Luke drove with a mind full of memories, the good times he’d had as a child, the freedom to roam. In many ways it had been the perfect childhood. He would be apologetic, he told himself. He would grovel to his father, be nice to Ted. He would do whatever it took to get the support of his family and give his kids the sort of childhood he’d enjoyed. If he could just get a good night’s sleep he might have a bit more patience and make time to play with them, rather than let them spend all their time in front of their tablets, which had become a handy babysitter while he nursed a glass of whiskey and stared into space, numb all the way through.

It’s not good enough.

He heard her voice sometimes, telling him off. Anna was good at that. Her a mere slip of a thing and him at least a foot taller. She was doing it now, urging him on when he wanted to turn back, not sure if he had the mental energy for the reunion, however it might go down.

An image of his mother came into his mind, tall and blonde with inquisitive blue eyes, and he wondered how she was doing, if her MS had progressed any further. Before he’d left, she’d been having a hard time with mood swings and fatigue and some days she just took to her bed. At the time, the doctors had given her medication which had seemed to smooth things out for her, and he hoped it was still working. His overriding memories of his mother were of an active woman, always out in the fields or the polytunnel with her horticultural ventures. Experimenting with new crops to grow. She was the backbone of the farm, the organiser, the business mind. She was the cog that made the wheel turn and if she wasn’t well, he wasn’t sure how it would all function.

I can help now, he thought. Time to give something back.

He turned off the main road and onto the single-track lane that led up the valley to their farm, which stood right at the end, like a full stop at the end of a sentence. His pulse rate started to quicken, his palms slick on the steering wheel. How would they take to him just turning up like this? Whatever his mother had said, it was his father’s words that took prominence in his mind.

‘If you leave here, then you don’t come back!’ His dad had banged the table with his fist to emphasis the finality of his words and the anger in his eyes told Luke that he’d meant it. A lot more was said, his father becoming ever more clear that Luke’s decision was final. It was either the forces or the family. He couldn’t have both.

At the time, the argument had spurred Luke on rather than made him reconsider, because, by the time he’d told his parents about his plans, he’d secretly been through the selection process and had been offered a place. Two weeks after the argument, he’d left home and he hadn’t been in touch with them since. Although he’d thought about them often, and he messaged Ceri every now and again, he’d never pushed himself to make the phone call and get back in touch and the longer he left it, the harder it became to make that first move. He thought he didn’t need his family once he had his own. He shook his head as he pondered on this now, marvelled at his arrogance, his naivety.

Stupid, pig-headed bastard, that’s what you are.

He hoped the presence of the children would keep things calm, civil at the very least, because his father was a big man with a big temper and was pretty scary when he was in full flow.

The road wound steadily upwards, round tight bends, past familiar driveways leading to familiar farms and houses. Mountains rose steeply on either side, the lower wooded slopes of the Nantlle Ridge on his left, the tops of the mountains forming a jagged edge on the skyline. To the right was the huge, bare hump of Hebog, the highest mountain in the valley. The air smelt different here, earthy and fresh, as it wafted through his open window, touching a place in his heart that had been tender ever since he’d left.

He turned the last corner and could see the house, a large, stone-built monolith standing tall in the face of the elements, extended over the years, so now it looked like two houses joined together, mirror images of each other, with two roofs and four chimneys. A broad expanse of flat fields surrounded the property, edged by a stream to the left, before the mountains rose steeply on three sides. To the right of the house was a long line of stone outbuildings; some used for stables, others for storage. In front of these was a yard, where a car, a pickup truck, a tractor and a range of agricultural machinery were parked. Behind the house, the edge of the large, corrugated-metal barn could be seen poking out.

He felt like he’d travelled back in time and remembered how, as a child, he’d loved to hear the story of how his world came into being.

‘Once upon a time,’ his father would say, grinning at his mother, ‘a lonely farmer was out tending his sheep when he met a beautiful young scientist who’d gone and got herself lost. She’d been walking on the Nantlle Ridge and had taken a wrong turning in the mist.’ He’d always shake his head at this point and widen his eyes, as though getting lost was the most stupid thing anyone could do. ‘She was soaked through, tired and hungry, so the farmer took her to his home, which he shared with his grandparents. She borrowed some warm clothes and stayed for something to eat, enchanting him with tales of Cornwall, where she grew up.’

