Page 37 of A New Family at Puddleduck Farm (Puddleduck Farm #6)

‘That sounds absolutely brilliant,’ Sam told Phoebe later that night, when Lily was in bed, having had a goodnight kiss from both of her parents, and Phoebe had just told him about her afternoon. ‘Do you think she’ll really do it?’

He hoped she would. It would be one less demand on Phoebe’s time.

‘I think she actually might. She was really lovely. And it would take the pressure off Maggie. It would be really good to get someone involved who can give some time to it. Do you remember when we were first talking about the Voice for Wildlife campaign, I envisaged someone being able to go out and do talks. I think Connie would be perfect for that. She was a performance poet in her youth, apparently. She’s really eloquent.

It’s a shame she hasn’t made any money out of it.

She showed us some of her stuff. It’s very amusing. ’

‘I’ll look forward to seeing some of that, and I guess not everyone can be as successful as Pam Ayres. Especially with that rural Berkshire accent she uses. Does Connie have an accent?’

‘Not that I noticed. But she was talking about successful poets and saying how rare they were. She repeated some quote.’ Phoebe screwed up her face.

‘Something like, “There’s no money in poetry. But then there’s no poetry in money either.

” I’m not sure if it was hers or if it was someone else who said it originally. ’

Sam googled it on his phone. ‘It was Robert Graves according to Reddit. He wrote war poems apparently.’ He hadn’t heard of Robert Graves, although he was sure he should have done.

‘Anyway, you’re right. It’s absolutely brilliant.

Fingers crossed she comes to see Maggie.

It sounds like they’d make a great team. ’

Roxie had sauntered across to see what all the excitement was about and Sam leaned down to stroke her soft head. The dalmatian leaned into his fingers. Roxie treated him as her number one human these days, but that was probably because he spent a lot more time with her than Phoebe did.

‘Anyway, enough of me,’ Phoebe continued. ‘How was your day? Did you go and see Marjorie?’

‘I did, and she’s more than happy for me to start doing some teaching when the weather’s a bit warmer. She said one or two of my former students still go there riding.’

‘But I thought you wanted to start teaching from here? What’s the point of starting it up again at Brook? I thought you were just going to speak to her so you could make sure you weren’t stepping on her toes.’

‘I’m planning to do both. Marjorie’s doing less, not more, so I don’t think I’ll be stepping on her toes.

My plan is to work there as well as set something up here.

But I don’t think building an indoor school here is viable, Pheebs.

At least not until I’m more established.

An outdoor school could work though. It would be relatively cheap to do.

There’s just the lighting and the all-weather floor.

Now, that is definitely doable. And there’s room. ’

‘That sounds great. Yes, it’s sensible. You’ve been doing your homework.’

Sam clicked his tongue. ‘I’m looking at it as a long-term sustainable enterprise.’ He hesitated. There was something else he wanted to talk to her about too. Something else he’d been investigating. He wondered if this was the right moment to raise it.

Phoebe’s mobile rang and he saw her glancing towards it and paused.

She looked at him. ‘Sorry. I need to get this.’

The call turned out to be Max wanting to ask her advice on a call-out he was doing, and by the time they’d finished speaking it was late, and the moment for the conversation Sam had been planning to have had passed.

He’d been slightly relieved. There would be a right time. And although, strictly speaking, he didn’t believe in fate intervening, he was happy to accept that tonight wasn’t it. Sam had always trusted his instincts.

* * *

Meanwhile, the daily routines of life went on.

February was much milder than January had been.

Clumps of bright yellow daffodils began to appear in the sunnier corners of Puddleduck Farm and the grass had started to grow in the dog field.

Despite all the activity of people and dogs walking on it daily – the dog field was turning out to be a great money earner – it wouldn’t be that long before it would need its first mow of the season.

Most excitingly of all, Lily began to crawl.

This made life harder work as she no longer stayed in one place.

