Back to the Farm Ch. 12

"Ah, that's just phase one. They're releasing twenty five homes before Christmas. Phase two is due to start in the New Year. But it's good, because it means there's been a lot of interest in what we're doing too."

Melissa wanted to ask how far they'd progressed at the farm but didn't dare, fearful of his reply. The plan had been to build eight houses but in order to build four of them the existing buildings had to be demolished. Had that happened yet? Would the farm even be recognisable?

"On the upside," Matt continued as the traffic started moving again, "the reason this road's in a mess is because they're putting in mains gas. Which luckily for us means we can have it at the farm. Unexpected bonus."

"Yes," she heard herself say faintly. And of course, it would be good for the people who'd eventually live in the new houses. Using calor gas hadn't been so bad, but the idea of supplies being on tap and never having to change the bottles certainly had appeal. It would be a very different way of life for the new inhabitants of Beech Tree Farm. Speaking of which...

"You haven't chopped down the copper beech have you?" The question spilled out before she could stop it, the mere thought heartbreaking. "And the tree-house...?" She couldn't even bring herself to finish.

Matt shook his head, flipping on the indicator to pull into the small lay-by preceding the entrance to the farm. "No," he said in a tone she couldn't quite define. "We saved them both. Though I'm pretty sure we'd have been hung, drawn and quartered by the conservationists if we hadn't. These days, there's no way we'd be allowed to put a tree-house in that old oak, let alone chop it down."

"Then—"

"Hey!" As she turned to him, she saw his eyes were bright with mischief. "I take it you're not going to open the gate for me this time then?"

"Oh!" Melissa scrabbled at her seatbelt.. "Sorry. I—"

"It's all right." Matt was already unfastening his own. ""I'll do it. Huh, the things a man has to do for himself these days."

The first thing she noticed after he'd manoeuvred the car inside was the track—only it was no longer a track, more of a dusty cement road. There wasn't a pothole in sight. "Doesn't look like you needed to change your car," she joked as he climbed back in after closing the gate.

He gave her another teasing look. "We could go off-road if you like."

"Thanks but no thanks," she responded, eyes glued straight ahead, determined to put off the moment when she witnessed the replacement of the ramshackle farm buildings with the half-built shells of luxury houses. But as they reached the top of the driveway, it was impossible not to spot the development on the fork to the right. Already the house furthest away was half-built, the remaining three plots already obvious, their footprints marked out in concrete.

She had to concede the setting couldn't be more perfect, the acres of open farmland to the rear forming a magnificent backdrop. "Wow," she said, aware of Matt's gaze as he halted the car. "They're going to look amazing. I didn't think you'd have got this far so quickly."

Given they'd made such rapid progress, she was now petrified of turning her head to the left.

"Actually, they're a lot further on than I thought they'd be too," Matt said. "And believe it or not, that house on the end's already sold. Jason's had teams of builders working up here around the clock. Seems there was something he was feeling rather guilty about."

She turned, at last daring to meet his eyes. "He told you about the letters?"

"He told me. And after I'd knocked seven bells out of him—"

"You didn't!"

"I told him he'd have to find a way to make it up to us." Matt continued, laughing openly at her horrified expression. "No, of course I bloody didn't. He told me over the phone when I was in Singapore, for heaven's sake. The coward," he added, without malice.

She chewed her lip. "And he told you why...?"

Matt was still grinning. "I can promise you faithfully, the feeling was never reciprocated," he said with dignity, as though she might've been in doubt. "You see, my whole life, there's only been one person in the world I wanted. Only one person I've ever loved. And Jason knew that all along."

Her heart stuttered. "Yourself?" she quipped, her gaze instantly dropping to her lap.

"Ha ha." He sounded calm enough. "Look out of your window, Lissy."

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. "I don't think I can."

"Yes, you can. Come on, look."

Maybe if she forced herself to take a quick peek along the lane to where Charlie's bungalow had formerly stood, it'd be like ripping off a Band-Aid, Melissa reasoned. It'd still hurt like hell, but the sting would soon pass and all she'd have to deal with then would be the ugly scar that remained. Inhaling sharply, she jerked up her head and opened her eyes, only for the breath to leave her body in a noisy rush.

