Summer at Skylark Farm: The perfect summer escape to the country

Prologue

At precisely 11.57 p.m., on Friday the 13th of March, I fumbled to answer my mobile phone yet again and in that moment, that much anticipated moment, when I was leaning in for my first longed-for kiss of the day and it was denied me, I knew I had reached a point in my life when something simply had to change. There was no work/life balance any more; no spontaneity, no fun, and I’d had enough.

Of course I didn’t remember the blinding flash of enlightenment, the Bridget Jones ‘that was the moment’ freeze frame revelation as soon as I scrambled out of bed some time before six the following morning, but it did come back to haunt me. I can now say without a shadow of a doubt, that that was indeed the moment everything began to change.

Chapter 1

Friday 13 March, 11.57 p.m.

‘No, no, no, don’t go,’ I whispered, quickly stretching across the bed as Jake sat up and began pulling his T-shirt back over his head. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’

‘It’s fine,’ he whispered back, the faintest glimmer of a smile playing around his lips, but not quite making it as far as his eyes. ‘I’m used to it.’

He leant over, kissed my forehead and headed for the door with his pillows and the throw from the chair tucked under his arm.

‘Sorry,’ I mouthed as he took one last look at me before slipping quietly out to take up his increasingly familiar Friday night spot on the sofa.

‘I’m used to it,’ he’d said. How tragic was that? How awful that he was resigned to the fact that our Friday Night Special would, at some point, be interrupted and that he’d be relegated to sleep on the sofa on the assumption that I would be working into the wee small hours. And to make matters worse, I was about to discover that this time the interruption was actually all my own fault.

It hadn’t been my fault when my boss, Simon Hamilton, had called on the commute home, then during supper and then again in the middle of the very first episode of Gardeners’ World (which, according to Jake, was the only way to start the weekend from March onwards), but this time it most definitely was.

So exhausted from yet another full-on work week, I’d signed for the eagerly anticipated concert tickets a client had been clamouring for, grabbed my coat and bag and headed for the door. No one in their right mind wanted to be chained to the office at seven o’clock on a Friday night and I was completely unaware that I’d stuffed the tickets in my bag, along with my diary and half-eaten lunch when I scrambled to get out the door and run for the bus.

‘Amber? Are you there?’

‘Yes,’ I said, stifling a yawn, ‘yes, I’m here.’

‘So, have you got them?’ Simon asked. He was beginning to sound unusually impatient. ‘I think you must have because I’ve searched high and low this end.’

‘Sorry,’ I apologised again, as I heard him slamming drawers and dropping papers, ‘just give me a second and I’ll have another look through my bag.’

‘And if you have got them,’ I heard him say before I put the phone on the bed and began another search, ‘shall I send a courier or can you deliver them yourself in the morning?’

I rifled fruitlessly through the array of interior pockets for a few seconds then gave up and tipped everything out on the bed. My heart sank as I spotted the envelope amongst the detritus, now unattractively flecked with low-fat salad dressing courtesy of my lunch container, which had parted company with its lid.

‘Oh God, Simon, I’m so sorry,’ I winced, biting my lip as I picked the phone back up. ‘Yes, yes, they are here. I’ll deliver them first thing in the morning.’

‘OK, no worries,’ he breathed, sounding far happier. ‘That’s fine then. Don’t worry about it, Amber. I know it’s been a hell of a week. It could’ve happened to anyone. I’ll expect you at the office around nine.’

He hung up before I had a chance to apologise for causing him such a late night and, having scribbled myself a note to remember to deliver the tickets first thing in the morning, I repacked my bag, snuggled back down in the bed and drank in the still warm scent of my now absent other half. I ached to join him on the sofa and tempt him back to bed but my head was still too full of work stuff to relax properly and it was hardly fair to disturb him now.

I thumped my pillows into a more sleep-inducing shape, reminded myself that I loved my job and tried to ignore the little voice in my head that seemed determined to remind me that I used to love my job. For almost as long as I could remember my career had been my life, the whole of my life. Since graduating I had worked tirelessly to claw my way up the ladder and was currently considered the go-to girl in the company if you were struggling to secure tickets for, or gain access to, any sought-after or sold-out event.

Top shelf corporate hospitality was my speciality and I was riding high on my success, but God only knows I’d worked hard for it. The only problem was that now I’d fought my way to the top, I wasn’t actually sure I wanted to stay there. Did I really want to be the go-to girl? Suddenly it didn’t seem like the be all and end all any more.

