as though he’d only just closed them, he forced his gritty eyes open to find himself nose-to-nose with Noah’s teddy bear. He flinched back at the unexpected sight. ‘Huh? What?’
His mum, Sally, crossed the room to open the curtains, causing him to fling an arm across his face to shield himself from the already bright sunlight. ‘Have a heart, Mum!’ Two seconds later he was sitting bolt upright in bed. ‘Where’s Noah?’
His mum finished opening the top window, then turned to regard him. ‘He’s downstairs finishing his breakfast. I popped in earlier, but you were dead to the world, so I thought I’d let you sleep a bit longer.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘It smells dreadful in here.’
Adjusting his pillows so he could lean against the headboard, Jack reached for the steaming mug of black coffee on his bedside cabinet with an appreciative sigh. ‘We’re men, we smell. It’s the law.’
She laughed. ‘Apparently so.’ Her expression sobered. ‘Noah’s a bit quiet this morning, did he say anything to you?’
Jack swallowed a mouthful of the hot, bitter brew, grateful for the energising power of caffeine. ‘Only that he had that dream where he couldn’t find his dad again. He went straight off to sleep after a hot drink.’ The next slurp of coffee finally kicked his brain into full gear, and a feeling of dread stole over him. ‘What time did you say it was?’
‘Just after eight.’
He threw back the covers with his free hand, almost spilling his coffee in his haste to get out of bed. ‘Bloody hell, I need to get a move on. I’m supposed to be planting the top of the south field.’
The weather had taken a dip after the Easter holidays and had only settled down over the past couple of weeks. A decent stretch of sunny days had dried and warmed the soil sufficiently for him to be able to transfer last year’s cuttings from the greenhouse to the fields. Clearing the old plants in preparation had been miserable, muddy work so it would be nice to be out there and feel the sun on his back.
‘I’m sorry, Jack, I just thought an extra hour would do you good, especially after you’d been up with Noah.’
Though he appreciated his mum’s intentions, he wished she hadn’t let him sleep in. With Jason gone, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to get everything done. He’d have to bite the bullet and hire some extra help soon, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it yet. They had seasonal helpers at harvest time, and he hoped that between him and his mum they could make it through until then.
Taking the step to replace Jason would be a final acceptance of everything they’d lost, and he just wasn’t ready to try and work alongside someone else. They might not have seen eye to eye on everything, but he and Jason had lived and breathed lavender since they were children and knew the inner workings of the farm by heart.
Catching sight of the worry lines on his mum’s brow, Jack finished off the last of his coffee then bent to brush a quick kiss on her cheek. ‘It’s fine, Mum. You did the right thing. Thanks for the coffee, and for seeing to Noah.’
Sally took the mug from his hand. ‘Give me that. Go and have your shower. I’ll rustle you up a bacon sandwich and a thermos to take out with you, and then I’ll get Noah off to school…’ She paused by the door. ‘…Or he can stay home for a few days? I can make sure he keeps up with everything.’ The hope in her voice was enough to break his heart. She’d given up her career as a university lecturer to pursue a dream of raising her sons away from the rampant consumerism of modern life. Having missed so much of their growing up thanks to long hours spent climbing the corporate ladder, their father had been in wholehearted agreement at his wife’s decision to home-school both Jack and Jason. Their lessons had been scheduled to fit around working life on the farm and had involved as much about life as they did the curriculum.
The isolation had never bothered Jack. After being a latchkey kid, he’d been thrilled to have so much of his parents’ attention, but it had been another thorn in Jason’s side and something he’d been determined not to repeat with his own son. Feeling torn between honouring his brother’s wishes and the naked need in his mother’s eyes, Jack clenched his fist against his thigh. ‘I think it’s important to keep Noah to his regular routine, don’t you?’
She flinched as though he’d struck her, before fixing on a bright smile that failed to get anywhere near her eyes. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m just being overly sentimental. The last thing he needs is me fussing all over him.’
This was his life now, it seemed—hurting one person in order to honour his promise to another. Ignoring the stab of guilt in his heart, Jack faked his own smile. ‘You can fuss over me anytime, Mum.’
‘Get on with yourself.’ She shooed him towards the bathroom, her smile genuine this time, much to Jack’s relief.
True to her word, there was a foil-wrapped package and a thermos waiting on the kitchen table for him, together with a large water bottle, an apple and a banana. Jack finished rolling back the cuffs on the old checked shirt he’d slung over jeans and a T-shirt, then scooped up the food and drink to stow it in the rucksack he used to cart his bits and pieces around. Exiting the kitchen via the boot room, he stomped his feet into his work boots, tied the laces and headed out the back door.
Jack stowed his bag in the front of the sky-blue compact tractor parked in the yard, then pulled out the safety checklist book from beneath the seat. Their dad had been fanatical about safety, and his sons had carried on in the same tradition.
Nothing moved until it had been checked, even on days like this when Jack was running behind schedule. Satisfied the flat-bed trailer behind the tractor was hitched correctly, he circled both trailer and tractor, checking the tyres as well as the general condition of the bodywork. The engine came next—oil and fluid levels, connections, belts and hoses were all surveyed for wear. Last came the cab where everything was in order, well, once he’d cleaned the mirrors and wiped a layer of dust from the inside of the front window.
The greenhouse lay beyond the main farmhouse on the other side of the distillery, next to an old farmworker’s cottage. Jack trundled out of the yard, pausing to check the driveway in front of the house was clear before he ventured further. Their old battered Land Rover was nowhere to be seen, so the school run was already underway. Confident he could move around without risk to anyone else, Jack followed the driveway to his destination. Pulling up outside the cottage, Jack made a mental note to track down the keys for the place and have a nose around.
He and Jason had used it as a hideaway when they’d been kids, but it had been empty for a long time. His mum had talked about moving in there—said she wanted her own space away from all the testosterone in the farmhouse. Only they’d lost Jason, and she’d put her plans on hold to help Jack. Perhaps it was time for him to pick up the slack. Noah wasn’t the only one who would benefit from sticking to a routine. It was time to stop fire-fighting and accept the new status quo. The farm was his responsibility now and so was Noah. If he could get the cottage into a habitable state it would give his mum the space she craved whilst giving Jack room to breathe. He knew she only wanted what was best for them all, but if she kept making decisions about Noah without consulting him they could end up on a collision course.
A waft of warm air greeted him as he tugged open the greenhouse door. After propping it open, he dropped the tailgate of the trailer and began to transfer the first row of black plastic pots from the greenhouse. He’d taken the cuttings from the previous year’s new plants, a process they followed annually to ensure they preserved the quality and consistency of their crop. Although small now, the plants would spread and thrive within just a few short weeks, filling the air with their
