Chapters (35)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- ‘The Winter Garden’ Ad
- ‘Book and the City’ Ad
- Copyright
‘I’m selling the business,’ he said. ‘I’m selling up and relocating permanently to Wynmouth. And what’s more, Tess,’ he laughed, seeing the look on my face, ‘I think you should do the same.’
Chapter 28
Chapter 28
By the August bank holiday weekend, just eight weeks later, my life had changed beyond all recognition, and I wasn’t the only person now living in Wynmouth who could say as much. We had been planning another beach party to celebrate the changes, but the good old British summer weather had other ideas and the event had been relocated to the Smuggler’s, not that anyone really minded.
Later, there would be musical entertainment from Harry and Delilah and storytelling from George – in much the same manner as there had been on the last bank holiday I had helped to organize – but the place was packed early today as everyone had turned out to see Charlie off on his travels. The Home Farm harvest was well on its way to being gathered, with friends drafted in to help with the rest and it was time for the eldest Upton brother to finally make the mark he wanted on the wider world.
‘So, tell me again,’ I said above the din, ‘where are you starting from?’
‘London,’ Charlie grinned, checking the straps on his gargantuan backpack for the umpteenth time.
‘She knows that,’ said Joe, rolling his eyes. ‘She means after that bit, you fool.’
‘All right,’ Charlie conceded, ‘Paris then. I’ll be staying in Paris for a couple of days and then spending the next three months travelling around Europe in a sort of clockwise direction before arriving back here for Christmas.’
‘And you’re going to be keeping us all updated via the blog?’
‘As long as I can get a signal,’ nodded Charlie, ‘then yes. I’m going to keep it as up-to-date as I can.’
There had been a lot in the news and on social media recently about the loneliness farmers in rural communities were facing and Charlie had joined a group called ‘The Farmer Wants a Life’. The group was made up of a dozen or so farmers up and down the country who were tackling the problem in unique ways and encouraging others to do the same by sharing their experiences via an online community. There had even been rumours about a possible TV series and Dad and I had been hard pushed not to step in and offer Charlie some advice. Old habits, as it turned out, died hard.
‘Taxi’s here!’ someone shouted from the door and we all spilled on to the road to wave our wanderer off.
‘You okay?’ Hope asked Joe, coming to stand next to where Sam and I stood with him and slipping her hand into his.
Joe nodded and cleared his throat as his brother gave one last wave before slamming the car door shut.