I hadn’t taken a holiday in the three years since I’d joined the company or a single sick day, and the increasingly continuous night time and weekend interruptions were getting beyond a joke. Somewhere along the line, my life had definitely gone awry. Just six months ago I wouldn’t have made such a silly mistake with those tickets, or anything else for that matter, but now everything was beginning to feel different and I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps I didn’t care about it all quite as much as I should.

I used to roll my eyes at colleagues who bemoaned the fact that their work/life balance was suffering and that they’d missed yet another school play or family function. Work was my life, no balancing act required. So what if I missed another family christening or my mum’s annual summer barbecue? I could send enough stork-shaped nappy bundles and elaborate floral bouquets to make up for my absence.

Or I could until Jake Somerville landed the other side of my desk eighteen months ago and unwittingly set about pricking my subconscious into questioning my priorities. It had been a long and slow process I admit, but suddenly it was beginning to feel like there was no way back, and to be completely honest I didn’t want one. I was ready for a change, as long as it was a change for the better, of course.

‘Amber, let me introduce you to my little brother.’

I recalled how I had swung round in my seat, a scowl firmly etched across my face. I really didn’t have time that morning for Dan Somerville, the office Lothario and all round Golden Boy. I had a fast approaching deadline and still no car to meet one of our most influential European clients whose plane was just about to touch down at Heathrow.

‘Jake, this is Amber,’ Dan grinned, ‘Amber, this is Jake.’

‘Hi,’ smiled Jake, offering me his hand.

‘Hello,’ I breathed as I stole a quick glance and struggled to ignore the unexpected eruption of butterflies in my stomach as a result.

After a near miss at my first Christmas office party I’d sworn off the whole attraction, dating and romance thing. I really didn’t need that kind of distraction in my life, but in that moment I just knew my pupils had widened beyond all reason and the whole career driven ice queen act was traitorously legging it for the door.

I quickly shook Jake’s hand out of politeness, momentarily turned back to Dan and then began distractedly flicking through the pages of my contacts book.

‘You didn’t tell me you had a brother,’ I mumbled, looking back up, but purposefully avoiding eye contact with either of them.

‘Now why does that not surprise me?’ Jake laughed.

‘Well,’ said Dan, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his obedient dark hair, his tone bearing his trademark hint of sarcasm, ‘to tell you the truth, we rarely mention him outside the family. He’s the black sheep. Everyone has that one family member who refuses to toe the line, don’t they?’

Jake shook his head good-naturedly and I looked between the two for some kind of family resemblance but couldn’t find anything to link one with the other. Dan was dishy and dark, whereas Jake was dishevelled and decidedly lighter in every sense.

‘Well, if he won’t toe the line,’ I smiled, addressing Dan but daring to risk another, longer look at Jake, ‘then what’s he doing here?’

‘Temporary contract,’ Jake explained, fixing me with his amused hazel flecked stare, ‘arranged by my kind and helpful brother, to see how I like the idea of earning a decent city wage doing a job that suits his idea of what I should be doing with my life.’

‘What he means,’ Dan cut in, ‘is that he needs the money because bumming around has left him stony broke and he’s simply thrilled with the prospect of working as my assistant for the next few months.’

‘Yes,’ Jake agreed with an apologetic smile, ‘that is of course exactly what I meant.’

‘Well, I’m delighted to welcome you aboard,’ I smiled, ignoring Dan’s sarcasm and wondering exactly what it was that Jake thought he should be doing with his life. ‘If there’s anything you need help with, anything at all, just give me a shout.’

‘Thank you,’ Jake smiled again as Dan quickly steered him away, ‘I will.’

In the weeks that followed that initial introduction, it turned out there were lots of things Jake needed help with. Initially he needed a tour guide, then a dinner date for numerous Friday nights, followed by someone to take ownership of the extra cinema or concert ticket he always seemed to have about his person and in less than six months he decided he needed someone to spend his entire weekends with. We’d been a couple for about a year now and I was beginning to forget what my life had been like before Jake landed in it.

Dan readily feigned both annoyance and disappointment that I had so willingly fulfilled the needs of his slightly scruffy, but nonetheless effortlessly stylish, brother when I had been turning down his altogether more sleek and sophisticated advances for practically as long as we had known one another.

