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Martha sighed. ‘If only. It’s the only way to compete with the big supermarkets though. If you’re in a hurry, I can get him to give you a call when he’s back.’
Rhys nodded. ‘It’s tough all around and I know us closing up early last summer didn’t help things.’
‘We know why your family did what they did, and no one around here blames you for it, Rhys. All we can do is hope for a peaceful and prosperous year that will benefit us all.’
It was good of her to say so, but Rhys still felt they’d failed the community by not finding a better way to head things off. ‘That’s certainly the plan. I’ll hang on a bit if you think Joe won’t be too long.’ Rhys held up his phone with a smile, hoping to lift the mood. ‘Besides, it’ll take me a while to find all this stuff Mum needs.’
Martha picked up the now-empty crate by her feet and placed it behind the counter before walking towards Rhys with a smile. ‘Why don’t you read the list out to me? It’ll be much quicker.’
‘You’re a lifesaver.’
Rhys followed Martha around the shop, reading out each item in turn. They criss-crossed the place half a dozen times, the list not in any order other than as things had occurred to his mum. He apologised when they ended up at the same section for the third time. ‘I should’ve organised my list a bit better.’
‘It’s fine. It’s not like we’re busy at the moment.’ Martha plucked a loaf of sourdough from the shelf and placed it in his basket. ‘What’s next?’
‘Coconut milk then fresh coriander and we’re done.’
‘That’s in the next aisle. So, how are things up at Juniper Meadows?’ she asked as she led him around to the next aisle then towards a display of fresh herbs and vegetables near the refrigerated section.
‘Busy, as always. Better now the snow’s cleared. Again.’ After a bright, mostly dry autumn, winter had arrived in the vale with a serious bang just before Christmas and dumped one load of snow after another. Just when they’d thought they’d got over the worst of it, another storm had blown through to coat the ground in yet another blanket of white. It might look beautiful if you were tucked up by the fire with a hot drink, but when you ran a farm it was an endless slog of wet boots, frozen fingers and stalled engines.
‘I think last weekend was supposed to be the last of it,’ Martha observed. ‘Well, that’s what the forecasters said.’
‘We live in hope,’ Rhys replied. ‘I’ve got so much to do to get things up and running with the campsite, but I’m stuck until the weather improves and the ground dries out a bit.’
Martha turned to face him and he didn’t miss the eagerness in her smile as she said, ‘You’re opening up again this year? We did wonder after everything that happened.’ A disgruntled former employee had waged a campaign of destruction on the estate, including setting a fire that had threatened the campsite. It had taken weeks to deal with all the refunds and cancellations that had followed, and their income had taken a serious hit.
Thanks to his Uncle Ziggy’s cautious oversight, the estate had had deep reserves they could call upon to tide them over and the whole family had worked hard to put on a number of events at the back end of the year, including a very popular Hallowe’en weekend to make up a good chunk of the losses they’d incurred over the summer. Rhys hadn’t made the most of the opportunities afforded by the campsite because the farm had simply taken up too much of his time, but he was determined to put that right this year.
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to Joe about – and you, of course. I’ve advertised for someone to come in and manage the camping business on the estate. I should be interviewing candidates in early March with a view to them starting as soon as possible after that. I want to expand what we’ve been doing with a view to making Juniper Meadows one of the most sought-after holiday spots in the area. Would you still be interested in running the satellite shop?’
As the campsite had grown over the years, they’d added facilities like a shower block and a small shop to supply guests with a few essentials Rhys had picked up from the cash and carry. Joe had come to him with a proposal that he and Martha take it over and the arrangement had suited everyone, especially the guests, who’d seen a vast improvement in service.
‘Oh, definitely! We’ve had loads of ideas about what we can do to increase what we offer for people staying. Have you seen these?’ Martha turned to point at the fridge next to them. A sign covered in hearts announced a Valentine’s Day Meal Deal beneath which Martha had grouped together ingredients in wicker baskets, each with a recipe card sticking out. A selection of wine and champagne was displayed next to the baskets. ‘I was thinking we could do something like this, but base it around barbeque items or one-pot cooking.’
Rhys picked up a card and scanned the clear and simple instructions for making coq au vin. He did his share around the farmhouse – everyone took it in turn to pitch in – but he was a rank amateur at cooking compared to the rest of the family. With something like this to follow he doubted even he’d be able to mess things up. ‘This is really great. Did you make these yourself?’
Martha nodded. ‘It didn’t take much as we already had the laminator.’ There was a little glow on her cheek, as if she was a touch embarrassed but pleased with herself at the same time. ‘You can take one to try, if you like.’
Rhys tucked the card back into the basket with a rueful smile. ‘I’m sure they’ll be in great demand today, so I’d hate to deprive some desperate husband later who’s left it to the last minute. Besides,’ he added with a laugh, ‘it’s a lot to eat for one person.’ There was no point in pretending he was anything other than single because the whole village would know every detail about his love life – or rather the lack of it.
‘I heard about Amelia and Ben moving in together,’ Martha said, which only went to prove his point. He didn’t miss the hint of sympathy in her tone, but resolutely ignored it. He and Amelia were old news years before his long-lost cousin had returned to the family the previous autumn, although the die-hard romantics among the local population had clearly not given up hope of a reunion.
‘It’s great, isn’t it? They’re such a good match for each other.’ He glanced down at the list on his phone. ‘Fresh coriander?’ He nudged Martha back to his shopping and away from the subject. Rhys had no hard feelings about his ex-girlfriend and his cousin getting together. It was true what he’d said before—Ben was much better suited to Amelia than Rhys had ever been. They shared an artistic temperament, whereas Rhys liked practical, tangible things. Things he could control. He could admire and appreciate paintings, but they didn’t speak to him and had certainly never moved his soul enough to ever consider picking up a pencil or a brush and trying to create something himself. Much to his mother’s chagrin.
‘Oh, of course!’
A couple of minutes later, he was standing at the counter waiting to pay when his phone rang. ‘Hello, Dad. What’s up?’
‘Lemons! I need more lemons. Are you still at the shop? The ones I’ve got have gone mouldy and I’ve already started the mix!’
‘I’m still here. Hold on a sec.’ Rhys headed back to the fresh fruit and veg section. ‘How many do you need?’ he asked as he picked up a net bag with half a dozen lemons in it.
‘About fifty. The whole tray is rotten. What the hell am I going to do? If I stop now I’ll lose the rest of the ingredients as well.’ Rhys could almost picture his father pacing up and down, one hand thrust into his wild hair as he lamented.
‘There’s only two small bags here. Hang on, let me check with Martha.’ Rhys pressed the phone to his chest while he explained his father’s dilemma. ‘Do you have any more stock out the back?’
Martha shook her head. ‘Sorry. Joe’s going to head over to the wholesaler’s once he’s finished the deliveries. Can it wait until this afternoon?’
