Chapter 6
I’m outside in the freezing snow with Dylan, Mikey and Taz and our job for the day, we’ve been told, is to shovel snow from around a barn door, so that the door can be opened. And, just to make this extra uncomfortable and to give this whole ordeal a pinch of creepy, Pat could not be more explicit in telling us that (despite our job being to clear the doorway so that we could get the door open) we were not to open said door under absolutely any circumstances at all. Dylan, never knowing when to keep his mouth shut, asked Pat why that was, only for Pat to fob us off with some excuse about how there is dangerous machinery in there. I’m not buying it, not for a second, but I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that I don’t care what is behind the door, so long as I don’t have to go in there, and it doesn’t come out here. I just want to get this snow shifted and then sit tight and wait for help to arrive and take us all home.
The snow crunches beneath my boots as I plod around. Every now and then I manage to slip, which is partially to do with the weather, but also because I am wearing working boots that are two sizes too big for me.
With Pat heading off somewhere to do something else it is now just the four of us and the mood feels, surprisingly, much lighter.
‘I can’t believe I’m doing manual labour,’ Mikey blurts in amused disbelief.
‘I know, with those guitarist’s hands,’ Dylan replies. ‘They are your bread and butter. Don’t break a nail.’
‘You just watch yourself,’ Mikey tells him. ‘You seem like you might have had a drink with breakfast so just be careful. And if anything happens to my hands, I’ll sue you for every penny.’
I laugh because I’m almost certain he’s joking.
‘Ah, brotherly love,’ I say with a sigh. ‘Sometimes I’m amazed the two of you have never had a proper falling out.’
‘Well, the day is young,’ Mikey points out. ‘At least, I think it is. I wonder if it ever truly gets light here, or this is just because of the snow.’
‘It does have a creepy, otherworldly vibe here,’ I admit. ‘I’m guessing it’s because of the snow but, who knows?’
‘Come on then, while it’s just us, what’s it like sharing a room with Kitty?’ Dylan asks me in a hushed tone, before turning to Mikey and Taz. ‘She got in my bed last night while I was sleeping. Nicole had to come and rescue me.’
‘Genuinely terrifying, mate,’ Mikey points out.
‘Yeah, so is sharing a room with her,’ I tell them. ‘She has posters of Dylan all over her walls – every inch is covered.’
‘Just Dylan?’ Taz checks.
‘Are you jealous?’ Dylan asks him with a snort.
‘There were posters with you all on,’ I reassure Taz. ‘But Dylan was definitely the focus, and he shouldn’t be impressed, he should be scared.’
‘I can be both, I guess,’ Dylan points out with a laugh.
One day he’ll take something seriously.
‘How the mighty have fallen since yesterday,’ Taz says with a sigh. ‘We rocked up to that venue, they had everything on our rider, we didn’t have to lift a finger until we went out on that stage.’
‘It will do you good,’ I point out. ‘It might humble you.’
I’m half joking.
‘I didn’t hear you complaining, when you were digging into our Monster Munch,’ Mikey points out.
‘Probably because her mouth was full of crisps,’ Dylan jokes as he shovels. He pauses for a moment, rubbing his cold nose on the back of his hand. ‘This is actually sort of fun – in a weird, one-off kind of way.’
My eyebrows shoot up.
‘Seriously?’ I reply.
‘Yeah,’ he says, and I actually believe he really means it. ‘It feels oddly satisfying, to do something for once. We spend too much time sitting on our arses.’
‘You do,’ Mikey claps back.
‘I’m going to go and check around the back,’ I tell them. ‘See if any other doors need clearing.’
‘Yeah, more like you’re slacking off,’ Dylan calls after me.
‘It had to be my turn eventually,’ I call back.
I push my way through the snow, which has piled up a little higher against the side of the barn, as I make my way around the building. I know I said that I didn’t want to know what was inside here, but I can’t help but wonder. Could he be keeping or doing something in there that he doesn’t want us to know about? Something illegal perhaps? I’d wonder if he has a cannabis farm in there but, let’s be real, Dylan would have sniffed that out by now. I suppose there is a chance that it is just full of dangerous machinery and Pat doesn’t want a bunch of rock stars messing around with it. The simplest answer is usually the correct one, right? Well, in my experience, it rarely ever is.
‘Erm, hello?’ a man’s voice snaps me from my thoughts.
I jump out of my skin, not even because he seems especially scary, but I suppose I’ve got creepy stuff on my mind.
‘Sorry,’ he quickly adds. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘No, no, it’s okay,’ I reply. ‘I’m just being silly.’
‘I'm Kent,’ he introduces himself, throwing his shovel down before brushing a stray lock of dark brown hair from his forehead. ‘Are you working for Pat? I live here, at the farm next door. The fence must have blown down so I’m just digging it out of the snow.’
Kent somehow combines a rugged look with a friendly approachable demeanour. He’s quite handsome really. Tall and broad with dark brown hair and brooding eyes. He looks like the kind of guy who would growl as he threw you over his shoulder with ease, to take you to the bedroom, but then also like the kind of guy who would make you a cup of tea afterwards. Not that I’ve given it much thought.
‘I’m Nicole,’ I introduce myself, offering him my hand to shake – not that I can feel my hand right now. ‘I don’t work here, not exactly. My friends and I broke down just outside the village. Pat said we could stay here, so we’re just helping out, shovelling the snow from around the barn.’
