Robert Snell is in the bird hide, waiting for Jim Lloyd, but when Jim turns up, there is a surprise – he’s not alone. He is accompanied by Edmund; a newcomer and, if his stories are to be believed, a red-hot birder who has seen all sorts of rarities, and who is not shy in telling his companions about them.
Robert is a bit put out by Edmund’s presence; not only is he boastful, but Robert was looking forward to spending some time alone with his friend Jim and Edmund’s presence means that the three of them in the hide cannot properly maintain social distancing. A disgruntled Robert returns home, where Lynda is surprised to see him so soon. Lynda has her own problems – she was enjoying a spot of peaceful gardening, when her back went suddenly and she was laying on the ground, unable to move. So great was her pain that she let out a yelp that scared off Monty.
By a supreme effort of will, Lynda manages to get herself upright and, when Robert turns up, she makes an excuse and locks herself in the toilet, determined not to spoil things for Robert. “I can manage on my own” she says, through pain-clenched teeth.
Meantime, Robert is engaged in unmasking Edmund as the fraud that he believes him to be, forensically examining Edmund’s website and blog. Jim has challenged Robert to prove wrongdoing on Edmund’s part and Robert accepted the challenge eagerly, utilising all his IT know-how and the latest software. Eventually, Robert discovers a photograph of a spoonbill that he believes has been faked (be honest Robert – it was the picture of a pterodactyl nest in Edmund’s apple tree that put you on the right track, wasn’t it?).
Robert is ecstatic and says out loud “Got you Edmund, you fraudster!” Later, he rings Jim and leaves a triumphant message on his answerphone. I never had Robert down as the vindictive type, but he positively gloats when he says (to himself) that, with Robert’s proof, Jim can report Edmund to the ornithological society and they might kick him out.
Why stop there, Robert? For so heinous a crime, why don’t they stake Edmund out in the open and let an eagle eat his liver, as happened to Prometheus as punishment for giving fire to humanity? Admittedly, Prometheus’s liver regenerated overnight, ready for another session on the morrow (we are never told if the eagle thought ‘bloody hell – not liver again’). Of course, perhaps they ought to keelhaul Edmund first – some crimes are beyond the pale, after all.
Over at Honeysuckle Cottage, Adam spends half his time in pain and, when he is forced to take his painkillers, the rest of the time away with the fairies. He bombards Alice with e-mails, requesting the latest data and situation reports. Adam resolves to go over to Home Farm to see for himself, but he doesn’t even make it to the front door and, anyway, Ian refuses to drive him. Ian also makes Adam take his painkillers, and Adam admits that his leg has stopped throbbing – the clue is in the name ‘painkillers’, Adam.
Alice isn’t enjoying herself much at Home Farm; she needs someone to drive the tractor to get the barley harvest in – Josh is down on the rota, but he has cried off. Who can Alice get, bearing in mind that we are in the middle of the harvesting season? Consequently, all her contacts are busy. But wait! There’s always Ed. Never mind that Adam sacked him when he was running dodgy chemicals for Tim Oatey, nor that losing that job meant that he and Emma lost their chance of buying a house on the Beechwood development – Ed’s not one to bear a grudge, is he?
Er, apparently he is, as he politely tells Alice to do one. Actually, that’s unfair, as he tells her that he’s doing work for someone else and cannot let them down. When Alice rings off, Ed says (to himself, of course) that he doesn’t need Home Farm. Remember the proverb about cutting off noses to spite faces, Ed. An increasingly-desperate Alice rings him again and asks him to name his own price. This is a dangerous thing to say to a Grundy – lucky it wasn’t Eddie she was asking (and where is Eddie by the way – why wasn’t he asked to drive the tractor?).
Anyway, Ed is somewhat taken aback and, daringly, asks for double time. He is taken aback even further when she snaps his hand off and tells him to start right away. Adam is a tad mystified when he gets a message from Brian, saying that Ed is doing a great job driving the tractor. “What else are they keeping from me?” he wonders. Why not hop over and ask them, Adam?
