After a lively book club they’d said their goodbyes before Tom and Maggie caught the bus to Furrow’s Cross. The rapport they’d once enjoyed was slowly returning as their relationship healed. They chatted on the way about everything and nothing as if racing to catch up on the time they’d lost. When they got off at their stop Maggie paused at the letterbox to collect her post and Savage’s. From her letterbox she pulled out a leaflet about pizza delivery, a white envelope and an ominous-looking brown one. Maggie studied the latter for a second before plunging it into her pocket. Tom was asking about the merits of different sheep breeds and she tuned in and out as they walked up to Savage’s, her mind distracted by the brown envelope.

‘Right,’ said Maggie, stopping Tom a few feet from the door. ‘He’s a grumpy old bugger. You’d best let me lead on this.’

‘Actually,’ said Tom, running his bottom lip through his teeth. ‘Can I give it a go?’

Maggie lifted her chin. ‘Of course you can. I’ll be here if you need me.’ She took a step back.

‘Thanks.’ Tom rapped on the door and it was answered with a flurry of barks and the sound of boots on stone floor.

The door opened and a harassed-looking Savage glared at Tom. ‘Yes?’

‘Hello, Mr Savage. I’m Tom. I wondered if you had any summer jobs available.’

‘No, thank you,’ said Savage and he went to shut the door.

Tom put his hand out to stop the door shutting. ‘I did some work for Maggie and I think some sort of farm work might be what I want to do as a career…’

‘Really?’ asked Maggie butting in.

‘Yeah. I love the outdoors and the animals and everything about it,’ gushed Tom with a shy smile.

Maggie couldn’t have been prouder. A cough from Savage reminded them he was there.

‘Sorry, Fraser,’ said Maggie. ‘I can’t recommend Tom here enough. He’s a cracking little worker. He won’t let you down. Not like last year’s wastrels.’ Savage made a series of noises that seemed to imply he agreed. ‘But he’ll want paying at the going rate,’ added Maggie with a hard stare, which Savage returned. A frosty silence ensued. ‘Well?’

Savage’s badger-like eyebrows lumbered about his forehead. ‘I’m not made of money.’ Maggie tilted her head in a way that was oddly menacing for a woman of her years. ‘Fine. I’ll pay him what I paid them others.’

‘Awesome. Thanks,’ said Tom, shaking Savage’s hand.

Maggie gave him a nod of approval. ‘You’ll not regret it,’ she said.

*

Back at Maggie’s they celebrated Tom’s new job with a biscuit and a cup of tea for Maggie and a Coke for Tom – she’d got a couple of bottles in, just in case.