‘If I’d known you were going to fall for my baby brother,’ he moaned one day as we ate lunch while working at his desk, ‘then I would never have suggested he came to work here. It’s very hard for me, you know, seeing the two of you together all the time.’

‘What can I tell you?’ I quipped, knowing he was nowhere near as heartbroken as he liked to make out. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants. And besides, you only think you want me because I won’t let you have me.’

•   •   •

During the next few days the ‘freeze frame, I want to get off the treadmill moment’, was pushed to the furthermost reaches of my mind, but it wasn’t completely forgotten. However, my work diary was beyond manic and required my undivided attention and therefore my loyalties were still very much focused on my job, even though my heart had begun to yearn for a break. I was becoming increasingly aware that it was looking less and less likely that I was ever going to secure myself a day’s holiday, let alone share one with someone else, and the acknowledgement troubled me far more than it ever had before.

Truth be told, I couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of Jake who had the good sense to book the time off he was entitled to. He was staying with his spinster aunt and helping out at Skylark Farm for a few days, so I knew he would come back refreshed and ready to face whatever life threw at him, whereas I was slowly going under.

The constant pressure and last minute changes to my so-called ‘free time’ plans, which more often than not meant they were abandoned completely, were really beginning to take their toll. I knew something would have to give soon and Jake’s absence from both the office and the flat did nothing to improve my mood.

I was used to him spending one weekend a month at the farm, but the fact that he had given up asking if I would like to go with him set alarm bells ringing in my heart. I realised that if I wasn’t careful, I was in danger of losing a lot more than my perspective. I was one half of what had been a very happy relationship and it was time to find a way to tip the scales back in my favour.

Chapter 2

The kitchen in my little London flat was my favourite room in the whole place. One entire wall was covered by a seamless, smooth sheet of white high-sheen units, softly rounded corners and a contrasting spotless hob that had never heated so much as a tin of beans. The whole area was an urbanite chef’s dream and I knew that should I ever decide to sell my abode the unblemished, sophisticated space would be the crowning glory on the estate agent’s details.

Even though Jake and I spent practically all our nights together at my place I always insisted we ate out or ordered in. Consequently, the smell and noise that woke me the following Saturday, which was obviously coming from the aforementioned unblemished kitchen, sent a shiver down my spine and had me sprinting across the flat in a time that could have rivalled Usain Bolt himself.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I shouted above the noise of the radio. ‘Jake!’

I twisted the dial from tinnitus level to off and gazed, open mouthed, upon the carnage. Eggshells, mushroom stalks, discarded bacon packets and a variety of abandoned tins adorned the formerly unsullied surfaces.

‘I take it you’ve never heard of a splatter guard?’ I frowned.

‘Oh, you’re awake,’ Jake beamed, leaving his greasy station and enveloping me in a hug. ‘I wanted to surprise you.’

‘You have,’ I mumbled, disentangling myself and venturing a little closer. ‘Why didn’t you ring and tell me you were back?’ I frowned, irritated to feel so annoyed that the thrill of seeing him was tainted by the mess he’d made. ‘I knew you were coming back at some point this weekend, but it would have been nice to have known when exactly.’

‘Sorry,’ Jake shrugged, pulling out a chair. ‘Like I said, I wanted it to be a surprise.’

It was a lovely gesture, but I still didn’t feel ready to forgive him for the disarray.

‘Come and sit down,’ he coaxed. ‘Let me finish cooking breakfast and I’ll tell you all about what’s been going on.’

‘I didn’t realise anything in particular had been going on,’ I pouted, refusing to sit. ‘Other than the fact that you’ve been on holiday, and you’ve come back to transform my beloved kitchen into a greasy spoon, of course!’

‘Oh Amber,’ Jake teased, tearing the cellophane off my brand new set of stainless steel utensils with his teeth, ‘stop being so precious and put the kettle on if you won’t sit down. I’ll have tea, two sugars instead of one, please; I need a little extra after all my hard work on the farm!’

Once he had finished cooking and proudly presented me with what looked like a plate of grease, I could only pick at the food and purposefully sat with my back to the mess. I’d insisted on toast rather than fried bread and opened the window in a vain attempt to disperse at least some of the smell. Jake heartily loaded his fork with one hand and squeezed my wrist with the other. Just as I had predicted, he looked incredibly cheerful and rested.

‘So,’ he said eventually, ‘how’s work been? I hope my brother hasn’t been chasing you around the desk in my absence?’

