The Great Farm Rescue E-Book

Helen Peters

• Herausgeber: Nosy Crow Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: Hannah's Farm
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 337

Beschreibung

A thrilling, funny, heartwarming story from the amazing Helen Peters. THE GREAT FARM RESCUE is the third brilliant story about the resourceful Hannah and her eccentric siblings and friends. Hannah's family farm is in trouble again as their landlord threatens to evict them all. As homelessness looms, Hannah resolves to raise the money to buy the farm and secure the family's future once and for all. But how are a bunch of schoolkids going to raise two million pounds in six months...? Cover illustrated by David Dean.

Leseprobe

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vFor my father, Arthur Robert Peters, who loved his family, his farm and his community.

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1

CHAPTER ONE

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

“Let’s go,” said Hannah, grabbing a couple of empty bags from her bedroom floor. “It’ll be dark soon.”

It was the last day of the Christmas holidays, and Hannah’s best friend, Lottie, had come to help tidy up their Secret Hen House Theatre. It was in a bit of a mess after the performance of their latest play, Murder at the Manor. And Lottie hated mess.

As the girls walked through the hall, they saw Hannah’s ten-year-old sister, Jo, and her eight-year-old brother, Sam, sitting cross-legged outside the door of the downstairs office. The farm office where Dad actually did his paperwork was upstairs, but it was such a mess that he had another office downstairs for visitors.

Jo frowned at Hannah and put her finger to her lips. She and Sam each held notebooks with “Bean Spy Club” written on the cover. Jo and Sam were the sole members of the Great and Mighty Society of Bean.

Who was in the office? Hannah and Lottie crept over and listened. Hannah recognised the voice of 2Harry Mullins, their landlord’s agent.

“As I pointed out at our last meeting,” the agent was saying, “the farm just isn’t profitable.”

Hannah’s stomach tightened. How could the farm not be making money when Dad worked so hard every day?

“That’s all changing,” Dad said. “I’ve taken on a lot of extra work on other farms. Relief milking, fencing, feeding—”

“So I hear,” said the agent. “But your accounts still show you’re making a loss. So unless you can prove you’re making a healthy profit pretty soon, then—”

Jo’s cocker spaniel, Rags, raced into the hall, ears flapping, tail wagging. She threw herself at Jo and licked her face, letting out a loud volley of barks. Hannah heard a chair scraping back in the office. The Beans scrabbled to their feet and ran upstairs, followed by an excited Rags. Lottie and Hannah scuttled across the hall and through the kitchen. They put their wellies on and walked into the farmyard, where Jo’s enormous pet sheep, Jasper, was waiting. On his back sat a large duck called Lucy. Jasper and Lucy had been best friends since Lucy’s mother had hatched her eggs in the pigsty where Jasper slept.

Jasper sniffed Hannah’s coat. She rummaged in her pockets but found only a penknife, a moth-eaten pair of gloves and a length of baler twine.

“Sorry, Jasper, I don’t have any treats.”

The back door of the farmhouse rattled open, and Jo and Sam appeared, both wearing flat caps, muddy 3coats and wellies. Jasper trotted up to Jo and nuzzled her pocket. She pulled out a handful of sheep nuts and he gobbled them up.

“What were they saying before we arrived?” Hannah asked.

Jo flicked through her notebook and squinted at a page of very messy handwriting.

“The agent was saying the buildings are in a terrible state. And he said this was a friendly reminder that the landlord can give Dad six months’ notice to quit at any time.”

“And Dad said that’s exactly the problem,” Sam said. “He said how can they expect him to spend money getting the place repaired when we can be thrown out at a moment’s notice?”

“Nasty man,” said Jo. “But we’ve got a plan for him, haven’t we, Mung Bean?”

Sam grinned, and they ran across the yard towards the agent’s shiny black BMW. Jasper trotted behind them, with Lucy swaying on his back.

Lottie turned to Hannah. “Is that true? The landlord can give you six months’ notice to leave the farm?”

“Yes,” said Hannah flatly. “He doesn’t even have to give a reason.”

“That’s awful! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hannah shrugged. It was too scary to think about, let alone talk about. The farm was Dad’s whole life. His father had farmed it before him, and Sam and Jo were going to farm it after him. But in the past few years it had felt like they were fighting non-stop just 4to stay in their home.

The back door opened again, and Hannah turned to see her twelve-year-old sister, Martha, standing on the step, in a white lacy crop top, white jeans and white trainers. Looking in disgust at the sea of mud, she called, “What’s for tea, Hannah?”

“Beans on toast, I guess. Or I think there’s some soup in the cupboard.”

