Free The Wedding Cake Tree by Melanie Hudson Page A

afternoon. He asked your aunt to make herself available at the farm for us to visit’—he looked at his watch—‘around about now in fact. I didn’t know all the details though, a sad waste.’
    ‘ And what did she say?’
    ‘ She’ll be there.’
    I put my hands to my cheeks and stared across the village green. Mum mentioned the possibility of meeting my aunt in the letter, but I hadn’t thought she meant right now. I had done without the woman for thirty years, why bother?
    ‘ Is this the surprise you were talking about?’ He glanced across with an expression that said, ‘guilty as charged’.
    ‘ Afraid so.’
    ‘ Is it part of the will that I go?’
    ‘ Not according to Grimes. The only thing I have to confirm with him is that you went to each location, read all of the letters and scattered the ashes.’
    ‘ So Grimes is happy to take your word for it then – that I did everything written in your notebook?’
    ‘ Er – no. We’re to send postcards as proof.’ He turned his torso to look around the green. ‘I should look for one here actually. I bet they sell them in the little shop over there.’
    ‘If you were a truly good friend, Alasdair, you would be taking me to the pub for the rest of the afternoon rather than trooping me off to see, what’s her name … Cruella De Vil. I can just imagine the farmhouse. I bet it’s like something out of Amityville Horror.’
    His face took on a serious expression when I had hoped for laughter. Guessing he was about to say something profound, I began to pull up blades of grass.
    ‘ It must feel quite strange,’ he said, ‘meeting a random woman who sounds to be a bit of a nutter. But we’re here, in this place, right now. You may never come here again and you only need to stay there for ten minutes, even if you just tell her to sod off. I think it was probably important to your mum that you meet her.’
    I scoffed at his suggestion.
    ‘Yeah, because she rushed to take me to see her while she was alive … I don’t think so.’
    We fell silent. Alasdair lay back on the grass. I stared into space and mulled over his words. I supposed I could pop in quickly – if only to see what she looked like – and then, just as quickly, leave. She was expecting us after all, and we had come all this way …
    I jumped to my feet, finished the last of the piccolo tomatoes, scrunched up the tin foil from the sandwiches and lobbed it at his chest.
    ‘ Okay, fine, I’ll go. But if I’m going to walk straight into the clutches of a mad woman, then you’re coming with me. God only knows what kind of a reception we’re going to get.’
    He had begun to unpack his rucksack while I spoke (I was that interesting) and I became fascinated by the contents: waterproof clothing, first aid kit, a bit of rope, carabiners, an orange thing that looked like a very small wrapped up tent, bungees, a hip flask – the list went on. Once practically empty (although I suspected there were still some items tucked away at the very bottom) he began to pack up again – this was clearly some kind of ritual.
    ‘Y our rucksack is the real life equivalent of the Mary Poppins carpet bag. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you pulled a twenty foot ladder out of there in a minute.’
    ‘ This is just my day sack,’ he teased, ‘the ladder is in my big rucksack.’
    He looked up at me with such warmth I felt able to take on the old dragon at the farm. I felt able to do just about anything. I held out my hands and helped him to his feet.
     
     
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Ten
     
    ‘ Didn’t they have any postcards?’ I asked as he stepped out of the shop. He held a scrunched-up paper bag in his hand.
    ‘ Yes, they did, but it’s the post office as well. She took the card from me as soon as I’d written the address. She also gave me directions to your aunt’s farm. It’s only about five minutes away. And I got you these.’ He passed me the bag. ‘ Ta da ! I told you there would