‘No of course not,’ I tutted, ‘and as far as work is concerned, it’s been . . .’

‘What?’

I let out a long breath and began crumbling the remains of my toast over my beans.

‘Here, don’t waste that,’ Jake frowned, pulling my plate nearer to him.

I picked the few stray crumbs from my pyjama bottoms and sat back in my chair searching for the right words to describe my working week.

‘It’s been,’ I sighed, ‘pretty awful actually.’

Had I not been so surprised by the admission I would have laughed at Jake sitting there with his fork frozen in mid-air and his mouth wide open, but as it was I felt heavy tears pricking the back of my eyes and shook my head dismissively.

‘In what way awful?’ Jake eventually asked. He sounded as shocked as I felt.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I shrugged dismissively. ‘I’m probably making it sound far worse than it’s been. It was just odd, not having you around. I guess I’ve got used to having you in my life.’

Jake laid his knife and fork on his plate, pushed it away and reached for my other hand.

‘I bet you got loads more done, though, didn’t you?’ he smiled encouragingly, no doubt trying to make me feel better. ‘I bet you wondered how you’ve managed for so long with me under your feet all the time. Well, that won’t be an issue for much longer.’

‘To tell you the truth,’ I sighed, his words not quite hitting their mark for the moment, ‘it felt like it did before you came and I realised . . .’ I swallowed. ‘I realised I didn’t actually like it any more. I think I’ve had enough of my job and the endless hours and relentless pressure. I think it’s about time I started looking for something a little less, you know, full on.’

We sat in silence for a minute. In the seconds before I had fallen asleep during the last week, the only real private moments I’d had, I had been mulling it all over and I’d come to the conclusion that there was actually no way I could tip the scales back in my favour in my current work position.

There was no getting away from the fact that the role required uncompromised commitment; however, until that very moment, when I said the words out loud, I hadn’t really thought I’d be brave enough to do anything about it. I had thought I’d probably just bury it away and soldier on.

‘What do you mean it won’t be an issue much longer?’ I suddenly demanded as Jake’s words filtered through and yanked me out of my life-changing reverie. ‘Where the hell are you going?’

The whole point of me taking a step back and looking at my life was to fathom out a way to factor Jake back into it. My relationship with him, and my fear of destroying it, was the sole reason behind the soul searching and potential changes. That and a fear of burning myself out. My stomach lurched as I realised I may very well have misread how much Jake valued our relationship.

‘I’m moving to Skylark Farm,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for some time and now something has happened that’s forced my hand a bit. It’s the only place that’s ever really felt like home to me, so I’ve decided to move there for good.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ I gaped. ‘I thought your weekend there once a month was going to be it. I thought you and Annie could manage the place between you like that.’

‘Not any more,’ Jake continued, completely oblivious to my shock. ‘Things have changed. Annie’s getting old and even though she won’t admit it, she needs more help, proper help, on a full-time basis. This was supposed to be a little clue,’ he said, rolling his eyes and pointing at the plates. ‘You know, a good old-fashioned full English farmhouse breakfast, but I’ve kind of messed it up. In fact, this isn’t how I meant to tell you at all.’

Jake had told me all about his beloved spinster Aunt Annie and Skylark Farm in the flat Fenlands of East Anglia. In fact, after every weekend he spent there, he came back absolutely buzzing with news about crop yields and hens’ eggs.

As a child he’d spent his school holidays with her, feeding the chickens and picking apples, and he’d never made any secret of the fact that one day he dreamt of moving there for good. That, I had discovered, was what he really wanted to be doing with his life and what Dan so heartily disapproved of, but I never realised that there was a possibility of him heading off quite so soon.

Interestingly, Dan had never spent so much as a single night on the farm. Apparently he preferred more refined and sedate holidays to getting his hands dirty and shovelling . . . well, you get the idea.

‘And is this what you’ve been planning while you’ve been away?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ Jake nodded. ‘Annie took a bit of a tumble while I was there, nothing serious, but the doctor sent her into a tailspin by asking if she’d thought about selling up and moving to town. By the time he left she was in a blind panic and I told her it was time she had help. She won’t let on that she needs the support, of course, but she’s terrified of losing the place and knows I’d never let that happen. It just seemed like the natural conclusion for me to suggest moving in.’

‘So you’re definitely going then? There isn’t anyone else she can ask?’

