Greener Grass

ONE

Lucy Valentine walked down the sun-soaked street, unaware she was walking into the worst afternoon of her life.

The smell of coffee and cinnamon drifted up at her. She hoped it wouldn’t be cold; typical of Phil to go home for lunch, the one day she’d decided to drop into the garage to surprise him. Not that the extra walk was going to deter Lucy. Today was the day they were going to have the talk. They’d been together three years. It was high time he moved in with her.

Lucy was on the cusp of starting her new life: the family meeting Uncle Vince had arranged that afternoon had to be to announce she'd be taking over the farm full-time. What better way to do it than with the man she loved by her side?

Lucy fizzed with excitement as she made her way through the creaking gate, past the patch of tangled lawn that Phil claimed he left wild to attract bees and butterflies – but which Lucy privately suspected he neglected because he preferred spending Sunday afternoons playing football, or in the pub, to mowing the grass.

She smiled fondly as she eased the spare key out from under the flowerpot by the door, hoping he wouldn’t miss this place too much. But Phil always seemed so happy to be at the farm. It was one of things she loved best about him.

‘Hello,’ Lucy said as she let herself in.

A shaft of sunlight illuminated a kitchen sink full of washing up, but there was no sign of Phil. Continuing the search, Lucy took the stairs two at a time, hardly pausing before opening the bedroom door.

Then she froze, her brain unable to process the scene in front of her.

Carly, the garage receptionist, naked on the bed. Her ample breasts beaded with sweat as she bobbed up and down, displaying all the misguided enthusiasm of a novice rider trying to master the rising trot.

The colour drained from her face as her eyes locked on to Lucy’s.

Lucy’s gaze slid lower, down to the legs of Carly’s mount, resting on the blue and white stripes of the duvet Lucy had bought.

A hand appeared on Carly’s breast, her mount clearly unaware of the interruption. Lucy stared in horror at the distinctive tribal tattoo on the muscled forearm, everything unravelling inside her. A scream started to rise in her stomach, but before it could escape Carly let out a yelp of her own, scrabbling for her clothes as she ungainly dismounted.

‘What the fuck?’ Her companion sat up, this time his eyes locking onto Lucy’s. ‘Fuck, Lucy, this isn’t what it looks like.’

‘Really?’ Lucy’s voice was faint, caught on the lump in her throat. ‘I hope not, because it looks like Carly’s riding you reverse cow-girl style on the bedspread that I bought.’

Lucy stared into Phil’s piercing green eyes, that had captivated her from the first time they met, willing him to speak. To give her a plausible alternative. Or even an implausible one. Anything to unbreak her fast-shattering heart.

Phil stared mutely back.

And that could only mean one thing: this was, in fact, exactly what it looked like.

Lucy let out a wail as the lunch bag fell to the floor, the scent of cinnamon and coffee filling the room. Then she turned and fled.

**********

‘But why can’t I?’ Angel Valentine flashed her china blue eyes, only just stopping herself from adding it’s so unfair and stamping her foot. That wouldn’t do at all. She had to be responsible. Show her maturity with a rational argument.

‘We’ve been through this,’ her father Vince replied with a tired sigh. ‘You’re too young to be there on your own.’

‘Too young? I’m in my prime! No one signs models over eighteen – tell him, Mum.’

Verity shifted on the burnt orange sofa, looking warily at her daughter. ‘No one’s saying you can’t accept the representation offer,’ she carefully replied. ‘It’s just the living situation. There’s no reason you can’t do it from here – we’ll manage the travel when jobs come in.’

Angel stared at her mother, scandalised. Being a model was her lifelong dream. A dream that Verity – once a model herself – had always encouraged. The hours they’d spent playing dress up when Angel was young, Verity snapping away as she talked Angel through developing her poses, being natural for the camera. What had that all been for, if she wasn’t going to support her when it mattered?

Angel narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you seriously suggesting I commute to London for every job? It’s hours away. How will I ever be able to respond to last minute casting calls? You know how these things work – it’s all about being available.’ She was aware of the edge of desperation in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been trying for months to get signed by an agency. Now that she finally had an offer, there was no way she was letting her parents ruin it.

Verity dropped her eyes.

Angel knew she was weakening. Moving in for the kill she crossed the sitting room, her wedged sandals clacking loudly on the parquet floor, and picked up a framed photograph from the mahogany sideboard.

‘How old were you then?’ She thrust the picture at her mother.

Verity took it, unable to stop a slight smile. The image showed her and two of her model friends, all in hotpants, platforms and mirror shades as they adopted a girl power pose, the backdrop of the Notting Hill Carnival bathed in August sun behind them.

‘Nineteen,’ she reluctantly replied.

Angel gave a triumphant smile as she replaced the picture. ‘See? You were almost the same age as me, and it didn’t do you any harm.’

‘You’re not your mother,’ Vince replied before Verity had a chance.