“Ugh. Why can’t we ever have nice food?”

“Why don’t youmake dinner sometimes,” Lottie said, “instead of expecting Hannah to do everything?”

Martha shot Lottie a poisonous look. “Fine, I will. Whatever I make, it will be better than her cooking.”

She turned back into the house and almost bumped into the land agent coming out. He had a shiny red face and wore a shiny black suit.

Jasper and the Beans moved away from the BMW and came to stand beside Hannah and Lottie. Jo and Sam had suspiciously innocent looks on their faces.

“Should we set the new bull on him?” whispered Jo as the agent unlocked his car.

“Better not,” Hannah said. “We don’t want a murder charge.” The new bull was worryingly lively.

Dad walked into the yard in muddy wellingtons and waterproofs. He looked tired and stressed.

“What did the agent say?” Hannah asked, looking with loathing at Mr Mullins, who was rummaging in the boot of his car.

Dad grunted. “Oh, the usual nonsense.”

Hannah gave Lottie a despairing glance. She knew 5she wouldn’t get any more out of Dad, however much she pestered him.

Mr Mullins shut the boot and shot a contemptuous look around the yard. Hannah could tell he was seeing a completely different version of it from the one she loved. He wasn’t seeing the golden lichen on the roof of the old cowsheds, or the majestic oak trees, or the glowing holly berries in the hedge. He wasn’t listening to the blackbird singing from the chimney pot, or the sparrows chattering in the ivy. He only saw the broken gates, the dilapidated tractor shed, and the outdated farm machinery rusting in the mud.

He walked to the driver’s door, grasped the handle, and then immediately whipped his hand away with a cry of disgust. He stared at his palm. It was covered in cow dung.

“What the—”

Hannah heard a yelp of laughter, and turned to see the Beans stifling giggles. The agent glared at them and then at Dad.

“Have your kids been vandalising my car?”

Dad pulled an oily rag from his pocket and offered it to him. The agent looked at it in disbelief. He gingerly opened the car door with his finger and thumb, and took out a pack of wet wipes.

“You shouldn’t use those,” said Jo as he cleaned his hands. “They’re very bad for the environment.”

Hannah noticed Martha tiptoeing across the yard, trying and failing to keep her white shoes clean.

“Why don’t you wear wellies like everyone else?” 6Hannah asked.

“Because I’m not a loser like the rest of you,” Martha said. “Is there some actual usable basil in the kitchen? I just opened the disgusting filthy jar on the spice rack, and the stuff inside is basically dust. And then I looked at the date and it’s been expired for fourteen years. Why does no one in this family ever throw anything away?”

Hannah knew that jar of basil. It had been sitting in the kitchen her entire life. Even though the spices were older than she was, she couldn’t bear to throw them away, because her mum had bought them.

“Why do you want basil?” she asked.

“Because you can’t make a decent bolognese without basil, obviously.”

“Get this blasted sheep away, will you!” called the agent.

Hannah turned. Jasper had wandered over to Mr Mullins and was sniffing his trousers.

“Here, Jasper!” called Jo.

Jasper nibbled the hem of the agent’s jacket.

“Will you get the sheep away!” Mr Mullins barked.

“Naughty boy,” said Jo, walking towards Jasper with another handful of sheep nuts. She moved backwards, and Jasper followed the food.

“What are you doing about that deserted milking parlour?” the agent said to Dad. “I can send someone in to demolish it for you.”

“You can’t get rid of the milking parlour,” said Sam, to Hannah’s surprise. Sam didn’t normally 7speak to people unless he knew them very well.

“When me and Jo are in charge,” Sam said, “we’re going to have a herd of milking cows again. Maybe Friesians like Dad used to have, but we’re considering Jerseys or Ayrshires. They don’t yield as much, but they have lovely temperaments and the milk’s very good quality.”

“I wouldn’t make too many plans for this place if I were you,” Mr Mullins said, getting into his car. “If you want my advice, you’d be better off planning another career. One where you can actually make some money.”

“He doesn’t want your advice,” said Dad. “He wants to farm this place.”

The agent gave him a look. “Well, you can’t always get what you want,” he said.

He shut the driver’s door, opened the window and dropped the crumpled wipes at Sam’s feet. “Pop those in the bin for me, son,” he said. “There’s a good boy.”

8

CHAPTER TWO

Try to Stay Calm

As Hannah and Lottie walked to the drama studio on Friday lunchtime, they saw Jack Adamson on the basketball court, shooting hoops with his friends Ben and Jonah. Hannah tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

“Hey, Ben, Jonah!” called Lottie. “Have you seen the cast list yet?”

