Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage Read Online Free Page B

and herbs.
    I bring him into the stable where I give him a tiny feed and a small hay-net. I’m down to my last couple of flakes of hay, never a good feeling. Rafa digs up the bed of shavings that I made for him the night before and takes a couple of mouthfuls of hay before resting his leg and closing his eyes. I leave him to snooze, although I doubt he’ll sleep much with the throbbing of a tractor muckspreading in a nearby field, the cooing of wood pigeons and cawing of rooks, and the frantic clucking of one of Louise’s backyard hens that’s laying an egg.
    I return indoors to brush my hair and do my make-up, adding a touch of foundation with SPF, mascara and lip-gloss, before returning downstairs for breakfast. I knock at the door into the kitchen – I’m not sure if I’m supposed to order breakfast here, or wait in the dining room that’s set aside for the B&B guests.
    â€˜Come on in. There’s no need to knock. We don’t stand on ceremony.’ Louise beckons me across to the table before attending to a pan on the Aga. Ashley is sitting in front of a bowl of Rice Krispies, his head to one side, as if he’s concentrating on the noise they make as he pours milk on to them from a jug. The milk wells up over the rim of the bowl, spills on to the table and trickles towards the edge.
    â€˜Ashley, you’re spilling it,’ I say, at which Louise turns and grabs the jug from his hand.
    â€˜You’re making a mess, darling,’ she says, hardly raising her voice. She hands him a spoon which he drops on the floor – deliberately, I think. I pick it up, rinse it in the sink and wipe it with a tea towel printed with chickens. I put the spoon on the table within Ashley’s reach. He picks it up and starts eating his cereal without saying a word.
    â€˜Did you say thank you to Flick?’ Louise says, giving me a look of apology.
    He doesn’t look up, even when I sit down opposite him to eat a plateful of fried potato, bacon, sausages, egg, mushroom and tomatoes.
    His mum sends him off to clean his teeth and fetch his bag for school.
    â€˜You’ll have to bear with him, I’m afraid. He doesn’t mean to be rude.’
    â€˜It’s okay,’ I say, although I do feel a little confused by his behaviour. It’s as if he doesn’t want to know me.
    â€˜He has problems communicating and processing information, which means that he struggles with any form of social interaction. He goes to Talyton Primary where he has a Learning Support Assistant, but we’re under pressure to send him to a school for children with special needs instead.’ Her eyes grow glassy with tears. ‘Even though the other children do their best to include him, he knows he’s different. It’s very hard. Mel finds it particularly difficult to accept. He’s a real man’s man, very sociable and hardly stops talking. You’ll see when you meet him.’ She looks past me. ‘You made it in time for breakfast, I see. Mel, this is Flick.’
    â€˜So the cavalry’s arrived.’ I turn to see a thickset man, dressed in a tweed jacket over a check shirt and jeans; he’s walking stiffly over to the table, his back bowed. He shakes my hand, pumping it roughly up and down. ‘It’s great to meet you at last. Tone’s told me all about you. What’s he said about me?’
    â€˜That you’re a top bloke.’ Those were his exact words and I don’t mind repeating them. Mel seems pleased.
    â€˜We’ve been mates for many years. He was best man at our wedding, wasn’t he, Lou.’
    â€˜I’m surprised you remember,’ she says cheerfully. ‘Of course I remember.’ He moves around behind his wife, slides his arms around her waist and gives her a bear hug. ‘Getting shackled to you was the best day of my life.’
    â€˜Sit down, you charmer,’ she says, turning to kiss him on the