Chapter Sixteen
As arranged Cameron came to hers so that they could go to the barbecue together. Arriving separately would look weird. ‘Hiya,’ he said, giving her the now expected kiss on the cheek. ‘You look...’ He was scanning her up and down.
‘What? Out with it. Remember we’re not actually in a relationship so I’ll not be offended.’
He wobbled his head. ‘You look smart. But you look like you’re going to work.’
‘I am,’ said Ros.
‘No, you’re not. This is a social engagement with colleagues. That’s different.’
‘Only in that I’m not being paid. It will still feel the same. I’ll have to behave the same.’
‘Maybe, but I’m thinking casual would be better.’ He checked the clock. ‘We’ve got plenty of time if you want to change.’
‘Fine,’ said Ros and she went in search of something less formal, which was more of a challenge than expected. She came back into the main room and did a curtsey in a white fitted T-shirt and cropped jeans. ‘Will I do?’
He gave her a look that made her feel a little exposed. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Now what do I need to know about your colleagues? Who are the good guys and who should I avoid?’
‘Avoid all of them but especially Alastair.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s my nemesis,’ she said, picking up a grey cardigan, just in case it turned chilly.
Cameron laughed. ‘What makes him your archenemy?’
‘He makes jokes all the time, and I’m the butt of them.’
‘People like that are trying to distract from their own flaws. Play him at his own game.’
‘How exactly?’ Ros picked up her bag and keys and headed for the door.
‘You need to flip things around. Make him the joke. He’ll hate it.’ She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but she did like the idea.
As Ros had anticipated there were a number of people who did a double take with surprise at her not being alone. What she hadn’t anticipated was the level of intrigue and questioning it generated. When Cameron went to get them drinks, people who avoided her in the lunch room or, when she thought about it, avoided her pretty much all the time were now queuing up to chat to her.
‘Ooh you’re a dark horse,’ said Sonia.
She’d been called worse. ‘Not really – why would I discuss my personal life at work?’
The woman chuckled heartily. ‘That’s the only reason I go to work: to live vicariously through everyone else. I love a good gossip me.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘So tell me all about him?’
Ros was amazed that the self-declared office gossip thought her stupid enough to divulge anything. ‘He pines if I leave him alone too long so I’d better find him.’ Ros made good her escape but loads more people had arrived and now Cameron was lost to the throng. An unwelcome face popped up in front of her and stopped her search.
‘Are you looking for me?’ said Alastair.
‘Funnily enough... no.’
‘I heard you were bringing a plus-one. My source must have got that wrong,’ he said, knocking back the free beer. Ros tried to scan the crowd behind him for Cameron. ‘I’d been looking forward to meeting your plus-one. I had a fiver on it being a woman.’ He chortled at himself.
Now he had her full attention. Cameron’s advice came back to her. ‘Alastair, that’s where you and I are exactly alike.’
Alastair stopped laughing. ‘How?’
‘Women don’t fancy either of us.’ Alastair’s face looked like he’d been slapped with a large wet fish and Ros was about to dart off when she felt a strong arm around her middle and a kiss on her cheek.
‘Hi, I’m Cameron,’ he said, stretching out a hand, which Alastair belatedly took whilst still agog at Ros’s retort.
‘Alastair.’
‘I have heard an awful lot about you,’ said Cameron, his smile shifting into a stern line.
‘All good I’m sure,’ said Alastair.
‘No,’ said Cameron flatly as he took Ros’s hand and led her away.
Ros felt a mixture of flustered and elated at having matched Alastair and was pleased to see him looking bewildered when she glanced over her shoulder. Perhaps a bit of his own medicine was exactly what he needed.
Clive, the CEO, introduced himself and Cameron engaged him in talk about computational fluid dynamics. Cameron was confident, disarming and he knew his stuff. Ros had to admit she was impressed. Clive was called away by his wife to check on the spatchcock chicken.
‘These people seem nice,’ said Cameron.
‘Hmm, you don’t have to work with them.’
‘Maybe try getting to know a few on a social level? They might surprise you. Right, let’s get these drinks topped up. I’ll be back in a mo,’ he said, striding off.
Before Ros could object he’d disappeared into the crowd. Ros was very unsure about socialising. She faced these people on a daily basis and found them awkward, uncooperative and frequently inadequate. She decided she’d get some food and perhaps then they could sneak away.
She joined the queue near a gazebo and picked up a shiny porcelain plate.
‘Hi, Ros,’ said a tall woman in a flowery top.
‘Hello,’ said Ros, who had no idea who this was. ‘I’m sorry, your name escapes me.’
‘Berlinda Macey,’ she said. ‘So how long have you been with Cameron?’
Ros was slightly wrong-footed. ‘Er since... actually, why do you want to know?’
‘I’m just interested. I wouldn’t have put you two together.’
‘Do you know him?’ Ros was on red alert. The thought of being outed as a fake relationship here wasn’t something she’d considered but the shame of it made her cheeks heat up.
‘I was chatting to him while I got a drink. He’s a lovely guy; smart, funny and sexy – the perfect combination. He seems like a nice, kind person. I suppose it’s true what they say that opposites attract.’
Ouch, thought Ros. Should she counter this with a comic response like she had Alastair? She went for it anyway. ‘They also say those who are busy discussing someone else’s life are probably not happy about theirs.’