Ben glanced in their direction just as Jack missed a shot.

“No, is it up?” Ben asked.

Jonah winced as Jack retrieved the ball. “Terrible shot,” he said. “You must be embarrassed.” He grabbed the ball and dribbled it down the court.

“I don’t know,” Lottie said. “We’re heading there now. Coming?”

Jonah aimed the ball into the hoop at the other end, and missed. Jack sucked air through his teeth.

“Who’s embarrassed now?” he said. “I feel sorry for you, mate, I really do.”

“Let’s go and see the cast list,” Ben said, and the boys ambled through the gate on to the path.

9“Did you sign up for sound and lighting?” Hannah asked Jack.

“Nah,” he said. “But then Ms Ellis begged me on bended knee. Said she’d heard reports of my outstanding talent, and she couldn’t do the play without me.”

Lottie rolled her eyes.

Hannah laughed. “She did not.”

“I said I can’t do it, my creative well has run dry and I need to replenish it. But then she offered me a massive pay rise, so … How much do they pay you for making costumes, out of interest?” he asked Lottie. “I hope they’re not taking advantage.”

“My agent’s still negotiating my fee,” said Lottie. “But she did tell me it would be a substantial six-figure sum. She said the reason they’re paying me so well is that the sound and lighting guy is working for peanuts.”

“Ha!” said Ben.

“Funny, that,” said Jack. “My agent told me they’re getting rid of the costume designer. Something about her being talentless and impossible to work with.”

“Ooh,” Jonah said. “Harsh.”

They were at the entrance to the drama studio now. Lottie elbowed her way through the crowd around the noticeboard, but Hannah hung back. She’d been fantasising about this moment for weeks, and she couldn’t bear to pierce the bubble with the cold hard truth. A Midsummer Night’s Dreamhad been her mum’s favourite play, and Hannah’s most precious book was an illustrated children’s 10version of it that Mum had given her for her fifth birthday. She had been obsessed with that book. She’d made Mum read it to her so many times that some of the pages had had to be sellotaped back in.

Martha and her friend Grace edged their way out of the throng.

“Peaseblossom,” Martha said. “Is that a good part or not?”

“Well, it’s a named part,” said Grace, “so it must be a speaking part, which is amazing.”

“Hmm,” said Martha, clearly unconvinced. “‘Attendant to Titania’ sounds like I’ll basically be playing a servant.”

“Hannah!” said Lottie, beaming as she pushed her way out of the crowd. “You’re Hermia!”

Hannah stared at her. Hermia? Hermia, who was funny and clever and loved by everyone?

“Really?” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! Isn’t that amazing?”

“I can’t believe it,” said Hannah, her head whirling. “That’s incredible.”

“You totally deserve it. Your audition was brilliant. And Ben’s playing Lysander. There’s a read-through of the first act after school today. And the first performance will actually be on Midsummer’s Night!”

“Did you get costume designer?”

“Yes, costume designer and wardrobe mistress.” Lottie tried to sound as if it was no big deal, but her face was glowing.

11Hannah was about to reply when she heard a disgusted voice saying, “Helena? I’m playing Helena? No way!”

Miranda Hathaway was standing at the noticeboard with her new sidekick, Ruby.

“Helena’s a really big part,” said Ruby cautiously.

“Obviously,” said Miranda. “But she’s such a sad loser.” She caught sight of Hannah. “Much more appropriate for you, Hannah,” she said. “If you weren’t so short, obviously.”

“Interesting,” Lottie said. “Ms Ellis clearly realised how unlovable you are, Miranda.”

Miranda gave her a poisonous look and turned to Ruby, who was reading the cast list.

“I’m understudying Hermia,” Ruby said, with a glance at Hannah.

“Understudying?” said Miranda. “She’s cast understudies? So who’s actually playing Hermia?” She looked at the list, and her eyebrows shot up. “Hannah?”

She turned and gave Hannah a scathing glance. “That’s ridiculous. Hermia’s supposed to be pretty.”

“Maybe Hannah will get sick or something,” said Ruby as they walked away.

“Or Ms Ellis will realise she’s made a mistake, and she’ll give you the part instead,” Miranda said.

“Or maybe you’ll meet with a nasty accident,” Lottie said.

Miranda turned round. “What did you say?”

“I said maybe you’ll meet with a nasty accident,” said Lottie. She gave Miranda her sweetest smile. 12“We never know what’s round the corner, do we?”

“Excuse me, girls.” Their head of year was standing in the doorway.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs Wadlow,” said Miranda, moving aside.