‘Well, that’s very kind of you,’ Kent points out.
I just smile, rather than telling him that Pat hasn’t given us much choice. Although maybe if I did tell him then he might take pity on me and offer to let me stay with him instead. What? He’s just as much a stranger to me as Kitty is, and I know who I would rather take my chances sharing a bed with.
‘How about I give you a hand for a bit?’ I suggest, keen to get a break from the boys for a bit, never mind Kitty and her family.
‘That’s even more kind of you,’ he replies. ‘Truthfully, I would appreciate the company. I live here with my old dad, and he’s not much fun. I tried to get him to build a snowman with me today and he was having none of it. He said there was no time for messing around, not while there were fences to repair and snow to shovel.’
‘I couldn’t tell you the last time I made a snowman,’ I say with a smile.
‘Fancy it?’ Kent suggests. ‘I made a start.’
Kent, who must be in his early thirties, gestures towards a ball of snow behind him.
‘Well, that might just be the saddest snowman I’ve ever seen,’ I tell him with a laugh.
‘That’s because he doesn’t have a head,’ Kent points out. ‘I gave up after the body.’
‘Okay, come on then,’ I say, dropping my own shovel. ‘Let’s get this head going.’
I wince at my own choice of words but Kent doesn’t utter so much as a giggle.
‘So, do you work on the farm full-time?’ I ask Kent curiously.
‘No, but I still help out my dad, now that he’s getting older,’ Kent replies. ‘I’m actually the village vet.’
‘Oh wow,’ I reply. ‘That’s amazing.’
I know that some women think that firemen, policemen, soldiers or ever rock stars are the sexiest men – as far as professions go – but, for me, surely a vet has to be up there? I mean, a vet is like a doctor, but one who takes care of cute animals. Is there anything sexier than a man who cares about animals?
‘What do you do?’ he asks me.
‘I’m a music journalist,’ I reply.
‘Wow, then you really are a long way from home,’ Kent says. ‘We don’t get many music journalists around here. Lots of sick animals though.’
‘Well, at least this snowman isn’t one of them,’ I say as we place a head on top of the snowy body Kent made earlier. ‘Now we just need to find some things for his face.’
‘You know, we don’t have many opportunities for music journalists here but, if you’re still around tomorrow, there’s a local fella – Andy Brightwell – who plays guitar and sings at the local. It’s a great little pub. Fancy it?’
I stop and smile. I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember the last time a normal man with a normal job asked me to go to a normal place with him.
As I ponder what to reply I notice a short, thick stick at my feet that would make a great nose for a snowman – seeing as though we don’t have a carrot. I reach for it at the same time as Kent does, both of us squatting down at the same time, our hands bumping as we reach for the same stick.
‘Nicole?’ I hear Dylan call out.
Dylan King, right on cue.
‘Dylan,’ I say, jumping to my feet.
I don’t know why I’m acting like I’ve just been caught out because I absolutely haven’t.
‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you, babe,’ he says.
Babe . No! No, no, no. Now really isn’t the time to pretend to be my boyfriend.
‘I’m right here, talking to Kent,’ I reply. ‘He lives next door – he was just telling me about a pub in town.’
‘I was just asking Nicole if she fancied going tomorrow,’ Kent tells him. ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t catch your name.’
I always see a funny little flicker of something behind Dylan’s eyes when someone doesn’t recognise him. It’s not that he’s an egomaniac (I don’t think) more just that he’s not used to having anonymity. Although sometimes I do think he takes offence from it, like now.
‘Dylan,’ he says. ‘Dylan King – Nicole’s boyfriend.’
My heart sinks.
‘Oh, right, sorry,’ Kent quickly insists. ‘I’ll leave you guys to it and get back to my fence.’
‘Nic, Pat wants you,’ Dylan tells me, pretty much ignoring Kent.
‘Right,’ I say with a sigh. I turn to Kent. ‘Maybe I’ll see you later.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he replies as he throws himself back into his work.
‘Dylan, what the hell?’ I say as we make our way back over to Pat’s side of the barn.
‘What?’ he replies, feigning innocence.
‘He was nice and good-looking and fun and he wanted to take me out for a drink,’ I rant.
‘Ooh, alright, calm down,’ Dylan teases. ‘I didn’t realise you had fallen in love in the five minutes you were back there.’
I notice something in his tone. Something I’ve never really heard before.
‘Dylan King, are you jealous?’ I ask him.
I can’t imagine he’s jealous of another man talking to me. It’s more likely that he’s used to being the one who is getting hit on by random people, and here his only choices are Kitty or her mum.
‘No, Pat is just around the corner,’ he tells me quietly. ‘And he wants you.’
My blood runs cold as we pop out in front of Pat. It’s too late for me to do anything now.
‘Nicole, I’m going to need to pull you from your duties,’ Pat tells me. ‘I have a special job, just for you.’
Noooo. I don’t want a special job just for me. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to be here, shovelling snow. Strength in numbers, right?
I look to Dylan, hoping he’ll have the magic words to get me out of this mess.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll see him again,’ Pat tells me. ‘Dinner will be served before you know it.’
It hadn’t actually crossed my mind, that I might never see him again, so that’s alarming.
‘Okay,’ I say, because what choice do I have?
‘Smile,’ Pat insists as he leads me back towards the house. ‘This job is indoors.’
And ordinarily I would be into that but, I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling that whatever this special job is, I’m not going to like it.
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.