Page 65 of Not Just for Christmas

‘Nobody’s irreplaceable, love, even me,’ he said with a wink. ‘I bet some strapping youngster will snap your hand off for the chance to work in a lovely place like this. And it is special, you know. There’s nowhere on earth like it. I’ll miss it.’

‘And Sam and I will miss you.’ I blinked as tears brimmed in my eyes.

‘Don’t cry, love.’ He took a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose. ‘I feel bad enough as it is.’

‘In that case, stay for three more months, with a pay rise,’ I pleaded. ‘That’ll give me time to find a worthy replacement. Please, what do you say?’

I held out my hand and held my breath. Pete locked eyes with me, an array of emotions flickering over his face.

‘Oh go on then,’ he groaned, taking my hand. ‘It’s a deal.’

‘You won’t regret it!’ I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight.

‘I already do,’ he grumbled. ‘Now if it’s all the same to you, I’m going in to make us a pot of tea. My tongue feels like sandpaper.’

‘I’ll be in in a minute too,’ I said, taking my phone out of my pocket. ‘I need to check on my parents first.’

It took my mum several rings to answer the call.

‘Hello love,’ she said, sounding out of breath. ‘It’s so nice to hear from you. How are things?’

‘Great!’ I said brightly, watching Pete disappear into the farmhouse. I had no intention of sharing my bad news with them. ‘Busy! How about you two, wasn’t Dad due to come out of hospital today?’

‘He was, but he … oof.’ There was a clattering sound in the background followed by some muffled swearing.

‘Mum? Is everything all right?’ I pressed the phone closer to my ear, trying to work out what was going on.

‘Not really, darling,’ said Mum querulously. ‘In fact I’d go so far as to say that everything’s pretty bloody awful.’

‘What’s happened?’ My chest tightened with panic. ‘Is it Dad?’

‘Bear with me,’ she grunted. ‘I was heading to a chair, and I’ve dropped my crutches.’

‘Your crutches?’ I cried in dismay.

‘Yep,’ said Mum flatly. ‘I’ve only gone and broken my bloody ankle.’

‘What? How, when?’ I sank down onto the stool that Pete had been sitting on.

‘I was rushing to leave the house to pick up your father and fell down the stairs,’ she said. ‘I’ve spent all day in the same hospital as your dad, having X-rays and whatnot, and finally came home in plaster without him because the doctor said I wasn’t fit to look after anyone else.’

The thought of my mum on her own, falling down the stairs, and Dad in hospital waiting to be collected broke my heart. How awful for them both.

‘Poor you, and poor Dad,’ I cried. ‘I wish I could come over and look after you.’

‘We’re fine, don’t you worry about us,’ said Mum before bursting into tears.

‘But I do worry.’ I blinked back my own unshed tears. ‘And I’m so, so sorry I’m not there to help.’

‘Me too, love,’ said Mum, ‘me too.’

After promising to get Sam to FaceTime her soon, I ended the call. I wandered back to the farmhouse, kicking my boots through the muddy yard. I felt like the worst daughter in the world. If I had any other job, I could make my excuses, jump on a plane and be in Australia by tomorrow. Try booking annual leave when your day is ruled by a herd of cows. There were one hundred acres of land at Merrydown Farm and Jack had revelled in the space and the freedom they gave him, but right now, I felt suffocated by them.

Pete was waiting for me outside the kitchen door.

‘Bad news I’m afraid.’ He handed me my tea.

‘Don’t say we’ve run out of biscuits?’ I said, wrapping my hands around the mug. ‘I’ve had enough bad news for one day.’