“There you are, Hannah,” said the teacher. “Can you come to my office, please?”

Hannah shot Lottie a puzzled look as she followed Mrs Wadlow. Miranda and Ruby glanced after her curiously.

“Take a seat,” the teacher said, and Hannah perched on a low chair. Mrs Wadlow sat at her desk and gave her a serious look.

“I’m sorry, Hannah, but I’ve just had a phone call from your granny. Your father’s had an accident on the farm.”

Hannah turned cold.

“What? Where is he? Is he OK?”

“Your granny didn’t go into detail, but she said it’s not life-threatening. It seems as though there was some incident involving a bull.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

“I know it’s a shock, but try to stay calm,” said Mrs Wadlow. “Your father’s in Linford Hospital.” She glanced at the scribbled notes on a pad beside her computer. “Your granny said his farm worker is with him. Alan, is it?”

“Adam,” said Hannah. For some reason this mistake made her furious, and that was clearly evident in her voice, because Mrs Wadlow gave her a funny look.

13“Your granny’s coming to collect you, so you’d better fetch your things. She’s going to take you to the hospital.”

14

CHAPTER THREE

A Terrible Start

“What happened?” Hannah asked as Granny pulled out of the school gates, narrowly avoiding a cyclist. Granny wasn’t a great driver at the best of times.

“Something to do with the bull,” she said. “That’s all I know. Adam called me from your dad’s phone, but he was in a bit of a state, so I didn’t get a lot out of him. He’d called the ambulance, and he phoned me again once the paramedics were there, to say it wasn’t life-threatening, but that was it.”

Hannah’s head throbbed. Paramedics, ambulance … It was terrifying. She turned to glance at the others in the back seat. Martha’s face was tight. Jo, whose cheeks were normally rosy, looked pale and anxious. Sam was sucking his thumb, which he hadn’t done for years. Hannah attempted a reassuring smile.

Granny pulled out on to the roundabout and took the exit to Linford, but she was in the wrong lane and almost ploughed into another car. Hannah yelped and the driver blasted his horn. Granny swore loudly at him.

The children burst into hysterical laughter. They 15had never heard Granny swear before, and at that moment it felt like the funniest thing ever. Tears poured down Hannah’s cheeks, and Sam laughed so much he got hiccups. Eventually even Granny started laughing.

“Well, I’m glad I amused you anyway,” she said.

They stopped laughing when they drew up at the hospital. It was horrible to think of their tough, independent father lying in a hospital bed.

As they walked into the ward, they saw Dad, in a hospital gown, with a tube coming out of him. When he saw them his face lit up, and Hannah immediately felt better. It couldn’t be so terrible if Dad was smiling like that.

Hannah made Granny sit in the only chair, and the children stood around the bed.

“How are you?” Hannah asked him.

“I’m all right,” he said, but his voice was wheezy and strained, and so quiet that it was barely audible.

Jo turned even paler, and Sam burst into tears. “What’s wrong with your voice, Daddy?”

“Just a bit croaky,” Dad wheezed. It was clearly an effort to speak. “How was school?”

“Oh, there’s Adam,” said Granny, looking towards the swing doors, where Adam was coming in with a can of Coke and a KitKat. He hurried over to the bed, giving them an awkward smile.

“What’s wrong with Daddy, Adam?” asked Sam. “Why can’t he talk properly?”

“What happened?” asked Martha.

“Let the poor boy take a breath,” said Granny, 16getting out of the chair. “Here, sit down, Adam. You don’t look well yourself. You must be in shock.”

“I’m fine,” Adam said. “You have the chair. Honestly.”

They all looked at him and he said, “We had the new bull in the crush to inject him, and Arthur was in there behind him, but it’s an old crush, and the fastening must have come adrift, or it could be we didn’t fasten the head yoke right. Anyhow, the bull moved backwards and your dad was rolled between him and the brick wall.”

Hannah could hardly breathe.

“They’ve done X-rays,” Adam said, “and he’s got five broken ribs and a collapsed lung. That’s why it’s hard for him to talk. And he had concussion too, so they said he’ll probably have a terrible headache.”

Hannah stared at him. A collapsed lung! That sounded horrific.

“When are you coming home, Dad?” Jo asked him.

Adam answered before Dad could speak. “They don’t know yet, but they said probably two weeks at least.” He turned to Dad. “Sorry, Arthur, but the doctor said you shouldn’t tire yourself out by trying to talk much.”

“Two weeks!” said Sam.

“And the doctor said he’s not allowed to do any physical work for at least six weeks,” Adam said.

