The cherry blossoms had begun to burst forth from their buds. Golden daffodils were beginning to fade as the sun's, as yet fragile rays, held distinct promise of warmth.

Squire Alfred felt invigorated as he strolled along the farm's western perimeter . He could see the farm horses, in the distance, turning the soil in preparation for seed sowing. He had instructed his farm manager, Andy, to employ an extra farmhand this Spring, so as to increase the farm's output.

Andy knew every nook and cranny of the farm and its idiosyncracies, having been manager at Briarly, for nigh a half century.

'But Squire,' Andy always insisted,'Briarly's eastern flank be not suited to tillage'.

Andy was wont to use the language of the battlefield, having served in the forces during the first world war. A permanent limp on his left side, from a stray shell, never let him forget his time spent in the trenches.

'Far better to plant more trees by the perimeter, for wind break, Squire. More shelter for the crops.'

Andy tended the farm with such care and dignity as if it were his own.

Squire Alfred longed to make some changes, to usher in a new era.

Alfred made his way towards Andy, who, painstakingly, followed the plough behind the two Suffolk Punch mares. Large veins protruded from his lower arms. The Suffolk Punch mares, due to their lower stature, were Andy's preferred breed for the plough.

'Andy,' Squire began.'Time to increase the farm output. Begin a new lease of life for the Manor'.

Andy tipped his peaked cap deferentially and wiped beads of sweat from his ageing brow.

'Squire', he began,' that's as may be, but it is time for a younger man to take the reins at Briarly. Doc's orders, says I need to take it handy now I'm past my seventy ninth birthday. Have to reduce my working hours'.

Squire Alfred had never really thought of Andy as old. He had known Andy for what seemed like forever. He was his late father's right hand man.


Alfred, nevertheless, felt disconcerted. He didn't want to lose Andy. Yet looking at his frail silhouette and the sweat trickling down his brow, a new farmhand would soon be needed.

'New ideas, Squire, Briarly needs new ideas', Andy continued.

Alfred knew change was in the air at Briarly. How it was going to be effected was another matter. He bent down and taking a fistful of the newly turned soil, he held it close to his nostrils.
'Andy,' he said 'get a whiff of that, invigorating and filled with promise. Mother Earth has not forsaken us, she is as vibrant and life generating as ever. We just need to treat her right'.


Andy paid little attention, preoccupied as he was to ensure Briarly would find a good farmer to look after her.

'Heard about a man in his forties, new to the area, who is eagerly looking for farm work. Name's Reginald, helps out at the local pub, washing glasses and setting fires and the like. But wants something in the outdoors', Andy continued.

Now that he had the Squire's ear, Andy warmed to his topic. 'Squire, shall I tell him come and see you ?'

'Andy, as soon as you can, bring Reginald to the Manor for a chat. And be alert for any other farm hands available in the area', Squire added.

Squire Alfred trundled back towards Briarly Hall, taking in the beauty of his surroundings, acknowledging how lucky he was to be the Squire of these historical acres.

Yet doubts began to surface at the outer reaches of his mind, as he contemplated what the future might now hold.

Lady Betsy was taking her afternoon walk among the sprouting Willow trees. She loved to stroll along the Willow Walk, with the perambulator, under the gently swaying branches, when their children were younger.

Alfred called out to her. 'Dearest Betsy, I'll stroll a little way with you, if you are in the mood for some company'.

Betsey knew that requests like this from her husband usually meant issues had arisen about the Manor and Albert wanted to give them an airing.

Securing the collar on their family Wolfhound,'Speckles,' Alfred soon caught up with her.

'Andy is slowing down, my dear and now has to take life easier, on doctor's orders'. Alfred began.

'Yes,' Betsey added, 'I noticed how difficult it has been for him all winter, making his way at first light to the outlying farm. Chilled to the bone on a few occasions, a shot of brandy helped to see him through the day.'

'Been our rock all these years,' Alfred continued.' Intend to hold on to him though, for his expertise and dedication'.

'We'll have to formulate a plan for Briarly, in the event our children are without issue,' Betsey continued.

Finally Betsey had found a way to raise the matter of heirs for Briarly Hall. She quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Gently slipping her arm into Alfreds, the couple strolled purposefully towards their uncertain destiny.