The barley is safely gathered in, but Adam still has reservations – “The harvest is a marathon, not a sprint” he says, wondering whether Alice has the stamina to see it through. He admits that Alice did well to get Ed to do the work, describing him as “the best tractor driver in Ambridge” and that Alice did well to persuade him. Wait till you get the invoice, Adam! He is also surprised when he gets an e-mail from Alice, containing data about the spring barley. Even better, apparently it is top quality, ideal for malting. One is tempted to say that, if anyone knows about malting quality, it would be Alice, not that malt is used much in vodka production.
And that brings us, rather neatly, to what might be termed ‘Alice’s attempt to become Auntie Lilian’, or possibly ‘Alice the Lush’. While she was having her mini crisis over trying to persuade Ed to drive the tractor, Alice was muttering things like “I know dad always keeps a bottle in the office – where is it?” before unearthing a bottle of Scotch and tipping some into her morning coffee.
The subject of alcohol looms large in the Carter household – Alice and Chris have made this pact (although Alice is in denial) that there will be no mid-week drinking. Chris is beating himself up, as he went to see Ed, who pressed a can of lager upon him. Chris tried to refuse, but to no avail. He was full of remorse and even left half of it (I bet Alice would have finished it off for him), little knowing that Alice is having a daily service to take away the empties (well, maybe not every day).
Chris has found an empty vodka bottle in the shed where Alice has been secretly drinking and sent his wife an accusatory message, suggesting that perhaps she has not been adhering to their ‘no drinks in mid-week’ agreement. Personally, I cannot believe that, when he opened the shed door, he was not buried under a what-could-be-fatal avalanche of empty spirit and wine bottles. No drinks in mid-week? Alice hasn’t even been sticking to a ‘no drinks before getting dressed’ policy.
There is a slight disagreement, and Alice says (again to herself) that the bottle could have been there for years and she is very disappointed that Chris assumed it was her bottle, ignoring the fact that, in fact, it was hers. If I were Chris, I’d get Sgt Burns to run a fingerprint check. I suspect the story about Alice’s drinking will run and run.
Let’s return to Honeysuckle Cottage, where Ian is playing with Xander; Ian has got out the toy farm and they are having a great time. However, Adam notices that there are one or two discrepancies; Xander has not set up the cow sheds near to the milking parlour, for God’s sake, plus he has put the lion in the same field as the sheep and placed the shark in the duck pond. The more astute among you will have gathered that the farm set has been amalgamated with the zoo animals.
Adam puts things right and starts thinking that he has been having a great time at home with his son. This view is reinforced when Xander takes his first-ever steps and a delighted Adam videos the occasion and sends it to practically everyone in the Western world. He starts thinking further ahead about how he could spend more time with his son – perhaps Jill could be persuaded to be a child minder?
Her reaction is ‘occasional babysitter yes, childminder, no’. Adam wonders about an au pair, nursery and boarding school (I made that last up) but Ian is implacably opposed to anything that eats into time spent with their son. Good job you didn’t mention that you’ve put his name down for Eton, Adam! For God’s sake, he’s only just started walking!
Bearing in mind that Adam is definitely a control freak, it seems quite a volte face that he is, in effect, looking for someone with whom to have a job share with his responsibilities at Home Farm. But whom can he trust? He tells Alice of his dilemma, and reveals that Brian refers to her as his “golden child” and is full of praise for her efforts so far. It is during this conversation that Adam drops his – for want of a better word – bombshell; has Alice considered taking on more management of Home Farm, thus allowing Adam more time with Xander? He adds that he has run the idea past Brian and he is all for it. Alice immediately replies “absolutely not” but Adam urges her to at least consider it.
On her own later, Alice says “Work at Home Farm permanently? He’s got to be kidding.” Over a drink (yes, I too raised an eyebrow) she says “Farmer Alice – I don’t even know if that’s what I want.” She adds that working at Home Farm has been exhausting and she doesn’t know if she can do it. “Sooner or later, I’m going to let them all down!” Alice says, morosely. Tell you what Alice, why don’t you mull it over over a little drink? You know how things always seem so much clearer when you have had a quick snifter - or two…
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