“Ridiculous,” Dad wheezed.

“What will we do?” Sam asked Adam. “You can’t run the farm all by yourself.”

17“We’ll have to stay off school and help,” Jo said.

Dad shot her a fierce look. “Don’t you dare,” he wheezed. “It’ll be—”

But he was stopped by a coughing fit that made him cry out. They waited in shocked silence for the coughing to stop. It was horrible seeing him in pain.

“Don’t try to talk, Arthur,” Granny said. “And don’t worry about the children. I’ll make sure they go to school.”

A nurse bustled towards them, and they stepped back as she took Dad’s chart from the foot of the bed and looked through his notes.

“How are we feeling, Arthur?” she said, as though she was talking to a small child.

“All right, thank you,” said Dad, in that awful, constricted voice.

“OK, darling, I’m going to take your blood pressure.”

The children shot each other startled looks. Dad wasn’t the sort of person that anybody called “darling”.

“Are you his family?” the nurse asked as she strapped on the blood pressure monitor.

“Yes,” said Granny. “I’m his mother-in-law and these are his children.”

“And who’s the next of kin?”

“That’s me,” Granny said. “Their mother died eight years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, darling. So who will be looking after the children? Who will be taking care of the housework?”

18Hannah burst out laughing. “We’ve been looking after ourselves for years,” she said. “And no one does housework.”

But the nurse frowned, and Hannah felt a coldness creep inside her. Why had she said that? What if the nurse reported them to social services and they were put in care?

She gave a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical. “I’m joking,” she said. “Obviously.”

Granny said, “You don’t need to worry, nurse. I’ll stay with the children.”

The nurse didn’t look reassured. Granny wasn’t very well these days, and she looked particularly frail today.

Dad seemed to have fallen asleep, but when the nurse left, he opened his eyes and said, “What about the livestock?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Adam said. “I’ll find someone to help, and I’ll do more hours. It’s all my fault, after all.”

Dad shook his head, then winced in pain and stopped.

“We’ll help too,” Jo said. “Me and Sam will do the hens and the sheep.”

“And I can do the pigs,” Hannah said.

The Beans looked at her in surprise. “Really?” said Jo.

“Yes,” Hannah said. “I like the pigs.”

“Well, I’m not going near the animals,” said Martha. “I’ll do the cooking. We could do with some decent food for once.”19

Dad was clearly exhausted, so they left the hospital soon after that. Granny gave Adam a lift home. When he got out at his house, Hannah suddenly thought of something important.

“Wait a second,” she said to Granny, and she jumped out of the car and ran down the garden path after him.

“Adam,” she said. “Can you please not tell anyone about Dad’s accident?”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Why not?”

“I don’t know if Dad said, but Harry Mullins – you know, the land agent? He came round on Wednesday.”

Adam pulled a face. “Oh, him.”

“He was saying stuff about wanting the farm to make more money.”

“He would.”

“So if he found out Dad couldn’t work for weeks, I think he’d just use it as another reason to hassle him, or put the rent up or something.”

She didn’t mention her worst fear, which she didn’t even want to think about. Was he threatening to throw them off the farm? And if he was, then Dad being out of action would surely give him the perfect excuse.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Back in the car, Hannah looked at the old phone she’d finally been allowed to have for Christmas. It wasn’t a smartphone, but Dad hated all mobile phones, so getting a phone at all was a huge victory.

20She had three missed calls and two texts, all from Lottie, asking where she was and if she was OK.

The play read-through! It had completely gone out of her head. What a terrible start. Ms Ellis would think she was totally unreliable. And she could just imagine how delighted Miranda would be.

21

CHAPTER FOUR

The Only One with the Brains to Do It

When Hannah went indoors on Saturday morning, after feeding ten sows and mucking out five pigsties, Granny was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. She looked exhausted.

“Are you OK?” Hannah asked. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Not really,” Granny said, with a wan smile. “How your father sleeps in that bed I have no idea. I think the mattress must be stuffed with stones. And as for the pillows! I’m sure they’re Victorian. Sharp bits of feathers poking out all over the place.”

“Dad doesn’t really notice things like that,” Hannah said. “He’s not exactly the princess and the pea.”

“I’ll bring my own pillows for tonight,” Granny said. “And my quilt. I’ve never been so cold in my life. I don’t know how you all stand it.”

“Poor Granny,” said Hannah, giving her a hug.

Granny sniffed. “Gosh, you smell ripe,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

22Hannah laughed. “Thanks a lot. I’ll go and change.”

Sam was on his hands and knees in the hall, pushing a model tractor towing a manure spreader.

