Maybeone of the local “influencers”Chloehad invited?
“You look just likeJen, so you must be the niece,” the man shouted over the rain, extending his hand. “I’mDafydd.DafyddChen.”