Angel turned to him, determined not to back down. ‘No, I’m me. And this whole thing shouldn’t even be an issue for me – I should be in London anyway.’ She paused, thinking wistfully of the townhouse in leafy Barnes that had been her childhood home. That should’ve stayed her home, if it hadn’t been for her father’s ridiculous notion of returning here to run his family’s farm. It hadn’t seemed quite so bad while she’d still been at her Surrey boarding school, but that was over now. Did he seriously expect her to live here?

A fresh wave of injustice swept through her. ‘It’s your fault we had to move to this hovel!’ Angel gestured dramatically around the beautifully decorated front room of the bungalow Vince had built on the edge of the farmland, with its white walls, high ceiling and patio doors, displaying a spectacular view of the rolling fields below. ‘How do you expect me to ever have a life when I’m stuck here in the arse end of nowhere?’

Vince pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he took a deep breath. ‘Don’t be such a diva, Angel. You know why we have to be here.’

‘No, I know why you have to be here – there’s no reason for me to be. I’m eighteen now, I should be allowed to follow my own dreams, not be trapped in yours.’ Angel folded her arms, staring defiantly at her father.

Vince gave a tired sigh. ‘You’re right. You’re eighteen, and you’re free to do what you want. But that doesn’t mean we have to enable you. If you want to go and live in London, then do so – but you’ll need to pay your own way. You’re not staying in the flat. I’m going to look for a new tenant.’

‘But -’

‘No, Angel,’ Vince interrupted. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s final.’

Angel opened her mouth again, but she couldn’t find the words. Her father had a determined look in his eyes that she’d only ever seen once before; when he told her they were leaving London, coming back to the farm. It was the only time in her life she hadn’t been able to change his mind.

She glanced at her mother, but Verity dropped her eyes. Angel felt a flash of anger. She loved her mother, but could be so weak sometimes. It was the same when Vince had moved them down here – the one time Angel needed her mother in her corner, needed her to fight, and there was nothing.

It was happening again now, and there was still nothing Angel could do about it. She couldn’t hold back the frustration boiling in her. ‘It’s so unfair,’ she shouted, finally giving in to the impulse to stamp her foot. ‘And you can forget me coming to your family meeting this afternoon,’ she added as she yanked open the patio door to make her escape. ‘I hate this family!’

*********

Lucy heard her mother call to her as she came in through the front door.

‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ she shouted in reply as she took the stairs two at a time. Her heart pounded as she tried to stem her emotions. How could Phil do this to her? She’d thought they were solid, the real deal. How had she got it so wrong?

She glanced around her bedroom, a flash pain in her chest as she looked at her bed, with its rickey frame and faded lemon bedspread. How many times had she fallen asleep cuddled up to Phil there? How would she ever sleep without him?

Eric, the large ginger farm cat, opened a baleful eye from where he was sleeping at the foot of the bed.

‘Fat lot of help you were,’ Lucy said, remembering how Eric used to sleep cuddled into Phil’s leg. She’d always taken Eric’s approval as a positive sign, an indication that Phil was a good man.

Eric yawned widely as he got up and stretched, unconcerned that his bullshit-boyfriend detection ability had been called into question.

Lucy looked away from the bed. She had to stop thinking about it. Uncle Vince was downstairs, about to announce she was taking over the farm. She couldn’t let that cheating rat ruin the moment.

With a huge effort, Lucy tried to re-focus her mind. She’d been waiting for this day forever – well, for the last seven years at least. Since Vince had come home from London to take over. Lucy shuddered as she remembered that first family meeting, Vince outlining the direness of their financial situation, how close they were to losing the farm.

They’d re-mortgaged then to save it, but Lucy knew it might not be enough. She’d been planning ever since, paying close attention to their neighbouring farmers, how they’d diversified to survive. Lucy knew that was the answer - but it was going to take something radical to change their fortunes. Every day for the last seven years, she’d felt the burden of responsibility weighing on her, drawing her ever closer to the inevitable day she’d take over. She had to be ready. She couldn’t let her dad down by letting the farm fail.

Every decision she’d made had been with the goal of finding a way back to financial stability. Even enrolling on her Business Studies degree had been a means to an end, a way to learn how to make a business succeed, to draw up a blueprint of how to make the farm succeed. And now it was finally time to make the plan a reality. Everything had been leading up to today.

Lucy took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of Phil firmly away. There’d be time to unpack them later, but right now, she had to focus on the farm.

It was time for Lucy to make her dad proud.

All the family were already at the table large pine table that dominated the farmhouse kitchen when Lucy made her way in.

‘Hello, love.’ Tess paused in pouring tea from a giant pot to smile at her daughter.

Lucy took in her mother’s flushed face, her unruly blonde curls refusing to be contained by the ancient bobble holding them, her rainbow striped tunic smeared with flour, and wished her mother didn’t always look such a state. Then immediately felt disloyal; she’d been trying to appreciate her mother more recently. She forced herself to smile back as she sat down, taking in the table crammed with scones and cheese straws warm from the oven. Tess must have been baking all morning.

