‘I don’twanta fresh start. I want things back to how they used to be. And I don’t want to hear any more of your motivational speeches about change being positive. It isn’t. It’s shit.’
I winced at the expletive. Maddie had never sworn in front of me before and the word sounded alien coming from her lips. It didn’t feel like the right moment to pick up on it and if cursing helped release some of her anger, so be it.
‘I hate the farm,’ she continued, her voice increasing in volume and pitch. ‘I hate Northumberland, I hate Alfie and Carmen, and as for you and Dad, you’ve…’
I braced myself for the hurtful words I’d heard far too many times recently –you’ve ruined my life– but I was spared on this occasion. Releasing a frustratedurghsound, Maddie turned her head away from me once more, letting her long dark hair fall forward to cover her face.
Clearly we weren’t going to resolve anything right now so I might as well turn the radio up and sing along to the music.
I truly was excited about moving back to Northumberland and being closer to my family. When I left home to study a degree in sports therapy at Loughborough University, I’d fully intended to return to Northumberland after graduating. But I met Laurie at Loughborough and falling in love with him changed everything.
Laurie Coates, a mechanical engineering student, hailed from Berkshire. He wasn’t averse to living in the north-east after we graduated and I wasn’t averse to moving to the south but the best job opportunities for both of us happened to be in Reading. Three hundred and twenty miles felt like such a long way from home but my parents, as always, were incredibly supportive, saying they only ever wanted me to be happy. And I was. I had the perfect partner and the dream career.
Three years after graduating, Laurie and I got married and Maddie was born four years after that, completing our family. We were both ambitious and championed each other to progress with our careers. I encouraged Laurie to obtain a Master’s in engineering and to accept assignments overseas, knowing that the experience he gained would help secure him future promotions. He supported me through a career change from sports therapist to animal-assisted therapist which had necessitated a second degree in psychology and counselling. We’d provided strength to each other through sad and difficult times including the loss of the remaining grandparents on both sides, a cancer diagnosis for his brother who was now, thankfully, in full remission, the tragic death of one of our best friends, Adrian, and the sudden death of my wonderful dad.
I’d thought we could get through anything together. When Laurie arrived home from work a year ago announcing major redundancies and his senior role being at high risk, I was heartbroken for him, especially as he’d given his entire career so far to the same company. But I’d had no reason to believewe wouldn’t get through it just like we’d done with all the other challenges we’d faced. I’d always been a positive person who responded well to change. I believed that everything happened for a reason and unexpected changes invariably turned out to be for the best. Laurie’s redundancy felt like one of those occasions. I’d never in a million years have predicted that Laurie would take that fresh start to the extreme. New job. New home. New country. New life.
Without me.
9
The journey to Northumberland passed by painfully slowly with Maddie staring out of the window, earbuds in, refusing to speak to me. We had several service station stops to give the animals a break, during which the only conversations related to them. Nova and Skye were seasoned travellers and had done the journey to Northumberland before, Clemmie had mewed solidly for ten minutes before settling to sleep and Maddie’s guinea pigs – brothers Bubble and Squeak – seemed unfazed.
Maddie drifted off to sleep after our final stop at a services near Durham so I kept the radio on low, singing along softly to a local station playing music exclusively from the nineties, transporting me back to my teenage years.
As we passed the turn-off to Alnwick, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I was in familiar territory and we were on the final stretch now, just forty-five minutes from our new home and new life. I smiled at the first glimpses of the North Sea in the distance to the right and looked forward to visiting one of the many beautiful beaches along this stretch of the coast. Designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, the Northumberland coastline boasted miles of predominantly deserted wide beachesapproached from coastal paths, pretty villages or over grassy dunes. With castles perched on cliffs, beautiful nature reserves and views across to Holy Island and the Farne Islands, I couldn’t imagine any visitors not being blown away by the spectacular scenery.
Half an hour past Alnwick, the butterflies circled as I indicated left, joining the same road towards Rowanbridge and Mapleton that Mam and I had spontaneously taken four months ago with no idea where it was going to lead us both literally and figuratively.
‘Maddie?’ I said, eliciting a sleepy groan. ‘Maddie? We’re nearly there.’
She groaned again but stretched her arms and back. ‘How far is it?’
‘Ten minutes.’
As she gazed out of the window. I wondered what was going through her mind. She was used to being surrounded by countryside but she was also used to having shops and amenities close by.
‘How far are we from Newcastle?’ she asked.
‘Maybe ninety minutes by car. It’s about the same to Edinburgh.’
‘Is there a train?’
‘From Berwick-Upon-Tweed – twenty-minute drive and about fifty minutes by train.’
‘Urgh! So we’re miles from civilisation.’
That was such a Carmen-influenced comment. Growing up, Maddie had never shown any interest in shopping, hating it when we needed to venture into Reading for new clothes or shoes. She was a country girl like me, into long walks, bike rides and horse riding. Enter Carmen, exit the love of the outdoors and it was all about weekends hanging out in the shopping centre in Reading or train journeys into London. I’d had aninkling that proximity to the nearest city would be Maddie’s top priority and was surprised she hadn’t mentioned it until now – although she’d have had to speak to me to do that. I desperately hoped her love of the countryside would return because, with a new home to settle into and a business opening in a fortnight, a day of shopping in Newcastle or Edinburgh wasn’t on my list of priorities.
‘Do you want to know more about the farm?’ I asked.
‘I’ll see it for myself when I get there.’
My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I stifled a sigh. Even after we’d had our offer accepted in February Maddie had refused to visit Hazelwick Farm with us. I’d tried on so many occasions to talk to her about the horses and the goats, to show her the photos and videos I’d taken when Mam and I had our viewing, but she hadn’t been interested. After making a deal with the Naylors for some of the Fetlock Farm cows, I’d expected some excitement considering how much Maddie had loved the cow cuddling experience, but I’d got nothing. I told myself she was just being stubborn because she hadn’t wanted to move and her love for animals would eventually win her over, but now I wasn’t so sure. A love for all animals was a trait from past Maddie. The only animals that present Maddie seemed to care about were her guinea pigs.
‘That’s Rowanbridge,’ I said, as we passed the turning to the first village.
‘Icanread, you know.’