‘You fell in love,’ Luke would pipe up at this point, nodding sagely as if he knew what it meant.

‘We did indeed.’

‘And then Grandad had an accident.’

His father would nod. ‘A runaway tractor broke poor Grandad’s legs and he and Granny decided that it was time to retire.’

‘So you built them a bungalow.’

‘Who built the bungalow?’

‘You and mummy and Uncle Robin and Auntie Bea.’

‘That’s right. The four musketeers we were in those days. All for one and one for all. Do you know what that means?’

‘You all help each other. Like you do now.’

‘That’s right. Well, I couldn’t run the farm on my own and Mum was still a student, so she had no money. We were poor as poor could be.’

‘So you all lived together.’

‘We did.’

‘Because it’s good to share.’

‘Yes it is.’ His father would chuck him under the chin. ‘That’s right, son. We all need to share and to help each other.’

Luke gave a wry smile and hoped that his father remembered those words now.

Looking back, he could honestly say that Phil had been a great dad. Not just Phil, but all of them. You couldn’t wish for a better set of parents and with four adults sharing the job, there was always one of them with the energy to be patient.

The family dynamics had changed when his aunt and uncle went away for a weekend to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary and never came back, killed in a pile-up on the M6, leaving six-year-old Ted orphaned. But he was absorbed into the family, Luke’s parents smothering him with love and attention to make up for his loss, and he became more like an annoying younger brother than a cousin.

Everything altered again when Luke hit fourteen, though. Or maybe it was him that changed? With the onset of puberty it just didn’t work anymore. Angry and intolerant, he’d felt like a prisoner stuck out there in the middle of nowhere, and he always seemed to be in a fight with some member of his family. Especially Ted, who was two years younger than him but taller and stronger and liked to make him look a fool at every opportunity. Anyway, Luke had never wanted to be a farmer; he’d wanted to travel. There was a big world out there and he’d wanted to see some of it before he even thought about settling down.

He parked in the yard now and sat for a moment, pulling his thoughts together.

‘Okay, kids, we’re here,’ he said, turning and shaking their legs. Tired eyes blinked open and they looked around, cautious, as if they’d just landed on the moon. Bernie uncurled himself from the floor, where he preferred to sit when they travelled, and gazed through the window, his tail giving a cautious wag.

‘Where are we?’ Tessa asked, lifting herself up in her chair, her face pale and drawn as she glanced around. ‘What is this place?’

‘I told you. This is Nana and Pops’ house. You’ve never met them, but now we’re going to stay here for a little while.’

‘But it’s huge,’ Tessa said, eyes wide. Then they widened even further. ‘And they’ve got ponies! Dad, they’ve got ponies.’ She jigged up and down in her seat. ‘Look, over there, Dad. Ponies!’

Luke laughed. A couple of rescue ponies had arrived when he was still at home, and his mother had obviously added to the herd while he’d been away. Tessa was mad about ponies and now she could learn to ride, which would be the perfect distraction.

‘Look at that cool tractor, Dad.’ Callum was staring at the huge blue tractor parked next to the barn. ‘Its wheels are bigger than you!’

‘They are, aren’t they?’

‘Can I help you?’

Luke swivelled round to face the voice. A man, wearing muddy green overalls tucked into knee-high wellingtons, was leaning towards the car window, frowning. His hands were tucked into his pockets, the cap on his head, shading his face.

‘Ted?’ Luke’s heart lurched in his chest, catching him by surprise. ‘Christ, look at you with all that fuzz on your face.’

‘Luke! Fuck me…’ Ted covered his mouth when he spotted the children in the back seat. ‘Oops. Flipping heck, Luke. We thought you were trouble for a minute there. Unmarked police car or something. Gave us a bit of a fright.’ His hand dropped to the roof of the car and his mouth twitched as his dark eyes gazed at Luke, holding an expression that was hard to read. Then his face broke into a grin. ‘You getting out of the car or what?’

Luke climbed out, watching as Tessa raced off to look at the ponies and Callum ran over to the tractor. He hugged his cousin, unable to speak for the weight in his chest and, after a few moments, the warmth of Ted’s body, the solid feel of him, broke all his resolve and he started to cry. Big, ugly, heaving sobs shuddered through him and his cousin held him tight, muttering in his ear, ‘Hey, hey, it’s alright mate. You’re home now. You’re home.’