Chapter Text
February 2009
“They want me to be head of the family and run the farm. And I can't, but you can. This is where you should be. It's your rightful place.”
Andy's words play over and over in his head as he pulls up to the farmhouse, his life packed away in suitcases and boxes in the back seat. He's not sure what it was that brought him back, the sheer desperation in his brother's voice, that little longing for home that's always there somewhere nagging at him, or the fact that now Jack is gone, maybe he can enjoy it again. Whatever it is, he is regretting it right at this moment. He shifts the car into park and yanks the keys from the ignition and then just sits there for a moment, staring at the house, the keys jingling in his palm as he bounces them with nervous energy. So many bad memories, he wonders why he's doing this. The door opens though, and he has no choice but to confront his decision to come home as Victoria races out to meet him.
She's grown up so much in the last four years, he realizes as she throws her arms around him, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. He's grown up too, a bit. “Miss me?” He asks.
“You know I did,” she mumbles into his chest.
Andy stands in the doorway, looking somewhat disheveled. He'd gotten an earful already from both Vic and Diane when he told them he was coming home, all about how hard the golden boy had had it lately. He wasn't exactly sure hitting your wife constituted as you having a hard time, but who was he ever to pass judgement over Andy when he was always in the wrong. He wondered if things would change now that he was back. He thought not, considering he'd also be scolded about staying away for so long and for not coming to the funeral properly. He tried to remind them that Jack had told him to go, but they didn't seem to hear it. Daz appears behind his brother, a foot taller than when he saw him last, and he's reminded again how much this is not his family anymore. He wants to get back in his car and head back down to London but Vic's grip on him won't let him go.
“Alright Bro?” Robert asks as Andy emerges from the house.
His brother only nods at him in response as he makes his way past him to the car, grabbing a box from the back. From the look on his face, it seems like he regrets asking him to come back just as much as he regrets accepting. Robert's sure this is all going to blow up in their faces spectacularly.
Inside the house, he's confronted with a picture of Jack hanging on the wall and he feels his chin quiver and his throat start to close up. He knows a tear is threatening to fall but he swallows hard and fights it off. Even with just one photo, his dad still seems to have a presence in the room, ready to judge him and how he gets along with everyone. Robert feels vaguely determined to prove him wrong.
---
Robert is in a pair of overalls before he can even unpack his things. Already annoyed, he finds himself traipsing after Andy and Daz as they show him what needs doing on the farm. His brother really has let things go recently. There's a lot to do.
He spends the afternoon practically knee deep in manure left behind by the friendly herd of cattle he now shares a home with once again. He's hardly pleased and he takes two showers afterwards before he feels even remotely human again, back in his designer jeans and leather jacket that cost far too much for what he was making at his desk job back in London. He was dressing for success though, or at least he hoped, yearning for a place on the sales team. Not that selling agricultural machinery was exactly glamorous but it was a start. It doesn’t bear thinking about now, whether or not he would have made it in the business world. He’s back here, on the farm, doing what his dad always wanted him to do, and that has to be enough for now. He catches a whiff of himself as he heads back downstairs. Yep, still smell vaguely of manure. Brilliant.
There’s a pint for him in it at the Woolpack though, Andy’s shout for managing to get through day one without complaining, too much. He and Vic and Andy and Daz are all crammed into one of the booths in the corner as the still familiar sounds of the pub drift over him. Of course his name comes up, people are shocked to see him back. Nicola’s eyes practically bulge out of her head at the sight of him and the two remaining King brothers who have apparently become her new shadows are hardly pleased to see him either. When they’re done sneering at him, he shares a look with Andy across the table, images of country roads and burning cars bombarding him. Giving his brother a quick nod, he slides out of the booth and heads to get the next round in.
“When Andy said you were coming back, I didn’t believe it,” Katie says, leaning beside him as he fiddles with a coaster, awaiting his order.
“Yeah, well, here I am,” he says, feeling a thousand quips die on his tongue. He knew he’d see her. It was a small village; they could hardly avoid each other. He just didn’t know how he’d feel once he did. Conflicted. He still thought about her when he was down in London, but she was just an idea then and he had romanticized things a bit when he heard that she and Andy had split. Standing here next to her now though, her glaring at him with that judgy look of hers when he’s done something stupid, which he had to face it, was pretty much all the time, he’s just hurt. Hurt that she went straight back to Andy after he was gone. He knows that he screwed it up, cheating on her with Sadie but she had chosen him over Andy once, she had loved him once and still, she had gone back to his brother. It had always felt like a betrayal of what they had had.
“Should of stayed away,” Katie tells him as she takes her glass of wine and heads over to a booth to join Chas Dingle of all people, who gives him a dirty look when she sees him as well.
“Don’t listen to her, pet,” Diane smiles at him as she slides two pints for him and Andy across the bar. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, helping Andy out with the farm. I’m proud of you, and your dad would be too.”
He shouldn’t be as pleased as he is by her words of praise but he can’t help the warm feeling that spreads through his chest at her words or hide the grin that flashes across his face. “Cheers Diane,” he returns her smile and picks up the drinks. At least someone seems vaguely happy to see him.