‘From the café, visitors can either turn right into the heavy horse museum or go left which takes them through the stables and out into the farm,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll show you the museum first. Again, everything you see in there is part of the sale. It’s a bit dusty, mind – hasn’t been updated for a while.’
The museum was a large converted barn in which the centrepiece was an old brewery cart complete with beer barrels. There were various small pieces of old agricultural equipment at the end of the barn and harnesses, horseshoes and brasses displayed on the walls alongside several information boards.
We retraced our steps past the café and into the rear of the stables. Pausing at the top of a gentle slope, I could see that there’d been no expense spared in the stables either. There were eight stalls down each side separated by an extra-wide aisle, perfect for manoeuvrability of heavy horses.
Anna took us down the ramp and through some double doors at the back of the stables.
‘Storage and tack room,’ she said. We opened a few doors before returning to the stables.
‘It’s been mild and dry recently so the horses are all turned out,’ she said, ‘but if you have any questions about them, I’m afraid I’m no expert. My daughter, Shelley, runs that side and I’m in charge of the café. I’d have introduced you to her but, with us closing to the public over winter, she’s on holiday at the moment.’
Anna paused by the large sliding doors at the front and smiled. ‘I think you’ll like this view.’
After she pushed one of the doors aside, Mam and I stepped outside and my heart soared. All I could see stretching out for miles was beautiful countryside.
‘You can see the Cheviots in the distance,’ Mam exclaimed.
Straddling the Anglo-Scottish border, the rolling range of the Cheviot Hills was approximately thirty-five miles long. Most of the peaks were fairly low and the range was extremely popular with hikers. I’d been on several school trips to the hills, valleys and waterfalls and had summited Cheviot – the highest peak – several times in my youth.
I breathed in several deep, slow lungfuls of cool, crisp fresh air and smiled as, beside me, Mam did exactly the same. There was something special about this place. I could feel it in my bones.
‘I’m getting a bit chilly,’ Anna said, rubbing her hands together. ‘Can’t believe I didn’t think to grab a coat. Why don’tyou wander round on your own for a bit? The horses are in the back fields and the goats are in one of the barns off the farmyard. Knock on the farmhouse door when you’re done and I’ll show you around inside.’
The horses were turned out across three different fields behind the stables and my heart soared once more as we approached them.
‘Look at them, Mam! Aren’t they gorgeous?’
The first field we reached appeared to be the largest and home to five heavy horse mares. I recognised two magnificent Shires – one grey and one brown – and a Clydesdale as, having worked with those two breeds, I knew them well. I wasn’t certain about the other two. The grey Shire approached the metal barred gate and I stroked her neck, my heart overflowing with joy to be in the presence of horses once more. It had only been four days since I left Langley Lodge but there’d been such an ache inside of me. The Shire was joined by one of the unfamiliar breeds – a smaller chestnut horse with a liver mane and tail who playfully butted Mam’s shoulder to get some attention.
Mam and I looked at each other and smiled and I knew what she was thinking. This was the place.
In the next field were the male heavy horses – a black Shire, a black-roan Clydesdale and a shorter, stockier chestnut-coloured horse I recognised as a Suffolk Punch. A third field contained two geldings and a pony, all of them brown.
‘What do you think, Mam?’ I asked as we stroked the pony.
‘It’s wonderful. I can picture us here and I don’t even need to see inside the farmhouse to do that. It feels like home.’
‘I agree.’
There was something about Hazelwick Farm that moved me. I had an overwhelming sensation that all the recent heartache had been leading me here and I’d now arrived at the place I wasalways destined to be. I felt as though I’d been here before, even though I knew I hadn’t.
‘Maddie could work here over the summer,’ Mam said. ‘Imagine that! Three generations of women working together in a magical place like this.’
Magical.That was the perfect word for it.
I smiled at her. ‘I’m in! Let’s make it happen.’
5
‘When are you going to tell us where we’re going?’ I asked Mam as we travelled north in her car early on Friday morning.
‘When we arrive,’ she said, grinning.
‘Are we going to Edinburgh, Nanna?’ Maddie asked as we crossed the border into Scotland.
‘Not quite that far. And you might as well both stop asking because I’ve already told you it’s a surprise.’
She’d booked us all ontoa relaxing experienceso the first thing that had sprung to my mind was a spa day, but that didn’t tally with the instruction to wrap up warmly so I remained confused. I’m not sure how she’d managed to convince Maddie to join us, especially after her less-than-positive reaction to us putting an offer in on the farm.