She heard Matt's deep chuckle. "What do you think?"

"Oh my God." Tears welled in Melissa's eyes, a large lump arriving in her throat. "Matt."

Almost unrecognisable as the same house, the bungalow stood proud and defiant, its newly white-washed walls dazzling in the late afternoon sunshine. The ivy that for years had climbed the walls unrestrained had vanished, the crumbling window frames had been replaced and, when Matt shifted the car into gear and drove onwards, she saw that the roof had been completely re-tiled, the moss-coated slates removed and replaced with pristine grey ones.

Beyond the bungalow, the scaffolding surrounding the old barn was just visible, adding further testimony that the plans to demolish the original farm buildings had been abandoned. She turned to Matt at last, aware that the heaviness in her chest had lifted—a heaviness she hadn't even realised she was carrying. "But what about the new houses? You changed your mind?"

He parked the car in front of the house before meeting her gaze, his brown eyes soft, his pleasure at her reaction obvious. "No, it wasn't my idea to build them. It was what Charlie wanted us to do—I never wanted to tear this place down, remember? And I don't know..." He trailed off for a moment, looking out at the bungalow. "Maybe he always knew we wouldn't. Maybe he always knew you wouldn't let that happen."

"Me?" She shot him a mystified look. "What did I do to stop it?"

"You mean you haven't noticed? Come on." He beckoned to her with a tilt of his head. "Out of the car."

Melissa joined him on the freshly laid tarmac, her heart thudding in her ears as she stared in bewilderment at the building, comprehension finally flooding through her in a violent wave. "Oh," she faltered, slamming the passenger door closed. "You've moved the front door. And the window..." She sent him an accusing look across the bonnet. "You used my drawing?"

He laughed. "I told you it was good."

"I didn't think you meant it. I thought you were just trying to make me feel better." Tearing her gaze back to the house, she scanned the walls, half-embarrassed, half-delighted. "I never thought you'd use it. Not in a million—no way!" She uttered a disbelieving gasp as she spotted the window in the eaves. "Youdidn't..."

Matt grinned. "Why don't I take you inside?"

Melissa followed him to the front door, feeling ridiculously like a child in a sweetshop, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was afraid she'd never be able to take everything in. He hadn't demolished the house. Here it remained, in better condition than ever before. Charlie would've been thrilled. Suzie would've loved it.

"Come on in," he said cheerfully, unlocking the door and swinging it wide open. "Now I want your honest opinion, okay? Don't hold back about anything. I want to know exactly what you're thinking.

Melissa stared, open-mouthed. The entrance hall seemed twice as wide, the moving of the door and window providing more space than she'd expected, a space that easily accommodated a beautiful spiral staircase, an engineering masterpiece comprised from beech and steel. For a moment, she couldn't take her eyes off it, her gaze following the curvature of the rail as it climbed to a small landing. "I can't—I can't believe you've done this."

"Good, isn't it?" Matt spoke with the confidence of a man certain of an affirmative answer. "They only finished putting it in yesterday. Because it was bespoke, it was a close run thing it'd be ready in time. Glad it was, because I can't wait to show you upstairs—and it just wouldn't have been the same if I'd had to make you climb a ladder."

Taking a step towards it, she allowed her fingers to brush across one of the lower treads. "Can I go up?"

She heard him chuckle. "All in good time. Downstairs first. This way."

As she followed him towards what had been Charlie's bedroom, she became aware of the polished wooden boards beneath her feet, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the hall. A hint of varnish was just detectable above the smell of fresh paint, the walls cream, lightening what had previously seemed a dark corridor.

They hovered in the doorway, Melissa suspecting that Matt was also recalling the last time they'd both been in Charlie's room. Not that it was recognisable as such. Emptied of furniture and newly-painted, her gaze was immediately drawn to the window. "You replaced the frames?"

"And put in new cupboards," he prompted, waving at a row of fitted wardrobes. "Plenty of storage space now. There needed to be, of course, if this is going to be a family home."

Melissa's heart sank like a stone, her smile slipping at the unwelcome reminder. Yes, the house had been saved from demolition, but it was also no longer Charlie's. Soon, a brand new family would be living there. A family who knew nothing of the farm's history, of the people who'd resided within its walls.

