leisure centre and golf course on the site. They want to go all the way to the bottom of Old Joe’s property and take in parts of Hope Christmas woods too. It’s insane.’
‘But they can’t!’ said Marianne. The woods was a favourite haunt of hers with the children as they were too little still to manage long walks to the top of the hill, particularly one lovely little area where a local artisan had carved statues out of fallen logs. ‘That will destroy the views from the hill, let alone the wildlife and the space for the sheep to roam. Hope Christmas will never be the same again.’
Hope Christmas was such a special place, Marianne had always felt. It had the most perfect High Street, complete with lovely little trinket shops, a great bookshop, black and white buildings and even a quaint old antiques market. There was a thriving market during the week, and it had a lovely friendly community. Too small for major hotels, there were plenty of b&bs in town, catering for walkers and families of all ages, the usual kind of visitor to the town. A massive complex like this would have huge repercussions for the area, not least in the fact that it would change the landscape which brought the walkers in the first place.
‘They can, and they will, apparently,’ said Gabriel. ‘I ran into Archie Speers, and he said that Joe’s farm has passed to a great-nephew who isn’t interested and is going to sell up and doesn’t care what happens to the land.’
‘But what about Archie’s land, doesn’t some of it intersect with Joe’s?’
‘Yup,’ said Gabriel, ‘and they want to buy that bit off Archie.’
‘I hope Archie said no,’ said Marianne, looking appalled. This was looking serious. If they wanted to stop this development the whole town was going to have to get on board.
‘I think Archie’s in a difficult position, to be honest,’ said Gabriel. ‘You know he’s managing that farm all on his own. He’s been talking about downsizing for some time. It’s going to affect him either way. He may as well make some money out of it, I guess.’
He stared gloomily out of the kitchen window. Marianne only had to look at him to know what he was thinking. Gabriel was a country boy through and through: Hope Christmas was bound up in the fabric of his soul. A development on this scale could destroy the place they loved forever.
‘And Dan said they’ve had people sniffing round there asking about buying their farm,’ Gabe continued. ‘I hadn’t twigged there might be a connection with the developers till today. If everyone sells up, we won’t stand a chance.’
‘Pippa and Dan won’t sell,’ said Marianne quickly. The thought of Pippa’s farm going was unthinkable.
‘They wouldn’t have in the past,’ said Gabriel, looking sad, ‘and according to Dan, they’re still not planning to, but he hinted that things are a bit tight financially. I have a terrible feeling everything will be different once the divorce goes through.’
Marianne felt a cold clutch of fear on her heart. She had always assumed they’d stay here forever. The farms down the lane seemed immutable and unchanging, along with the valley, woods and hills which she loved so much. She couldn’t bear the thought of all that beauty being destroyed and a massive hotel complex being erected instead.
‘I wouldn’t mind so much,’ said Gabriel, ‘if they were actually building something that would benefit the whole town – starter homes that local kids could afford would be good. Or even a hotel for the walkers and usual visitors. But this isn’t what anyone needs. Not only will this development encroach too much on the hillside and destroy the views and the wildlife, but it sounds like it’s at the luxury end of the market. I’m guessing it will attract people who are more interested in making use of the facilities on site, than spending any time or money in Hope Christmas. I don’t think it’s going to do the local economy any good at all.’
‘It might not be as bad as that,’ said Marianne.
Gabriel gave her a withering look, so she added, ‘Ok, then, let’s not just sit fretting, we need a plan of action.’
‘Like what?’
‘Doing what we did with the eco town,’ said Marianne firmly. When she’d first come to Hope Christmas, she and Gabe had been part of a successful campaign to prevent an eco town being built not too far away which, before work was halted, had caused a flood that nearly destroyed the town. ‘We need to act and fast. I’ll ring Pippa straight away.’
Gabriel looked sceptical.
‘I don’t know if that would work this time, this company, LK Holdings I think they’re called, actually owns the land. And with the eco town we had the fact it was a potential environmental disaster on our side.’
‘We’ve done it before, we can do it again,’ said Marianne. ‘And if we don’t fight to save Hope Christmas, no one else will.’
Day Twenty Eight. 5am
I really don’t know if this is helping. Seems like a lot of psychological bollocks to me. It’s early in the morning and I can’t sleep, so here I am staring at a blank screen. For what? I don’t know what to say, and when I do write stuff down it makes me feel worse. I start thinking about what I’ve lost – particularly the kids. I miss them so much, even though I see them every day. Thinking about it makes everything seem much blacker. I’m not sure it’s worth the aggro, and quite frankly I’d rather be milking cows.
Or spending time with Pippa. But that’s not even an option anymore. I can’t afford to go there. When I think about her, it feels like I’m being punched in the guts. I know I’ve done the right thing letting her go. I was holding her back, stopping her from having the future she deserves. She needs a whole man, not a damaged one.
But Jo keeps telling me to persevere … So here I am again …
The thing is, I feel such a failure. My marriage was the one thing I thought I could always count on in my life. I thought it would pull me through anything. I knew Pippa was always going to be there for me, that we would grow old and contented together.
I don’t remember much about the accident. Just bits from the hospital: Pippa crying and not knowing why; the kids looking scared; my mum being sad. And then this fog in my brain. A fog which never quite seems to have lifted since. I know Pippa says she can cope with my mood swings, and the blackness that sometimes swamps me, and the way I get vague from time to time, but I just can’t ask her to do it. I love her too much to take her down with me.
But now she’s talking about selling the farm. Seems we can’t afford to run it if we’re not married anymore. I thought leaving Pippa was for the best, but now things seem worse than ever and it’s killing me. But Pippa deserves her chance at happiness. I have to hang on to that. It’s the only thing I’ve got.
I didn’t talk to anyone about getting divorced. Maybe I should have, but what was the point? I walked out on my marriage a year ago, for the sake of my family; I wasn’t doing any of them any good. And though every day away from them is painful and difficult, I know I’m doing the right thing. For all of us …
