Chapter 6 Angus
ANGUS
It’s four in the morning, but I’m up and dressed to help Dad bring the cows in to milk.
The girls are pretty easy to herd. They know where to go, and they’re all desperate to empty their udders.
Even so, we remain vigilant, making sure they all shuffle into the collecting yard before filing into the parlour.
“Where were you last night?” Dad asks.
I grab the teat scrubber and clean the teats of the first cow in line, partly to prevent bacteria from entering the cluster, and partly to stimulate her, making her easier to milk.
“I told you I was out with friends.”
“I needed you here.”
I grit my teeth and concentrate on attaching the cluster, which will milk her and automatically drop off once her udder is empty, and then move on to the next cow in the line to repeat the process.
“You can cope without me.”
“It’s faster when you’re here to help. The farm will be yours one day, Angus. It’s time for you to get your head out of the clouds and focus on learning the ropes.”
“I already know how to run the farm. I don’t want to.”
“Nonsense.”
I shake my head. We’ve had this conversation a thousand times. At least, it feels like that. Instead, I replay last night’s steamy encounter with Richard. Well, the PG-rated sections, anyway. The last thing I need is to get a stiffie in front of Dad.
“I’m doing a degree so I can do something else, Dad.”
He snorts. “Accounting.” He says it like it’s a dirty word. “You’re wasting your time.”
“No. I’m not.”
I make my way back to the first cluster. Even though it self-cleans after every cow, I give it an extra rinse. You can’t be too careful when it comes to hygiene.
“Anyway, once I’ve graduated, I’ll be able to help you do your accounts so you can stop paying someone else to do it.”
“I don’t need you to do the bloody accounts. I need you here, pulling your weight.”
I hunch my shoulders. I’m up at the crack of dawn to help every fucking day.
Afterwards, I go onto campus for lectures and library time so I can study, do coursework and revision.
Most afternoons, except Thursdays, I make sure I’m back to help with the second milking, before doing more work if I need to.
Balancing uni and the farm is exhausting, but I do it, without complaint, to help Dad out.
Being able to go out with my friends once a week isn’t too much to ask. Is it?
“You should start looking for someone else to help run the farm.”
I’ve been saying the same thing ever since I was doing my A-levels. I knew then that farm life wasn’t for me. Not forever, anyway.
“It’s a family business. It’s always been a family business. Your great-great-granddad built this farm up from nothing. And for what? For his great-great-grandson to be an ungrateful welp and run off to the city?”
“Can we not do this now, Dad?” I pat the closest cow, who’s a little unsettled by our argument.
“When else can we talk? You’re never bloody here.”
Not true. At all.
I ignore him and focus on milking the cows as quickly and efficiently as possible. Once we’re done, I help Dad herd them to our second pasture, where they’ll spend the day grazing on grass until it’s time to milk them again.
“I’ve got to go,” I say.
“There’s still jobs to be done.”
“And I have lectures I can’t miss.”
“When will you be home?”
“By four.”
Dad nods stiffly. He folds his arms and watches me as I make my way to where I parked my Land Rover.
I glance in the back as I jump into it, smiling at the memory of what Richard and I did on the bench.
Fuck, it was hot. One of the best one-night stands I’ve ever had.
Will he call? Unlikely, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping he will.
I drive to our house, have a quick shower, and change into clothes that don’t stink of cow. I get to campus early enough to grab a coffee and a bowl of granola in the canteen. I’m halfway through it when someone wraps an arm around my neck and scrubs my hair with their clenched fist.
“Jimmy.”
Grinning, he sits opposite me and leans forward onto his arms. “I want all the gossip.”
I frown. “What gossip?”
“What happened with Professor Jones?” he asks in a whisper.
I scowl and glance around, but no one is paying any attention. “Nothing.”
“Pull the other one.”
“Nothing happened. I offered to keep him company, but he wasn’t interested, so I left.”
“And did what?”
“Went home to help Dad. You know he was on my case yesterday.”
Jimmy purses his lips. “True. You could have texted, so I didn’t worry about you.”
“You didn’t worry about me.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t. Who’s going to mess with you?”
Jimmy is pretty equal to me in build and height. No one would mess with him, either.
“Are you sure nothing happened?”
“Positive.”
Does Jimmy believe me? I don’t care, as long as he shuts up.
I promised Richard I wouldn’t kiss and tell, and I meant it.
The last thing I want is for rumours to spread about us.
He might get into trouble. Shit. Would he lose his job for fraternising with a student?
It would be dumb if that were possible. I’m an adult, and he’s not in charge of grading me this year, or anything.
Jimmy clicks his fingers in front of my eyes. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, I’m tired.”
“Up late?”
“Up early, more like. The cows need milking at four.”
He pulls a face. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Every day?”
“Yes.”
“Rather you than me, mate. Hey, a bunch of us are doing a bar crawl tonight. We’ll probably hit a club at the end and dance the night away. You up for it?”
“Nah. I can’t. Dad needs help.”
“I hope he pays you well.”
I laugh.
“He doesn’t pay you?”
“Nope.”
“Is that legal?”
I shrug. “I’m family.”
“I wouldn’t put up with it.”
I swirl my spoon through the remnants of granola. “He’s my dad.”
“He’s a bloody slave driver.” Jimmy checks his watch. “Right, I’ve got to go. I’ll text you the names of the first couple of pubs later, in case you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” I can’t, even if I am tempted to.
I could join them later, after we’ve put the farm to bed, assuming I’ll have the energy to drive into town—a taxi would cost far too much—after being up since four. I sigh. Probably not.
Jimmy stands and play-punches my shoulder. “Don’t work too hard.”
Again, not an option. I need to do well in my degree to prove to Dad that I’m not wasting my time.
To prove to myself that I can do something beyond helping Dad on the farm for the rest of my life.
I wolf down the rest of the granola, gulp the not-quite-cool-enough-to-do-so coffee, grab my things, and dash to my first lecture.
The fastest way is through the maths department.
I pause at the door to the office that the maths lecturers share.
A sign hangs on the wall, with all their names and a slider to say whether they’re in or out.
Richard’s slider is set to ‘Out’. My heart lurches into my throat.
Is he okay? I take a breath and move on.
He’s probably taken the day off to sort stuff out.
He said he wanted a divorce. He’ll need to speak to a solicitor to arrange that, won’t he?
Or maybe he decided to go home and talk to his wife in the end.
Perhaps they’re making up and deciding to try again.
I need to push thoughts of Richard out of my head, but it’s hard when the memory of our tryst is at the edge of my consciousness, waiting to be grasped, replayed, and enjoyed.
Fuck, it was good sex. I grin to myself.
How many times have I thought about sex already today? Nineteen times is way off the mark.