"Obviously, there's no furniture," Matt rattled on. "But you like the floors? Beech, of course."

"I love them," she replied honestly as he led her back out and continued down the hall. Accustomed to the black and white linoleum, she'd had no idea how much a change in floor coverings would transform the bungalow's appearance.

But it wasn't only the floors that had changed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as they entered the lounge. "Is this even the same house?"

She glanced around in wonder, the room again empty but for, rather curiously, a couple of brown velvet-covered beanbags. Without Charlie's jumble of armchairs, it appeared three times the size. It was another moment before she realised it wasn't simply the lack of furniture that made it bigger. "You've extended the room," she said, rushing to the new French doors and gazing out at the garden, experiencing a jolt of relief as she spotted the old tree house. "Then—" she spun around to face him "—the dining room...?"

"Extension on that too," Matt confimed with a grin. "Looks twice the size. Come and see." And looking rather like an excited schoolboy, he caught her hand and dragged her out of the room and across the hall. "Much better, right?"

It was. Again, Melissa decided it was far more suitable for a family. There was no question that a sizeable table would fit in there now. A table that could seat twelve.

"You like?"

She felt herself nodding. "It's perfect," she agreed, seeing the installation of more French doors in this room and picturing lazy evenings on the patio in summer.

"Good. Kitchen next.

And again they were off, this room also much bigger than she remembered, the old cabinets replaced by sleek wall units topped with gleaming granite, the chrome taps highly polished, glittering in the late afternoon sunshine. She listened as Matt explained how the old lean-to had been taken down, the wall knocked through, which had, as luck would have it, provided additional space for the newly-refurbished bathroom. He took her there next, and Melissa, beginning to feel rather overwhelmed, found herself facing a chic white bathroom suite, compete with roll top bath and double shower. It was something of a relief then, when he showed her the last of the original bedrooms. Other than redecoration and new windows, they looked reassuringly the same.

"You've done an incredible job," she said as they returned to the front door. "I can't believe you did all this in just a few months."

"Well,I didn't, of course." Matt smiled. "I've done a bit of painting this week, but Jason's building company did the building work. In fact, Jason's done an awful lot of it himself. He's been here every evening, every weekend."

"But you designed it all, didn't you?" She turned around to take another look before her gaze returned to the spiral staircase.

"Not quiteall of it."

She grimaced at the emphasis. "Matt, I drew a quick sketch. I moved a window!"

"Don't sell yourself short. You did a lot more than that. You made me look at this place in a whole new light. Best of all," he nodded towards the top of the staircase, "the whole reason that's up there is because of you." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Ready to take a peek?"

"Thought you'd never ask." But as he shepherded her towards the first step, Melissa's nerve wavered. Conscious he was right on her heels, she drew herself up to her full height and took one last surreptitious tug at her shirt before starting to climb. "It's all right," she said, suddenly appreciating the reason for his proximity. "I'm notthat scared of heights."

"Better safe than sorry. Though as spiral staircases go, this feels pretty solid, I think."

It did. More elliptical than the corkscrew she'd imagined when he first explained his plans, it didn't seem at all steep, the vertical bars linking the stairs to the rail close enough together to allay any fear of falling through the gaps.Family friendly, she thought, experiencing another pang of envy-inspired regret. But as she reached the top, all such thoughts vanished from her head.

Gone was the cluttered loft she remembered, the boxes of half-forgotten possessions, the low rafters which had made the whole area feel cramped. In its place was a room bigger than she could've imagined possible. The sloping ceilings, set with enormous Velux windows, loomed high above her head, mirrored wardrobes lined the whole of the left wall and, through an open doorway to the right, she even spied an en suite bathroom. But most striking of all, the opposite wall was comprised almost entirely of glass, French doors leading out to a huge balcony.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes inexplicably filling with tears. "I never thought—I never realised it was going to look like this. And the view..." As though drawn by the light, she moved towards the window, another lump rising in her throat as she peered out across the tops of the trees, drinking in mile upon mile of uninterrupted countryside. "I had no idea you'd be able to see so far."

"I had in mind that it'd be fantastic to wake up and see that every morning." The proximity of Matt's voice made her start. She'd been unaware he'd followed her across the room. "Amazing way to start the day, don't you think?"

