Chapter 33
We pile into the police car and Llew’s, leave the lively hubbub of the market and head into the snowy lane towards the farm. No one is speaking. All we can hear is the swish of the windscreen wipers batting away the snowflakes that are falling heavily now.
We pull off the road and up the track and see a figure in the field of ewes.
It’s Owen. He’s hunched over. Llew pulls up beside him and we jump out.
Evie is by his side in a flash, through the gate and running across the snowy grass.
Owen is hunched over Jess and he’s cradling her in his arms, tears rolling down his face.
He’s taken off his jacket to put over her.
He looks up at Evie, and then at me following close behind her.
‘She was protecting the flock, like she’s always done.
Following her instincts,’ he chokes out, through the tears pouring down his face.
Llew takes off his coat, places it around Owen and puts a hand on his shoulder. Evie is crouched beside Owen, sliding her hand into his.
Another car pulls up and it’s Mae, with Josh. I watch them get out and walk slowly towards us.
‘Is she okay?’ asks Mae.
I give a little shake of the head. ‘We should get her to the vet. I’ll ring the emergency number,’ I say.
‘I’ve rung them already,’ says Bryn. ‘They’re waiting for you, Owen. You just have to get her there.’
Owen shakes his head. ‘There were dogs, loose in the field. More than two. A group of holidaymakers, I think, with dogs off the leads. It was chaos. There was one dog, kept chasing the sheep, wouldn’t leave them alone.
I tried to shoo him away. The owner had no control whatsoever!
Jess jumped out of the truck and’ – a big sob – ‘that dog went for her instead!’
‘Like I say, I’ve let the vet know, and I’m on my way to see the owners now. Get her to the vet, lad,’ says Bryn.
Owen shakes his head again. ‘I … can’t …’
‘Owen, the quicker we get her there, the better.’
‘I can’t. I don’t have the money. Cancelled my insurance.’ He lays his head on Jess’s coat.
I look at Mae, who nods. ‘We’ve got that covered,’ I say. ‘There’s plenty in the buckets from the fundraising this evening.’
He looks up at me, eyes red and swollen. ‘You can take the truck,’ he says. ‘It’s all I’ve got, but it’s yours.’
‘Owen, I don’t want your truck! It would probably cost me more to keep it on the road. I just want Jess to get to the vet. Go now!’
He gives a little sniff. ‘You’re right. Yes. Thank you.’ He gets to his feet, Jess in his arms. Llew steps in to help. Evie tucks the coat around the dog and Owen’s shoulders, keeping her arm around them all the way to the truck.
‘Text us as soon as you know anything,’ I call after them.
Evie turns back to me, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘We will. Thank you.’
We watch them as the truck heads towards the main road and the veterinary surgery, tyres leaving tracks on the snowy drive.
‘I’ll be going,’ says Bryn, as upset as the rest of us. ‘Good job one of the tractor boys called me. And I had a call from the walkers, about a farmer antagonizing their dog,’ he says.
‘What? They rang the police to complain about Owen?’
‘Yup!’
‘Unbelievable,’ says Mae.
‘Out-of-control dogs harming livestock! A farm isn’t some playground!’ I’m enraged. ‘People’s livelihoods are at risk. And the animals’ wellbeing! Oooffff!’ I say and cover my face with my hands. ‘And now Jess. Owen loves that dog.’
‘When he’s been at rock bottom, she’s been there for him.’
‘Like he is for her now.’ I feel two arms wrap around me and pull me close. I can smell him, like pine and woodsmoke, and something close to hope.
I lift my head see the snowflakes in his hair and on his cheeks. ‘You didn’t expect this when you turned up here this evening.’
‘The thing about being around you, Jem, is that I’ve come to expect the unexpected.’ He smiles. ‘And I think I quite like it.’
I smile back. ‘I need to check the flock,’ I say to Mae. ‘Can you finish up at the food market?’
‘Sure.’
‘We’ll meet you back here with the keys.’
‘Leave the lorry, I’ll get it tomorrow.’
‘What about Mrs “You Need To Be Out At Midnight”?’
‘Stuff her!’ I say. ‘There are more important things to worry about tonight. And I’ll be letting them know that on social media. This might be the season of goodwill. It might be Christmas Eve. But that means treating others as you’d want to be treated. It’s about looking out for others.’
I reach into my pocket, pull out my head torch and put it on. Llew turns on his phone torch.
The ewes are cowering under the big oak tree.
‘You don’t have to stay,’ I tell him. ‘I can manage.’
‘I want to,’ he says. ‘I told you. I’m beginning to like the unexpected.’
And despite the misery of the night, the cold and the snow, my heart swells, and I know there is nowhere I would rather be than on the farm, and no one I’d rather be with.