Page 8 of Not Just for Christmas

My stomach sank. Poor Mum and Dad. Now they were going to feel even worse. I gestured for Sam to give me the phone back.

‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ I said softly, ‘I’ll sort it. Speak to you soon. Bye for now.’

I ended the call and turned back to Sam, who was telling Heather all about the Nativity.

‘I’ve got to learn my words and sing some songs,’ he said, body wriggling with excitement.

‘I’ll help you practise them.’ I smiled and blinked as my eyes prickled with tears. Oh Jack, I still miss you so much.

‘And Nanny can’t wait to watch you. Save me a seat, won’t you?’ said Heather, bristling with as much pride as me. ‘It’ll get me in the mood perfectly for my Christmas market trip to Vienna with the girls.’

‘Of course,’ I promised. ‘I’ll order them tomorrow.’

It was a small school, with a tiny hall, and seats were limited. It was a nightmare for big families, but the Oakleys didn’t have that problem – there would only be Heather and me in the audience for Sam.

‘Shall we go in and have a cup of tea before I set off home?’ asked my mother-in-law.

‘I’d love to,’ I said, mustering a smile, ‘but I still have sawdust to spread in the clean cubicles.’

‘I’ll bring a mug out to you. And perhaps you’d like me to have a tidy-up while I’m in the kitchen, wipe the surfaces for you?’ she suggested, examining her fingernail.

‘No need to do that,’ I said, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. ‘I can manage.’

The kitchen might not be as pristine as it had once been, but Sam had no complaints. And if Heather thought the kitchen was untidy, she’d better not venture into the living room. The one saving grace of my parents not coming was that I wouldn’t have to sort out the spare room, which had become such a dumping ground that I couldn’t bear to set foot in it.

‘I know you can. Jack would be proud of you.’ My mother-in-law’s voice cracked a bit. ‘We all are.’

‘I bet no other mummies at my school put their hands up cows’ bottoms,’ Sam said with a giggle.

‘I don’t make a regular habit of it,’ I said sternly.

‘I bet no other mummies at your school are in charge of farms by themselves,’ said Heather, ruffling my son’s hair. ‘And when you’re old enough, you can take over, just like your daddy did from Grandad Jim and me.’

Sam’s little forehead creased. ‘I want to be a pilot and fly my aeroplane to see Granny Linda and Grandpa.’

‘Funny boy,’ said Heather, giving me a wink behind his back. ‘The Oakley boys are always farmers, it’s in their genes.’

‘What if I don’t want to put my hand up a cow’s bottom?’ Sam asked crossly.

‘Who’s ready to wash their hands and have one of Nanny’s Christmas cookies?’ Heather said, changing the subject.

‘Me!’ he cried.

We both laughed as Sam vaulted down from the gate and into the farmhouse.

‘Looks like cows’ bottoms are no competition for my cookies,’ said Heather.

‘And that’s a sentence I didn’t expect to hear today,’ I said, letting myself back into the milking shed.

Heather began to walk away, but then stopped in her tracks and turned round. ‘Thanks, Lucy.’

‘For what?’ I picked up the sawdust dispenser and prepared to switch it on to fill the stalls.

‘For keeping the farm,’ she said with a watery smile. ‘After Jack … left us, I was worried to death that you’d sell up. But because you haven’t, one day Sam can take over, and Merrydown Farm will stay in the family for another generation. It’s all Jim and I ever wanted. So thanks, love.’

A shiver ran down my spine as I watched Heather cross the yard and go inside. Farming might be in the Oakley genes, but it wasn’t in mine. Sam was my number one priority, the reason I got up every morning even when all I wanted to do was stay in bed with the curtains closed and wait for night to fall again. But running this place alone indefinitely was a daunting prospect. It could be another fifteen years before Sam was able to take over, if indeed he actually wanted to. Fifteen years of mucking out, of mending tractors, of spending day after day up to my ankles in cow shit, of not being able to take holidays, or visit my parents … What if they became ill, unable to travel to see us? I might never get to see them at all.

After Jack died, I’d been too numb to think about anything other than surviving. I’d sleepwalked through the days, just trying to keep my head above water. But Heather’s words were a wake-up call.