Page 61 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

With the rain getting worse, about half of the campers were happy to sit it out in their tents, playing games and enjoying a glass or two of wine. A couple of others had headed to the Black Swan Inn in Cranbridge to shelter in the pub and enjoy the hospitality there. But four of the camping couples had decided to leave.

‘I’m sorry,’ said one lady, looking upset. ‘But the weather doesn’t look like it’s going to improve for a couple of days. This wasn’t what we had in mind when we booked. We just want to go home.’

‘Of course,’ said Flora, feeling upset but trying her best to hide it from the customer. ‘We understand and, of course, we’ll refund you the difference in your stay.’

‘How kind,’ replied the lady.

The other people weren’t quite so upbeat and merely began to pack up without even telling Flora and Nico. However, they had been keeping an eye on the campsite from the large open barn and had watched as a couple of people began to take their bags to their cars.

They rushed out as one lady slipped over on the wet grass. She laughed and rolled her eyes at her clumsiness. ‘Good job we’re going,’ she said, brushing off the grass from her knees.

Flora didn’t feel like laughing, however. They had had to refund at least four couples for their short stay. They knew that they could do nothing about the weather and technically it wasn’t in the contract, but she didn’t want to make a bad situation even worse. They had barely made a profit on the weekend, let alone Nico getting anywhere near a return on his money for all the outlay of the tents and materials.

Flora was grateful for the remaining families that had stayed who were determined to stick it out whatever the weather, but she had never felt more miserable. It was an utterly disastrous start to running a campsite. And if that wasn’t a success, then they had nothing left to lose but the farm.

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After it had grown dark that evening, Flora sat slumped at the kitchen table. She had had such high hopes for the opening of the campsite and had figured in every possible problem, every potential thing that could trip them up. Apart from the weather, that was.

Nico muttered something in Italian as he sat next to her with an equally miserable expression.

‘What was that?’ asked Flora.

‘Piove sempre sul bagnato,’ he replied. ‘When it rains, it pours.’

‘Well, it’s certainly doing that,’ murmured Flora.

‘Who wants a cup of tea?’ asked Grams, in a bright tone.

‘How about something stronger?’ suggested Nico. ‘I’ve got just the thing in my car.’

After a short while, he came back in carrying a couple of boxes of yellow liquid in glass bottles.

‘What’s that?’ asked Grams.

‘Home-made limoncello,’ he told her.

‘You made this?’ asked Flora, amazed.

He nodded and smiled at her, although she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. He was as tired and shocked as she was by the terrible start to their business. ‘I do have quite a few hidden talents,’ he said. ‘Although changing the weather pattern isn’t one of them.’

‘Let’s get some glasses,’ said Grams, reaching up to the shelf above the worktop.

Flora watched as Grams suddenly peered out of the window. ‘What is it?’ she asked, wondering if it were the remaining guests on the campsite also deciding to leave.

Grams turned around smiling. ‘Our friends,’ she told them, just as the back door opened.

A flurry of activity followed as Harriet, Katy and Libby came inside in a rush of damp raincoats and excited babble of conversation. They were followed by Joe, Ryan, Ethan, Bob and Eddie.

‘What are you all doing here?’ asked Flora in amazement.

‘Support,’ Harriet told her, with a soft smile.

‘I sent out an SOS,’ said Grams.

They all shed their sodden coats and boots before everyone found a spare chair or cabinet to lean up against. Nico poured them all out a generous-sized glass of limoncello before sitting back down next to Flora.

‘Salute,’ he said, holding up his glass. ‘Cheers.’