‘No,’ Jake said simply, ‘there isn’t.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I see.’

‘She’s always known how much I love the place and has never made any secret of the fact that one day it will be mine. I don’t want her to have to move out so this is the perfect solution, and truth be told I’ve had enough of taking orders from my brother.’

‘Oh,’ I said again, ‘right.’

I could understand that Jake had had enough of his job and that for him and his aunt this was a totally logical progression, but I couldn’t help wondering exactly where it left me. If Jake really was moving so far away then I might as well just wave him goodbye and carry on with my job because I couldn’t possibly imagine how our relationship could survive such gargantuan change. I opened my mouth to say just that, but Jake cut me off. He was grinning from ear to ear and looked in no way as if he was about to sound the death knell on our relationship.

‘I really want you to come with me, Amber,’ he beamed, ‘and given everything you’ve just said it sounds like perfect timing!’

Chapter 3

Needless to say I turned down Jake’s off-the-wall, but kind, suggestion straightaway. I told him that I was grateful for the offer, that I loved him with all my heart and, that if it was meant to be, our relationship would survive all the changes it was about to face, even though deep down I wasn’t sure it would.

‘You know I’m a city girl,’ I reminded him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. ‘I just don’t think I could handle the country. I can’t even cope with the mess you’ve made of my kitchen, so you can imagine how I’d be with a muddy farmyard and footprints trailing through the house.’

‘I’ll have you know Annie keeps a very neat and tidy kitchen,’ Jake mumbled, his tone loaded with disappointment, ‘and absolutely no mud is allowed in the house. It’s a strictly wellies off at the door kind of place.’

‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘and besides, what would I do?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘For work,’ I said. ‘I can’t imagine there would be much call for my finely tuned corporate hospitality skills in Wynbridge, would there?’

Jake had described Wynbridge as a typical little rural market town. He told me there were a couple of churches, a market square, a museum, a few pubs and shops and a rather good café. It all sounded pretty enough, ideal in fact for a weekend away, but not exactly dripping with the kind of employment potential and lifestyle opportunities I was accustomed to.

‘I thought you could help out on the farm,’ Jake said hopefully, ‘with the livestock and stuff.’

‘Livestock and stuff!’ I laughed. ‘Have you completely forgotten who I am? I’ve never even had so much as a pet hamster!’

‘Well, it was just a thought,’ he shrugged, ‘and as far as career opportunities are concerned, you did say you were looking to do something different.’

‘Yes, well, thanks for the offer,’ I smiled, kissing his cheek, ‘but there’s different and there’s way off the mark and I think you know where you’ve landed with this one!’

My firm refusal, however, didn’t stop me slipping the current issue of Country Living into my shopping basket or put me off perusing the latest range of pretty patterned wellington boots and blouses on offer from Joules. Country chic was very chic indeed, I decided, as I scrolled down the screen during a snatched minute one lunchtime.

For a giddy few seconds I could almost imagine myself baking a cake in a Shaker style kitchen and creating something decorative for the dining table with a few hedgerow blooms and some Kilner jars à la Kirstie Allsopp.

Sensing footsteps behind me I quickly flicked the screen back to the company homepage and stuffed the magazine in a drawer. It was Jake.

‘I have a proposition for you,’ he said, leaning back against the desk and looking down at me with his seductive hazel stare.

‘Oh?’ I smiled, running my finger lightly down his thigh. ‘Another one. Do tell.’

‘Next weekend,’ he said. ‘I want you to come to Skylark Farm with me. I’m going for a couple of days to check on Annie before I finally move there for good and I want you to see the place before you say no.’

‘I have said no!’ I reminded him. ‘And anyway, what’s in it for me?’

‘Well, let’s see now,’ Jake smiled. ‘Not much really apart from the opportunity to change your whole life, of course. The chance to really do the something completely and utterly different that you said you were looking for.’

I couldn’t help but admire his persistence and I had to admit that I could, courtesy of the glossy magazines and online catalogues, actually feel my resolve beginning to weaken. Surely no harm could come from going and taking a quick look at the place? If nothing else it would get me away from my desk for a few hours and give me time to have a proper, uninterrupted think about everything.

‘I’m not sure,’ I said, biting my lip, but in reality I was feeling surer by the second.

‘It’s two days,’ he said, ‘that’s all. Surely you can manage to cut the apron strings for one teeny tiny weekend?’