But it was also a joyful time for Sam and Phoebe who constantly told her how clever she was.

Roxie wasn’t so impressed, as the baby crawled determinedly after her, but the young dog soon learned to move smartly out of her way, or to jump up onto sofas.

Snowball was already adept at staying out of their little one’s way.

Roxie also spent more time outdoors, either with Sam when he took Lily out for her daily walk, or wandering around Puddleduck Pets with Natasha, who always had dog treats in a bumbag around her waist.

Connie Samuels had met up with Maggie, and as Phoebe had suspected, the two ladies had swiftly become very good friends.

They had a great deal in common. Connie and Eddie had talked about the Voice for Wildlife posters and they’d decided that some of these might work well in verse.

The relevant poems would be printed alongside photos of the relevant animals – a fox or a hedgehog or a bird of prey.

Foxes and hogs

Are not like dogs.

They’re best off outside,

Roaming free.

It’s the countryside

Where their homes should be.

Birds of prey

Need to be free.

Not caged up

In an aviary.

It’s the countryside

Where their homes should be.

‘They’re not literary masterpieces, are they?’ Maggie had remarked to Connie with a wink. ‘But I can see where you’re coming from.’

‘I think they’re brilliant,’ Eddie had contradicted her. ‘We’re not trying to write literary masterpieces. We’re trying to get a message across.’

Connie had just laughed and said she was immune to criticism, having once been a performance poet.

‘Back in the day, disgruntled punters threw eggs if they weren’t happy with a performer. But apparently today you’re more likely to get used teabags or old cabbages. Eggs are too darn expensive to waste on throwing at people. It’s a sign of the times.’

Mission Cat Rescue was still very hush hush but would apparently take place at the same time as the sponsored walk that Eddie had suggested as a fundraiser.

Both were scheduled to happen in the middle of March. When Maggie had told her the timing, Phoebe had been worried.

‘But don’t we need to rescue those cats now?’

‘It’s more important we set everything up properly, my darling. We’re keen to make sure Duncan Jukes can’t just simply start over again. It’s no good us rescuing the cats he has now if he simply goes out and gets more.’

‘Yes, I suppose that’s true.’

‘There are things that need to be set up first,’ Maggie continued. ‘You’ll just have to trust me.’

The timing of the sponsored walk also gave everyone who wanted to participate enough time to raise sponsorship.

Eddie had suggested it would be a good idea to have tee-shirts made up which could be sold to participants in advance and worn on the day. They’d ordered some sunshine-yellow tees from a website, which did them really cheap, including a design of your choice.

When they arrived, Phoebe realised why they’d been so cheap. There wasn’t much sunshine about them. They were a hideously bright duster yellow. She had suggested they use the Puddleduck Pets logo or even The Puddleduck Pooch and Mooch one, but she’d been overridden by Maggie and Eddie.

‘They’re going to say, “I’m a Fabulous Fundraiser”,’ Maggie had said firmly. ‘We might want to use them for other things in the future, so I don’t want us to pin things down with names too much.’

Phoebe noticed she and Eddie had exchanged meaningful glances when she’d said this, so she hadn’t argued too much. They were up to something, that much was obvious, but she knew better than to object too much.

Maggie had also assured her several times that Mission Cat Rescue would be entirely legal.

‘We’re not breaking any laws,’ Maggie had said, looking ever so slightly smug.

‘And if you want to check, you can ask Lord Holt. Rufus and Emilia are totally on board with what we’re going to do.

And, as you know, the lord of the manor can’t possibly be seen to get involved with anything dubious. It would be a scandal.’

‘It would,’ Phoebe had agreed, her suspicions having been slightly allayed. Although she did phone Tori to see if she knew what Maggie’s masterplan was. If Rufus was involved in it then he was bound to have told his best friend, Harrison.

