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Chapter 34
Mitch rose early, it was still dark. He headed for the shower. He had moved back into his marital home, the part of his parent’s house that he had shared with Vanessa. When he had left a year ago to look after Booth Somerset, it had felt as if he was running away and not facing up to it. Yes, Sid had needed him, so he would have gone anyway. But if the accident had not happened, Vanessa would have accompanied him. Winter had been tough; the wind had thrashed across the flat land with heavy rains flooding some of the fields. His father had been pleased for his help.
Mitch dried himself and pulled on his clothes. He was due to speak to Greg, the herdsman, in Somerset. They had a weekly call because Mitch still managed Booth Somerset remotely. His mother had co-ordinated the farmers’ market during the remainder of the summer months. There had been some interest from prospective buyers when Booth Somerset had initially been placed on the market, but with continued economic uncertainties, it became apparent that the farming community were reluctant to take on new ventures.
Mitch put on his coat, opened the door and headed over to the sheep. His thoughts turned to Holly. The farmers’ market had done well and he understood it would reconvene, next month. He felt bad about the way he had left Eversley, like a wounded animal – but things had not been right. He knew he should have gone over there to see her. Holly had invited Mitch to Eversley for the reopening of the nursery buildings, but he had to decline. It was lambing season and his parents were away on an extended holiday, celebrating his father’s sixtieth. He’d explained to Holly in an email that he was tied to the farm during his parents’ absence, although he guessed she would have thought it was an excuse. After a three-month adventure, his parents were due back and were currently travelling through France.
Mitch approached the lambing sheds where the young ewes were kept. The older sheep were left in the fields but the first-time pregnant ewes were kept in the shed in case they needed a helping hand. Also inside were those sheep expecting twins or triplets. They needed to eat well and had to be separated rather than left to fight for food with the rest of the flock. The ewes’ wombs had been scanned so he knew exactly how many lambs each animal was expecting. By splitting them like this, he could monitor their feeding and nutrition. Mitch was all for managed farming. It not only made his life easier but it was better for the animals.
As he opened the shed door, Mitch was met with the noise of ferocious bleating. A lamb stood beside a motionless ewe.Not another one,he thought.This was the third ewe to die during labour that week. He guessed it might be a breeding issue, as the dead ewes were from the same bloodline. His father would have to consider that for the next breeding programme. Mitch did not intend to be involved with the lambing season the following year – he wanted to spread his wings. Maybe go into teaching and lecture at one of the agricultural colleges. Knowing it was time for a serious change in his life, he planned a visit to Cirencester Agricultural College about a vacancy they had for a lecturer.
Mitch extracted the colostrum from the dead sheep’s teat using a tube and fed it to the orphan. He knew from experience that those nutrients were stronger than any man-made supplements.
‘Now to get you adopted,’ he said.
There was a first-time ewe who had given birth to a stillborn the previous day and he had kept the poor lamb’s skin before its body was disposed of. Mitch collected the skin and tied it around the new-born’s neck. The ewe had been separated from the other sheep, so he took the lamb over to her, watching as they sat – one each side of the pen with the lamb bleating and the ewe looking on. Leaving them to it, he hoped they would bond. There was never a quiet moment during lambing season, and he went about the rest of his day.
Two days later,Mitch gave his parent’s lounge and kitchen a clean through. His mother had texted and he was expecting them in half an hour.
He soon heard the throaty sound of his father’s classic Range Rover and opened the front door.
His mother, rushed over, grabbing him for a hug. Stepping back, she gave him the once over. ‘You look much better, Mitch. How do you feel?’
‘Great, Mum. I think the last few months have done me good.’
His father, entered, looking frazzled and slapped him on the back. ‘Good to see you, son.’
‘I’ll get your cases in.’ Mitch fetched their luggage, noticing that they had a lot more than they had left with.
Mitch sat down in the lounge, his parents sitting on the sofa opposite.
His mother clutched her cup of tea. ‘Nothing like a proper brew. So what’s next, Mitch? Do you think you’ll stay on?’
‘I’d love to stay with you guys, but I was thinking of lecturing and am considering a position in Cirencester.’
‘Really?’
‘I might study a PHD alongside it.’
‘Blimey, that’s new,’ his dad said.
‘New is what I need.’
‘What about Eversley? Had any thoughts there?’ his mother asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Mitch pursed his lips. He was well aware of what she was getting at, but he was not going to discuss Holly with her.
She continued. ‘We’ve not had much interest from anyone wanting to buy the farm – although it’s starting to turn a profit, I see.’
‘We’ll have a board meeting about it,’ his dad said. ‘Might be worth keeping it on, rather than dropping the price.’
‘Will you visit the farm now we’re back? Someone needs to go over and do the staff reviews,’ his mum added.
‘I’m sure Greg can manage that. We could give him a promotion,’ Mitch said.
‘It’d be nice if you could promote him in person.’ His mum peered over her mug as she sipped her tea.
Mitch took a deep breath.