‘Oh, all right,’ I caved, an unexpected sense of excitement bubbling up. ‘I’ll talk to Simon and check he hasn’t got anything lined up, but I’m not making any promises.’

•   •   •

‘Amber, great timing,’ Simon smiled up at me as I approached his desk, ‘couldn’t be better actually! I was just about to come and find you.’

‘If it’s about the arrangements for the polo event, everything’s sorted,’ I told him. ‘I’ve even managed to book a jet to fly the happy couple out there and the paperwork will all be waiting for them when they land.’

‘Great, super,’ he said, offering me a seat and taking the other chair behind his wide desk. ‘I never doubted you wouldn’t pull it off, but I wanted to talk to you about something else actually.’

I swallowed nervously and licked my lips while mentally scanning my to-do list to reassure myself that nothing was amiss. It wasn’t.

‘I have a proposition for you,’ he announced.

‘Oh?’ I smiled. Another proposition; Jake’s was already being pushed to the back of my mind as my former work ethic bounced back and kicked it temporarily into touch.

‘I know this goes without saying,’ Simon reminded me in a hushed tone, ‘but I just want to reiterate that anything said within these office walls stays within these office walls. Yes?’

‘Of course,’ I nodded, ‘absolutely.’

I had seen one too many staff scuttling off with a cardboard box at the end of the working week to know the consequences of breaking the rules, and besides, I was far more professional than that.

‘OK,’ said Simon, looking at me intently, ‘I’m planning to expand the business and open another office.’

I took a deep breath and tried to hide my surprise.

‘Great,’ I stuttered.

Another, perhaps more northerly office, would certainly help when we found ourselves most stretched.

‘Liverpool or Manchester,’ I asked, mulling over the most likely options, ‘or perhaps Newcastle?’ I was already thinking about the potentially easiest commute should I have to pay a visit.

‘Dubai,’ Simon said simply.

‘Dubai!’ I almost shouted.

Dubai was the last place I expected Simon to suggest. He’d never mentioned aspirations to expand globally, but then why should he have discussed anything with me?

‘I had planned to head out there myself,’ he continued, ‘initially for a few months, three probably, just to make sure everything is in place and good to go, but I’ve had to have a rethink. Caroline’s pregnant,’ he proudly announced while gazing lovingly at the photograph of his stunning wife. ‘There’s no way I can expect her to travel and I’m certainly not leaving her.’

‘Of course not,’ I smiled. ‘Wow. Congratulations, that’s wonderful news. You must be delighted.’

Caroline was impossibly tall, elegant, sophisticated and one of the nicest women I knew. I had been terrified when I first met her and had consequently misjudged her completely. I had done her the injustice of assuming that she would be the stereotypical corporate wife – haughty, condescending and aloof; but she was nothing like that. ‘I am,’ beamed Simon, ‘we are. However, this leaves the Dubai office without a manager so I’m looking for someone else to go in my place.’

‘What about Dan?’ I suggested, knowing he would snatch Simon’s hand off for the opportunity to sun himself for a few months. ‘He’d be perfect.’

‘Actually, Amber, I was thinking of you.’

‘Me?’ I croaked.

‘Yes,’ nodded Simon, ‘to manage the whole thing. You’d have a small team working under you and, although I couldn’t offer you a pay rise in real terms, your flights, accommodation and expenses would all be taken care of. What do you think?’

The seconds ticked by and I couldn’t think how to respond. I’d knocked on Simon’s door to ask for nothing more complicated than a couple of days off to spend at Skylark Farm and before I’d so much as breathed a word I’d been offered the chance to work in Dubai for three months and have a team to delegate to.

Professionally every inch of me wanted to sign on the dotted line there and then, but personally I was thinking of the workload and Jake and the promise I’d made to consider the farm as my future home. I opened my mouth to say ‘thank you, but no’, but Simon cut me off.

‘Don’t answer now,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you take the weekend off to think about it and let me know how you feel the week after?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely,’ he insisted, ‘I can’t remember the last time you had a break.’

I wanted to remind him that I’d never had a break, but the fact that he’d just offered me such an amazing opportunity suggested that he was well aware of how hard I’d been working since I joined the company.

I stood up to leave, feeling rather pleased with myself. Somehow I’d managed to bag it all – the weekend I wanted to spend with Jake and a dreamy job offer in Dubai to mull over.

‘Just please, please remember,’ Simon reminded