Berlinda gasped. ‘There’s no need to be rude. I was complimenting your boyfriend for goodness’ sake. What’s wrong with you?’ Before Ros could answer Berlinda knocked the plate from her hand and as it smashed on the patio Berlinda flounced off. All heads turned in Ros’s direction.
In a heartbeat Cameron was there picking up the pieces of the broken plate. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ If she was honest, she was a bit shaken by Berlinda, both her comments and her actions. This social interaction lark was a minefield.
Cameron stayed with her while they got some food and found somewhere to sit and eat it, which was slightly away from the masses and near a pretty flowering bush. Ros relaxed a little while they ate their food in silence. At least this barbecue food was edible.
Other people congregated on the other side of the bush and started to natter.
‘Did you see Ros chuck that plate at Berlinda?’ said one.
‘After she called her a bitch apparently. Berlinda’s in bits,’ said another.
‘Much like the plate,’ said the first one and they all laughed.
Cameron stood up and leaned over the bush. ‘Ladies.’ There were giggles and hellos when then saw him appear. ‘It was Berlinda who smashed the plate, not Ros. And nobody swore at anyone. You might want to think about who might be listening before you spread lies about people.’ Cameron sat back down and the women on the other side of the hedge were silent.
***
Darla had managed to keep her parents happy with a few phone calls. She was particularly pleased with the one where she pretended to be in Florence, Italy, for the dramatic spectacle of the Scoppio del Carro, which translated to the explosion of the cart. Darla found some suitable music to stand in for the parade, followed by a montage of fireworks. Her parents were suitably impressed, meaning Darla could relax for a few days. It hurt her that they were so proud of her travelling Europe on her own and so excited by all the experiences she claimed to be having. Perhaps one day she would be able to see all these amazing countries for real. In the meantime she had to work out how to clean out the goats without getting butted in the legs.
Darla came out of the back door to find Elliott on the other side of her hay bale wall. ‘Hiya,’ she said brightly although the sight of him did now have her on her guard. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine apart from Winston being missing again.’ He gave her a look and it took a moment for her to work out the accusation.
‘And you think I’m holding him prisoner here. Is that right?’ She folded her arms and stared him down.
‘I simply wondered if you’d seen him,’ said Elliott.
‘I saw him day before yesterday but not since.’ Darla unfolded her arms. ‘Does that mean he’s lost?’
‘Nah, he does this from time to time. He’s a farm cat so he’s outside a lot and he wanders. He’ll come back.’
‘I can help you look for him, if you like?’ Darla didn’t like the idea of Winston being away from home for too long.
‘It’s okay. If you see him, maybe give me a call?’
Darla unlocked her phone and passed it to Elliott. ‘Of course. Pop your number in my phone.’
Elliott did as she asked. He handed back the phone over the bales. ‘Did you know there’s rain forecast for tonight?’
‘I did not know that,’ said Darla, unsure as to where to go with this but it was small talk and she felt that was progress for her and Elliott.
He pointed at the bales. ‘They should be under cover. You don’t want them getting wet.’
‘Right. I see.’ Darla looked around. She knew the garage was full.
‘Horace kept the hay in the shed.’
‘It’s got a padlock on it so I figured I wasn’t meant to go in there.’
‘Key should be on the main set. It’ll be smaller than the others.’
Darla pulled the keys out of the back door and sure enough there was a tiny key. ‘Umm, I don’t suppose you’d like to give me a hand?’ She gave him her best smile.
‘Sure,’ said Elliott, picking up the nearest bale and lifting it onto his shoulder.
‘Oh,’ said Darla, who had been expecting them to get one end each of a bale. She scooted around the other bales to get to the shed ahead of him. By the time she had jiggled the key and got the rusty old padlock to open, Elliott had already stacked up four bales outside the shed. Darla had a quick look inside. There was a large, well-worn workbench, some rusting tools and a large pile of wood in all shapes and sizes. When Elliott lumped another bale on the growing pile she decided she had better get to work. She opened the door right up and dragged the top hay bale down and reversed into the shed. Working together they soon had them all inside.
‘How are you getting on with the animals?’ asked Elliott.
‘Good question,’ said Darla. ‘The cockerel, the boy chicken—’
‘I know which one a cockerel is,’ said Elliott. At least he looked amused for once.
‘Sorry, of course you do. Well, he does not like me one little bit. He’s quite aggressive towards me. I’ve noticed him interacting with the hens and he’s fine with them so it’s definitely directed at me. The hens and I get on a treat apart from the occasional peck at my laces. I think maybe they think they’re worms. Now the geese were very vocal but they do seem to be calmer around me. I don’t know if you’d call that getting on but it is an improvement.’ Darla was bewildered by the full-blown smile Elliott now displayed. ‘What?!’
‘I meant were you managing okay. Not, are you best buddies?’
Darla wobbled her head. ‘It’s basically the same thing. We are all creatures and being in balance with each other is an important part of getting on.’ He was looking at her like she was trying to sign him up to a cult. ‘To answer your question – I get who eats what now so we’re good.’
‘I still don’t understand how you got this job if you have zero experience of farm animals.’
‘It was a mistake on the—’
‘Oh, that explains it,’ said Elliott a little too quickly for Darla’s liking. She’d show him how good she was. She just needed a bit of time.