“Careful!” he said. “I’m muck spreading. I think hay’s going to fetch a really good price this year.”

Every room in the house was a field on Sam’s farm. He kept a field plan under the carpet in each room, detailing the crops or animals in that field, and noting down the care they needed and the work he’d done.

“Sorry,” said Hannah, giving the machinery a wide berth. She ran up the front stairs, dumped her pig-feeding clothes in her bedroom and headed to the back stairs. As she walked past Dad’s office, she saw Martha inside, peering into a filing cabinet.

“What are you doing?” Hannah asked. Dad’s upstairs office was in such a state of chaos that nobody else ever went in there except Sam, who did the paperwork for his own model farm at a little desk opposite Dad’s.

Vast heaps of papers were piled on Dad’s desk, under the desk, around the desk, on the table under the window, beneath the table and all over the floor, some in boxes and some just heaped up in teetering towers beside the filing cabinets. More piles of paper sat beside the typewriter, which was now gathering dust, since Dad, much to his disgust, had to do more and more of his paperwork online.

On top of the dusty bookcases and filing cabinets sat oily tractor parts, bolts, rusty nails, screws, 23broken ornaments, an abandoned fax machine, and a laminator that he had bought for some unknown reason, its instruction sheet still in the dusty plastic wrapping. There were also maps, bills, unopened post, handwritten letters from decades ago, calendars years out of date, old notebooks and more heaps of paper.

“It’s unbelievable,” Martha said, gesturing into the filing cabinet. “Look at this.”

Hannah looked in the open drawer. It contained an enormous spanner and a ball of string. Martha opened the other three drawers one by one. They were all empty.

“He must have planned to organise it at some point,” Martha said. “He bought suspension files.”

She picked up a pack of suspension files and blew the dust off the plastic wrapping. Hannah coughed and stepped back. The landline rang, and Martha answered it. The caller was a man, and Hannah heard him ask to speak to Dad.

“I’m afraid he’s not available at the moment,” Martha said, in a professional-sounding voice. “Can I take a message?”

“Is that Hannah?” asked the caller.

“No, it’s Martha,” she said, scowling. She couldn’t bear the idea that her voice sounded like Hannah’s, but people were always confusing them on the phone.

“Can you tell your dad I’m still waiting for his invoice for the ploughing he did for me? It’s Brian Fellows at Cross Keys Farm.”

Martha scribbled down the message. When she 24hung up the phone she said, “What’s an invoice?” Hannah didn’t know, so they looked it up online.

It turned out that an invoice was just a fancy word for a bill.

“Unbelievable,” said Martha. “So he’s been doing all this work for people and then not even sending them a bill.”

Hannah thought of all the late nights Dad had been working on other people’s farms, and all the mornings when he’d got up at four o’clock to go and milk someone else’s cows before he started work on his own farm.

“Do you reckon there’s a lot of bills he hasn’t sent?” Hannah asked.

Martha gestured at the chaos that surrounded them. “Does this look like the office of someone who’s up to date with their paperwork?”

“It would be typical of Dad,” Hannah said, “to do work and not charge people. No wonder the farm’s not making money, if he’s not even sending out bills.”

Martha frowned. “What do you mean, it’s not making money?”

Hannah told her about the conversation she’d overheard between Dad and the agent.

“I bet I could make it profitable,” Martha said. “I could sort this whole business out for him.”

“How? You can’t send out invoices.”

“Why not? I bet there’s a template I can download. Who’s going to know it’s me that’s sent it and not Dad? Someone’s going to have to sort this place out, 25and as far as I can see, I’m the only one with the brains to do it.”

Hannah went to see Ms Ellis as soon as she got to school on Monday. She was keen to make a good impression after missing Friday’s rehearsal.

“Was Ms Ellis angry I wasn’t there?” she had asked Lottie, when she’d called her on Friday evening.

“Well, she definitely wasn’t pleased,” Lottie had said.

“I bet Miranda was thrilled.”

“Of course she was. She told Ms Ellis you’re not very reliable, so you’d probably forgotten.”

Hannah gasped. “She actually said that?”

“Are you surprised? I told Ms Ellis you’re completely reliable, and Miranda said, ‘Well, why isn’t she here then?’ And then she messaged Ruby, and Ruby came back to school and stood in for you.”

“Ugh. Miranda must have loved that.”

Lottie said, “I told Ms Ellis afterwards there must have been a good reason why you missed the rehearsal, but she didn’t look convinced. Still, once you tell her she’ll understand.”

