I’ve had enough now and I’m not going to take any more of your shit. You’re about to discover that I don’t make empty threats, Bateman.

It seemed like the pressure was being ramped up by the hour and there was nothing he could do about it.

It didn’t help that he knew he was solely responsible for the fact that they were being forced to sell the farm. He’d failed to rise to the challenge of keeping the business afloat during tough times, and he’d made matters worse by trying to reduce the mountain of debt through gambling, as he’d placed far more bad bets than good ones.

Now he had no choice but to make his wife aware of the true extent of their financial woes. She knew that they were going to have to leave Oaktree Farm, their home for over twenty years, but she had no idea how much money they would still owe even after that. Or just how hard it was going to be to get back on their feet.

They were both in their early fifties and the farm had been their life for two decades. Job prospects for people like them were pretty dire, and it seemed highly unlikely that he’d be able to get another business off the ground at this stage.

It was no wonder, therefore, that he was weighed down by guilt. He’d let his family down. And now he was going to have to face the consequences.

He looked around at the other customers in the bar. They all lived in the village and he’d known most of them for years. He would certainly miss them if he and Mary were forced to move away from the area, something they might have to consider given the mess they were in.

The thought that this could be their last Christmas as part of the community filled him with sadness. He so wished it hadn’t come to this.

He issued a heavy sigh before finishing the last of his beer. Then he pushed his chair back, stood and pulled on his padded, waterproof jacket. He was about to head for the door when he paused, deciding to buy some booze to take home.

Martha Grooms, the landlady, was behind the bar. She was a large woman in her sixties with an oval face framed by shapeless grey hair.

When she saw him, she said, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to come over and chat to you, Rob. But as you can see, we’re busy this evening.’

‘No problem, Martha,’ he replied. ‘I only popped in for a swift one. I’ve been into Kendal for a meeting with the bank manager. Now I have to get home to the missus.’

‘And how is Mary?’

‘Oh, she’s grand, thanks.’