Page 43 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

‘Del!’ called out Flora, but he had already turned his back and was climbing aboard his coach.

Flora turned to look at Nico with wide eyes. ‘Oh no,’ she muttered. ‘What now?’

Ethan came over to place a hand on her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile. ‘Just be grateful that he isn’t anywhere near your tractor again.’

‘Yes, but what will he turn up with?’ she replied, still biting her lip in worry.

‘I always think you should expect the worst and hope for the best where my cousin is concerned,’ said Ethan before walking over to the pile of decking to inspect it.

Nico looked at her. ‘Maybe it will turn out all right,’ he said, trying to remain optimistic despite the overwhelming evidence so far to the contrary.

Flora made a face. ‘Or not,’ she said. ‘Whatever he brings, it won’t be eco-friendly or in keeping with the rest of the site. Knowing Del, he’ll probably turn up with a bucket and a watering can.’

And with the opening date fast approaching, there wasn’t the luxury of time if they didn’t want to miss the start of the holiday season. Strawberry Hill Farm campsite would have to open, ready or not. And with whatever facilities Dodgy Del was going to bring them.

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‘Well, this all looks wonderful,’ said Grams, gazing around at the tents all set up in the field.

Flora was pleased that her grandmother approved. She too was starting to think that the field looked quite cheerful with the ten tents standing proudly on the side of the hill on their platforms.

‘The decking is much larger than I thought it would be,’ carried on Grams. ‘But in a good way. Plenty of space for people to sit and watch the sunset.’

‘That was your idea, apparently,’ said Flora as they both stepped up to peer inside the nearest tent.

‘The new beds look good,’ said Grams.

Flora nodded. It was the only piece of furniture in each tent so far, but she was pleased. The bed was off the ground and she had chosen a whitewashed frame which would hopefully match the shabby-chic décor that she was planning on. ‘I’ve seen some second-hand furniture online that I can paint to match the bed,’ Flora told her. ‘And there’s brand new rugs and bedding on order.’

‘You’ve both done so well,’ said Grams. ‘I might even book myself in here one night for a treat.’ She gave her granddaughter a smile before they stepped back out into the afternoon sunshine.

There was so much to do, but when Grams perched on the edge of the decking, Flora joined her and sighed as she sat down.

‘What’s up?’ asked Grams.

‘Nothing,’ said Flora quickly.

Grams looked at her. ‘Flora Barton, I love you, but you are no great actress.’

‘I just hope it works,’ she said. ‘With the stable block gone, there isn’t too much else we can do.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Grams. ‘Nico assures me that it will be, and I trust him.’

Flora was quiet.

‘Don’t you trust him?’ asked Grams softly.

Flora hesitated. She did trust him as a person. It was just the idea that she didn’t know about. That none of them had any experience in dealing with a campsite. How would it work? Would it even work? And what would they do if it didn’t?

She sighed. ‘I do trust him,’ she finally replied. ‘I just worry that it’s all going too fast and we don’t know what we’re doing.’

Grams smiled to herself. ‘I know,’ she said, reaching out to squeeze her granddaughter’s hand. ‘You like to consider everything through properly, think it over, mull over the positives and negatives. The trouble is, life doesn’t always allow you that luxury. And perhaps a bit of spontaneity will do us all some good.’

Flora looked at Grams. ‘A bit like your first dance class?’

Grams smiled. ‘I can’t wait,’ she said, with a giggle. ‘Isn’t that mad? Me on a dance floor again after all these years.’ She sighed softly and looked across the field where the long grass wafted in the gentle breeze as it drifted across the valley. ‘You know, I like the way this field ran wild.’

‘So do I,’ replied Flora.