Hannah had emailed Ms Ellis immediately. But teachers didn’t look at emails at the weekend, did they? So all weekend Ms Ellis would have been thinking she was just a flaky person.

Shoes weren’t allowed in the drama studio. As Hannah crouched down to take hers off in the lobby, she froze at the sound of Miranda’s voice from inside the studio.

26“As a friend,” Miranda was saying, “I’m just concerned that the play might be a bit much for her, now her father’s in hospital. Especially as she’s already lost her mother.”

“She’s lost her mother?” said Ms Ellis. “That’s very sad.”

Hannah gaped in fury. How dare Miranda use her mother’s death like that!

“Yes,” Miranda said, “and she has a lot of caring responsibilities.”

“It’s very kind of you to be concerned,” said Ms Ellis. “I’ll keep an eye on Hannah. But the play might be just what she needs, as a break from all her responsibilities.”

“Ye-es,” said Miranda in a doubtful tone. “I just worry that it might be too much for her. Her mental health isn’t great at the moment. She’s quite fragile.”

Fragile! Hannah could stand it no longer. She walked into the drama studio, a big smile on her face.

“Hello!” she said brightly.

“Oh, hi, Hannah!” Miranda gushed. “So great to see you!”

Hannah glared at her. “I need to speak to Ms Ellis. In private.”

Miranda tilted her head to one side and gave a sympathetic smile that made Hannah want to punch her. “Of course,” she said, with a knowing glance at the teacher. She laid a hand gently on Hannah’s arm as she left the room. Hannah pulled her arm away.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your father’s 27accident,” Ms Ellis said. “How is he?”

With an effort, Hannah stopped glaring at Miranda’s back and turned her attention to the teacher. “He’s doing OK, thank you. I’m really sorry I missed the rehearsal.”

She noticed there was pig muck under her nails.

She’d meant to scrub them before breakfast.

Actually Dad hadn’t seemed better at all yesterday. He was still hooked up to a tube, and he still had that scary breathless voice. But the doctor had assured them that he was “stable”. Whatever that meant.

“Are you still OK to be in the play?” Ms Ellis asked.

“Yes, of course! I really want to. That’s no problem at all.”

“Well, let me know if things get difficult. Hermia’s a big part, and I completely understand if it’s going to be too much for you. Ruby’s already learned all the lines.”

I bet she has, Hannah thought.

“I’m absolutely fine to be in the play,” she said. “I know the lines too, and I really want to do it. It won’t be a problem at all.”

28

CHAPTER FIVE

All Sorts of Treasure

“Why didn’t you just walk in and confront Miranda?” Lottie asked as they walked home. “It’s the only way to deal with people like that.”

“I wish I had,” Hannah said. “I just sort of froze, you know? Do you want to come to ours for tea? Martha made a massive chilli yesterday and there’s loads left.”

“Are you trying to foist Martha’s poisoned chilli on me?”

“It was actually really nice.”

“So she is a better cook than you? I guess that wouldn’t be hard.”

“Wow,” said Hannah. “Some friend you’ve turned out to be.”

Lottie laughed. “I might as well come. There’s literally nothing in our fridge. Mum’s working on some big campaign in London.”

Lottie’s mum was in PR, whatever that was. Hannah had only the vaguest idea of what Vanessa did, and Lottie didn’t really seem to know either.

“I thought your granny was cooking for you,” 29Lottie said.

“Granny’s gone home. She wasn’t sleeping very well at ours.”

“That must be weird, being on your own.”

“It’s fine,” said Hannah. “I mean, we’re used to looking after ourselves. And she’s going to come most days with food and stuff.”

To be honest, it had been a relief when Granny went home. By the end of the weekend she’d looked so exhausted that Hannah had worried she’d be the next to end up in hospital.

At the entrance to the farm sat an old chicken coop that hadn’t been there this morning. Pinned to it was a laminated handwritten sign.

THE EGGCELLENT EGG SHOP

Eggciting opportunity! Buy our eggcellent free-range fresh farm eggs here! Eggstraordinarily tasty with eggceptional flavour!

£2 per box

Hannah lifted the hinged roof of the coop. Inside were two boxes of eggs and an empty plastic tub labelled MONEY.

“So the Beans are trying to make money for the farm too,” she said.

As they walked up the farm track, the light over the South Downs glowed golden, and the clouds above the wood to the north turned pinky-purple. 30Rooks cawed in the distance, and a flock of pigeons flew across from the wood.

In the farmyard, Jo was wheeling a barrow full of muck towards the dung heap, accompanied by Rags and Dad’s spaniel, Tess.

“Did you see our shop?” she asked.

