Radiance

Chapter Two

The stars of midnight shall be dear

To her; and she shall lean her ear

In many a secret place

Where rivulets dance their wayward round,

And beauty born of murmuring sound

Shall pass into her face.

          Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower, W. Wordsworth

The next morning Tamar awoke to a banging on her bedroom door.

“Tame, wake up!” Bang, bang, bang. “I’m hungry! And we need to head to the farm in an hour, I‘ve already walked the dogs.” Bang, bang; Charlie’s morning ritual. Who needed an alarm?

“Charlie you’re sixteen! Make your own breakfast.” She groaned and turned over again. He kicked the door in defeat and thumped downstairs, she smiled into her pillow before jumping out of bed and heading for the shower.

They were on the road to the farm half an hour later, Tamar eating breakfast as they walked. She knew the only reason he was so excited today was because he was going to do his first hive-check instead of just caring for the gardens. He’d been learning how to care for the bees and today was his first big test of how he would cope in the suit amongst the swarm.

The bee keeps were the pride of Honey End Farm. They had branched out to other areas of farming over the years but originally the historical farm indulged its locality with the luxury of endless fresh honey. Nowadays the honey wasn’t as lucrative a business because of larger companies selling their mass produced jars but the farm coped with what they sold and the fleece and meat production made up for what the honey sales lacked. However, the bee keepers were still held in the highest respect on the farm. They had the most delicate job of luring the bees into a false sense of security in order to care for the hives as the honey was produced - only to later intrude and relieve the bees of all their hard work. The danger of the job was never forgotten but if you watched closely through the netted faces, it was always done with a smile.

The workforce at the farm was modern in attitude but old fashioned in ways. They didn’t ignore the changing world around them but it was hard not to lose yourself in the charm of this secluded community. They ate together each morning and night, worked hard on the land side by side, laughed as jokes spread among the fields and dried young tears when the favourite cow was sent for slaughter. The Errington family had owned the land for generations. Mr & Mrs Errington and their children, Reuben, Josh and Sarah-Kay were the current family members running the farm. Mr Errington’s younger brother lived alongside them with his two young girls and wife who was currently carrying their third. Other staff came from local villages, old and young alike, needing work and wanting a change. The rest came and went, backpackers looking for a ‘real’ taste of Britain in the fields. Everyone seemed to click into place on the farm, each finding their role and feeling the reward of a day’s hard work.

Sarah-Kay and Tamar had been friends ever since they were six. ‘The Gang’ had consisted of the two sets of siblings meeting in the forest tree house each summer morning to explore what new adventures the day would bring. Tamar loved the farm like her own family; she’d grown up with all of them. She and Charlie often stayed over for a few days and always stayed for dinner after work. Coming to work on the farm had begun by playing together as children and as they grew they were allowed to help around the barns with the new-borns. By their teens they all started with weekend work and now she’d finished college, Tamar was full time with the Errington kids. Charlie was still only weekends but this summer break he’d been promised the lessons in bee keeping. Tamar was secretly glad of his company on the walk again, it was strange without her older brothers. His presence also produced one of the farms favourite amusements. For the longest time Charlie had nursed a soft spot for Sarah-Kay and everyone knew. Three years her junior, Sarah-Kay cringed at his clumsiness when his over helpful nature would surface around her, tugging at Tamar’s sleeve for a distraction. She was more capable at the work she did than many of the men, yet still as pretty a country bumpkin you could ever lay eyes on. Tamar had often felt plain next to her scruffy blonde hair and soft features with light green eyes that could make any head turn, but she’d grown out of that long ago. They were more like sisters than friends, neither having a sister of their own; they shared and bonded as they grew together. A look passed in silence could often mean more than anyone else could understand. They knew each other so well.