‘Congratulations again on the degree, Lucy.’ Aunt Verity smiled warmly at her. ‘A first – you must be so thrilled.’

‘Thanks, I’m just glad all the studying is finally over.’ Lucy gave her aunt what she hoped was a reassuring smile, trying to hide her surprise at seeing her in attendance. Not that it was completely unheard of for Verity to venture as far as the farmhouse, but Lucy was still touched she’d made the effort.

‘Hopefully you don’t feel too bad after all the celebrating last night,’ Uncle Vince added with a smile of his own.

‘Not as bad as I deserve.’ Lucy smiled weakly back, thoughts of last night conjuring up unwelcome memories of Phil.

She turned to her dad, eager for a change of subject. ‘Hi, Dad.’ She reached across to squeeze his hand.

Roger met his daughter’s eyes, but he didn’t reply. He never did.

‘Thanks again for the spread, Tess,’ Vince said as Tess finally stopped pouring. ‘I didn’t mean for you to go to so much trouble.’

‘No trouble at all,’ Tess replied. ‘It’s nice to see you all.’

‘It’s nice to see you too,’ Vince replied, but his tone dropped. ‘I just wish it was better news that I’d called everyone together for.’

Lucy tensed: what could be better news than her finally taking over, now she’d graduated? What if he’d decided he wanted to stay on the farm long term himself? She hadn’t even considered that possibility. A slow nagging started in the pit of her stomach.

‘As you know,’ Vince continued as everyone turned their attention to him. ‘The farm has had a rough time financially since Roger’s illness.’

Lucy caught the flash of sadness in her father’s eye. She wanted to go to him, remind him he wasn’t to blame, but Vince carried on before she had the chance.

‘And the last few years, since the pandemic, have been the most challenging of all. We’ve barely survived.’ He looked straight at Lucy as he continued. ‘I didn’t want to worry you while you were studying for your exams, but the situation has become critical.’

The nagging feeling in Lucy’s stomach got worse. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go at all. ‘But we’re okay, aren’t we?’ she hesitantly asked. ‘The mortgage money must have kept us afloat?’

‘Yes,’ Vince replied, ‘but only just. And it’s taken almost all the money just to survive.’

‘What?’ Lucy felt panic rising. She’d banked on there being a good chunk of capital left – she was going to need it to realise her plans. She knew she could make the farm a success, but only with significant changes. And that meant investment.

‘I’m sorry, Lucy,’ Vince continued. ‘I wanted us to keep going as long as we could, at least until you graduated, but I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the road. We’re haemorrhaging money.’

Lucy felt dizzy. She couldn’t let her dad down, let all her plans go to waste. ‘I can turn it around. I just need some time, and some cash to invest. It’s all I’ve been planning for – you know that!’

Vince’s expression softened. ‘I know how hard you’ve worked on your plans, but I’m sorry, there just isn’t any money to realise them.’

‘We could re-mortgage again,’ Lucy desperately said.

Vince shook his head slowly. ‘We’re over leveraged as it is. The bank won’t help with anymore.’

‘A business loan, then? I’m sure I could get investment.’

‘I doubt it.’ Vince spoke with all the authority of someone who’d spent his entire career working in high finance, before returning to the farm. ‘You’d be unlikely to get investment with no capital, no immediate serviceability and no tangible business experience.’

Lucy’s emotions spiralled. She knew her voice was raised, but she couldn’t help it. ‘We have to do something, at least try to find a way forward!’

Vince didn’t reply immediately. His eyes flicked to Tess, before returning to her.

‘The thing is,’ he continued, ‘we’ve been approached to sell. It’s a good offer,’ he added in response to Lucy’s stunned silence. ‘A developer looking for housing sites. They think we could have potential.’

Lucy opened her mouth, but no words came out. The thought of selling the farm, her family home, her dad’s legacy, was unthinkable. She didn’t dare look at him, couldn’t bear to see the disappointment she knew would be in his eyes.

Tess put a gentle hand on her arm, bringing Lucy out of her jumbled thoughts.

‘I know it’s a shock, love, but we need to think about it. About what’s best – for all of us.’

Lucy rounded on her, eyes narrowing. ‘Did you know about this?’

Tess’s lip quivered, and Lucy knew she had. She glanced at Aunt Verity, her downcast eyes indicating she’d been in the know as well. Then finally she faced her father. Roger’s expression was troubled, the disappointment she’d been expecting closer to sadness. It pierced Lucy’s heart, a fresh surge of anger welling up in her. How could they do this to Roger, after everything he’d been through? The farm was his life - and it was the life he’d always intended Lucy to inherit. She wasn’t going to let anyone take it away. She couldn’t let her dad down.

‘No.’ Lucy’s chair grated against the slate floor as she stood. ‘We’re not selling. I’ll find a way to save it – whatever it takes.’

She was dizzy, her emotions spiralling all over again, threatening to spill out. She had to get out before they did.

For the second time that afternoon, Lucy turned and fled.