“Yes, it looks great,” said Hannah.

“Have any eggs sold?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we only set it up a few minutes ago. We’re going to use the profits to buy more hens and expand the business.”

“Cool,” said Hannah. She and Lottie went indoors, where Hannah changed into her pig-feeding clothes, and Lottie sat at the kitchen table to work on her costume designs for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

When Hannah came in from feeding the pigs, Martha was heating up the chilli on the Aga and the Beans were sitting at the table with Lottie, drawing the latest edition of Bean Stew, the magazine of the Great and Mighty Society of Bean. Jo was dividing a blank piece of paper into squares to make a comic strip. Her cocker spaniel, Rags, lay at her feet.

Hannah laughed as she saw the title Jo had written above her blank grid.

“A Midsummer Night’s Bean,” she read. “Are you going to retell the whole play with Bean characters?”

“Maybe,” Jo said. “Tell me the story, and I’ll decide.”

“Well, it’s set in ancient Greece,” said Hannah.

31“Cool. Broad Bean will look great in a toga.”

“The two main characters are best friends called Hermia and Helena,” Hannah said. “Hermia’s in love with this man called Lysander, but her dad wants her to marry another man, Demetrius.”

“Why?” asked Jo.

“No reason. Her dad just prefers Demetrius, and the Athenian law says a daughter has to obey her father. So in the first scene, Duke Theseus, who’s the ruler of Athens, says Hermia must marry Demetrius or be locked up in a convent forever.”

“Harsh,” Jo said.

“Then Helena comes to see Hermia. Helena’s really sad, because she loves Demetrius, and he used to love her, but now he wants to marry Hermia, even though Hermia doesn’t even like him.”

“They sound bonkers,” Sam said.

Lottie nodded. “So true.”

“Hermia and Lysander plan to run away that night, through the forest,” said Hannah. “But when Hermia tells Helena their plan, Helena sneaks off to tell Demetrius.”

“Hannah, get the plates out,” said Martha. “And you two, clear all your rubbish off the table.”

“It’s not rubbish,” said Jo. “It’s valuable artwork.”

“Sure it is. Get rid of it.”

The Beans gathered up their drawing materials and dumped them on top of the piles of unopened post, calf medicines, tractor parts and copies of Farmers Weekly that cluttered the dresser.

The phone rang, and Martha answered it. The 32caller said, in a voice loud enough for all of them to hear, “Is Arthur there?”

“I’m sorry, he’s not available at the moment,” Martha said in her professional voice. “Can I take a message?”

“Who’s that?” said the caller.

“This is his assistant,” Martha said.

Jo laughed, and Martha glared at her as the man carried on talking.

“No, I’m sorry, he’s completely booked up currently,” Martha said. “I’ll let you know if anything becomes available.”

“Why did you say you were his assistant?” Sam asked as Martha put the phone down.

“Because I’m fed up with people not bothering to leave messages if they know it’s one of his children. And it’s not even a lie. I am assisting him.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Hannah said. “If I answer the phone, I can be his assistant too, seeing as everyone gets us mixed up anyway.”

“Can I be his assistant too?” Sam asked.

“No,” said Martha. “And nor can you,” she told Jo. “They’d know straight away you weren’t adults. Plus you’d probably say weird Bean stuff.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” said Jo. “Would we, Baked Bean?”

“We need a name for the assistant,” Hannah said.

“Derek,” said Jo.

“Arabella,” said Martha, who had always wanted a more glamorous name. “Right, sit down and eat.” She started plonking chilli and rice on to plates.

33Jo pulled a plate towards her. “What happens next in the play?” she asked through a mouthful of chilli. “Do Hermia and Lysander run away together?”

“Yes,” said Hannah. “They sneak off to the woods on Midsummer’s Night. Helena tells Demetrius, and he follows them, and then Helena follows Demetrius, hoping he’ll fall in love with her again.”

“She’s definitely bonkers,” said Sam.

“This is delicious, by the way,” Lottie said. “Probably the best meal I’ve ever had in this house.”

“That wouldn’t be hard,” said Martha. “And you can wash up too. I’m sorting out Dad’s office.”

“So the four lovers all end up in the forest at night,” said Hannah. “But it’s a magical forest, full of fairies, and ruled by a fairy king and queen, Oberon and Titania.”

“What?!” said Sam. “Now there are fairies too?”

“Oberon sees Helena chasing after Demetrius, begging him to love her,” said Hannah.

“So embarrassing,” said Martha.

“No wonder Miranda hated being cast as Helena,” said Lottie. “Imagine her begging anyone for anything.”