Melissa's subconscious kicked into gear. Turning, she saw what she hadn't taken in at first glance.

"Ah," Matt said, following her gaze. "You wouldn't believe what a tough time we had getting that thing up here."

It was a bed. Not just any bed, but a vast, king-sized affair, complete with an ornately-carved wooden bed head which perfectly matching the floorboards upon which it stood. The pristine cream covers looked as though they'd been ironed in place and coffee-coloured scatter cushions had been artfully positioned on the slope between duvet and pillows.

"In the end, we hauled it up over the balcony and brought it in through the French doors," he continued. There was a slight pause. "Fell in love with it. Had to have it."

She swung around to look at him. "Who had to have it?"

To her confusion, although he was smiling, he suddenly looked rather sheepish. "Er—the chap who's moving in here."

"Someone's moving in?" Though Melissa tried hard to cover her dismay, the words came out more shrilly than she would've liked. As he'd shown her around the house, she'd reminded herself at regular intervals that the house would soon be up for sale. At no point had it occurred to her it might already be sold. When he inclined his head, it took considerable effort to keep her voice steady. "When?"

"Well." Matt hesitated. "That rather depends. You see, I think he's hoping he'll be able to persuade someone to move in with him. In fact, I rather think he's planning on asking her to marry him."

"Right." She turned away to look out across the fields once more, digging her fingernails into her palms. "Well that's—that's nice."

Someone else was moving in.

"I'm sure they'll be happy here," she gabbled on, forcing herself to sound cheery. Was that why he'd taken her there? To let her have one last look around the farm before it changed hands? "It's fantastic. You've done—you've done great things with the place."

"Thank you," Matt responded, his voice unusually gruff. "But like I said—it all rather depends."

Oh God. She was going to be sick...

"You see, the thing is—"

"Matt," she burst out. "Could we go outside? Out on to the balcony?"

"Of course." Looking startled, he reached around her to turn the key in the lock. "No problem, there you go. Whoops—mind the step!" He caught her hand as she stumbled out of the door. "Lissy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said automatically, tearing from his grasp to stagger forwards, her relief upon reaching the rail absolute, her eyes almost closing as her fingers curled around the gloss-painted wood.Breathe.

"Hey." Matt's left hand covered her right. "You're not okay. You've gone green. Sweetheart, come on. You need to sit down."

"No." Melissa pulled away just as he reached for her, her heart thumping in her ears. "Oh God," she whispered, tilting her face to the sky in a desperate attempt to hold back tears. "Matt, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" He sounded bewildered. "Liss, what the hell's going on? Sorry for what? You haven't done anything. If anyone should apologise, it's me. I'm the one who messed up." There was another pause. "Still messing up by the look of things. But I just thought that if I could show you this, show you what we'd done—"

"It's not that," she cut in, unable to bear it any longer.

"Then what? What do I need to do to make things right, Liss? You won't even let me come near you!"

She swallowed, her fingers clenching on the rail. Time to face the music. "You're going to hate me," she got out at last.

"Hate you? Lissy, Ilove you. I want to marry you." And then he groaned. "For heaven's sake... Weren't you listening?"

"What?" A warm, fizzing sensation started in her chest, radiating rapidly until it seemed as though her entire body was flushed with heat. "You...? What?"

"That's it." Matt sounded oddly far away, as though he were standing at the end of a long tunnel. "Make me say it again, why don't you?"

"Matt..." Uh oh, never mind about being sick. Was she was going to pass out?

"All right. You win, I'll say it again." He sighed, then cleared his throat. "Lissy Barton," he proclaimed dramatically. "I love you. I want to marry you. I want to live with you, right here at the farm. I even want us to have children. Lots of them. Ten, if you want—"

"Matt, please!"

"Now what? Oh, hell..." His tone softened abruptly.

He caught her just as her knees buckled, scooping her against him, fitting her body to his, his hands warm on her back as he murmured words she couldn't comprehend. Not that she cared. She drew shamelessly upon his strength, losing herself in his embrace, allowing the world to drift away on a sea of grey. She was in Matt's arms, in the place she'd longed to be, where she'd hardly dared to imagine she could be again, and for several glorious moments, nothing else mattered. No one else existed.