‘I’m as in the dark as you are,’ Tori told Phoebe. ‘But Harrison also swears blind they’re not doing anything illegal. The cats will be rescued, and it’s all perfectly above board. I’ll be coming on the sponsored walk, by the way. I’ve got two hundred pounds in sponsorship so far.’

‘Oh my God, that’s brilliant. I’d better get my act together.’

Although she was working flat out most of the time, Phoebe had never been happier.

She was pretty sure Sam was happy too. Getting their mums and Maggie involved in Lily’s childcare was going great.

Louella and Jan loved spending time with their granddaughter, although Phoebe was aware that when things didn’t work out and they couldn’t make it, Sam tended to pick up the slack a lot more often than she did.

He’d started teaching at Brook again, which she knew was his happy place, and he’d got some quotes for the lighting and fencing for the outdoor school.

So when they were relaxing one Friday night in the front room after supper and Sam said he had something to show her, Phoebe assumed it would be to do with this.

He had a brown A4 envelope in his hands, and he withdrew a plastic folder that contained some kind of document, which he removed from the folder and laid across his lap, before gently smoothing it out with his fingers. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

‘Phoebe, my darling, I… I heard a radio programme when I was on my way over to Brook recently and it was about a change in the law to do with couples who lose babies.’ He broke off, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

‘Blimey, this is harder than I thought. Look… I hope this is OK with you. I probably should have told you about it first but, oh God, it’s easier just to show you. ’

He handed the document over to Phoebe with hands that shook slightly so the paper shook too.

Alarmed now, Phoebe took it. She dipped her head to read.

Certificate of baby loss

Issued on behalf of the secretary of state for health and social care.

Phoebe felt a frozen stillness in her heart as she read the rest of the document.

Name of parent: Phoebe Dashwood

Name of other parent: Sam Hendrie

Name of baby: Jack

Sex of baby: male

‘Oh my gosh,’ she said, a tiny shiver running along the back of her neck as she registered fully what she was looking at, and her eyes blurred with tears. She blinked them quickly away.

He was beside her in an instant. ‘I’ve upset you. I’m so sorry, darling… I…’

‘No. No, you haven’t, at all… Oh, Sam. This is… it’s amazing. Proper acknowledgement that he existed. That he was here. I didn’t know we could even do this.’

‘Apparently we couldn’t until recently. It’s only possible because of a change in the law. It’s something mothers who have lost a baby have been campaigning for.’ His eyes held hers. ‘It proves our babies existed. Officially, I mean, and not just in our hearts. They can be honoured and recognised.’

He took her hand. ‘I know how much we both grieved for Jack and I didn’t want to bring it all up again by telling you about the certificates, but I also thought this might help us to get some closure.’

‘It does. It really does.’ She squeezed his hand. And then she raised the certificate to her lips and kissed it. ‘Jack was really here. Just because we never got the chance to meet him, it doesn’t mean he didn’t exist.’

There were a few breaths of silence in the room broken only by the ticking of Maggie’s old-fashioned clock that still sat where it had always sat on the mantlepiece, before Sam spoke again.

‘Formal acknowledgement.’

He had tears in his eyes too, Phoebe saw. This was massive for Sam. He would never have done anything like this when she’d first known him. He’d have been all stiff-upper-lipped and macho. He would never have been able to acknowledge and act on something like this.

‘I sometimes feel that I’m not up to the job of being a parent,’ he added. ‘I feel like I’m letting her down. And you…’

‘I’ve had those exact same feelings, Sam. About not being good enough. About letting you guys down. Maybe that’s just normal for everyone. Everyone who really cares anyway.’

Roxie, aware of the emotion in the room, went from one to another of her humans, offering a comforting paw.

‘Dogs are amazing,’ Phoebe said, smiling through her tears. ‘It’s OK, darling. These are happy tears, not sad ones.’

‘Thank you, Sam.’ She moved into his arms and for a moment they both hugged each other tightly, their tears falling onto the document that honoured their son. ‘Thank you so much.’